Dusk Over Arcath

Chapter 9

Aster felt a coarse hand shake him. Bleary eyed, he rolled to look at the man who had roused him. 

The wood beneath his straw cot creaked with his weight, but he paid it no mind. Everything was dark. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the night before. He had returned from the wood, yes that much was true. Then what? He met Canth at the tavern and they had...

Pounding pulsed behind his eye and his head anguished as he sat up. Ah, right, that's what they had done. 

"Get up," a deep voice ordered. "Your beckoned to the Strongfast." 

"Who's that?" 

The room was too dark to be morning. Something was happening but exactly what remained a mystery. 

"Gheul, Watchman," the man answered shortly. "Get up." 

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Aster reluctantly complied. He only had time to slip on his leather boots and gulp a dash of the water before the Watchman was half-dragging, half-leading him out of the tavern and into the street. 

From the road he could see the city was still asleep. Nobody moved in the low streets, save an occasional rat foraging for remnants of the previous day's feast. Joining the few Watchmen Aster could see on the wall was a host of stars that kept the night at bay along with their captain, a half-moon glowing silver in the sky. 

"The skies have cleared," Aster mused. 

"Perhaps a good omen," Gheul offered. 

"Are you to go on the march?" 

"Aye." The Watch had surrendered the formal garb of wolf pelt, leaving the man's skin open to the coolness of the night and the goose-flesh that was spreading up his arms. Aster suspected it was not from the gentle breeze. 

The Strongfast was the only building that stirred, though the casual eye might have missed it. Above the uneven edge of the keep's highest fortification he saw heads peaking down at them. Arrow loops in the face of the stone occasionally betrayed the light of a torch, and voices drifted more quietly than the soft wind through the ghostly street. 

Two Watchmen nodded welcome solemnly as they entered, faces half-disguised by the shadows crawling along the damp brick walls. 

Inside was scarcely more lively than the shrouded city outside, though far more bodies occupied it. The make-shift table from the morning still commanded the center of the room surrounded by a small collection of huntsmen. Three daggers pinned the same aged map to its uneven surface.

The dragon is missing, Aster mused. 

Emereld's long grey beard made him immediately recognizable on the far side of the room. It took longer for him to notice Endel amid a small gathering of men standing across from the governor as they were standing with part of their backs to him. 

"Pst." 

Aster turned to search for the noise. The Watchman beside him seemed not to notice or at least not care as he walked to where the commander was consulting. 

A finger tugged on Aster's tunic, causing him to jump. 

Canth's face was mixture of humor and concern and the mixture did not seem to sit well with him. He smiled waveringly. 

"Good to see you made it." 

"To what?" Aster whispered back. "What are we doing here?" 

The other boy shrugged his narrow shoulders. "Emereld sent for me some time ago but hasn't told me anything."