Aius

AIUS

Chapter One

The sand Aius lay on was warm and the air humid, despite the drizzle of the cool rain falling on the beach that plastered his soaked shirt to his back. A cold tide washed up around his knees, dragging with it grit and seaweed that wound around his legs and tangled itself in his toes, before the water receded back into the sea again. Aius groaned as he curled the fingers of his outstretched arms, digging into the sand and pulling himself along onto solid ground. Again the tide washed around him, and he shivered and spluttered as he coughed up sea water from the back of his throat, his face contorting at the foul salty taste. He attempted to cry out, but his voice only came at a hoarse whisper. “Sun and stars… the sun and stars…”

Perhaps the tide was going out, or perhaps he had managed to haul himself up the beach, for soon he realised he was lying spread-eagled on his back with the tide no longer washing his legs. Aius could feel the rain pattering on his face and chest, running in streams down his cheeks and along his arms. He tried to discern where he was, picking at memories that glimmered in his mind like candles in a haze. A biting pain in his right leg reminded him of the knife-wound; he looked down and grimaced at the white fleshy gape, not bleeding but probably septic. He could not move, so he resigned to waiting for his strength to return.

The sky above was pale blue-grey with patched clouds concealing the mid-morning sun on the sea’s eastern horizon; as he watched rays of sunlight sparkling upon the waves, fresh breezes whipped up from above the sea, sweeping the rain in sheets, and chilling him as gusts of air made the water on his face cold. The light gale whistled through the forest of trees that lined the beach, and branches squeaked as they bent with the wind. Overhead grey gulls soared, swooping down to the water to snatch up fish.

Aius’ body ached all over from bruising, yet he thanked the stars that he had no broken bones. His head however was heavy with tiredness, and his lungs were strained, as though his chest were being compressed. He was quite sure that despite having the good fortune to have washed up on dry land, his life was still very much in danger.

A sudden stick stabbing his ribcage made him twist; looking up he saw a young woman standing over him, waving the stick just in front of his eyes. “Fair morning to you,” she said smoothly, “got too full of ale last night? Thought you’d have a nap under the stars did you?” Aius groaned and turned his head to face the other way. So there was civilisation near. That meant food and water, and perhaps treatment for his… “Blood, what did you do to your leg? It’s cut open!” She stepped back suddenly, as though he were holding the knife that made the wound. “Got in a fight?”

Aius turned to look at her and tried to speak, but found himself convulsing and coughing again; his throat was as dry as dirt. The girl crouched down in front of him now, meeting his gaze levelly with pretty brown eyes. “Wait, I don’t recognise you. You aren’t from the village are you?”

Aius grunted his best attempt at a “no” whilst craning his neck backwards to scan for any other people. They were alone. “You’re dressed in the Imperial style as well…” She gasped, looking him up and down. “Were you shipwrecked here?”

Aius nodded quickly. Sensing his strength was slowly returning he pushed his hands down into the sand and he pulled himself up so he was leaning back on his elbows. From there he was able to roll over and pull himself up to crouch on his knees. He had to pant to get his breath back after this simple exertion of his energy, but he was relieved to be upright again and facing the other person. The young woman, whom he now saw was only a few years younger than he, perhaps twenty, smiled at him sympathetically and rose to her feet again; the folds of her plain white dress fell down about her slender legs.

“What is your name?” she asked, with more confidence in her tone now.

Aius swallowed, trying to wet his throat, but it still hurt. “Aius,” he replied. He instantly cursed himself for not thinking to give a false name, but what was done was done.

“I’m Claia,” the girl said, stepping forwards and offering a hand to him. “I suppose you don’t know where you are, do you?”

Aius looked at her hand for a few moments then glanced up at her face; she was calm and composed. Sighing, he clasped Claia’s hand and she helped him up to his feet. He staggered for a second, almost falling, and she quickly propped him up by taking his right arm across her shoulders. “Thank you,” he said breathily. “Where am I?”

Claia helped him to take some steps across the wet sand towards the tree line. The rain had faded to only a faint sprinkle and would soon stop altogether. “Shale Island,” said Claia, in response to his question.

Aius nodded grimly. He was surprised at how quickly she had adjusted to the situation. “You’re very trusting,” he said. She gave him a wry sidelong glance, as though she were being accused, but he smiled and said, “Thank you.”

Claia tilted her head, apparently in agreement. “I’m a good judge of character.”

Aius slipped his arm off her shoulder and attempted to stand unsupported. He staggered again when he tried to take a step, but caught his balance. He took a few cautious steps forwards, then turned around to face the sea. The ocean was an endless blue-grey expanse before him, with no land to be seen save that upon which they were standing. By the curve of the beach he supposed this island was small. He turned to face Claia. “Which region is Shale in?”

Claia tilted her head back in puzzlement. “Region?”

Aius walked towards her, gesturing around with his arms. “Which region of the Empire are we in? Which country?”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, Shale is close to Hattan’s Landing; you can see Hattan’ from the northern shore – the market town? Have you heard of it?”

Aius shook his head. He did not recognise those names for towns. “I am not familiar with Hattan’s Landing.” He said in simple response.

“Blood, how far away are you from?” she asked, rather surprised.

Aius was careful how he worded his reply. As he slowly regained physical strength his sense of reason seemed to improve also. The very real danger of his present situation was slowly dawning on him, but his hopelessness in the larger scheme of things had not even begun to settle. “I have travelled many leagues by sea.”

Claia nodded slowly. “Well, Hattan’s Landing is a large island surrounded by many other small islands like Shale, and Hattan’ is a mile from the mainland. On the mainland, they call the country Agonfall.”

Aius’ eyes widened. “Agonfall?” He was much further south than he had anticipated; Seidana was months to the north on horseback, and he could not risk travelling by ship again. “Blood and rain,” he cursed. As he uttered the words he noticed that the rain had ceased to fall from the sky. He was still wet and shivering, though.

Claia’s eyes narrowed, and she studied his face. “Do you feel all right?”

Aius gazed at her blankly for a moment trying to pick out her words; they seemed to resonate in the distance. “I…” he blinked, and shook his head slowly. His hand went to the back of his head, and he rolled his eyes back. “I…” he wavered for a moment, then fell forwards on his knees. The last thing he remembered was his face hitting the sand.

……

Aius gazed out of tall window of the tower, looking southward from the manor house’s west wing across the olive groves and vineyards in the valley. He could not see the setting sun from where he rested, but the sky was heavy with red and pink, and speckled with clouds that stretched east to where the sky was darkest, where pinpricks of light shone.

He had seen the messenger arrive on horseback some minutes ago, and patiently awaited the soft tapping that eventually came to the hard wooden door of the tower. “Enter,” he said firmly.

Trinido came through the door swiftly, a look of fear and anxiety upon his creased face. He ran a dark hand through the wings of grey in his black hair, and bowed his head. “Aius, news has come from the north.”

From the look on his old friend’s face Aius knew to fear the worst. “Tell me.”

……

“Aius,” said a smooth voice, floating in across his dreams. He opened his eyes and saw Claia’s face form where Trinido’s had been. A cool hand was on his forehead. He was naked but covered with a blanket. Wiping a hand across his eyes, he gazed about wearily. He was indoors, in a wood panelled room with beams supporting a low roof. A small dwelling, such as he had expected might exist on a small island.

He shut his eyes and let his head lie still on the soft pillow under his head. He had passed out, whether this was due to his injury or the cold or his tiredness, he could not guess. Claia had brought him to safety to tend to his fever though; it was fortunate she had found him when she did. Wherever he was though, for now he surely must be safe from his assailants. They could only think he was dead. If he remained quiet in Agonfall whilst he recovered strength and planned his next action, he could strike back effectively soon enough.

“Where are we?” he asked weakly, without opening his eyes. His head was burning painfully, and his muscles felt tired and hard on the soft sheets, but fortunately his thoughts were becoming coherent now.

“My home,” said Claia. “Drink this.” Aius felt a thin cold edge poking his mouth, and opened his eyes to see Claia attempting to ease a spoon between his lips. He batted her hand away instinctively. She frowned and tossed her hair back indignantly. “You need it,” she said.

“I need a cartographer,” Aius said, cutting her off as she tried to force the spoon towards him again. He attempted to slide his legs out of the covers, but was shocked to find them immobile. Claia did not seem to realise he had tried to move.

“You need to rest. You can be on your way tomorrow.” Claia lowered the spoon full of dark green liquid to just below his lips. “Drink this.”

“I have to find a cartographer as soon as possible,” Aius insisted, tilting his head back from the spoon.

Claia grunted, and suddenly leaned forwards and pinched his nose tightly. He had been caught just after exhaling. He could not breathe. He struggled for air, trying to pull her hand away, but he was still weak and she had him in a talon-grip. He gave up and opened his mouth to breathe as she delivered the spoonful of sickly green liquid to his tongue. It was foul. He would have coughed it up immediately if Claia had not clamped his mouth shut with her hand.

After he had swallowed she gave a sharp nod and moved away. “What was that?” Aius asked, rubbing his sore head. His vision shifted out of focus and for a moment he saw three Claias standing beside the low bed. They resolved into one woman again, quickly to be replaced by three even blurrier figures.

“Something to help you sleep,” she said softly. “You can find your cartographer tomorrow…” her voice faded to a muted murmuring, then trailed away into the distance completely. Aius’ eyelids were heavy, his muscles exhausted. As his thoughts rapidly escaped him, he surrendered to the consuming sleep.