Grendy shrugged and turned back to walk away in the northern direction towards the Dream River.
They both walked away, stopping to wave back at her. She nodded with her arrow still ready and tossed the hunting knife at their feet and then grabbed her extra folded blanket, which she thought was the softer of her two, and tossed it to them as well.
Grendy picked it them both up, and yelled back, "Bless you, Mi--"
"Aeile!" she shouted back. "My name is Aeile! And you're welcome!" She noticed Frikk shaking his head in disapproval and whispering something at Grendy.
She decided right then she would make a mounded impression of herself in her bedroll tonight and sleep in the large oak tree about thirty feet away. She had slept in trees many times and had only fallen once when she had made a bad knot in her tie-in line.
6
Emmanora
Emmanora felt a small wet something poking at her face and delicate scratches. She heard a rattling purr and knew it was Bandit. She opened her eyes and saw her raccoon friend standing on his haunches next to her head, moving his head back and forth and opening his mouth to bare his little sharp teeth in celebration. He crawled up onto her chest and stood on his haunches there and reached with his open paws to the light above them.
"Fuck, Oww! Bandit! You're squishing me! I'm injured! My shoulder is on fire!"
She was laying on her back. She hurt all over. For a moment she thought she had tunnel vision, then she realized she was staring up at the sky from a hole in the ground. She had landed on her back and fell into a pocket of space in the earth, another undiscovered pocket of space between the redwood tree roots. The shallow crust of earth had padded her fall. She remembered stepping into the occasional hole around the tree and knew there must be more hollow ground in the area. Now she had found it. She seemed to be about five feet down. Gnarled roots and tufts of grass outlined the opening above not much unlike the shape of her figure.
"We gotta get out of here, Bandit, but I don't wanna move. I think I might fucking die if I do. I'm pretty banged up."
Bandit chattered and crawled down by her side.
She could feel insects crawling on her legs beneath her leather pants and inside her cuirass. She felt the crusty tightness of dried blood on her neck and chest. She used her arms to lift herself upright and groaned in pain. She winced when her knee banged into the ornate spiral-caged hilt on Heartnail. She had somehow landed in the same spot of ground as her rapier and created a sinkhole that brought it down with her. At least she still had it. Then a thought came to her. "Oh, no," she said before she jumped up and scrambled her way up from the hole in a frenzy, not even stopping to grab Heartnail and take it with her.
Clods of earth and beetles fell away from her as she stood staring at a long black column of smoke billowing into the sky from charred bits of wood where her treehouse used to be in the redwood tree. "Oh, no! You fucking cunt!"
Bandit climbed out from the hole and nuzzled her knee. She looked down, and he held a small ruby in his black paw.
"Ruby!" He was nowhere to be found. She ran over to where he had been resting. When she looked down into the dry dirt where he had been standing and chewing grass, she made fists and started shaking. The area on the ground was covered in deep gouges in the shape of camel feet with the heel dug in as if he were resisting being pulled, but what made her fists shake were blood splats the size of large coins leading down the path going away from the redwood into the grass.
Emmanora felt a tug on her boot flap.
Bandit looked up at her. He stood on his haunches and held the ruby up, offering it to her.
"Bandit! That bitch sister of mine took Ruby! I'm gonna fucking stab her in the cunt, I swear it!" She stopped then, and if her heart hadn't bottomed out already, it did now as she realized that Bandit wasn't just trying to tell her that Ruby had been taken. "Oh shit, no!" She snatched the ruby from Bandit and ran to the entrance of her treasure cellar.
She forgot she had left the hatch open in her panic up the redwood tree. She climbed down and saw her lantern still brightly burning, but nothing remained. Liobe had stolen all her acquired wealth from over six years. "Where did she put it? How could she carry all of it?" She looked up at the hole. Bandit stared down at her sniffing. "She must have someone with her."
Bandit dropped and scampered off down the beaten path that they'd both traversed daily for years. It forked off farther down, the left went to the stream she got her water from and the right led to a trade route to Gladstone.
"Very well but wait!" she cried, wincing from the pain it caused in her shoulder wound to do so. She would have to stop at some point and tend to it before it got infected. For now, she had left the rapier in the sinkhole she'd fallen into. "I've gotta go get Heartnail!"
* * * *
Night had come and defeated her pursuit. It felt like over an hour had passed, but she couldn't be sure of anything. Bandit had sniffed and discovered horse tracks and manure in the woods about a mile out from the redwood. Liobe had been with two other riders. There were tracks for three horses. She had followed them for at least three more miles in the wood, but her wound had drained her of the energy she had mustered from her anger. Now, she had leaned on a birch tree too long and slowly slumped into a daze lying against it. She had stripped her armor and padding underneath. It felt good to feel the air on what little breasts she had. She was drenched in sweat. She feared she might be feverish. Bandit kept bringing her blackberries from somewhere in the wood. She had been so distraught she had left her waterskin. She needed a drink. The only thing keeping her conscious was the juice in the blackberries. Her head was too clouded to be certain, but she thought there should be a creek cutting across the path somewhere ahead with a running stream. If only she could crawl a small distance, she could wash her wound.
"I need a drink, Bandit," she said. "Water."
He was lying across her legs. He perked up his ears and looked into her eyes and chattered. He was very smart for a raccoon. She knew he knew the word 'drink'. She had offered him a sip enough times from her waterskin, just as she did Ruby. She had nothing to put it in if he figured it out. She tried to think of an alternative. Her boot would hold liquid, but it was too big for Bandit to manage.
Emmanora sighed. She dug into her moon-moth powder pouch and filled her pipe. She could at least numb some pain. As she pulled out the pouch with the powder, she realized the pouch was leak-proof goat gut and the perfect size for Bandit to carry.
Once she emptied out the pouch on a leaf, she packed her pipe bowl and used her flint and dagger to make a flame out of some crumbled dry leaves. She used a rolled-up leaf to light the bowl and took a drag of the moon moth. Then she grabbed the pouch and called Bandit closer to her. She held it up to her mouth as if to drink from it. "I need a drink, buddy. Drink. Water, see?"
Bandit chattered and dipped and lifted his head as if to swim.
She handed it to him.
"Go fetch momma a drink, all right?"
He took and sniffed at it then licked it on the side. Suddenly he bounded off with it down the path, hobbling awkwardly as he tried to walk with only three paws.
She closed her eyes and hoped for the best, taking another drag of moon moth. The numbness crept into her limbs and soon her shoulder pain was gone. A welcome night breeze cooled the sweat on her naked torso. She could see the small pile of crumbled leaves still smoldering beside her, so she kept stirring it and helping it grow into a tiny fire with little sticks beside her. Soon she had a tiny campfire. She knew what she needed to do next, and she did not look forward to it.
She didn't realize she had nodded off in the caress of the moon moth, but she awoke to Bandit climbing on her lap. In his paws, he held her moon moth pouch. She took it from him gently and found it had about a shot of water in the bottom. He had carried on two legs somehow and probably spilled most on the way, but she was still impressed. "Oh, Bandit! Thank you, so much!" She downed it and scratched behind his ears an
d back for a good while.
Suddenly, Bandit sensed danger. He snarled, clawing into her thighs in alarm.
"Ow!" she cried out.
He ran up the birch tree she rested against about three feet and stared, growling at something down the path from where he had come with the water.
She felt it too. The air felt unnatural. The hairs on her arms stood up like after a lightning strike.
Bandit chattered and disappeared up the tree.
Emmanora shivered. An icy pocket of air had crept up on her. Her arms were numb, but she reached for her rapier anyways. She held it poised in one hand and slowly shoulder walked herself with her back to stand against the tree.
A black misty figure with swirling wisps of smoke approached her. It had shining stars for eyes and a spiked black crown on its head. It stood easily three times her height.
She rubbed her eyes, unsure if she was seeing things.
It stopped in front of her and stared at her for what felt like a long time. At last, she pushed forward with the point of Heartnail as warning.
"You can try to vanquish me, but you will find it a fruitless endeavor. I'm here to bring you peace. What if I told you I could give you something that would help you bring vengeance to your enemies?" The voice boomed inside her head as if her mind created echoes for it.
She nodded.
"I am the King of Scion. I come to prepare the way for my people in the world. You swear faith to me, and help me to accomplish this, and I will grant you a gift of power greater than any you've imagined."
"Well, I still think I'm dreaming, so very well, if it please you. Why the fuck not? I've never seen anyone walking around as a smoking shadow before, but fuck it. Why not? If you think you've pinned me for this, count me in. What do I do, get down on my knees?" She muttered a laugh.
The King of Scion reached out and put his hand on her shoulder wound. "Weapons will only be a path for death to travel from you. You will walk as one with the shadows as a path to snuff out life."
A tingling swelled in her shoulder and stung her deep within the wound. It wormed through her insides and found its way to her heart where it throbbed and drove her into convulsions.
"Your weapons will turn blood to stone!" he said.
She dropped Heartnail, and collapsed, panting for air. She vomited blood. When she saw her hand on the ground holding her up, her veins pulsed inky-black and her fingernails darkened. Her head pounded like she had been struck with a hammer. She screamed.
A silence followed for a while before the King spoke. "It is done. Go forth and assassinate all the kings and rulers in this land. I will return when you have completed this task."
As she lay on her side, she watched his smoky boots turn and walk into the darkness. "Wait! What? How? What is done? I don't understand what's happening to me. I'm dreaming, right?"
"Rest and live as you've never lived." His voice seemed to grow more distant. "You are now a Vanguard of Scion."
She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
7
IVANOS
Ivanos rode up to the gates to Red Wolf Keep. He pulled three times on the long rope hanging to the side of the grid iron gates that clanged a rusty iron bell suspended on the castle wall above. The bell did its job well, reverberating loudly across the castle grounds.
Within a minute, a guard wearing brass armor and a helmet crested with four red wolf tails appeared on the inside and addressed him through the grid iron gates. "Who are you?" he barked.
"I am a freelancer. My name is Ivanos Jorganaut. I was commissioned by squire Phillip to hunt a red caribou and bring him a pelt. I have brought him two." Ivanos patted the two rolled up pelts tied behind his saddle. Velvet backed up a couple of steps and dipped her head up and down. "Shhh, girl." Ivanos tugged on her reins.
KILL HIM. CUT THROUGH THE IRON GATES WITH YOUR SWORD AND CLEAVE HIM IN HALF.
The guard giggled. "Squire Phillip, you say? I wouldn't believe that nonsense except for the fact that you're sitting on a warhorse. Looks thoroughbred as well, not easy to come by unless you're a lord or a knight. Don't see many mercenaries riding thoroughbreds. You didn't steal it, did you? Can't be letting thieves into the keep. King Ingul would behead me himself."
Ivanos sighed. "No. I give you my word I have never stolen even a penny. I am an honorable warrior and wish to serve your King Ingul as a knight."
The guard sighed. "I doubt you will get far with that. Most start out as pages, and then they squire for years. Few get the chance, some after they've squired for years. Least till the knight's ranks grow thin. Anyways, Squire Phillip and all the knights are off killing the trog folk on the border. They keep raiding villages and stealing crops and horses. Supposed to have been back yesterday, but they run a day late at times. Trogs are a tough bunch of savages. I couldn't just let you in even if they were here, but I could key you in on a useful notion if you offered me a bit of incentive let's call it."
Velvet shifted her hooves, flipped her black tail and snorted.
"Easy girl." Ivanos rubbed her neck. "Incentive? Well." He adjusted himself in his saddle. "I've been riding for hours and I'm a bit sore. Otherwise, I might could dismount and dance a jig for you. I would sing you a song but I'm afraid my voice is shit. If it's coin you want, I've none."
The guard held up a leather-gloved hand which had been helping him to lean with both hands on a spear. "Nice armored gloves you've got there. Our smith doesn't provide such fine craftsmanship for guards."
KILL HIM. USE YOUR SWORD. I AM WITH YOU ALWAYS AND MY TOUCH ON YOUR SWORD WILL MAKE IT AS SHARP AS LIGHTNING.
Ivanos gazed down at his armored hand for seconds. "How useful is this notion?"
"You want in the castle? There is a way I can promise you, and once you're in, it will be days before anyone notices you as a stranger unless you go mingling about the wrong areas." The guard was smiling now and leaning over with all his weight on his spear.
Ivanos turned Velvet slightly away from the gate. "Honestly, my good fellow. It's dishonorable as a knight-- I mean it's not my nature to hide and steal personal victories by such shady behavior. I will gladly camp in the forest and watch for the knights to return along the road."
FOOL!
"Suit yourself," the guard said. I'll be round if ya change your mind."
Ivanos gave Velvet a soft nudge and turned her completely around, and they began to depart down the road.
"Wait!" the guard called out. "Ah hell, I might as well tell ya anyways! Come back tomorrow night. It's a festival! The castle gates will be open to all! House of the Dead celebration!"
Ivanos gave Velvet another soft kick, and she sped her pace in leaving the castle outskirts of clean-cut grass and manicured shapely hedges along the road.
Dusk cloaked the forest by the time they were a mile out, Ivanos had set up a minimal campsite for the night where he could clearly see passers on the road.
He did not want to make a fire. A fire would only be a beacon to curious travelers and men of questionable character, and he did not want the knights of Red Wolf to come upon him by surprise if they happened to be on their way home in the night. Unfortunately, it was a colder spring night. He had removed his armor and found warmth in draping the red caribou hides over him like cloaks. A clear sky gave the forest floor a glow from the waning crescent moon and thousands of bright stars with globular clusters of blue and violet striped from one horizon to the other.
After an hour of staring up at the stars and listening to the sea of cricket songs and seeing green tracers of fireflies, footsteps in the leaves triggered his warrior alertness. At first, he thought it was probably Velvet stamping around the tree he had tethered her to, but she was only a few feet away from him and in the opposite direction. This noise was farther away but approaching from within the forest, and its gait sounded human. It moved closer in short sprints and paused for moments before moving again.
Ivanos silently reached out from his bedroll and untied the
sheath that held his longsword with one hand. Very slowly and without the smallest of rustling, he managed to rise to his feet and stand with his sword in a defensive stance.
The noise came again, closer still. It seemed nearly upon him in the camp.
"Who is there?" he said finally. "I'm prepared to bring you down should you not identify yourself!"
DO IT NOW! RUN AT THEM AND CUT THEM DOWN! I AM HERE WITH YOU. YOU WILL NOT FAIL.
The hilt of his sword tingled in his hands, a strange prickly sensation he had never felt before. He took a few steps in the direction he'd heard them last. He caught movement then from behind a tree not fifteen feet away. A quarter silhouette of something on two legs and taller than any average man stood peering at him. It had an animalistic looking face for what he could make out, but it could still be a helmet of some kind.
KILL IT! NOW!
Without another thought, he charged at it with sword pulled back for a downward diagonal slash. His longsword crackled with sparks and small tendrils of lightning as he swiped down at the figure, the sword swiped clean through the tree as easily as he might cut through a melon. He heard a roar and a gurgle. The flash of sparks from the severed tree revealed a great bear tipping back on all fours that fled off into the forest. The tree was about a foot in diameter and toppled to the side crashing down on the forest floor and causing several small rodents to flee from their sleeping nests within.
Ivanos stood, mouth open in confusion. He stared down at the blade in his hands. "Great Blackened Sun," he muttered to himself. "I must be dreaming." He thought of his encounter with the shadowy figure, this 'King of Scion'. He had been hearing voices in his head lately. Am I getting the madness of the elderly, he thought? Or perhaps the demons of my past are festering into haunts in my mind?
He hacked at the tree stump, still smoldering where it had been cut before, and his sword only chipped off a few pieces of bark. He cursed himself for it. Now, he had only damaged the sharpened edge. It seemed to behave no differently than any longsword. He turned back towards the camp and sat back down on his bedrolls holding his sword still in his lap. He got out his whetstone and began to hone it against the edge to repair the damage he had caused.
The Vanguards of Scion Page 4