Loyalty

"...to the End"

"Where are we now, Faron?" Dry earth crackled under the men's feet. Faron glanced about them and saw nothing but an endless wasteland stretching to every horizon.

"I. . .think this may be 'the shades', my lord." Faron's shoulders sunk at the realization. The Shadelands. After all he had given had he still failed his lord?

. . .but at least he was here too. Lord Inan would not walk the dead highway alone. They could not question his honor so long as he had fallen too.

"'The shades'? I have not heard of that. Last I remember we were cutting down those heathen Falk men on the plains. I don't remember seeing any deserts on the maps, though." Inan continued forward, marching onward even now. It had been that same ruthless ambition that had won Faron's sword so long ago.

And even now Faron followed "No, my lord, the shades. . .are a bit further than the maps would show."

"Ha, well how in Hades did we end up here? Must have been quite the victory to call for that much drink. You know, I'm not sure I could even tell you how the battle ended." Inan glanced over his shoulder. "Do you recall how we faired, Faron?"

Only decades of experience in the thick of Lord Inan's gory battles kept Faron from revealing the shock that shot through his body at the sight of his lord. The skin of his face was black and peeling away, charred to the bone. About his neck ran a red ring still weeping blood.

Faron lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry to say, my lord, but I do not believe we faired well."

"Damnable Falkers" Lord Inan turned back to the endless wasteland before him. "But I am sure we will crush them soon enough. They wouldn't stand a fortnight to the Roha tribes. You remember that campaign, Faron? Damn fine fight."

"Indeed, my lord." It was the Faron's first battle as his lord's honor guard. It was then that he had realized just how determined Lorn Inan really was. How much it would take to stop him. He had been so proud to follow him then. So honored to be chosen to guard his life. Grateful that he was not one of so many that stood against the ruthless warlord.

They walked in silence for perhaps days. The grey fog that shrouded the land never dimmed or brightened, nor did it lift. There was no way to tell the passage of time. Faron supposed it didn't really matter now. Lord Inan, continuing his relentless march even in the land of the dead, barely seemed to even notice.

"Just a bit further I suppose. Seems we've walked for days." Inan chuckled and pounded a fist to his chestplate. "And I haven't so much as thought to drink. Ha I'm still fit as a squire. When we finally take our leave of this forsaken desert I might just have to show a few young maidens how fit I truly am!"

Faron thought of Elda, tracing the glyph she had etched into the back of his right gauntlet. More than once his wife had pleaded with him to retire as he left for Inan's newest campaign. When he refused the first time she had etched the symbol, insisting it would protect him and guide him home.

Elda had never been so bold as to speak out against their lord, but Faron had always known her feelings.  The last time he saw her she went so far to beg him to run away. He was appalled that she would even consider besmirching his honor. He had made a pledge to his lord of his sword.

And his life.

"I believe I see something, Faron!" Lord Inan stirred the knight from his daydreaming. "Ahead, is that water?"

The veil of haze seemed to lift ahead of them. A great river rushed through the otherwise featureless land. Faron eyes went wide.

"Yes my lord, that is the river Acheron. The river of woe."

"I do not believe I have heard of that one. Your knowledge is impressive, Faron. I did not know you were so knowledgeable of the world."

"They speak of it in many holy texts, my lord."

"A sacred river, is it?"

"Yes. . .I believe you could say that, my lo-"

"I see a boat! What luck, Faron! We shall be across in no time and out of these damnable wastes."

Faron followed Lord Inan as he marched to the cloaked ferryman at the river's edge. Dread washed over him like the rushing current before them, though Inan was unmoved.

"Excuse me goodman! I am Lord Herincate Inan Alexandrious Malenfossett and I am in need of your vessel."

The vague light of the shades seemed to avoid the boatman. His grey cloak looked almost black in the perpetual shadow that enveloped him. A grey beard poured from beneath his hood yet no face was visible within. Only two smoldering eyes.

One gnarled hand grasped the boatman's pole. At Inan's request the other slowly unfurled from beneath the cloak. The figure said nothing, only offering his palm to the lord.

"My lord, I believe he seeks payment." Faron said. His eyes unable to separate from Charon's gaze.

"Payment?! Do you know who I am?! You dare demand payment from your lord!" Inan glared into the burning pits within the cloak hood, unmoved by the immortals demand. Charon was equally unmoved.

"My lord, please understand, you. . .do not rule here." Faron placed a hand on Inan's shoulder.

"Perhaps not yet, but it will not be long. Surely." Regardless of his blustering, Inan relented  and turned to Faron. He padded at his person, digging through his tattered vestments. "If we must pay the man than so be it, but let it be known, peasant, when I rule this land you will pay for dishonoring your king!"

"It seems those damn Falks have cut my coin right from my pockets! Those heathens will pay dearly in our next assault. Faron, please pay the peasant that your lord may pass."

Faron blinked at Lord Inan. "But my lord I-" the words cut short as though someone had grabbed hold of Faron's tongue. He reached into his mouth and pulled a coin from beneath his tongue. He turned it over in his hands, examining the miraculous piece of gold. It was a standard Imperial coin, but etched onto it, overtop the face of Emperor Inan, was a glyph. The same glyph that marked his gauntlet.

"Elda. . ." Tears welled in Faron's eyes.

"Ah there we are!" In a blink the coin was gone. Inan plucked it from Faron's hand and dropped it into the waiting hand of the ferryman.

"My lord. . ?" Faron only watched as Inan stepped into the boat. The dark figure stepped in after him.

"It's a bit small, Faron. You will have to wait for the next trip." The emperor gave Faron a curt bow of his head as Charon pushed from the shore. "But your sacrifice will not be forgotten, my loyal servant!"

Inan's last words barely made it through the closing fog. Faron stood alone at the shore of Acheron and watched the sillohette of his master disappear across the water. Loyal to the last.