A Choice of Blades: The Blade Remnant, Book One

by D. N. Woodward

  He came up grinning. Reed stared at him dumbfounded. "Do that again."

  Once again, Leon reached for the connection, but all he could picture was Reed's red face. Before he knew it, he was flat on his back. Things became painful afterward, and the night's sparring went an extra half-hour longer than normal.

  # # #

  At just a little over two weeks after their encounter with the Vin, the group saw changes within the forest. First, their path transitioned from gently rolling terrain into rougher grade slopes. Then the river they followed took a switchback and vanished around a bend to the south. Sved insisted they continue northwest. So, they left the comfort of the river.

  Afterward, Leon felt they moved uphill more than downhill as they steadily gained elevation, into more of a hill country-esque type area. The forest fauna grew older as the trees grew even larger. Shady deciduous hardwoods gave way to sprawling evergreens. Sved claimed this was good, that it meant they were drawing closer toward the border valleys, where they could finally turn north. He claimed to know of a cousin of a cousin who had skirted the forest boundaries of the Ageless Tribe, much as he planned to do and returned to tell the tale.

  Leon attempted to bury his growing anxieties under the struggles of learning new things from his travel companions. Reed's blunt approach to training continued to hammer him into a well-conditioned fighting machine, but it wasn't his favorite. By far, his newest found passion was archery.

  He grew up an avid hunter in a place where hunting was encouraged. Yet, his previous style of hunting, the old Texas deer feeder near a deer blind equipped with propane heater style of hunting, couldn’t much hold a candle to the true art of hunting practiced by Rezz. When Rezz went out solo, the camp seldom went without fresh meat. He could stalk his prey through all manner of terrain. He had the kind of accuracy that transcended talent. The kind that could only be reached through a lifetime of consistent practice.

  All it took was an invitation to tag along on one hunt and Leon had the bug. He begged his new friend to teach him to hunt and shoot like he did. Despite the fact Leon knew how to use a compound bow back home, it took over a week of consistent practice with the longbow and a never-ending tutorial on the basics of spot and stalk tactics, before Rezz felt confident Leon was ready to give it a try. The morning Leon went out to lead his first hunt was the day everything went wrong.

  Leon’s heart raced as he struggled to control his breathing. He had what Gus had always called Buck Fever, and he had it bad, for good reason. He tried to relax where he rested, crouching comfortably on a knee behind a clump of ferns, arrow knocked, ready to draw. He was finally in perfect position.

  The dappled red and slate gray hide of the stag, standing not twenty yards away, belonged to a true forest king. His sheer size would give any Canadian elk a run for its money, and his antlers were gnarly and dark, they looked almost blue in places. Such a prize would feed their party for a long time to come.

  Just one last step! Come on, big fella. One last step, and we will be eating venison stew tonight!

  As if on cue, the stag moved gracefully forward into position and raised its head sniffing at something on the breeze. Leon gasped. He had the perfect heart shot from an exposed broadside position between two saplings. Then, in the split second it took for him to silently draw his arrow back, the buck bolted.

  Leon released the tension on the bow and, hands shaking, set it and his unused arrow down against a nearby bush. Disgust swelled up from deep down in his gut. He pulled his hat off and threw it down as well. Then he vented his frustrations to the forest at large, “Son of a biscuit!”

  It had taken him and Rezz two hours to circle into perfect cover to make the shot. Now, as far as he knew, their quarry was in another county, and they had a long, empty-handed, jog ahead of them if they were going to be able to catch up with the rest of their party in time for lunch, which just happened to be leftovers from Rezz's more successful boar hunt the day before.

  He reluctantly turned to Rezz to face up to his failure. The man was already grinning back at him, “Chin up Leon, just about everyone comes up empty-handed from time to time. The fact is, I have no idea what you could have done to spook the old forest father. It just happens that way sometimes…not to me of course, but to most people.” His wink spoke volumes.

  Leon grinned back and prepared a good-natured comeback when Rezz went taut and tilted his ears into the wind. Leon froze as well, not knowing what was going on but having come to trust the man’s well-honed senses within the forest environment.

  Rezz whispered, “Gently, slowly, reach down and hand me the bow. Do it, now.”

  Leon complied and did as he was told. Using slow, deliberate movements, Rezz took it and the quiver from Leon’s shoulder, “Now, when I say go, I want you to climb up the nearest tree you can find. Don’t come down until I tell you all is clear. Understand?”

  Leon nodded.

  “Go!”

  Leon sprinted for a sturdy tree ten feet away. The zip of arrows and the thrashing of something large in the trees made his heart thump in double time, but he didn’t stop to look. He was ten feet above ground before he paused to take a glance at his surroundings. Everything was still. Even the birds had gone quiet. Rezz was gone.

  He waited for what felt like an eternity but was actually closer to five minutes before Rezz came racing up out of nowhere, silent as always. He paused beneath Leon's tree, never allowing his eyes to pause in their scan of the surrounding forest.

  “Down now, we have to go.”

  No explanation was offered, and Leon knew enough not to stop and ask. They tore through the woods. Rezz looked to have seen a ghost and considering the source, that was enough for Leon to suck wind and pump legs as fast and for as far as they could carry him.

  When they finally caught up with their companions, Leon was running low on adrenaline and nursing a cramp in his side that wouldn’t have let him breathe even if he wasn’t out of breath already. Rezz wasted no small talk.

  “There’s a troupe of Fridgit Hunters somewhere behind us. We were stalking a stag when they caught our scent. I killed one before the two stalking us could attack, but the other gave me the slip. We need to move.”

  From the astonished looks of the others and their immediate responsiveness, Leon could tell things were not good, though he couldn’t understand what could cause such concern. Reed caught his eye and gave him a questioning look, but all Leon could do was shrug helplessly to indicate he had no idea.

  After a minute or two, he was able to breathe normally again. Then, just as his pulse shifted down out of high gear, the whole party took off at a light jog. Leon groaned before he set off once more.

  This was not how this day was supposed to go!

  # # #

  Merle turned back twice to growl at something following in the shadows and twice Leon had to call him back. Minutes turned to hours, and still, they jogged. It would have been impossible for Leon to carry the pace up and down hills through rural terrain just a few weeks ago, but his legs could now just manage. Sure, his muscles wanted a break, but now that they traveled at a steady pace and not the all-out sprint Rezz had demanded, his stride felt longer. He even took a turn pulling their cart.

  It was nearly evening when they first heard the leaves rustling behind them, along their flanks. Sved relayed the directional orders to the group, “Veer toward the middle of that meadow, then stop. Just stop. Otherwise, they will simply run us to ground, yes?”

  "How far west have we come?" Leon asked.

  "Further than I had planned. Much further," Sved answered.

  “I had hoped they would give up the chase. I was wrong. If we are lucky, it will be an hour or two before the whole troupe catches up and perhaps another hour before they work themselves up into a frenzy to confront us. But they won’t attack without the alpha, so let’s hope he’s at the back of the pack. We will make our stand here tonight, yes? We need a big fire. This cart will have to serve for ki
ndling. Me and the cubs will just have to limp along with the rest of you from here on out.”

  An hour later, as a sturdy fire crackled, Leon and Reed sharpened the tips of a few of the longer wood beams they were able to salvage. In turn, Haddie and Sved heated the already shaved tips of another pair on the fire's embers, hardening them to solid points. Rezz and Dimples stood with their back to the fire, searching the nearby woods for any sign of impending attack.

  "How do you know so much about these creatures, Sved?" Leon inquired.

  "Where I come from, we live near the same western mountain range you see there, only further north. Every so often, a troupe will wander down out of the high country into our marshes. When they elect to claim one of our islands they can be challenging to remove."

  Though the frightening countenance of their pursuers had been generally explained as the group worked, nothing could have prepared Leon for his first glimpse of the alpha behemoth when it came strutting calmly from the woods a few minutes later. The beast was all business. Flinging dirt and debris into the air before him, he flipped over a boulder the size of their cart, before beating on his chest and roaring his challenge into the night sky.

  Leon’s mind simply couldn’t come to terms with that mountain of muscle and mean as it readied its attack. The beast stood over eight feet tall. It had the same general shape and build as an African gorilla, but its fur was long, and its coat was tinted a pale russet color. If any such thing as a Sasquatch ever truly existed back in his own world, Leon was certain it would have cowered at the monster standing there before them.

  Per their plan, Rezz and Dimples moved forward to meet its advance. Rezz pummeled the beast with arrows that only seemed to enrage the creature while Dimples ran forward to meet it halfway between them and the edge of the woods. It charged.

  Dimples stood his ground. At the last minute, he reached down and pulled up their longest spear. While tilting the pointy tip up, he planted the other end in the ground and stepping back, bracing it with his foot. He moved so quickly the beast had no opportunity to completely avoid an impact, but it somehow managed to twist its mighty bulk around, mid-stride. Instead of taking it in the center of the chest, the makeshift spear lightly grazed its hip.

  Everyone watched in horror as the beast ripped the heavy spear from Dimples grasp with one arm. It slammed it into the ground, pounding it to splinters. Then, it reached for Dimples.

  The Hootsi, who had assumed his cat-like form, was only just able to slip from its grip. Meanwhile, Rezz retreated to the fire, firing arrow after arrow the whole time. The arrows provided enough distraction to give Dimples some breathing room, but they didn’t carry the amount of force necessary to deeply penetrate the thick hide of the beast.

  Their whole plan hinged on being able to quickly take down the troupe's leader. They hoped that by doing so, they would dissuade further aggression. Instead, the alpha was only momentarily distracted as it swatted at the feline figure dancing around him.

  Dimples did a fair job of keeping the alpha busy. But he ran a fine line, where any misstep on his part would mean a quick and painful end. Leon realized just how hosed they really were when the alpha beat his chest once more, finally opting to ignore the hissing nuisance at his side. More giant shapes materialized from the forest at the edges of the fire’s light.

  Merle snarled and the griffin cubs shrieked their diminutive threats behind him. Somehow, in the midst of the chaos, Leon felt an itch at his hip. Absentmindedly reaching down with his right hand to scratch it. His hand brushed against the bone hilt handle of his Blade. As soon as his fingers wrapped around that hilt, a tingling sensation worked its way up his arm. In that moment, he turned his head and saw Haddie, clinging to Reed’s arm. Her innocent look of terror sparked an image of Shana’s face. Shana was beyond his reach, but his new friends were there with him. A plan quickly fell together in his mind. Any other time and he would call it crazy but, somehow in the midst of the chaos, it just felt right.

  Leon turned back and told Merle to stay put and guard the cubs. Then, in what he considered either the single most courageous or perhaps most foolish moment of his young life, he tossed the longest spear they had left a good dozen feet out in front of him. He leaped forward, roaring a challenge to the alpha as it continued to swipe at the slippery Hootsi.

  The alpha’s menacing glare turned its focus his direction. That raging force of nature locked eyes with him. At that first glance, Leon thought his knees might turn to jelly. To keep from running away screaming, he did the only thing he could think to do, he sucked his teeth, spit, and belted out one of Gus’s favorite John Wayne movie quotes, “Fill your hands, you sons of…”

  The beast moved from zero to rabbit-on-crack in no time flat, and just like that, the best one-liner he knew fell silent on his tongue. The alpha came trucking it in on all fours, and Leon gave the beast his full concentration. His focus seemed to slow time a tad. He noticed little things, like how the creature threw turf behind him as he charged forward, like some sort of thoroughbred racehorse careening down the last stretch of the derby. The closer he came, the bigger he grew.

  Then, Leon turned on the jets, sheer adrenaline overpowering his every instinct to freeze. He made it to the spear in time. He bent down and grasped the rough wood tightly in both hands. He gritted his teeth and crouching over in a four-point stance, he let loose his own battle cry. His raging scream morphed into a growling roar as warmth spread throughout his whole body. Muscles hardened and expanded under his resolve. Surging power rippled through his veins. But that power tasted differently than in the past. It didn't consume him. His new energy felt like it was being fed to him through the stinger on a power washer rather than flowing from him through the nozzle on a firehose. It was condensed, but it didn't carry him away. The pain was missing too. In its place, he only felt resolve.

  At the very last moment, he swung the pointy tip up to greet his charging adversary as he exploded forward and upward. What he failed to account for was the spear being a few feet too short to simply impale Bigfoot’s big brother. It left him no room to avoid contact.

  The ensuing collision was violent, violent like a freight train smacking into a mountainside kind of violent. When the creature’s hairy shoulder plowed into his chest, Leon felt bones snap, but he continued his surging advance with every ounce of momentum, screaming till all the air had been pushed from his lungs.

  A few moments later, as pain seared through a busted rib cage, Leon could hear nothing but the steady thrumming of his pulse. The world wobbled in and out of existence, spinning to-and-fro as he stumbled sideways, somehow still on his feet. It took a few moments before everything stopped spinning. When it did, a clear starlit sky coalesced in his vision. He could see stars upon stars. They weren’t his stars, the ones he had grown up with back on the ranch, but they were beautiful, peaceful, so aloof from his struggles far below. He barely had time to ponder the glowing violet streaks of light that soared across his vision before the pain flared, and he gave up the fight for conscious thought.

  Chapter 18

  Dawn’s light filtered down through weary eyelids far too early for a sensible person to stir, but before Leon could even contest any promptings to open those tired eyes, a litany of smells and sounds nudged his mind back into some semblance of working order. Birds of all types sang in melodies that blended together to form a soothing rhythmic sort of background noise. His nose caught a whiff of heady herbs and aromatic spices with a hint of wood smoke from a fire nearby. Those smells lingered in the air, cooling the back of his throat, and easing the painful rise and fall of each breath he took.

  He rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. Bad idea. That was when blinding pain decided to remind him of the fool he had played the night before.

  “Ach, No! Short, shallow breaths Bonehead. You just try to relax where you are." The command brokered no refusal, but even so, Leon didn’t have much of a choice due to the shattered state of his chest.
He was painfully aware of every lump and dip in the cushioned support laying beneath his back.

  “That’s it, child. Let Olwena tend to her business, and she’ll get you back to yours…eventually…so long as you keep them busted ribs still…foolish boy…” An airy old woman’s voice continued to mumble and wheeze as Leon heard what sounded like bottles jostling and pans clanging a few feet away.

  Soon, the sounds died down. As he opened his eyes and peeked around at his surroundings for the first time, a wrinkled-up chestnut brown face popped up above his own, startling him and causing another inadvertent intake of air that sent needles through his chest. Frowning lips somehow found the strength to lift themselves into a snaggle-toothed smile.

  When Leon closed his eyes again the old woman whistled in sympathy and ordered him to remain still while she tended his wounds.

  Cool and gentle hands pressed down against the skin on his chest as they applied warm compresses and massaged tender bruising. She asked him several annoying questions like “Needed you awake before we could begin. Does it hurt here?”

  “No.”

  “Here?”

  “No.”

  “Here?”

  “Ouch, yes!”

  She simply cackled and moved on to another area where the process started all over again. Just when Leon had decided to tell the old croon to take a hike, she placed both hands firmly against his lower ribcage and gently pressed down. Something passed through from her to him, and broken and cracked bones shifted back into position! The pain was unbearably intense for a split second, then it melted away in blissful relief as her touch receded. She continued the process up one side and down the other. The on-again off-again process of sudden intense pain followed by instant relief brought tears to his eyes. Still, he savored the momentary remission each time the hurt subsided.

  When her hands slipped from his chest and did not return, Leon opened his eyes once more and turned his head to look on his benefactor with new respect. There before him stood a plain-looking older woman in a shabby rawhide dress with a colorfully beaded scarf. She was still smiling at him, but there was something deeply mournful in those eyes. She held up a withered hand and waved off the concern in his eyes.