by RG Long
"Holve," he said as Blume was getting a drink of water from a creek, just out of earshot. "Perhaps we should take her all the way to the capital of Thoran. I know we planned to find her a home in a city along the way, but that hasn't quite worked out like we had intended. Not to mention she'd be useful if we came into any more situations like we did yesterday."
He knew it was a stretch to ask Holve to allow her to come with them. They would travel more quickly without her that was for sure. But then again, she had healed so well back with the raiders that Ealrin was nearly resolved to take her to the capital to receive some type of training, even if he had to do it by himself.
Holve was studying her as she drank from the creek.
"I don't like the idea of bringing her further away from her home, honestly. Plus, we are still putting her in a lot of danger by having her journey with us. The open road is no place for children."
He paused as he spoke, changing his grip on his spear a few times, as if lost in thought.
"Still," he continued. "Her skill in speaking is unbelievable, considering she has had no formal training. I would like to see what she could accomplish with the proper study."
He glanced up at Ealrin with a look of resolve on his face.
"Let's say this, shall we? We will take her to the capital of Thoran unless we perceive that she is in more danger there than she is here. Such a gift could become useful in the days ahead."
"Agreed," said Ealrin. He was glad Holve had given in so quickly to his idea. Perhaps he had been thinking the same thing? That Blume was useful to them now, and perhaps could become a very skilled Speaker later.
She walked back to where they stood, licking her lips and staring at them both.
"Well, are we going to stand around all day or keep going?" she asked them.
Holve gave Ealrin a look that said, "You wanted her to come" and continued down the road that would take them all the way to Loran, the first mountain town of Thoran.
***
IN THE CITY OF LORAN, the trio was able to barter for a pair of horses. They hardly dared to sleep at the inn for more than a few hours due to the urgency of their message. Holve not only now needed to inform the king that he was bringing scant few recruits for his order of knights (Ealrin being the sole volunteer to survive thus far) but that there was going to be war in The Southern Republic very soon unless Androlion was stopped.
Rumors of the Merc's raiding had already reached as far as Loran, and Holve speculated that the king would be aware of their renewed presence as well. Apparently, he made it his business to know everything he possibly could about the entire continent of Ruyn. Because of this, the king could send aid where it was needed and avoid catastrophes where he was able to intervene.
That morning, they saddled up to prepare to depart from Loran. It would take a full week of riding to reach the capital of Thoran. Ealrin gave Blume the news of what they intended for her to do there.
"Holve has told me that in Thoran there is a small school of magic that is a branch of the larger college in Irradan. How would you like to study the craft of Speaking there? It would give you a place to belong, a new home, and maybe friends as well. You'd know your purpose, which is little better than I can say for myself right now," he said as they rode from Loran in the breaking daylight.
"Do you think they'd really allow me to study there, Ealrin?" she asked him hesitantly. "I overheard Holve telling you that they normally only accept students at a very young age."
Ealrin looked down at her as the horse continued to trot towards the edge of town. He could understand her trepidation, but there still remained her unexplained phenomenal talent.
"Blume, Holve also told me that a Speaker of your skill is normally no less than fifty winters. I don't think they'll be too worried about your age when you show them what you are capable of."
She smiled as she looked to the path they planned to travel on. Ealrin hoped that she would join the small school when they arrived in the capital. It would make him feel as if he had helped her find herself. If the girl with no family could not find a purpose, he would feel as if he had failed her.
Then again, over and over Blume had proven herself to be more resilient to tragedy and adversity than even Holve predicted. She had never once complained during their journey about sleeping on the hard ground, or eating the rough food on the road. She had traveled very well, all things considered. She had certainly gotten more adventure than she had hoped for.
With her purpose all but resolved, Ealrin began to wonder what would become of him when they reached the capital. Holve had a job to do as a general of the king's army once more with the unrest in the south. Would the king as a recruit accept Ealrin? He had certainly been able to defend himself against Merc and goblin alike since departing from Good Harbor. Somewhere in his past, he must have learned how to handle a sword, for it was easier each time he had needed to use it to fight.
Still.
What would the king say of a man who had no memory and had only just met Holve within the last few weeks? Would he trust Ealrin enough to allow him to stay? Or would he think that the whole thing was a plot by Ealrin to... To what?
Maybe he was worrying too much about nothing. But there was some nagging feeling he had that he would not find his purpose with the King of Thoran.
He prayed he would.
Having no memory had not stopped him from helping those in need. He wanted to continue to help in whatever way he could.
***
ON THEIR FIFTH NIGHT of traveling, with the capital all but a day and a half away from them, the trio was encouraged that everything had gone as smoothly as it had. The roads had been clear of thieves and troublemakers. The weather had also been on their side. Normally the spring brought rain to the mountain ranges of Thoran, as it was want to cause clouds to form in the bowl of peaks that surrounded the country. No, this trip had gone very well.
So when they set up camp that night, after they had traveled farther than they had managed the day before, the group felt at ease and glad for the respite they would get during a good night's sleep under the protection of the giant tree they had set up camp under.
Ealrin had tried his best to hunt with the stolen bow and arrow, but was a terrible shot, no matter how still he held the bow or how much he tried to compensate for a flying bird or animal that would run away. Holve, on the other hand, was successful in bringing down two fowls and a mountain rabbit. They feasted on the freshly caught game as well as some roots that Blume had dug up from the soil around their camp. She had proven that she was able to identify edible plants from the dangerous ones. This was a very useful skill for anyone in the wild and Holve was impressed with her foraging skills.
"I told Ealrin that I normally don't travel with any companions, but I'm beginning to warm up to you two. The journey has not seemed nearly as long as it normally is. I may begin to travel accompanied from now on," Holve said as he took another bite of the bird he had shot.
"Don't go getting soft on me now, Holve," said Blume through a mouthful of rabbit.
She had definitely acquired a taste for it on this journey, Ealrin thought.
Whenever it was available she was pleased to help herself to it. "I've just now become accustomed to your disapproving glances!"
It started out a low chuckle in Ealrin, which made Holve start laughing in earnest. Before long the three of them were howling with laughter, which echoed throughout the night and into the tree they camped under.
And made the approach of twenty Mercs into the light of their fire that much more difficult to hear.
27: The King’s Swords
"Well, if it isn't the trio that escaped Breyland and gave General Vyncent such a hard time outside of Loran," sneered the man who was obviously in charge of the operation. He was not someone Ealrin had seen before.
He held next to him a giant sword whose handle extended to almost as tall as he was. His hair was braided into a single braid that came acro
ss his left shoulder. The suit of armor he wore was dotted with small plates of metal that would allow him to move around easily but also deflect blows that were not straight and precise. The smile on his face said that he knew a secret that no one else did, and loving the fact that he hid it from those present.
His guard of men, the other nineteen or so that now surrounded the group, was armed with swords, spears, axes and other hand weapons. Ealrin was grateful that none carried bows, however the feeling was short lived, as he knew they were outnumbered six to one and that was taking Blume into account. He had only seen her heal wounds, not use her ability as a Speaker to fight. He hoped she had something up her sleeve; otherwise this would be a short battle.
Both he and Holve were separated from their weapons. Ealrin's was still in its sheath that was resting beside the saddle of the horse. A convenient spot for some time that wasn't this very moment. Holve's spear was sitting next to Blume, who was seated opposite him on the other side of the fire.
They were totally unprepared for this and it was not going to be easy to come out alive.
Holve, as usual, broke the silence that hung in the air after the man's remark.
"Well, I must congratulate you. It's been a long time since someone has been able to sneak up on me without my noticing. Well done."
After saying this he rose to his feet and stretched, as if the whole affair were quite casual, and twenty men didn't stand poised to strike at him if he made a wrong move. He turned so that he could see the one who had spoken clearly. Meanwhile, Ealrin was trying to judge the distance between himself and his sword, and if he could grab it and be back by Blume's side in time to aid her in any way.
"My master would like to congratulate you for dispatching some of his best scouts. He admires skill when he sees it and would like to recognize you for it," said the man who Ealrin assumed must be a general or other leader in the Merc army.
"Those were some of your best?" Holve asked in mock surprise. "I must say you really need a larger pool to search from if that's all you can come up with. Though with your 'masters' views, I'm not surprised you have such a small range to choose from."
"He offers to you a way to repay him for the loss of his men," the man continued, ignoring Holve's comment for the time being. "Join him and all will be forgiven."
"I think it's safe to assume you know my answer is no, correct?" replied Holve. Was Ealrin imagining this or was he taking a different stance than Ealrin was used to seeing? At the moment he couldn't tell because, out of the corner of his eye, he watched Blume move her hand slowly to the necklace around her neck and begin to mutter a string of words he couldn't understand under her breath.
"If you choose not to come willingly, I have orders to bring you back alive by whatever means necessary so that he might tempt you into his service personally."
The men surrounding their campfire moved in to tighten up their circle. Most hoisted their arms carrying their weapons into a ready to strike position. Ealrin had all but decided that he was going to do his best to run for his sword while dragging Blume with him to protect her, when he heard the rustle of the tree above him. And was that Blume whispering to his left as well? Several of the men who surrounded them looked up to see what was causing the disturbance. That was when the very limbs of the tree came crashing down on them, as if they were arms that belonged to a very large giant or troll.
It was all Ealrin needed, he jumped to his feet and grabbed Blume by the scruff of her neck. She gasped quickly as she was pulled from her spot and was now being dragged to the place where Ealrin's sword rested. A Merc jumped out from behind the horse at them and at the same time, two arrows caught him in the chest.
Ealrin didn't take the time to see where the arrows came from or to find out if they were intended for him or the raider. He simply grabbed his sword from its sheath and turned to see that less than six of the original twenty still stood. Some had fallen due to the smashing they had received from the tree and the others were dead from arrows protruding from them in various angles.
There was someone fighting for them from the outside, which he was sure of. But what was causing the tree to come to life and aid them as well? Ealrin looked at Blume, whom he had drug with him to the tree and saw a look of exhaustion in her face. He knew now that the tree had acted based on Blume's wishes and that now she was losing her energy from speaking so mighty an act to occur. She would be defenseless in moments.
Ealrin took up a guarded pose, with his horse and the tree it was tied to behind him. He stood over Blume, who sat at his feet. He would not move from this spot. He would guard Blume with his life.
Holve had acted just as quickly as Ealrin. As the arrows began to fly he dove for his spear and recovered by rolling in the grass towards a man with a spear of his own. The two exchanged only a few blows before Holve gained the upper hand and turned his attention to a foe that was still living.
The general had watched all this happen with snarling contempt. Ealrin knew that he would not be as easily defeated as his guards were. He took up his giant sword and began his slow and purposeful walk towards Ealrin. The look of loathing in his eyes was evident. Ealrin could tell that he was looking into the eyes of a man who did not like to lose.
Around them men and women were coming into the light of the fire. These were not the raiders who had originally encircled them, but instead these newcomers wore uniform colors and imagery on their clothes. Ealrin hoped he would live long enough to thank them for their rescue and to see what image they wore on their maroon colored garb. Currently, he readied himself to defend Blume from the death gaze of the man who was but a few steps away from him.
"Surrender the girl to me and I'll let you live," he said as he held his sword's handle with both hands. Ealrin was mystified as to how he could lift the massive blade. Why would he want Blume? Had he seen her speaking to the elements earlier and knew that was how his men were crushed by the limbs of the tree?
"You'll claim her only after my life has spilled from me," Ealrin said with much more confidence than he felt. And yet, as when he had first run to Blume's aid in Weyfield, he knew that he must defend her. That in some way, her life was tied to his. He would not allow her to be taken or killed before he no longer had breath in him to defend her with.
"Fool," was his only response as he lifted his blade and lunged forward to attack.
The brute force of his weapon striking Ealrin's knocked him back against the trunk of the tree. This man was monstrously strong. Ealrin made several attempts to swing his blade at him. All were deflected as easily as one swats at a fly. Ealrin was outclassed and overpowered. Yet he would not give up.
The general made another forceful swing of his blade at Ealrin and again, it knocked him back towards his horse. This was not the way to win this battle. He dove quickly to the man's feet and made to kick his legs out from underneath him, yet as he was in the air, the handle of the general's blade knocked him to the ground. Ealrin felt the wind go out of him. He saw the mighty blade rise into the air. He would be dead after the first swing of it.
Then two men came from Ealrin's right and threw themselves into his foe. With his preoccupation with Ealrin, the man was caught off guard and knocked backwards by the force of the two. They quickly regained their footing and raised their swords in preparation to strike.
Outraged that he had been denied his kill, the general let out a fierce howl of rage, and then began chanting in the same language that Blume had when she had healed her wounds by the river. Yet this sounded darker. More like the rumbling of thunder before a storm. And then both his eyes and his blade began to shine with a deep purple light, faintly at first, and then darker. The light rose from its source as if it were smoke from a fire and dissipated into the night sky.
Ealrin had managed to find his breath and his footing and returned to stand over Blume. She was barely holding up her head and breathing heavily, as if she had run a great distance and just now stopped to rest. Sweat poured fr
om her forehead and Ealrin could tell in her eyes that only sheer determination kept her from slipping into the same sleep that had overtaken her before. She knew as Ealrin did that this was no time to lose the sense of your surroundings. He stood by her as he watched the general lunge at the two men, both of whom were wearing the same maroon color as the others. They met his attack with full force. And yet every time they struck at him, he was there to block them. He moved with a speed that Ealrin had never encountered before and could only barely watch without becoming dizzy. Every time the glowing blade struck at one of the others wielded by his two defenders it sparked as if had just been removed from a forger's fire.
And then one man yelled in pain. The general had a satisfied look on his face as his blade split the air across the chest of one of the men and sent him flying backwards. Enraged, the other made good at a chance to strike at his enemy, but a second swing of his sword nearly caught him across the chest as well. And it would have ended him had Holve not shoved him out of harm’s way and struck with his own spear. The general let out a cry of pain as the spear pierced his abdomen. Then his blade came crashing down at Holve, who had not yet recovered from the momentum of his attack. In one swift motion, the blade fell and a great purple flame engulfed the man.
He was gone.
And Holve lay on the ground, writhing in pain and clutching his stomach. The purple blade had indeed found its mark.
Holve was going to die.
***
EALRIN WAS AT HOLVE's side, inspecting the wound. It wasn't bleeding as a normal sword wound would. Instead, it was pulsing with a sickly purple hue. His skin around the cut was turning a crude red and purple mixture. It began seeping into the rest of his body like a poison.
When their leader had departed, the two Merc raiders left threw down their arms and fled. They had been pursued by a handful of the uniformed soldiers, but the rest remained. Two were at the side of the man who had already died from his own run in with the sword of the general. One of them was the man Holve had pushed aside. He was sobbing into the chest that no longer moved up and down with the rhythmic signs of life.