by Joe Jackson
When morning came, the men were still a bit fatigued, but they readied the horses and left the women to prepare food and cover their tracks. Everyone worked in quiet tandem, but Leighandra could see Audrei missed her cooking partner. She sighed wistfully, and Leighandra smiled when their eyes met.
“Missing Alissiri, are you?” she prompted.
“I am. You know what my people think of coincidence. God brings people into our lives for a reason, and I find myself wishing I’d had more time to get to know her. I can’t help but wonder if we’ll cross paths with her again, somehow, sometime.”
“That would be interesting. I would’ve liked…”
Leighandra trailed off as a sense of foreboding fell over the camp. Leighandra couldn’t put her finger on it, but she had the feeling they were being watched from afar. She prayed it wasn’t the Crimson Queen or one of her minions watching them, or that the dead might crawl free of the ground and attack, even under the light of day. She whipped her gaze toward Max, but though he seemed perturbed, he wasn’t staring to the west.
Once they had eaten and mounted up, Leighandra felt better, as though they were safer in moving than in sitting still anywhere. “Max?” she prompted, riding up beside him. “Have you felt anything out of the west today? Any hint that something might be watching, or coming?”
He shook his head. “The sense of power from the west has been largely absent since the last incident in Solaris. Why?”
“Because she feels like she’s being watched,” Starlenia answered, favoring one side while she rode. Delkantar was riding beside her, using his mount to make sure Starlenia’s horse didn’t wander the wrong way while she used incorrect posture. “It’s like the forest has eyes, and they’re not the friendly kind Yiilu talks about.”
“They most certainly are not,” the druidess agreed. “I am listening to the voices among the trees, but they give no indication anything is afoot.”
“Now that you mention it, my tail has been bushed up all morning,” Audrei said, pulling it around her in the saddle. True to her words, the normally bushy member was so puffed up it was comical. “It’s like a chill a good cloak – or those rings – won’t dispel.”
Lion looked at the ring on his finger and offered it back to Audrei, but the priestess waved off his kind gesture.
“Just be on your guard, everyone,” Galadon ordered, and he had Galrinthor trot out to the front as they rode.
Just as Delkantar had said, Tribuchy was once a trading post for trappers and loggers that had, over the many long centuries, matured into a proper town. It wasn’t quite a city, but it had a fairly large population that saw a good deal of traffic headed one way or another between the northern cities of Dira Ch’Tori and Emerald City and, of course, Solaris, the central hub. It was the sort of place where Leighandra imagined something powerful might be able to live in an urban area without being too conspicuous.
Unless it’s a dragon or such, she mused again with a sigh. Now, every time they had to go and find one of the seals, that was going to be the first thing that crossed her mind. The first and the fourth had been in the possession of dragons. How fortunate that the second and third had been in the possession of people – and amiable types, no less. It was a lot to hope that the final two would prove the same, but Leighandra liked to cling to her hopes these days.
She glanced over at Lion, considering the circumstances of finding the second seal. They were supposed to be in the possession of powerful entities, but even in light of having received it from a wizard, something there didn’t quite fit. Was the seal passed down through generations of shakna-rir wizards, or perhaps the royal line itself? Was the empire considered mighty to the extent that they were entrusted to guard a jade seal? That might account for the last sixteen hundred years, but what about before then?
Perhaps we’re better off not knowing for now, she thought, and let the matter pass. It would be a good question to put to Karinda – or Lion himself – at some point.
Tribuchy was only several days from Emerald City by horse, and the companions didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, only other travelers and merchants making their way between the towns. The feeling of unease followed them for the entire journey, though. No one had any solid explanation, but the consensus was that something big was building, perhaps in the west, or perhaps with the Tempis’ra in the south, such that the entire land was starting to feel spooky.
Galadon held a hand up, signaling everyone to slow down and come to a halt. Ahead of them on the path were eight riders, facing the companions as though waiting for them. Most of them were armored and armed to the teeth, having the look of mercenaries about them, but for two. Of those, one was clearly a wizard of some kind, the shakna-rir male’s clothes of the simple traveling variety, his hand clutching a short, gnarled staff, and his saddle laden more with books, wands, and other studious paraphernalia than weapons.
In the forefront sat an armored figure who was impressive to behold at first glance, astride a charger that nearly rivaled Galrinthor. Her breastplate had been fashioned to look like an eagle diving to the attack with its wings spread. Her helm had a similar spread-wing design, and when she dismounted, her belts showed a scimitar at each hip. She wasn’t quite as tall as Max or Galadon, but with that armor, she certainly cut an impressive figure.
“That’s far enough,” she said, the tone of her voice making it clear it was a command. If she was confronting them, Leighandra thought it rather foolish of her to dismount and approach even the few steps she had. When she took off her helmet, she revealed the green skin, rich ruby eyes, and long, straight brown hair of a shakna-rir woman in perhaps her thirties. She turned back to the man with the books and traveling clothes. “Good work, Bryan.”
“Scryer,” Starlenia hissed. “Well, that explains the feelings we were being watched.”
“We have no business with you. Stand aside,” Galadon commanded.
“I think not. Don’t make the mistake of creating an inter-kingdom incident out of this. That young man is wanted by the crown, and I am here to arrest him and take him back. If you value your good health, you’ll allow me to execute my duties as First Huntress.”
“Can we have a few minutes to think about it?” Starlenia asked.
The shakna-rir woman sighed. “You may, but make it quick, human.”
“Okay, done. The answer’s no. Piss off.”
Delkantar snorted, but Max sighed. “Can we tone down the hostility for just a moment?” the luranar king asked, urging his horse forward a few steps, but he kept a more than respectful distance. He didn’t miss the mercenaries reaching for their bows. “Who are you, madam?”
“Dame Taeranna Sakiveldi, the Desert Eagle, First Huntress of the Crown, Knight-General of the Order of the Western Star,” she introduced herself. She saluted Max by touching her right fist across to her left breast and bowing stiffly.
Max dismounted in a fluid sweep and then bowed his head politely to her. “King Auremax Talvorus of the Talvorus luranar,” he said, taking the woman by surprise. “I am afraid this young man has sworn an oath of servitude as my squire, and so if you want to arrest him, you will first have to go through me.”
“I have no quarrel with your people, sir, but I have a duty to perform. I should hate to injure the monarch of a neighboring country over an internal matter.”
“I will leave you no choice.”
Taeranna stared at Max with an unblinking gaze. “So be it, then. If you die, let it be known it is on your head.”
“Stop this!” Lion shouted. “You have a duty to the rightful queen, and I am her brother.”
“You are nothing, young man,” the Desert Eagle returned. “My duty is to the throne, not the one who sits upon it. Any claim your sister had died with your mother, and with your flight.”
“You are an idiot,” Starlenia spat.
“Watch your tone, little woman, or your luranar companion won’t be the only one I send home a cripple,” Taeranna retu
rned, moving to her saddle to take off a few extra knives and belt pouches for what was to come. “Don’t act so surprised, Lion. It was your forefather who wrote the law this way, that the empire’s interests would always be preserved above any one family or its name. Between you and me, the Tumureldi family was the greatest imperial line our people have ever seen. But it’s dead, or soon to be. Don’t hold it against me for upholding the law your family created.”
“What are your terms of battle?” Max asked, ignoring her insult.
“I don’t do first blood, luranar. You draw a sword against me, I’m going to hurt you, and badly. When you beg me for mercy, I will grant quarter. But don’t wait too long to ask.”
“If you are victorious, you may take Lion as your captive. However, should I best you, you will return home empty-handed, and trouble him no longer.”
Taeranna laughed. “Whatever you wish. Shall we get this over with, then?”
“Kick his hairy arse, General!” shouted one of her mercenaries.
Lion leaned forward on his horse. “Sir, be extremely careful! Taeranna is one of the deadliest warriors in the empire.”
“Fight bravely, husband,” Audrei said, drawing the Desert Eagle’s attention.
“I know of no other method,” he returned, putting his hand to Audrei’s knee before he slipped on his fanged wolf helm, drew the Sword of the North Wind, and stepped forward.
Taeranna drew out her twin scimitars, and Max opted to pull the shield from his back. The two saluted each other again, and then began to circle at a respectful distance. That lasted only a couple of seconds before Taeranna spun in. She battered Max’s shield, and the luranar kept it firmly in front of him, unaware that she had turned her blades so their notches would hook the shield’s edge. She spun again, ripping the shield from Max’s arm such that he staggered, and she threw the heater away to the side of the road.
The mercenaries laughed as Taeranna strode nonchalantly around in another circle. Max touched his forearm briefly, but then put both hands on the pommel of his sword. Instead of circling, now he set his feet and turned side to side, keeping her at a particular angle, wary of being overwhelmed from both sides by her dual blades. When she danced in again, Max seemed to move on instinct, and he drove the woman’s attacks aside, letting her waste energy without ever threatening a meaningful hit.
Taeranna paused and dashed sideways, then took up a stance and considered Max. Leighandra could see the slight change in the woman’s breathing. Her routines were quick, but she couldn’t keep them up for long. Now, she stared at Max with a measured gaze, and the chronicler expected the fight would begin in earnest. Rather than dance and spin, Taeranna stalked at Max with cold intent evident in her gaze.
Max used the length of his blade to keep her at bay, but just like with Taeranna’s flashy style, he could only keep it up for so long before he would tire. Leighandra had seen her luranar friend fight before, but she wondered why she’d never been impressed with him those previous times. He had a simple but concise style, all business with little flash or pomp, the technique of a man who treated combat like a necessary evil, and not something he wanted to engage in. But it was something he had been trained well for, and that showed through easily. In her mind’s eye, the chronicler saw him decapitate the undead yeti and hack into the nose of the dragon before cutting its head off, too, with savage fury.
This young man is not someone to be trifled with, certainly not with that sword…
Leighandra looked across at the mercenaries and saw they were shocked that the fight had lasted this long. With how quickly Taeranna had stripped Max of his shield, even the chronicler wasn’t sure he was going to last. But once the first hostilities had taken place, he’d settled in, and now he fended her off with the practice and patience that said he was going to be a terrific king to his people – and a fantastic leader of the nations, once he could rally them.
They traded a couple of routines, Max frustrating the shakna-rir woman with his reach and defensive expertise. Both were becoming fatigued, but Taeranna seemed the more desperate to bring their duel to a close. Max accepted a slice along the side of his breastplate where Galadon had hammered out the dents and punctures from the dragon’s claws. The scimitar wasn’t heavy enough to penetrate his armor on an indirect hit, and he used the opportunity to hit the woman’s other weapon with his own. The ice-like blade of the Sword of the North Wind shattered the scimitar, and Taeranna stumbled out of the way of any follow-up.
The Desert Eagle reached to the back of her belt, but patted the base of her tail, realizing she had shed her extra weapons when she didn’t take this fight seriously. She flipped her scimitar into her other hand and twirled it a couple of times, but Leighandra could see the doubt in her gaze now. She hadn’t expected much from the young luranar king, and she was learning a humiliating lesson. To his credit, Max didn’t taunt her. If anything, he looked emotionless – and Leighandra knew that was when he was at his most dangerous.
Taeranna quick-stepped in on him and tried to get within the useless inner range of his sword, but Max drove her weapon aside preemptively and turned to throw his shoulder into the woman’s chest. Taeranna lost her footing completely and landed on her rump, and by the time she got her wits about her to bring her sword up again, Max had his own to her throat. The Desert Eagle cast her remaining scimitar aside and held her hands up.
“Get on your knees,” Max commanded. Leighandra was intrigued that his tone was much softer than the words suggested. “And remove your helm.”
Taeranna rose to a knee submissively, and took her helmet off, holding it under one arm. Her eyes widened when she felt the keen edge of Max’s sword touch the back of her neck. “What are you doing?”
“You never arranged or asked for quarter,” Max said.
“You said I could return empty-handed to my queen…”
“And so you shall… under a shroud.”
Audrei straightened up in her saddle. “Max?”
“At least allow me a warrior’s death,” Taeranna requested.
“You mocked me, promised – in front of my wife! – to send me home a cripple, and threatened to kill my friend,” Max growled. “I am returning the same honor you bestowed upon me. Tilt your head down, for when I cut it off, I do not want to see your face.”
“General?” one of the mercenaries prompted.
Leighandra put her hand to her saber when the mercenaries reached for their weapons. Max, what are you doing? Tell me this is a test of some kind, she thought. She looked over at Audrei, who was silent now. Did she know Max was only testing the woman? He had to be, didn’t he?
“Stand down,” Taeranna commanded. “That’s an order, Captain.”
“Yes, stand down, or you’ll be joining her,” Galadon called across, and Delkantar laid his bow across his lap at the knight’s words.
Max put both hands on the pommel of his sword again. “For what it is worth, you were a fine adversary. But I cannot allow you to harass my friend, and I will not let you harry us for the rest of our journey. An example must be made.”
Taeranna nodded and tilted her head down, hiding her face from him as requested. The luranar paladin sighed quietly and shook his head. He brought his foot up and pushed the woman face-down into the dirt suddenly, and then slapped her at the base of the tail so hard with the flat of his blade that it left a considerable dent in her armor. Taeranna screamed out in pain, and Max took his foot off of her and went to collect his shield from the side of the road.
“Son of a bitch!” the Desert Eagle yelled.
“Oh, you don’t want to call him that,” Starlenia hooted. “Now he’s liable to kill you!”
Max slung the shield over his back, and after snorting in the direction of the mercenaries, he returned to Taeranna’s side. “Glad to see that hurts you as much as it does my people,” he said as she writhed on the ground, gripping the dented armor and the possibly-dislocated tail beneath it. “Lion, do your people invoke life-
debts?”
“If they are demanded of us, sir,” the young man returned.
“You now owe me the honor of your life, then,” Max told the Desert Eagle. “When – or if – you can get back in your saddle, you will accompany us to the town of Tribuchy, where you will remain until I have decided on a use for you.”
She barely managed to nod, still wracked with pain. Max approached his companions and stood beside his wife. “My husband,” Audrei said, leaning down to kiss his armored snout.
Leighandra shook her head. “I have to say, when she took your shield, I thought you were in trouble.”
“Did you forget he just killed a dragon not a week past?” Yiilu asked.
Max looked back over his shoulder. “She is arrogant,” he offered. “And only grew more so when she thought she had me at a disadvantage. My father would have beaten her rump far more severely than that.”
Audrei rubbed her backside reflexively, and Leighandra laughed.
“Well fought, my friend,” Galadon said with a nod, and Delkantar bobbed his head in agreement.
Starlenia smirked. “You’re just full of surprises. Can’t wait to see what you can do when that sword starts sprouting flame for you.”
Max looked at the hilt of his sword. “Hmph.”
“They look to be considering treachery,” Yiilu said with a gesture toward the other group. “We should not let down our guard.”
“I thought you really were going to kill her, with the way you talked about protecting me,” Lion said. “I’m glad I was wrong, sir, but at the same time, I thank you.”
Max looked up at his squire. “I would not leave her husband a widower and her children without a mother without a much stronger reason than being arrogant and doing her duty.”