by Brian Beam
Menar’s face almost seemed to flash a sign of remorse as he whispered, “Because I have to. There is no other way.”
“You don’t have to do this,” I pleaded, finding it hard to speak through the pain from my arm and half-dozen slashes and stabs on my body. “Tell me the prophecy Raijom is so scared of, and I’ll make sure it never happens.” I considered how little substance that promise had. From what little I know of prophecy from Max, sometimes you can’t do a thing to stop it. Just another reason for me to hate the ideas of prophecy and fate.
Menar must have realized the uselessness of the promise as well and shook his head, causing the blood from his nose to splatter down on my face. “I wish I could believe that.”
Now, I’ve told you before that I don’t believe in fate. I don’t want to believe that everyone has a predetermined plan for their lives. But obviously, some force must have wanted me to live this night given that right as I saw Menar’s muscles tense to follow through with his killing strike, I heard the wet sounds of a galloping horse. Suddenly, there was Sal’ atop Telis, Telis’ rearing back on his hind legs. Menar only had a split-second to turn his head before Telis’ muscular front legs crashed into him, sending him sprawling to the ground at my side. Maybe the dragon egg had brought me some more luck.
“Utrien-blooded bastard,” Sal’ muttered after Telis had settled his hooves to the ground. Utrien—and I’m not joking about this—is the god of dung. Somehow, through the crippling pain in my arm, I found a way to smile.
Propping myself up on my left arm, I looked up to the horse before me. “Telis,” I whispered as warmth filled my body from seeing they bay stallion alive. Telis had three shallow, but clotted, gashes down his right side, but otherwise looked in better shape than I was. He was still saddled and my saddlebags hung on each side of him.
Sal’s robes were bunched up above her knees revealing the tight breeches underneath. Sal’ seemed surprised that I recognized the horse. I guess I had left him out of my explanation to her of what I had been through. Maybe I hadn’t wanted to feel the pain of what I thought was his death. My smile quickly evaporated. “Max?”
Sal’s icy blue eyes threatened to pour out tears and she simply shook her head and turned her gaze downwards. That’s when I saw Max’s unmoving form on the saddle before her.
I wanted to throw myself back to the ground and cry. I just wanted to give up. I wanted the pain in my heart to disappear. I wanted to scream to the heavens. I wanted to grab Loranis by his damn throat and demand answers for the lost life of my friend. Why create a life and then end it so unfairly? Why take away the person, or cat, that meant more to me than anything in the world? All he had done was try to save me. Max had always been there for me. Always. He had done so much to take care of me. I suddenly found that I didn’t care what he was hiding from me. Max was family. I loved him. He deserved better. He deserved life. He deserved that salmon I owed him. He deserved justice.
I achingly pushed myself up with my good arm, keeping an eye on Menar lying in an unmoving, crumpled heap only feet from me. I grabbed my sword from the ground with my left hand, holding my right forearm close to my body. I stepped over to Menar and kicked him in the ribs as roughly as I could over onto his back. He grunted in reply. I never thought I’d ever be disappointed that someone was alive before, but seeing him breathing sickened me.
Menar’s swords had flown out of his hands when he was trampled to the ground and were beyond his reach. The glowing sword illuminated the area brightly, casting an orange glow across Menar’s bloody body.
I slammed a foot down on his sternum, his leather armor probably the only thing protecting him from me breaking his ribs. I brought my sword around, pointing the tip at the hollow in his throat above the black stone that pulsed with gleaming white light as it gave off that deep bumblebee hum. My arm quivered with anger, prepared to bring Max the justice he deserved.
“Korin,” Sal’ called softly. I had to force my head to turn against the tightened muscles in my neck. “Don’t,” she appealed, her eyes still brimming with tears. “Don’t,” she repeated in only a whisper.
I closed my eyes tightly and slowly turned back to Menar who was letting out a pathetic moan. I kept my arm tensed, but hesitated to put the blade into his neck. As I shook with anger and sorrow, tears welled in my own eyes and trickled down my cheeks to join the sweat and raindrops. Would I be any better than this man if I took his life? Yes. Yes I would be better. Max had deserved to live. Menar deserved to die.
I drew back the sword slightly, ready to plunge it into his neck and end his evil life when his eyes slid open, the swollen one not more than a sliver. He stared up at me for a moment and then closed his eyes again as tears began to drip from them. Blood poured from his nose. Some of his hair had come out from where it had been tied and was plastered across his paled face. His breathing had slowed. He kept his eyes closed, knowing he was about to die.
“Open your eyes,” I screamed, wanting him to watch me take his life as he had taken Max’s.
“Korin,” I heard Sal’ call again, but I ignored her.
“Open them,” I snarled, slamming my foot back down on his chest.
Menar did open them. “I should have—” he sputtered before breaking into a coughing fit. After a moment, he sluggishly focused back on me. “I should have known this was a mistake,” he finished before coughing again.
“And you can pay for your mistake with your life,” I growled, not recognizing my own voice with so much hatred in it.
One side of Menar’s lips pulled up into a half-smile. “After I’m dead, then what?” he asked weakly. “Where will you go? You’ll never fulfill the prophecy now. You can’t—” Menar broke into another cough. Menar left what he was going to say at that, staring defiantly into my eyes with that partial smile still on his face.
I struggled to push the sword down, but my arm only shook without going forward. The man who killed Max was lying there smiling at me, waiting for the blade to end his life, and I couldn’t do it. Tears continued flowing from my eyes as I pulled the blade away. Menar’s smile disappeared and his head lolled to the side as if he were disappointed.
I took a couple steps backwards, unable to stop the tears from falling, unable to keep my body from trembling. You know why I was unable to bring myself to kill him?
Because I am no monster.
I limped over to Til’s limp body several yards away from where Sal’ gazed at me approvingly, yet sadly, from atop Telis. He was unconscious and his nose was as broken as Menar’s, but he was breathing. I let out a sigh of relief.
I sheathed my sword and went back to Telis, patting his neck with a weary smile. I looked up to Sal’. “Sal, I need some cloth. Maybe one of your blankets.”
Sal’ didn’t question my request and dropped her backpack from one shoulder so she could swing it to her front. She dug around for a moment and pulled out what seemed more like a washing towel as if she knew exactly what I wanted it for. I nodded in thanks, looking sadly at Max’s still body before her. His fur had been singed all over, most of it gone in patches that revealed pale white skin. His eyes were closed as if he were just sleeping. Choking back a sob, I took the towel and wiped Menar’s blood off my face. I turned to go back to Menar, but Sal’ quickly dismounted Telis and put a hand to my shoulder.
“Wait, Korin.” Before I could even turn to see what she wanted, I felt the familiar warmth of magic coursing through me and stumbled back a step as I felt my broken forearm bones knit together. I flashed Sal’ as gracious smile as I could manage through my grief and started back toward Menar who was still lying weak and dazed on the ground. Amazingly, all my physical pain was gone unlike the last time Sal’ had tried to heal me. Her healing did nothing for the emotional pain, though.
Menar’s eyes slid back open slowly as he rotated his neck to watch me as I crouched and started tying the towel around his injured arm. Menar broke into another round of violent coughing, blood bubbling from his
mouth this time. I shook my head wondering if staunching the blood flow on his arm would matter with his apparent internal injury from Telis’ attack. I looked back over my shoulder. “Sal’, I might need some help,” I called hoarsely.
I turned back to Menar who had turned his head to spit out a mouthful of blood before returning his gray eyes to my emerald ones. The half-smile returned to his face and this time, his usually emotionless eyes joined it. “Was I wrong about you?” he asked.
I had no idea what he was talking about, but replied, “I get that a lot,” casting a meaningful look over to Sal’ who had crouched beside me and was looking at me questioningly. “I think he may have some internal injuries. Can you heal them?”
“I can try,” she responded weakly, putting a hand into her wicker case.
I put a restraining hand against her before she could heal him and looked back down at the dying man. “You wouldn’t answer any of my questions even if your life was on the line would you?” I asked him.
Menar laughed with a gurgle of blood in the back of his throat. “Very perceptive of you,” he muttered, coughing yet again. “I may have been wrong all along, but I can’t be for sure.”
I still had no idea what he was talking about, but nodded. Even if I could have forced some answers from him about the prophecy, Raijom, or if he knew of my parents, I don’t think I would have asked anyway out of respect for Max’s sacrifice. I pulled my hand back from Sal’. Sal’ placed a hand on him for a moment with her eyes closed.
After a startled gasp from Menar, she brought her hand back from the case. She started to sway a little, putting a hand to the ground to keep from falling over. Given her weariness, she must have put a lot of energy into her fight with the two men and my healing.
Menar immediately started to sit up, but collapsed again with a hand to his chest. I guess he hadn’t been as lucky with her healing. I knew his internal injury was gone, but the pain of it remained just as mine had when she had tried healing me before. I couldn’t make myself feel sorry for his pain.
The wind seemed to pick up around us. Sal’ hugged her arms around herself as she shuddered. My body still felt warm from the exertion of my fight, but I had to suppress a shudder of my own.
I pulled my sword free, pointing it at Menar’s broken-nosed face. Sal’ had healed all of my wounds, so she was obviously capable of a full healing. She must have left Menar’s nose and arm alone for spite. Good for her.
“Just because I just saved your life does not mean I won’t change my mind if you try anything,” I rasped at him. I still felt like he deserved to die for what he had done to Max, but did not feel like I had the right to be the one to take his life.
Menar only stared at me blankly. “Whether or not I have a duty to perform, I have enough honor to not immediately kill you since you have spared me. You deserve at least a head start,” he explained emotionlessly, though I felt it was an attempt at wry humor.
I reached out and ripped the glowing black-stone necklace from his neck. “Well, we’ll see how well you and your eldrhims do without this,” I challenged, pushing myself to my feet with my sword still pointed at him.
Menar’s emotionless gaze turned to stark shock. “Eldrhims,” he whispered and turned his head away as if talking to himself. “Surely he wouldn’t—” He looked back up at me, his face now severe. “You lie.”
As if talking of the horrid creatures had been a summons, a chorus of inhuman shrieks sounded from the forest ahead of me. They were all uniquely different from the shrieks of the eldrhims I had already faced, yet surely could not have been made by any other type of creature. There were definitely more than three this time.
If Menar had looked shocked before, the whites visible all around his gray irises revealed that he was literally shaken now. “Raijom, how could you?” he asked to himself with a rueful shake of his head. Menar’s expression turned introspective for a moment and, as if he had an epiphany, he lifted his gaze to me, his eyes filled with resolve. Menar looked into my eyes differently than before—with reverence, maybe—in addition to the resolve that was now there. “You have to run.”
I didn’t take my eyes or sword off of Menar as I pointed towards Til’ with my other arm. “Sal’, go take care of Til’ if you can,” I told her, hoping she had the strength. Sal’ did not reply, but I heard her scuttle off towards where Til’s unconscious body lay.
I held a tight rein on my fear as I stared deeply into Menar’s eyes. I had learned a lot about sacrifice this night and accepted that I was going to have to make one of my own. “I can’t turn my back on you. My friends are going run away and I’m going to stay right here. The eldrhims can take both of us to Rizear’s domain.”
Menar violently shook his head. “No, you have to run. I couldn’t see before. I do now. You have to live. Raijom tricked me this whole time. Tricked everyone.”
“What are you talking about, Menar? What did he do?” I wanted to respect Max’s wishes of keeping certain things secret, but this could have been a life-or-death deal. I was getting extremely tired of life-or-death deals.
Menar scrambled backwards and grabbed the glowing sword before I could stop him. As I readied to attack, he flipped it around, the hilt towards me. “Take this and run, Ingran. It may help. Take it. My life is forfeit now anyway.”
Apparently he had just lost his mind. Either that or he was really bad with names. I hesitantly reached out and grasped a smooth ivory grip with a cross-guard and pommel that looked like intertwining ribbons of gold. The single-edged blade curved slightly, its magical glow masking any hint of the blade’s true color. Being used to my shortsword, the weight and balance of the longer weapon felt strange in my hand. I knew I could use it adeptly, though. Chasus had taught me how to use many different weapons and how to compensate for the differences in their weight, size, and type.
No eldrhims would be able to sneak up on me with the bright glow still emitting from the sword, illuminating a large area around us. Speaking of the eldrhims, the screeches were sounding much closer.
I looked suspiciously at Menar as I slowly pulled the sword away from his reach. “Why are you helping me?”
“I was wrong,” he muttered. “Loranis forgive me. My wife and daughter, I miss them so much. This has all been for nothing.”
“What were you wrong about?” I asked impatiently, but Menar seemed withdrawn into himself, muttering about being forgiven. “Menar,” I screamed.
His eyes snapped back to mine resolutely. He pushed himself up with his good arm as I held both swords towards him, ready to attack, but he only took off his baldric and threw it to the ground before me. “Take that sword and run. I’ll hold off the eldrhims.”
Hesitantly, I sheathed my shortsword and bent down to pick up the baldric. “Why should I trust you?” I asked warily. “Tell me, and quit speaking nonsense, ponytail.”
Menar looked at me intolerantly. “I could tell you everything, but what good would it do you dead? Run, you fool.” Apparently trusting that I wouldn’t attack him, Menar spun around and picked up his other sword with his left hand and sprinted off towards the sound of the eldrhims. He really had lost his mind. I stared confusedly at his back as he ran, wondering if I had lost mine as well.
Realizing that standing there was nothing more than a death sentence, I quickly sheathed the glowing sword into the baldric-mounted scabbard and threw the baldric over my left shoulder and head. The glow of the sword was snuffed, leaving the area comparatively dim from Sal’s ball of light. The baldric was way too loose on my smaller frame, but I’d fix it some other time when I wasn’t about to die. I shoved the glowing black stone into my coin purse with the dragon egg and Contract. I could stil hear the humming of the stone and feel it vibrating against my hip.
I sped over to Telis where Sal’ was standing shakily next to a newly healed Til’. “You okay?” I asked the little guy.
“Did you see that kick?” he questioned excitedly. “I never saw it coming. I felt like
a hero. Did you see, huh?”
I found it in myself to smile. “You did great, Til’. Hear those shrieks? Eldrhims are coming after us, and most likely more than the three that came after me last time. We have to get moving.”
“Ooh, eldrhims? I’ll fight them. They don’t stand a chance against us. We have Sal’ and Max…” He trailed off as Sal’ gripped his shoulder tightly and gestured up to Telis’ saddle. “Oh. Oh, no. I’m so sorry,” he apologized looking absolutely mortified. His lower lip began to tremble.
“It’s okay,” I assured him. “You didn’t know. Max saved me from these things before, though, and I’d hate that he did so in vain. Let’s go.”
I wrapped Max’s body in one of Sal’s blankets and set him into my shoulder bag which was still tied onto Telis’ saddle. I could almost hear my heart breaking as I did.
Telis, though no war horse by any means, carried the three of us with ease. Well, with as much ease as he could have given the wet, wooded, mountainous terrain. I’m sure his fear played a big part in his ability to maintain a gallop with all of our weight on him. Thankfully, Sal’s enchanted backpack weighed only as much as the backpack material itself according to Sal’. Sal’ fit into the saddle behind me and Til’ sat in front of the pommel, gripping Telis’ bitless bridle on either side for balance.
Sal’s light had winked out as she struggled to even stay awake as we charged away from the screeching eldrhims. I kept one hand on the reins and one at my back, pulling my newly acquired magic sword out of its scabbard just enough to see to steer Telis downslope through the trees.
It was going to be another long night.
Chapter 14
The Bullratopus
Being chased by the supposed minions of the god of death did wonders in taking my mind off of the death of my best friend.
I kept Telis at a full charge down the mountain, amazed that he was able to keep from falling and killing us all. At the same time, I did not dare slow him. Menar may have been a capable fighter, but from what I had heard out in the night, there had been at least a half dozen eldrhims on the prowl. There was no way Menar would be able to take on such an onslaught of eldrhims by himself. Fortunately, as we sped through the forest, I could only hear two distinct screeches nearing behind us as opposed to the half dozen or more that I had heard at first. Maybe I was wrong about Menar and he had held the majority of them back.