Jonas called on Shyann’s magic, and immediately felt the pleasant warmth of it rise up inside him. Bringing forth his light, he let it shine subtly, just enough to show without a doubt who they were, and to hopefully ease the tension reflected in the faces of the slavers. He carefully harnessed more magic, using it to enhance his voice. He had used this skill once before during the battle at the Lindsor Bridge, near Finarth, but it still felt a bit awkward using it. His voice, now loud and powerful, hit each man with force, causing them to step backwards and lower their weapons.
“Who is the leader here?” he asked, gazing at the group. His antlered helm covered his head but there was no hiding his dazzling blue eyes that burned with authority and power at the men congregated around him.
“What brings two cavaliers and a soldier of Finarth into my camp uninvited?” asked a blonde haired man to Jonas’s left. Korgan stood up from his fire, moving directly in front of Jonas as his men parted behind him. They still held their weapons in their hands but it was obvious that they were unsure if they would even use them, and Jonas’s light seemed to have calmed them, at least momentarily.
The man was obviously not as taken aback by Jonas’s power as were his men. Jonas, releasing the magic from his voice, withdrew the light, and looked down at the warrior. The man stood casually, his right hand confidently resting on his long sword.
“What you are doing is wrong, and we have come to ask that you free the slaves and the ogrillion,” Jonas announced smoothly as Tulari pivoted from side to side.
Korgan looked at the animal and was clearly impressed, but he stood his ground, returning his gaze to Jonas. “Young cavalier, surely you know that slavery is not illegal here. Besides, many of these prisoners are brigands and thieves and the magistrates of Gildren and Torgar have sentenced them to a lifetime of slavery,” he said firmly, indicating the slave carts to his right. “You have no jurisdiction in this matter, but if you like you may eat with us until you feel the need to depart.”
The man spoke well and his cleverness and calm demeanor somewhat flustered Jonas. He hesitated, looking at Taleen for support. She gave him a, this was your idea stare that did not go unnoticed by Korgan, his lips curling slightly into a triumphant smile.
“What of the ogrillion?” Jonas asked, returning his gaze to the slave leader.
“An evil beast being sold to the diamond mines at Stonestep. If I were to release it, the animal would attack us and I’d be forced to kill it.”
“I sense no evil in him, slave holder,” Taleen spoke for the first time.
Korgan raised his shoulders in mock uncertainty. “Cavalier to Bandris, I have never known an ogrillion to be anything but evil. But if you see it best to release it, then so be it, but I will not be responsible for what it does.”
Again the canny man had manipulated Taleen into a corner and she did not know how to respond. They were both silent for a moment until a young girl’s voice shattered the stillness.
“He is lying! We were taken from our homes and our children and elders were murdered!”
Jonas, jerking his head toward the noise, saw a beautiful young woman from inside one of the cages yelling through the bars. A slaver standing next to her punched her in the face and she fell back into the cage. The other slaves caught her and began frantically yelling at the cavaliers, corroborating her statements with similar stories of murder and capture.
Jonas’s eyes flared with anger as he turned to glare at the tall warrior who merely shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t have to hear that, but it matters not; slavery is not illegal here and it is against your godly ethics to kill us when we have done nothing wrong. So it is your call, Cavalier, how will this play out?”
“Nothing wrong? You think killing innocent people and masquerading your actions under the absence of law is nothing?” Jonas’s voice rose with anger, his eyes panning the group of men facing him.
Korgan had stepped back and away from Jonas, giving him more space. His men spread out and were nervously looking at the three mounted warriors and back to Korgan. Uncertain, they looked to Korgan for leadership, as they always had.
Jonas knew that they were afraid to take on two cavaliers. He did not miss their glances as they looked to Korgan to solve this predicament for them. Jonas also knew that Korgan probably did not want to fight them, but then again he did not know this man, nor did he know his capabilities. Jonas felt he had to act quickly before Korgan did something stupid, causing his men to react in violence.
Jonas made a quick decision. He would use his cognivant powers. He began focusing this magical energy around the man, gradually gathering it in a translucent shell. It took a few moments but he pushed the energy together, compressing it around the warrior, freezing him in place.
The tactic was not difficult for Jonas, but it did take a little time…time that he would not normally have in a fight. Luckily Korgan was not aware of Jonas’s use of magic and could not sense the energy coalescing around him, ready to press in on him at Jonas’s command. For all he knew Jonas was taking a few moments to weigh his options before he spoke. But as he felt himself constrained and compressed by this invisible force, his eyes widened in shock and fear.
The slavers watched their leader in disbelief. He struggled to move but failed miserably in his attempts. Jonas then easily lifted the man in the air. His men jumped back with fright. Jonas wanted them to see his power, to deter them from raising their blades. If things went well, perhaps they could part ways with no blood shed.
He spun the man in the air so he was parallel to the ground and then he slowly and gently laid the man down on his stomach, while simultaneously speaking to the crowd. Again he used Shyann’s power to amplify his words. Her magic made his voice dance around the clearing with tremendous power, and it seemed to drain the tension away from the men. They were listening intently, slowly lowering their weapons.
“None of you will be harmed, nor will your leader. We will free the slaves and the ogrillion and then be on our way. You will do nothing. If you follow us or the men and women we free, we will see it as a threat and be forced to fight, and that will be a fight that you will not walk away from. By the grace of Shyann and the strength of my blades, I will see it so. Am I understood?”
The men all nodded, slowly moving away from the three warriors and clearing a path to the slaves’ carts.
“Fil, tie this man’s hands and legs,” commanded Jonas. Fil dismounted, withdrawing a length of rope from his saddle bag. He proceeded to tie Korgan’s feet and hands. When Jonas saw that he was secured he released the energy surrounding the leader.
Korgan immediately began thrashing about, struggling to escape his constraints. He flipped over to his back, lifted his head, and glared at Jonas with undisguised malice.
“You are making a grave mistake, Cavalier. Many of these men have wives and children to feed. These slaves would bring them money to buy food for several months. Now they will go hungry and we will be forced to enslave more people. You have just prolonged the inevitable and doomed the lives of other innocents.”
“You may be right, slaver, but no matter how you try to justify it, no good can come from doing evil. Destroying the lives of these men and women,” Jonas said as he gestured toward the captive slaves, “to better your own lives will not make the world a better place. This is how evil starts. It grows and festers inside you until it is so colossal that you can no longer control it.” Jonas again used Shyann’s magic, bolstering his voice so all could hear. Many had sheathed their weapons and were gazing intently at the warrior, listening to his every word. “Slavery is wrong, and it lessens you to participate in it. If you continue on this path, you will be judged, in this life, or the next.”
Jonas then quickly pivoted Tulari around, away from the men, and rode over to the ogrillion who was now pushing his wounded body up on one knee. Taleen and Fil followed closely, continuing to scan the slavers, looking for any sign of t
rouble.
Hagar watched the human ride up to him, but his armor was so shiny that it momentarily blinded him as the last rays of sun reflected of its polished surface. Hagar slowly stood, facing the man on the horse. The animal was so big that it put the human at eye level with the ogrillion. Hagar was in obvious pain from the lacerations on his back, but more than the pain, he felt a fierce anger toward the men who had hurt him.
He growled as the human neared but the ogrillion did not attack. The human held no weapon and there was something about him that diminished his anger. Suddenly the warrior began to glow with a bright white light that pulsed outward from his body, gradually blanketing Hagar. The light stunned him and he was forced to shield his eyes, but it caused him no pain. In fact, it felt warm and rejuvenating. His anger vanished, replaced by a calm feeling of peace. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the light vanished.
“Taleen,” Jonas stated. “This ogrillion is not evil. In fact I sense an overwhelming goodness in him. Quite strange really.” Jonas seemed bewildered. Taleen rode up next to Jonas, and gazed at the ogrillion.
“That would be rare indeed, but I, too, sense no evil in him.” Taleen then pointed at herself and said, “Taleen.” Next she pointed at Jonas and said, “Jonas.” The ogrillion looked confused but it was obvious that the beast was trying to comprehend Taleen’s words. Taleen repeated their names and the ogrillion looked back and forth between them.
Fil ambled over to them, leading his horse by the reins and carrying a set of keys with his other hand. He was moving slowly so as not to startle the ogrillion. As he neared them Taleen pointed at him, stating his name loud and clear. Finally the ogrillion lifted his lips in a smile, if such an expression could be called a smile. His wide mouth was filled with teeth and the expression looked strange, almost evil, the vicious fangs suggesting a hunter who killed for warm flesh. The ogrillion banged his meaty hand against his chest, and in a deep guttural voice he growled, “Hagar!”
Jonas and Taleen replied simultaneously, “Nice to meet you, Hagar,” even though they knew the beast probably didn’t understand them.
Jonas dismounted, grabbed the keys from Fil, and began to slowly approach Hagar. He held the keys out in front of him, pointing at the beast’s manacled foot. Hagar seemed to understood his intent, and stepped his huge foot out so Jonas could free him. Jonas knelt slowly by the beast, intently aware of his own vulnerability. One kick from the powerful ogrillion could kill a man, armored or not, but Jonas felt sure that Hagar was of no danger to him, so he brought his gaze down to the lock, slowly working the key into the mechanism. There was an audible click and the manacle fell away leaving behind a sore and bleeding abrasion on the ogrillion’s ankle.
Jonas stepped away as Hagar squatted down, rubbing his sore ankle. He looked up, smiling at Jonas. But then his gaze swung to the slavers, his smiling expression becoming an icy glare. He stood up slowly, and looked as if he were about to charge them.
“No, Hagar! They are not to be harmed!” Jonas ordered. The beast didn’t understand his words, but his intent and tone were clear. He looked down at Jonas and seemed to calm down. Jonas smiled at him, and then turned, striding toward the carts with the keys in his hand. As he neared the cages he counted about fifteen young men and women, all dirty and ill-kempt, but otherwise strong and fit. They greeted him with smiles and praise.
“Thank you, sir!”
“Thank you, Cavalier!”
“You saved our lives!”
“Bless Shyann!”
As Jonas unlocked the doors on the carts, the people stepped from their prisons, crowding around him giving their thanks. They turned to Taleen and Fil, thanking them as well, their smiling faces animated with open joy and relief at their new freedom.
The beautiful young girl who had shouted at them earlier approached Hagar as Jonas was remounting Tulari. Hagar looked down at the petite girl as she boldly reached out and touched his thick hairy leg. Hagar moved back a little, unsure of the touch, but the girl did not move away. She reached out her hand toward the ogrillion again, touching his leg a second time. This time Hagar did not move away, and slowly squatted next to her. His massive body dwarfed the girl even while kneeling.
“Thank you, Hagar,” was all she said, gently stroking the side of his arm. Hagar smiled broadly, moving his huge hand toward her face. Jonas moved Tulari closer, unsure if it was wise for her to get that close. But the girl did not flinch and Hagar took one of his thick fingers and gently touched her cheek. The touch looked odd, for the same hand that could crush her head in an instant barely grazed her soft face. The girl smiled and Hagar smiled back saying, “Hagar” for a second time. Touching her chest with her hand she said, “Myrell”. Hagar, standing up to his full height, repeated her name, this time much louder.
Myrell turned from the smiling beast, and approached her rescuers. The three were all mounted and had been watching the exchange between her and Hagar with interest.
“Thank you very much for intervening. What I said was the truth. These men raided our villages and killed our elders and our children. We are not thieves and brigands as that scum would have you believe.”
The girl was young, maybe eighteen or nineteen winters, but she carried herself with the maturity of one much older. She was beautiful, with golden brown hair, which despite its current unkempt state, still shimmered in the sunlight. Her skin was smudged with grime and her clothes hung on her like rags, but her disheveled appearance did little to mask neither her figure nor her beauty.
“You are welcome, Myrell. I am glad that we happened by when we did,” replied Taleen.
“The sun is setting. When was the last time you have eaten?” asked Jonas. Myrell looked at Jonas, her dazzling eyes searching his features, and he couldn’t help but think how attractive she was. Despite what she had been through, she held herself with pride and dignity, and Jonas did not miss that strength in her stare. Her confidence and poise seemed odd for a young girl born in a mountain village.
“They fed us once a day. We are tired and hungry and I think I can speak for all of us.”
“Let us set up camp. I’m sure these men have enough food to feed you well. Let’s talk more over full stomachs and a hot fire,” Jonas replied warmly.
The slavers wanted no part of the present situation and departed quickly, gathering their meager belongings and riding the horses and carts into the forest. Before they left, Jonas confiscated some clothing, food, supplies, and even weapons for the freed slaves. They would need all the help they could get to move on with their lives. Jonas allowed the slavers to leave with enough to survive until they could get to the nearest settlement.
But he could not free the leader, Korgan, afraid that he would bring the slavers back and attack them in the middle of the night. So he kept him tied up, sitting up against a tree several paces from their warm camp fire. They roasted some of the venison that had been taken from the slavers, and accompanied it with some of their bread. It was hard and stale, but hearty, and it tasted good smeared with the venison fat and juices.
Hagar would not come near the fire but he sat on the ground near Korgan and watched the scene intently. Myrell approached him several times and gave him meat and bread, which he gratefully swallowed in a few big gulps.
After they had all eaten, one of the young men, a short stout villager, spoke first. He looked at the three of them and announced, “My name is Kilius, and I thank you all for saving our lives.” The young man had long brown hair and a short scraggly beard. In fact, all the men had facial hair since they had not had the luxury to shave for quite some time. Thick, long eyelashes framed his dark brown eyes, giving his face a slightly feminine look. But his thick and powerfully built body gave him a look of strength and maturity beyond his years.
“You are welcome, Kilius. My name is Jonas and I am a cavalier to Shyann. This is Taleen, cavalier to Bandris, and my friend Fil, soldier of Finarth.”
“We owe you our lives,” interjected Myrell as she
sat sipping from her tin cup. “We were lucky you were near us. If I may ask, what are you doing so far in the Tundrens away from civilization?”
“We are on a mission, Myrell, a mission from Shyann herself. It is very important and we must leave first thing in the morning. I’m sorry that we must depart so soon, but it is paramount that we make haste. What will you do now that you are free?” Jonas asked, wishing that he had more time to help them get to safety.
“I do not know,” answered Myrell softly, looking into the flames. The firelight reflected the glistening tears that appeared in her eyes, and the men and women around the fire suddenly became solemn. There was a long uncomfortable pause before Kilius broke the silence.
“Sir, the slavers destroyed our village and killed many people. Most of us do not know which, if any, of our family members survived the raid.”
Jonas did not miss the anger lacing his words, nor his glare toward Korgan and his emphasis on the word most.
“Kilius, do you know what happened to your family?” Taleen asked softly, obviously coming to the same conclusion as Jonas that maybe Kilius’s own family had not survived the raid.
Kilius looked at Myrell, dropping his head sadly. After a few moments he looked up at Taleen with glistening eyes. A lone tear dripped down his dirty face leaving a trail of clean pink flesh.
“Yes, I know. Our father,” he said, gesturing towards Myrell, “was the village leader, by blood and deed. Korgan killed him as he was trying to protect our mother. Then he raped her and slit her throat.” Kilius’s voice was shaking with emotion but he was able to hold back the wave of tears. But he was unable to hold back the look of hatred in his eyes as he glared at Korgan who was sitting at the edge of the firelight. Though visibly shaking with rage, Kilius turned his face to stone as he fought to restrain the urge to leap across the fire and kill the man that had brought him, and the others, so much pain.
The Cavalier Trilogy: Book 02 - The Rise of Malbeck Page 4