The bridge represented the only easy access into or out of the walled complex.
In the center of the garrison, a larger structure rose above the rest. Though buildings rose to the level of two floors, the main citadel in the center easily doubled that. In the darkness, backlit only by the errant flashes of light from the distant storm, it loomed over the rest. A dull black rectangular monolith.
While lanterns flickered along the walls, no motion appeared along their peaks.
The throbbing pain in his left arm increased. With it came a whisper. The foreign grumble he’d experienced earlier. It berated him in a language he failed to understand, though its vicious intent was clear. Images of gore. Rippling pools of blood wide enough to be lakes. Severed limbs and body parts of men, women and children. Ryl shook his head, trying desperately to be rid of the image. He squeezed his hand into a fist, letting his fingernails dig into his skin. The discomfort was a temporary distraction. He struggled to turn his attention, his focus, back to their immediate surroundings.
Ryl and Fay had slowed their pace as they neared the bridge to the garrison. The river from the north widened dramatically from where it spewed from underneath the palisade. From the rocky, sloping eastern side bank to the stone wall of the garrison, it spanned one hundred meters from side to side. A single massive stone pillar jutted up from the water in the center of the river, supporting the structure above.
Entirely made of stone, the surface was wide enough to easily accommodate two carriages abreast. A low wall along each side prevented any from an accidental plunge into the churning waters below. At the end, a heavy wooden door barred entrance into the fortification beyond. There were no lights on the bridge this evening.
Breila’s men had done an admirable job dampening the lights lining the street leading from Cadsae Proper. Ahead of them, a single lantern hung from a pole before the entrance to the bridge. The halo of light from its modest flame shifted wildly as it swung in the growing wind.
Ryl stopped. He breathed in a deep breath as he scanned the area ahead with his mindsight. The racing of his heart matched the quickening sensation of the alexen as it thundered through his veins.
There was no denying the image that flashed into his mind now. A single orb of glowing golden light throbbed in the distance. Ryl needed no further investigation to understand whom he was looking at. He would recognize that signature among any.
It was Kaep.
He’d found her.
The darkness that had plagued the extent of his vision seemed to have withdrawn, though the discomfort in his arm continued unabated. The blackness was still there. Taunting him.
The excitement he felt was exhilarating. He resisted the urge to drink deep from the speed that flowed through his veins. The desire to rush headlong into the garrison was potent. There would be none to stand in his way as he fought for her freedom. At least none who would survive to tell the tale. The feeling was rash. Impulsive, urging him onward with a force that was foreign.
Fay’s voice from the shadows at his side snapped him from his sudden impulsive charge forward.
“Ryl, Ryl, are you alright?” Lord Eligar whispered to him from where he remained concealed in the deep shadows along the edge of the track. There was a tangible concern that tinted his voice. Ryl nodded subtly, though he refused to take his eyes off the garrison in the distance.
“She’s there, Fay,” he growled.
“That’s good news, Ryl,” Fay acknowledged. “I have archers on the banks to the north and south of the bridge. I took the liberty of planting a charge along the lower stanchion where the roadway meets the pillar. I aim to bring it down if I have to.”
Ryl looked at Lord Eligar lurking in the shadows to his left. He could see the glimmer of the streetlamp ahead reflect off his teeth as his lips curled into a wicked grin. He strained his eyes into the gloom to the south. There were perhaps a half dozen darker shapes silhouetted against the lighter shade of the rolling water. A soft nickering of a horse was audible over the sloshing of the river.
A breath of wind carried from the west, stronger than its predecessors. The air was heated, disturbingly warm compared to the temperature that surrounded them. The humidity made it thick, almost sticky as it brushed past. More like the exhale of a great beast than the leading edge of a storm.
A sickening stench was carried on the final tendrils of the gust.
Ryl whipped his head around, glaring to the west. His left hand instinctively fell to the Leaves secured behind his back.
Along the wall of the garrison, one after another the torches flicked out.
Something was wrong.
He scanned frantically with his mindsight as his vision failed him in the darkness.
Ryl’s head swam, foundering for air as the depth of the blackness hammered into him.
No longer could he see Kaep.
There was nothing but blackness filling the void where her signature had remained.
Something was horribly wrong.
A low rumble preceded the bolt of lightning that split the sky. For a moment, the garrison and the opposite side of the river were illuminated with a flash of daylight.
Lining the vacant tops of the garrison walls was a crush of bodies. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they covered every inch of the space, their hoods pulled up over their heads. A line of faceless specters. From either side of the garrison, along the riverbank, bodies stretched north to the base of the palisade and south to the
