The Silent Guardian — Chapter 11, Part 3: Orders for Merv
This installment continues The Silent Guardian Series. Previous: Chapter 11, Part 2: Samarkand.
We have to go together. The Archon is worried. He thinks something will happen to you on the way. She hesitates before continuing. He needs your account of what happened with Qin.
The mention of Qin stops me cold. I study the woman. How many people know about my clandestine mission? Everything we do is supposed to remain in the dark—even from other members of the Phylax. Yet, here they are, following me, asking for details they shouldn’t even know to inquire about.
No. I sign the word with more force than intended. I don’t need your help. I’ll make it there alone.
The man shifts slightly. With folded arms, one finger nervously taps against the opposite bicep. The woman, however, doesn’t back down. She is more insistent this time. This isn’t about your pride. The Archon needs you there alive. She adds, We both do.
I sign to the man, You spoke to me in Sachu. You said, ‘Dahr-khoday.’ What is that supposed to mean?
The woman signs to her partner sharply, Did you see him in Sachu? Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you speak out loud? We could have handled this back there.
He rolls his eyes, then signs to his partner, I thought he would talk to me instead of running away. His focus shifts back to me. The Dahr-khoday is a dangerous group of radicals the Archon has discovered. He fears they have interfered with your mission. He thinks they might be trying to kill you.
My attention darts between the pair standing in front of me. I’ve never heard of the Phylax sending two agents to bring in one. It’s not our protocol, and I have difficulty believing them.
The woman signs one last time, each word punctuated with worry. We have our orders. We will bring you in.
I tell them once more, I will go on my own. You two can go ahead. Inform the Archon I’ll be there soon.
An unspoken plea hangs between us. Shortly after, it seems the woman decides she needs to follow orders. She draws her knife. I won’t be taken in.
The man’s knife and mine slide into our palms in a synchronized motion. My hands remain steady. He surges first, his blade sweeping toward my midsection. I twist my hips, feeling the rush of air as his steel whistles past. Our knives meet in a brief clash, the impact reverberating through my wrist. I feint high, forcing him to bring his arm up; then I slash low. He jumps back just in time.
He tries for another rush, but I can already sense his intention. I sidestep, letting his momentum carry him too far forward. Seizing that split-second, I slam my elbow into him, knocking his knife off course. My blade comes up beneath his guard. The point slips between his ribs, and his breath catches in a sharp gasp. His eyes go wide, searching for something—mercy, maybe—but I’ve already finished what I started.
The woman charges me. I twist aside, barely dodging her strike. An upward slash touches her arm. She hisses, more in frustration than pain. I am surprised by a swift pivot, followed by a blow to my wrist that knocks the blade away. The knife clatters to the ground between us. We both move for it. She’s faster, kicking it out of reach.
Before she can press her advantage, I drive into her. She tries to grapple with me, her hands clawing for control. I manage to trap one of her wrists, twisting it hard enough that her grip falters. The weapon slips from her grasp. She snarls and counters with an elbow to my ribs, knocking the wind from my lungs.
Staggering back, my hand brushes against something on the ground. It’s a discarded leather rein, half-buried in the dust. I snatch it up. She charges again, and I shift with the rein clutched tight. Momentum carries her forward, and in that brief opening, I slip behind her and subdue her. Her resistance fades, and the alley falls quiet.
I tell myself she chose this fight, but the justification feels hollow. I wonder if they believed this mission was worth their lives. While unsure of their true identities, I believe they were Phylax.
I crouch beside them, searching for clues. My hands move quickly, checking their pockets until I find an ornate scroll sealed with the Mark of the Phylax. I hesitate, my thumb running over the broken wax before unfurling the scroll.
The instructions inside are cryptic. My name is scrawled across the parchment, accompanied by detailed notes tracking my movements. They’ve been watching me since I left Qin’s encampment. One location catches my interest the most—Merv. They set a meeting for two weeks from now. The exact purpose isn’t mentioned, except I don’t need it spelled out. I’m on their agenda.
I wind up the scroll. Merv. It has always been a waypoint on the trek to the Acropolis. It is more important to me now. Making it there in two weeks will require my total effort. If I want to find real answers, I have to make that push.
I walk back into the bustling streets of Samarkand, slipping into the crowd. I select my supplies: dried meat, water skins, and a fresh cloak thick enough to shield me from the winds waiting outside the city. My fingers brush over the coarse fabric as I hand over the coins. My talisman is still; however, I still scan the streets for any sign of the Phylax. The people in this city are unaware of the real storm brewing. What will happen to everyone else if those who protect humankind are under siege?
With my provisions secured, I rush to the outskirts of the city. The noise begins to fade as I approach a stable nestled between the last few buildings in the town. The stableman agrees to sell me a sturdy chestnut mare. Her legs are strong, built for endurance. She’ll carry me across the sands faster than I could manage on foot.
I tighten the saddle straps, securing the bags. I lead the horse toward the edge of the city. The walls of Samarkand loom behind me as the horizon stretches out.
I check the talisman beneath my cloak. It is calm. I rub my arm where the Mark of the Phylax is embedded, thinking of the two I killed. I wish I could feel regret for what happened. I don’t. They should have taken my advice and moved ahead of me. I will make it to Athens on my own.
Continue with Chapter 12, Part 1: The Merv Meeting. New installments publish daily at 5:00 AM.
