by M. L. Forman
“You are a good teacher,” Alex replied.
Arconn did not reply, his eyes turning suddenly from Alex to the darkness around the camp. Alex followed Arconn’s gaze, but he could see only darkness.
“What is it?” Alex questioned softly.
“Perhaps nothing,” replied Arconn, his gaze remaining on the darkness. “Perhaps something. I have felt for several days that we are being watched.”
“Should I wake the others?”
“No,” said Arconn. “The danger is not close. Not yet.”
Alex felt nervous and tense as he lay down on his blankets. Anticipation filled his mind and he found it difficult to sleep. He pulled his sword closer to him, letting his hand rest on the hilt. The cold metal seemed to ease his worries, and slowly he fell into a fitful sleep.
A hand covered Alex’s mouth and he jerked awake, wanting to cry a warning to his friends. His hand gripped tightly around his sword.
“Stay quiet,” Thrang’s voice whispered. “Trouble’s close. Pull on your boots and come outside. Quickly.”
Alex could hear Andy moving in the darkness, but his eyes would not focus. He pulled on his boots and rubbed his eyes, trying hard to shake off sleep. Fastening Moon Slayer to his belt, he followed Andy out of the tent. He could breathe better in the open air, but he was still having trouble seeing. Clouds filled the sky, hiding the moonlight, but he could make out the gray outlines of his companions standing near the cold fire pit. As quietly as he could, Alex moved toward them, his senses becoming sharper with each step.
The wind had died down, allowing a strange silence to settle over the campsite. Alex could hear trees creaking softly in the light breeze, but what he focused on was the sound of horses in the distance, moving slowly from side to side.
“They will come soon,” whispered Thrang. “Be ready.”
Alex and his friends spread out, forming a line in front of their camp. Thrang was next to him on his right, Andy on his left. To Thrang’s right stood Halfdan and then Bregnest, but there was no sign of Tayo, Skeld, or Arconn. Alex gripped his sword tightly, worried about his friends.
“Where are the others?” Alex asked nervously, keeping his voice lowered.
“Close,” Thrang replied, lifting his ax to a fighting position.
Alex followed Thrang’s example and drew Moon Slayer from his side. The blade shimmered black in the darkness, a hint of blue running down the sharp edges. Alex felt a strange heat growing inside him as he held the sword and waited for battle. It was the same heat he had felt when he fought the troll, though he hadn’t noticed it then. A powerful desire to rush into battle grew in his chest and mind, but he resisted it, thinking it was just his nerves.
Suddenly the sound of horses grew louder, moving fast, no longer shifting from side to side but coming straight toward the camp.
Alex felt his stomach tighten, knowing that any moment he would have to fight and kill if he wanted to stay alive.
From out of the darkness, the dim outline of men on horses appeared, and Alex heard a terrible yell from the bandits as they charged. Alex and his friends raised their own battle cry when the bandits came into view. Alex saw some of the horsemen turn quickly to ride away, surprised to see an armed company ready to fight, but the rest charged forward wildly. Alex stood firm with his companions, afraid, but ready to meet the charging bandits and his fate.
The noise of steel meeting steel filled the air around him, followed by the groans of wounded and dying men. Alex sidestepped a charging horse, swinging Moon Slayer at the rider’s body as hard as he could. He didn’t think to strike a second time, but quickly looked for another enemy to fight. A strange madness filled his mind as he wielded his sword, a madness that drove him recklessly into the battle. To Alex, his movements felt natural but strangely alien as well. There was no time for him to think even if he’d been able to focus his mind. He had to attack the bandits if he wanted to stay alive, and he did attack. Without hesitation, without thought, and without fear, Alex rushed into battle as a great happiness and a deep
sorrow filled his heart and mind.
The bandits quickly changed their minds about the attack and turned their horses to flee. They let out another scream as they tried to make their escape. Skeld, Tayo, and Arconn were waiting for them, ready to attack them from behind. Again there was the sound of steel on steel as more bandits fell from their horses.
Alex rushed toward the remaining bandits he could see, slashing at them as they tried to break away. He felt a great heat inside his body as he attacked, swinging his sword wildly at everything on horseback. His movements were quicker now, and he could see his enemies clearly in the darkness, as if some strange light illuminated them. Running forward, Alex fought to stop the bandits from escaping, cutting down any who came near him.
As quickly as it had begun, the battle was over. Alex spun around, wildly looking for more bandits, but there were none left. The heat inside him began to cool quickly, and as it cooled, darkness clouded his vision.
“Are you all right, Alex?” asked Arconn, standing at a distance. “Is the heat leaving you?”
“Yes,” replied Alex, suddenly feeling tired and weak. “What . . . what happened to me?”
“It is the sword,” said Arconn, stepping a little closer. “Its power entered you, its master.”
Alex didn’t reply but looked down at the sword in his hand. The sword’s edges gleamed bright blue, as if tiny flames raced up and down the blade. It looked beautiful in the darkness, and Alex felt a surge of fierce pride that Moon Slayer was his sword.
“You didn’t tell me this would happen,” said Alex, his eyes turning to Arconn. “I mean, having the power of the sword enter me.”
“I wasn’t sure it would,” replied Arconn with a slight smile. “I have heard stories, but I have never seen it happen. At least, not until tonight.”
“We all saw it,” said Andy, coming up beside Alex. “It was amazing. If I hadn’t seen it myself, I’d never have believed it.”
“What did you all see?” Alex asked, fear growing inside of him.
“A strange, pale light,” Bregnest replied softly, watching Alex closely, a look of wonder on his face. “Like you were glowing. Not like a lamp, but like a beam of moonlight in the
darkness.”
“Indeed he was,” said Thrang, looking from Alex to Bregnest. “I’ve heard stories too, but never thought I’d see something like this.”
“What does it mean?” Alex asked in a troubled voice.
“The fire of a great warrior was lit inside of you this night,” replied Arconn. “The sword has chosen its true master, and now we all know why the sword was named Moon Slayer.”
“But I’m not a great warrior,” Alex protested.
“Tell that to the bandits,” said Skeld with a grim laugh.
Alex looked at the ground in surprise. Around him lay the bodies of the bandits he had killed. A spark of fear ran through him as he realized what he had done. Without thinking, he had rushed into the charging bandits and killed them. How many had he killed? He wasn’t sure.
What troubled Alex most was that now that the battle was over, he felt nothing toward the dead bandits. He had simply done what he had to do. There were no feelings of guilt or sorrow or even happiness. There was only the knowledge that he’d done what had to be done—he’d killed the enemy. The whole battle seemed like some half-forgotten dream.
“This can’t be,” said Alex, looking at his companions helplessly.
“It is,” said Arconn in a kindly voice. “It is part of what you are. You cannot change what you are any more than you can change the sun or the sky. You can only accept it, and learn to use your gifts wisely.”
Alex took a deep breath and let out a sigh. He knew Arconn was right and that the warrior inside him was a part of his true self.
“What now?” Alex asked, wiping Moon Slayer on the grass and returning it to his side.
“We’ll wait for daylight,” said
Bregnest. “Then we’ll search the bandits for anything of value.”
“Isn’t that stealing?” Alex asked with a weak smile.
“They’re dead,” Skeld laughed. “And they are bandits.”
Alex knew the bandits would have killed them and stolen their things if they could have. He also knew from reading the Adventurer’s Handbook that bandits fell into the same group of evil creatures as goblins and trolls. It wasn’t stealing, but Alex didn’t like the idea of searching the dead bodies.
Thrang relit their campfire and they gathered around the flames to wait for dawn. Thrang cooked breakfast, muttering to himself about Alex’s moonlight glow. He seemed amused by the evening’s events, even if Alex wasn’t. When the eastern sky started to grow light, Skeld and Halfdan rode off in search of the bandits’ horses.
The darkness slowly changed to a dull gray as the sun came up behind the clouds. The air smelled like rain as Alex and his companions returned to the dead bandits. Alex wished it would rain and wash away the smell of death and the color of blood. He felt strange, going through the pockets of the dead bandits, but the others didn’t seem to mind at all. They placed everything of value they found, including weapons, near their fire pit. Then they piled the dead bandits downwind from their camp.
“Slim pickings,” commented Thrang, tossing a bandit onto the pile. “Bandits never have much of value.”
“Then why bother?” Alex asked, struggling to drag a body to the pile himself.
“You never know,” replied Thrang, helping Alex toss the dead bandit onto the pile. “You might find something wonderful from time to time. Besides, every little bit helps to build the fortune.”
Once they had piled the bodies, they gathered wood and put it on top of the stack. Thrang ignited the piled wood with his inferno command, standing back to watch as the flames spread. Alex watched with Thrang as the fire consumed the dead men, and then he turned and walked back to the campfire. He tried not to think about the bandits burning a short distance away, but it was difficult not to. It was one thing to kill a troll and have it turn to stone, but this was something else.
“Not much,” said Bregnest, separating the small pile of treasure into eight smaller piles. “Though the horses will bring a fair price in Techen.”
“Techen?” Alex questioned.
“A small city, four or five days’ ride from here,” Bregnest answered. “I hadn’t planned to stop there, but if we have horses to sell, it will be worth it.”
“And we might be able to get some information about Varlo and the lands around it,” added Thrang.
“Varlo is the resting place of Slathbog,” explained Arconn before Alex could ask. “It was an ancient city, and very rich. Which is why the dragon came there, of course.”
“How much do we know about Varlo?” Alex asked.
“Little more than what Arconn has just said,” Thrang replied. “We do know there was a great castle, its foundation set deep in the mountain’s side.”
“And deep in the mountain is where the worm will be hidden,” said Tayo in a grim tone. “He’s not likely to leave his hoard above ground.”
Alex knew almost nothing about dragons and what they would or would not be likely to do. The Adventurer’s Handbook said little about dragons and nothing about Slathbog. He wondered how much more his companions could tell him about dragons, certain he would need all the information he could get before facing Slathbog.
Skeld and Halfdan returned with a string of twenty horses. The horses looked well cared for, which surprised Alex. He thought they would be unhealthy and uncared-for creatures, judging by what he’d seen of the bandits who had been riding them.
“We found these easily enough,” said Skeld with his normal smile. “The others have run further than we cared to
follow.”
“Anything in the saddlebags?” questioned Thrang.
“We haven’t looked,” Halfdan replied, glancing back at the horses. “Thought it best to come back with these than wait around for an arrow in the back.”
“You mean there are more bandits out there?” Alex asked in a concerned tone.
“If there are, they are few,” Bregnest replied. “And after last night’s events, they’ll stay well clear of us.”
Skeld and Halfdan dismounted and began taking the saddlebags off the captured horses. To Thrang’s delight, the contents of the saddlebags more than tripled the amount of treasure they had to divide. Alex hesitated, thinking that the bandits were men after all and not monsters.
“Don’t trouble yourself over them,” said Tayo, watching Alex’s face. “Once a man becomes a bandit, he is no longer truly a man.”
“I don’t understand,” said Alex.
“They become wild and cruel,” said Thrang, taking notice of the discussion. “Bandits don’t care about nothing but stealing and killing. In most lands there’s a bounty on them. They’re nothing more than a plague to all people.”
Alex nodded his understanding and took his share of the treasure, trying to forget his misgivings about the bandits being men.
“We’ll ride to Techen,” said Bregnest as they prepared to depart. “If the rains hold off, we should make it in four days.”
“And if the rains come, it will be five or six,” Skeld replied. “And the horses won’t look so good when we try to sell them.”
“Then I expect you to take care of them,” answered Bregnest with a smile. “And if they don’t fetch a fair price, you’ll make up the difference to us all.”
Skeld laughed loudly and Alex wondered if anything ever dimmed his happy mood. Skeld’s endless happiness made Alex’s heart feel lighter so he was glad that Skeld was with them.
The rains held off for two days as the company rode toward Techen and they made good time both days. The morning of their third day, though, the rain started falling, building into a terrific downpour before midday. Alex and his friends moved slowly along the muddy and slick road. The rain continued as they stopped to camp for the night.
“At least we can eat without getting any wetter,” Skeld laughed, shaking his head like a dog.
The company’s mood had darkened slightly because they were all soaked to the skin and unhappy about it. The muddy road had slowed their progress as well, and Bregnest said he thought it would be at least two more days before they reached Techen.
“Remember, when we reach Techen, we are trading horses. Nobody is to speak of our goal to anyone,” warned Bregnest. “I will make a few inquiries about Varlo and see if there is anything I can learn.”
The company agreed with Bregnest’s plan, though Alex thought eight adventurers turning up and trading bandit ponies was sure to attract interest from the people of Techen. If anyone knew anything about Varlo, they would quickly suspect that Alex and his friends were headed there.
“Perhaps they will,” agreed Arconn when Alex spoke his mind that night during his watch. “But many adventurers come and go on different quests and most ask about Varlo.”
“If they’re on a different quest, why do they ask?” Alex questioned.
“For future reference,” replied Arconn. “Every adventurer dreams of one day seeking a dragon’s hoard, as that is one of the richest quests an adventurer can go on. So, many will ask, but few will ever attempt the challenge.”
“Is it really that dangerous?” Alex asked.
“It won’t be easy,” answered Arconn. “Though nothing of importance ever is. Bregnest is following a dream of his own, and a prophecy. Both will help us, I think.”
“Prophecy?”
“Yes, but it is not mine to speak of,” said Arconn. “We will discuss what I know of dragons tomorrow night during your watch. Though I know little enough, I may know as much as any other.”
“May I ask you something else?” Alex questioned.
“You should rest, your watch has passed,” said Arconn.
“It’s about my sword,” said Alex. “About the feelings I had when we were fighting the b
andits.”
“Ah, I wondered how the sword might affect you,” said Arconn. “Many emotions are bound to the magic of your sword. Tell me, what did you feel?”
“It is hard to explain, but while I was using the sword, I felt almost like laughing out loud and crying at the same time.”
“And after the battle?”
“I didn’t really feel anything after. I just . . . well, I just knew that I’d done what was needed. I didn’t feel happy or sad or anything.”
Arconn looked into the darkness beyond the fire. “The elves who made your sword took great joy and pride in their work, yet they also had great sorrow because they were forced to create weapons of destruction. The magic they put into your sword holds both their joy and their sorrow. So when the magic enters you . . .”
“I feel their emotions as well,” said Alex.
“Yes. I would guess the joy was greater, as the sword was being used to destroy evil. Still, it is a terrible kind of joy, one tempered by much sorrow.”
“Yes,” said Alex. “It was a terrible joy.”
“Do not be troubled, Alex,” Arconn went on. “The emotions will always be there, but I think, in time, they will not trouble you so much.”
“Thank you for telling me what you know,” said Alex, bowing to Arconn and then making his way to his tent.
The next morning dawned bright and clear. The clouds had drifted away during the night, and the sun came out to dry the waterlogged land. They made good progress that day, but as night crept across the land, there was still no sign of Techen.
That night during his watch, Arconn told Alex all he knew about dragons, which was more than Alex would have guessed.
“Forgive me for saying so, but you seem to have great respect for dragons,” said Alex, as Arconn finished speaking.
“Indeed I do,” said Arconn with a slight smile. “They are powerful and magical creatures; some of them are very noble. It is said in some lands they are friendly to other races. Still, they are all dragons at heart.”
“And what does that mean?” Alex asked.