Page 97 of Path of the Dark
The vehemence of his reaction surprised Elias. The irony of it wasn’t lost on him, for he was still one of the oppressors and had helped his father conquer this city.
A lad of no more than ten winters appeared ahead. Barefoot, his thin body caked with grime, he looked like one of the mudlarks—the forgotten children who roamed the riverbed at low tide. The boy’s face was hollowed with hunger.
Something twisted under Elias’s ribcage—a strange sensation that he suddenly realized was guilt. At this lad’s age he’d lived in luxury, and had never known a day of hunger or real hardship.
Elias dug into the pouch at his waist and moved to block the boy’s path.
The lad saw him and stopped, cringing back. “I didn’t do nothing,” he gasped.
“Here,” Elias said gruffly, holding him out a gold talent. “Get yourself some food.”
The boy stared at him. His hazel eyes widened, suspicion flaring in the depths. The urchin didn’t trust him—and for good reason too.
“Go on.” Elias flicked the coin into the air, and as he’d expected, a thin arm shot out, grimy fingers closing around the gold talent.
Watching the lad run off, clutching his prize, Elias found himself smiling.
It was a small thing, but it was a start.
Now that his father had disowned him, the loyalty that had been a yoke about his neck no longer weighed him down. He wanted Rithmar to defeat Anthor, and for his father to slink back to Mirrar Rock, a beaten man.
He wanted a chance to make a fresh start—with Ryana.
Emerging from the slums, Elias crossed The Spiral Way and The Bridge of the North Wind. The tide was up and a warm wind that smelled of the sea tickled his face. He was heading to the Western Barracks, a huge complex that hugged the edge of the city. It took him a while to reach his destination, for Veldoras was a large, sprawling city. However, the walk did Elias good. It allowed him to put his thoughts and emotions in order, to mentally ready himself for what was to come.
He wondered how the other soldiers would react to him. He’d once been their captain, and now he’d be fighting at the front with the other foot soldiers. In other circumstances, such a fall would have been humiliating, but Elias found he hardly cared.
He had other priorities these days.
Finally, the grey stone bulk of the Western Barracks hove into view. The building crouched in the shadow of the city wall, where the silhouettes of guards moved back and forth; dark outlines against a cloudy sky.
Drawing in a deep breath, Elias mounted the steps. The entrance to the barracks yawned before him, and he spied two guards stationed there, spears at the ready. Their gazes flicked over him, recognition flickering in their eyes.
They let him pass without a word.
Elias’s mouth twisted as he strode into the building. Of course, few of the troops would have heard about his fall from grace. His father had left it to him to inform them.
His boots whispered on polished stone as he crossed the entrance hall and walked out into a massive courtyard. The paved space was being used for hand-to-hand combat training this morning. The grunts of men as they punched, kicked, and wrestled punctured the heavy morning air.
Around the rectangular courtyard, the three-storied grey walls of the barracks rose up.
Halfway across the expanse, Elias halted. Without thinking, he’d been heading toward the stairwell that would take him up to the captain’s apartments on the top floor of the building.
But those chambers no longer belonged to him. Instead, he’d be sleeping on a pallet in a dorm with the other grunts.
“Morning Captain!” A soldier stepped away from the training. Face flushed and sweaty, he wiped an arm across his forehead and grinned. Elias recognized him. The man was a fairly new recruit, a soldier who’d only joined them for the siege of Veldoras. He would now be Elias’s superior—something they’d both likely have trouble adjusting to.
Iago—that was his name.
“It’s just ‘Elias’ now,” he greeted the soldier with a wry smile. “I’m reporting for duty.”
