The sunlight burned through Dreys' sleep as if it had a voice of it's own to wake him. Groaning he rolled over and tried to return to his dream of Maria and how she would feel in his arms. But the light did not relent and he was soon stumbling into the common room of the barracks searching for food. As usual the rest of the men had finished the breakfast leaving him with none. He cursed their selfishness and made a note to deal with them when he was put in charge. A man in his late twenties, he was of average stature, with dark hair and an almost permanent sneer on his face. This was due to his belief that everyone and everything had been put on this world to torment him alone. He had dressed himself in his uniform of brown leather that was always too tight for his liking, not like the others in his talon. Finding some bread and cheese he grudgingly ate them and then sat back thinking of Maria again. They had met when they were in training school and had become fast friends. Eventually they were placed in the same talon and the friendship grew into something more. They had walked the tree together on her fourteenth birthday and had been gloriously happy.
Dreys was different then; he laughed often and had always had a light-hearted view on the world. But that soon changed, when he was called away from her side scant minutes after the birth of their child. The Calebii had launched an offensive against the pass that Dreys' talon was stationed at and he had had to go to the wall to defend while Maria lay in the Kraal nearby. When he returned to see her the midwife met him at the door and the look in her eyes was enough. He pushed past her and entered the darkened building finding both mother and child dead of weakness from the difficult childbirth. From that moment everything changed. The laughter left his eyes that day and was replaced by a sneer, and a belief grew in him. If his people didn't insist on fighting the Calebii then there would have been no reason to leave Maria's side and she would still be alive.
From that day forward Dreys had retreated into himself, hating the world around him and hating the Armengarians for what he saw as the murder of his wife and babe. This hatred built in him over time.
He was transferred to a scouting detail and found himself in new territory, with a new talon. But the hate never went away and he turned to drinking heavily and distancing himself from all others to the point of scouting alone. From Dreys' point of view, if he helped the Calebii and they won, he would have his revenge on his people and their treachery. So, he eventually made contact with the Calebii while out in the valley on scouting detail and soon became a source of intelligence for them among the Armengarians.
Over the next few years he was promoted twice, he was now in a position to provide the Calebii with more useful intelligence, all for the purpose of getting his revenge on One-Eye and all of the Armengarians.
And so it was that today he was to meet with his shadowed allies today, and Dreys had new intelligence for them. A group of youths, still in training were being taken to the valley in order to show them the rudiments of scouting out the terrain for Calebii movements. With this information, the Calebii would be able to demoralise their enemies by killing their children. Dreys would revel in the feeling that others were made to suffer for the loss of their young ones in the same way that he had, and still did.
He went through the day's exercises and routines automatically, eventually finding himself at the gates of the passes wall standing with Braefar, one of the men in his command;
"Did you hear sir? One of the scouts from Raga's Talon was caught for Treason," he said to Dreys, "It's said that he was providing military intelligence to the enemy."
The information shocked the older man, so they had caught Varn. The dull-minded fool, thought Dreys. He had had no drive, and now he had been caught.
"Is that so, young Braefar? Well at least he got justice and was sent before old One-Eye for punishment. Probably going to face the camp for that"; said Dreys, referring to the practice of sending serious offenders to the youth training camps as punishment. There the youths would be trained to kill these men, preparing them for future life. In effect it was a death sentence but it had a purpose as well.
"No sir," "What do you mean no, soldier?" "He was executed on the spot, a sword through the chest, Sir," "On whose authority, who would do this?" "Well, it was One-Eye himself sir, he was there and he executed the man himself,"
Dreys' eyes widened for a second in fear. One-Eye was here? That meant that there was an investigation, and that it was going to be tough to cover his tracks. It would be risky if he were to try and make contact tonight with the Calebii, he thought. But, on the other hand, I wonder how much they would be willing to pay for the information that the Protector of Armengar was in the area. Greed overcame cautiousness and he resolved to take the chance tonight and meet his contact Certas. As the gates opened he immediately loped off past the others into the pass and onwards into the valley.
Night had fallen by the time that Dreys met the Calebii scout that was to lead him to his contact. Not a word was spoken between them as they wended their way through the eerily moonlit forest to the meeting point with his contact. A short time later, and they reached the clearing where Certas waited, wrapped up in a thick cloak with the hood pulled up in front of a small fire. Years of training and experience suddenly gave Dreys the feeling that something was slightly wrong here, but he couldn't place it, As he turned to look at his Calebii companion he could see his feelings mirrored in the man's face. But Dreys shrugged it off just as a result of the cold weather, crossing into the firelight.
"Greetings, Certas." said Dreys to the cloaked and hooded man. Certas just inclined his head to Dreys, the hood obscuring his face in the shadow of the cloak's hood. The other Calebii sat himself down behind Dreys, warming his hands at the fire "I come bearing more news for your people, Calebii", he continued, "It seems that there will be an unsuspecting group of Armengarian youths travelling in the vicinity of the nearest pass unprotected." A sadistic smile crossed Dreys' face, "Such a shame if they were to be killed by a wandering Calebii patrol. Such a loss for their family", he added sarcastically. His contact stayed silent, standing still like a statue. Dreys was unnerved by this, "Is there a problem Certas?"
Still not a word came from Certas, who usually was very vocal with Dreys in sharing his feelings for the people of the Citadel. "Certas, is there something wrong?" Said Dreys with an edge of uncertainty in his voice as he felt a shiver run down his spine. Certas was acting very strangely, usually he would be reveling in the butchery that this kind of information promised. "What is wrong my friend?" added Dreys," I also have news that Chareos is here. Surely that should lighten your heart. To know that you could kill that whoreson as well must bring some warmth to you." The feeling of something being amiss was almost tangible now and Dreys started to shift uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. "Certas?" whined Dreys looking to the solitary figure. The man in the cloak gave a nod and Dreys heard the sound of movement behind him.
Swinging around, Dreys was met with the sight of a man shaped shadow standing behind the Calebii scout who was crumpling to the ground, a ribbon of blood blossoming across his throat. The man, whose features were obscured in the shadow beyond the firelight, stepped forward, a bloodstained knife in his hand. Dreys' mouth dropped as he saw a man, a shade under 6 feet tall, grinning evilly at him through a days growth of beard. Dreys stumbled backwards in terror, colliding with the chest of the cloaked man. A familiar voice started speaking behind him, a voice that all Armengarians had heard. The colour drained from Dreys' face as a sickening realisation froze him in place. "For the crime that you have committed against the people of Armengar, the information you have given putting the blood of our dead on your own hands..." said the man, a murderous tone in his voice, "I sentence you to death!" Dreys turned and immediately felt an ice-cold pain stab through his chest. He looked up into the grim face of the man in the cloak, and then died. "And may you forever fester, you treacherous scum," finished the cold voice of Chareos, as he withdrew the sword from between Dreys ribs. Then wiping it clean on the cloak he sheathed it,stepped over the body and headed for the woods, and the plateau beyond. "What should we do with them?" asked Amos, returning the now clean knife to his belt.
"Leave the carcasses for the scavengers," answered the Protector without turning, the lack of emotion sending a chill through the otherwise fearless Amos "Yeah, right," said the warrior, some of his composure returning, "We have to be going, or else Rhyan won't stop complaining. He'd go spare if he knew there was just the two of us down here."
As Amos left the clearing, Chareos looked back and his gaze paused on the body of the traitor. He stopped for a second, then shook his head, walking back home. Justice had been served and Armengar was once again complete.