The Sun King and the Sorceress (The Legend of Graymyrh Book 3)

by E. V. Greig

  “Are you alright, little maid?” Bandhir wiped the gore from his blade and sheathed it as he ran to Kaiwan’s side. “Did they harm you?”

  She sobbed and shook her head. “No. But Efrym – how can this be? You were dead!”

  Bandhir sighed and whistled for Seranor. “Ah, well you see, little maid, not everyone who dies stays dead. A rare number of people have the ability to return. I am one of them. Please – do not be frightened. I am not a monster, I promise you.” He freed her ankles first and rubbed them to help the blood flow. “You may have cramp,” he warned her. “Now then: sit up and I shall free your hands too.”

  “Thank you, Efrym.” Kaiwan shuddered and leant against him for comfort.

  He pulled her close: reaching his arms behind her to untie her hands, and resting his chin upon her shoulder whilst he did so. “There now, I will protect you, sorceress.” He chafed her small hands in his. “Poor little maid! You are bruised from the wrist to the elbow! These will be painful by tomorrow, I am afraid.”

  Seranor ambled into view and whinnied at them. Kaiwan smiled through her tears. “She is back!”

  “Of course she is, little maid. Seranor always comes back. She is very loyal.”

  “I let you down, Efrym. I failed to sense those men! And I failed to stop them too. I am sorry.” She hung her head: ashamed.

  “Hush now, little maid: do not blame yourself for this! I was surprised too, and I do not have the excuse of inexperience. So let us not feel guilty now, or else I must be most dreadfully embarrassed indeed.” Bandhir smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “Now then: come! It is time that we continued upon our journey. But first, let us search these rogues and see what they have.”

  “We should try to find their camp too, Efrym. They were slave-traders: there may be other prisoners in need of rescue there.”

  “Always thinking of others, sorceress. You are a shield maiden, as my people would have called it!”

  “What is a shield maiden?”

  “A shield maiden is a warrior woman who defends helpless people during times of war. They are very dedicated to their role, and very brave.”

  She blushed. “Ah, but I am not a warrior!”

  “You could become one, if you so chose. Would you like to learn how to fight, Kaiwan?”

  He has never called me by my name before! “I – yes, I would, thank you, Efrym.”

  “Very well then: you shall be both a sorceress and a shield maiden! A most powerful combination, if I may say so.” He smiled roguishly at her. “I must see about getting you a blade of your own first however and a shield too, of course.”

  “Might I have armour too please, Efrym?”

  “But of course! I take it that it will not affect your sylth?”

  “No, for sylth is not troubled by armour and weapons.”

  “Excellent! Then we shall begin your training as soon as you are fully healed.”

  Chapter Two

  “I ain’t going to abandon Slo’annathorys!” Banor glared at Ruiryk.

  “But he and Lonrari were planning to sacrifice Kaiwan!”

  The old varyn spat. “Aye, so what? She ain’t like us, Ruiryk: she was born to fulfil her destiny and that’s all! She’s the Ca’Ryln: the Shield of Ryln. A shield to stand against the Sword of Barysk. If that means dying, well then so be it. Keep yer nose out and find another lass to sniff after. What, d’ye suppose I’m blind? I saw the way tha’ used to watch her!”

  “I – Banor, listen...!”

  “No, tha’ listen! That anth raised tha’ as if tha’ were his own kin: he sat up three days and nights straight with tha’ when tha’ had the fever. He coddled tha’ after we found tha’ abandoned. And now tha’ want to abandon him? He was wrong about ye, lad. Tha’s not worth dog’s piss!”

  “Hey now,” Hugo interrupted them. “Ease up on him, Banor.”

  “I don’t take orders from tha', blacksmith!” Banor hefted his battle-axe.

  “Then go. No one’s stopping you. But don’t expect Ruiryk to go with you: he’s made his choice. We’re going to find some other way to defeat the Vor’Barysk.”

  “And what makes tha’ think that tha’ can do that?”

  “Because there’s always another way, Banor. There’s no such thing as manifest destiny!”

  “And what about loyalty? Is there such a thing as loyalty? What about Slo’annathorys?”

  Hugo groaned. “Fine! How far is it to this damned wyrm’s lair anyhow?”

  ∞∞∞

  Bandhir stepped up behind Kaiwan and carefully put his right hand over her own on the hilt of the dagger. “See? Like this – now, step forward with your left foot! Good!” He rested his left hand on her hip. “And swing forwards with the blade: put all of your strength behind the thrust! Forwards and up!” He steadied her as she lost her balance. “Careful now – remember to let your left leg carry you forward into the attack whilst your right leg follows and keeps you from falling into your opponent.”

  The three slaves that they had freed sat at a distance: watching them practice. Nala grumbled. “Why don’t they just admit it and lie with each other? It’s clear that they are in love!”

  Saylii giggled into her hands at the ulnyr’s words. “They can’t see it, mare!”

  “Huh. Humans!” Nala swished her tail. “How does their species keep on existing?”

  The veth’kyr shrugged. “Don’t know, mare. Still, these two seem alright!”

  The third slave grunted. “They told us we could go. Why are we still here?”

  “You go if you want to, Drithik. I pay my debts.” The ulnyr turned her attention back to Bandhir and Kaiwan.

  Drithik looked up at Saylii hopefully. The veth’kyr giggled again and shook her head at him. “I’m happy here, veldaan!”

  “Pah! You’re both stupid!” Drithik folded his arms and kicked at a rock. It bounced further than he had intended, and struck Seranor on her flank. The mare squealed and pranced angrily. “Oops!”

  “Is there a reason you are kicking rocks at my horse, veldaan?” Bandhir glared at the tiny man.

  “It was an accident! The horse moved!” The veldaan squeaked in terror and hid behind Saylii.

  “Perhaps you will be more careful in future.”

  “Of course, sir: of course I will!”

  ∞∞∞

  “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” Hugo stared at the tunnel of webs that lay before them. “Are you certain that we have to go through there, Ruiryk?”

  The youth nodded. “It’s the only way through these cliffs.”

  “I’m not certain that I can take Waneve through those webs. Whatever made them will likely see him as food!”

  Ruiryk snorted. “Whatever made those webs is the least of our worries! See those trees? That’s the edge of the Forest of Haph: the Dryanthir homeland. They are renowned for attacking travellers!” He wandered off to speak with Banor then.

  “I hate this world.” Hugo kicked at a pebble.

  The healer, Alyrra, smiled shyly at him. “Did you really come here from another world, General Khuff?”

  “Yes: the Vor’Barysk destroyed it. Any more nosy questions?”

  “Why didn’t you stay and fight him?”

  Hugo blinked. “I – I wanted to! I wasn’t given any say.” He felt a strange need to explain his apparent cowardice to her. “Had I been given any say in it, then yes I would have stayed behind!”

  “But then you couldn’t have saved us. So I think I must be very selfish, for I am glad that you came here to Graymyrh.” Alyrra toyed with a strand of her long red hair. “We all are: all of those that you saved from the tribute cart.”

  He looked away from her and stared at the giant webs once more. Well now. This is awkward.

  Except that it wasn’t awkward at all. Alyrra was no sheltered innocent: she had belonged to six men before the brute that Hugo had taken her from. They had all used her, some had apparently been worse to her than others. She had told him her
life’s story, more or less, over the past few weeks. He had the feeling that she was happy to be allowed to talk as she chose to. He also suspected that she liked him at least as much as he was beginning to like her.

  Alyrra edged closer to the mercenary. “General Khuff – I was wondering if – ow!”

  “Waneve!” Hugo scolded the horse and pushed its head away. “Sorry about that. Did he bite you very hard, Alyrra?”

  “No, sir: ‘twas only a nip. I don’t think that he likes me.” She laughed nervously.

  “I don’t think he likes anyone,” Hugo told her.

  “Not even you, sir?”

  “Especially not me – he kicked me yesterday. Almost broke my leg!”

  She laughed again. “Oh! I wondered how you came by that awful bruise.”

  “Aye, you healed it well. So – what were you wondering about?”

  The healer looked askance at him. “I wanted to ask you if perhaps I might share your bedroll tonight.”

  Hugo’s stomach flipped over and his heart began to race. He had to swallow hard to loosen his tongue before replying. “I – would not refuse.”

  “Well then. I suppose I’ll see you later.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss him and then hurried back to her place within the makeshift baggage train.

  He stared after her. “Alright then: so that just happened.”

  ∞∞∞

  Kaiwan approached Bandhir as he tended to Seranor’s hooves. “Efrym – may I talk to you please?”

  He smiled at her: he found smiling to be less of an effort around the little maid than he had around anyone else in his long life. “Of course you may!”

  “I have been thinking...!” She shrieked as arrows peppered the ground around them. Her hand flew up: already weaving a mystical shield to protect them.

  Bandhir drew his falchion and pulled Kaiwan close to his side. “Keep your head down, sorceress!”

  Her spell blocked the rest of the arrows completely, but the damage had been done. Brave Seranor was bleeding from at least a dozen places, and Nala was clutching at the wicked shaft that protruded from her right arm. “These are sylvanthi arrows!” The ulnyr grimaced and pulled the barbed head loose. “Ullen save us all!”

  Drithik pointed. “Up there – on that ridge! It is a unit of Sylvangarders!” The veldaan cursed and scuttled to take cover behind some rocks. “Slave-takers and reavers, the entire race of them!”

  “What are they doing this far south?” Kaiwan wondered.

  Saylii whimpered. “We’re doomed, doomed we are! Vethnorn have mercy on us all!”

  Bandhir had heard enough. “It is time to deal with these troublesome sylvanthir! Sorceress: can you sustain more than one spell at a time?”

  “The shield will hold by itself now,” she replied. “What do you need me to do, Efrym?”

  “What is the most damaging spell that you can cast at our enemies, sorceress? Think what it is, and then use it upon them! Let them see why it is that they should not attack innocent travellers!” He pointed his falchion towards the ridge. “Strike them down now where they stand!”

  Kaiwan closed her eyes and reached out to the surrounding mountains. The ground began to shake and a massive dust cloud arose around the ridge. The sylvanthir screamed as the earth shaped itself into a giant hand beneath their very feet. The mountain clenched its fist about the unfortunate raiders: trapping them in its grasp, before hurling them away into the farthest distance. Kaiwan swayed, exhausted.

  Bandhir scooped her up into his arms as the shield faded and she fainted completely. “Rest now, sorceress!” He crooned as he laid her gently upon the ground. He glanced at their companions. “Are there likely to be any more of them?”

  Nala shook her head. “It’s impossible to know for sure. I have never known the sylvanthir to come to this region before. More than likely, they were alone. There’s no cause for an army to come through here after all.”

  Saylii crept forward and began to dab at Nala’s wound. “We need to find the horses a healer.”

  “Seranor will be fine,” Bandhir replied. “What of you, ulnyr?”

  “I’ll live, human.”

  Drithik yelped as he spied the arrows beginning to fall away from Seranor. “Is that another spell?”

  “As I said, Seranor will be fine. Let us strike camp: I do not feel that we should risk staying here any longer than is necessary.”

  ∞∞∞

  Their journey through the cliffs had been uneventful so far. No dryanthir and no giant arachnids either. Hugo was glad of that. Waneve and the other horses were still on edge, however, so he made certain to post extra guards when they made camp that evening.

  There were thirty of them now: himself, Ruiryk and Banor, plus the erstwhile prisoners from the tribute cart. The cart had been on the road for several weeks apparently, and the prisoners hailed from numerous backgrounds. Alyrra and her former master had been the only other two captured along with Hugo, Ruiryk and Banor.

  Alyrra – she had begun to play upon his thoughts more and more that day. He supposed it to be due to her upfront approach to her proposition. It had been unexpected, although very welcome, Hugo realised. In truth he was looking forward to their tryst. He hurried his supper and took his place on the first watch: wanting to keep the rest of the night free.

  “Do you suppose we’ll make it through these cliffs alive then, boss?” His fellow sentry grinned nervously. “Willum Norys, by the way. My friends call me Squeaky.”

  “We should be fine, provided that we keep our wits about us and our weapons ready.”

  “Hard to do either of those when you’re whoring,” Squeaky observed.

  Hugo spluttered. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  “Alyrra. I heard her talking to you earlier, boss. She means no harm, but she’s been a whore all her life. It’s all she knows. You’d be taking advantage, boss.”

  “I – I hadn’t thought about it like that, Squeaky. Thanks for the nudge.”

  The Anyosian grinned again. “No bother, boss.”

  ∞∞∞

  Kaiwan opened her eyes to find herself cradled in Bandhir’s lap. “Efrym...?”

  “How are you feeling, sorceress? We have moved our camp to be on the safe side.”

  “What about Seranor, and Nala? They were hurt!” She tried to sit up but was still too weak.

  “Nala’s injury is merely a flesh wound. And Seranor is fine.”

  She stared at him. “But how? I saw the arrows: she was badly wounded!”

  Bandhir sighed. “Seranor is not as other horses. She is complicated, little maid. Please – do not ask me to explain it any further than that.”

  “She is like you are,” Kaiwan realised aloud. “Alright, Efrym: I will not ask any more questions.”

  “That is good.” He ruffled her hair almost playfully and eased out from beneath her shoulders. “You need to rest still, little maid. I shall let you alone to get some sleep.”

  The Ullensian glared at him. “I am not a child, Efrym!”

  Bandhir crouched next to her and caught her chin in his hands. “Oh? Do you want me to make you into a woman then, Kaiwan?” His voice was suddenly low and dangerous sounding.

  Kaiwan trembled. “I am not sure yet,” she admitted.

  “Then I should leave you to sleep. Pleasant dreams, sorceress.” He stood and exited the tent.

  “Ullen help me!” Kaiwan sighed and curled up under the blankets. “I should not even think about such things! He is a married man!”

  ∞∞∞

  Alyrra would not look at Hugo the following day. She seated herself next to Ruiryk instead and chattered merrily to the younger man whilst they breakfasted.

  Hugo sat down beside Squeaky and nodded to him. “I told her no. She wasn’t best pleased.”

  “You did the right thing, boss. Boiled egg?”

  “Please. Where did you get eggs?”

  “Pigeon’s nest, boss. You want toast with that?”

  “Er, y
es please. Have we butter?”

  “Course we have, boss!” Squeaky busied himself preparing the food. “Always have butter, that’s what my wife used to say, bless her.”

  “What happened?” Hugo asked, digging into his egg.

  “Ihldhyr.”

  “Oh.”

  “She was a priestess of Javia; hunted the restless dead for a living.” Squeaky sniffed. “Went out one night to hunt them and came back the next day as one of them. So I killed her.”

  Hugo picked an imaginary bit of shell out of his teeth to avoid answering.

  “I miss her.” Squeaky sighed. “She was a damn fine woman! Made the most incredible garlic soup!”

  “Good soup’s important.”

  “She left me her recipe book. She was educated, you see. A merchant’s daughter from Kebe. We met on the road: I was running with bandits at the time. Never will know what she saw in me. Anyway, she always said if anything happened to her, that I should take good care of her book.” He patted the leather bound tome at his side.

  “Squeaky, no offence, but I don’t think that’s a recipe book.”

  “Why’s that, boss?” The hook nosed man frowned from beneath his sandy hair.

  “Because the title on the front of it reads: ‘The Teachings of Javia.’ I reckon that it must be a holy book of some kind.”

  “Huh. Well what should I do with it then?”

  “Maybe you could donate it to a temple for her faith?”

  “Javians don’t have temples, boss. They’re a proscribed cult.”

  “Why?”

  “The king doesn’t like them because they hunt the ihldhyr. And the Church of Anyo doesn’t like them because they’re better at hunting ihldhyr than they are.”