The Axe's Edge

by Summers, Derick J. M.

  Lan’thor and Raeth followed after them. Lan’thor stared in agonized sympathy at the scene surrounding him. As always, the Elf’s emotions were clearly reflected on his handsome face. Logan’s smile grew. That was one of the things that Logan had come to really like about Lan. The Elfin warrior could never hide anything. His reactions and emotions played across his face for the entire world to see. It was something that Logan knew his friend would eventually have to overcome if he were to become chief of the Elfin warrior clan like his father, Lean’thor. But, for now, that natural honesty was a very refreshing trait.

  Logan’s gaze shifted to Lan’thor’s right, where Raeth was moving to join him on the beach. The assassin moved like the ghost her name implied, seeming to glide over the edge of the boat and sand leaving surprisingly little indication of her passing, even on the wet sand of the beach. If Lan wore his emotions for all to see, then Raeth was a neutral mask showing none of hers. The assassin’s face was rarely in sight, and today was no exception. She kept herself wrapped in the black silks of her profession, typically only her eyes were exposed to the world and they rarely betrayed any hint of the emotions that lay behind them. Two pieces of black stone, they seemed level and calm at all times. The more Logan thought about it, the more he came to realize that black stone perfectly described the assassin. What initially appeared cold and hard actually concealed a depth and strength that was awe-inspiring. Added to that, Raeth ability to attain a nearly absolute stillness when she chose, a stillness that made her easily overlooked when she was stalking prey. Logan knew from personal experience that the assassin could disappear into shadows without a sound and then reappear at his side so smoothly that several minutes could pass before he realized that she was there.

  Raeth’s unnatural stillness next to Smash’s restless kinetic energy was almost comical, and it brought a grin to Logan’s face. Where Smash seemed to represent barely restrained power ready to explode into action at a moment’s notice, Raeth represented an economy of motion and a premeditation that bordered on scary. It wasn’t for the first time that Logan was glad he counted both the assassin and the mountain troll as his friends and silently prayed he never did anything to change that.

  For now, the assassin simply stood and watched. Logan was willing to bet that she watched Lan’thor almost as much as she did the freed slaves, albeit for different reasons. The Elfin warrior and the assassin had become quite close during the past year. Their relationship still made Logan shake his head in wonder. In so many ways, the two seemed to be complete opposites. Lan’thor tackled challenges in true warrior fashion, head-on. His emotions were as clear in his actions as a sword wielded in the brightness of day. Alternately, Raeth clung to the shadows, hunting her prey through stealth and subterfuge, a knife in the night. Opposites. Though in some ways that made a certain kind of sense to Logan. Maybe together they achieved a kind of balance, a harmony.

  Besides, he thought with a laugh. El and I don’t exactly match, either.

  Hey? El thought at him in mock outrage as she joined him on the beach, her hand lightly touching his shoulder.

  Smiling back, he softly shook his head and slid an arm around the Elf maiden’s waist. There was something about a simple touch, a reassurance, a safety that words, even mentally communicated words, could not convey.

  The companions watched in silence for several minutes as the former slaves explored the remains of Solan Bay. Tanel was crying softly when she returned to them. Smash gently touched her shoulder with a delicacy one wouldn’t expect from a creature of his build. Tanel subconsciously leaned into him. Logan found joy in that simple act, even in the despair that surrounded them.

  “Oh, Logan,” sobbed Tanel. “I know you warned me, but I had no idea.”

  Logan nodded his understanding.

  “Are you sure you want to keep going?” he asked sympathetically.

  Tanel had told him that she intended to go home, where the ordeal had really begun for them, where they had lost their parents. Logan had advised her against it, but she had insisted. She’d explained that she had to go, that she had to say goodbye to Mum and Da. Logan could understand that, he just wanted to protect her from the pain. She’d suffered so much of that already. So, if home, or what was left of it, was where she needed to go, then he’d be there with her.

  Logan could see the despair in her eyes.

  “I have to go,” she wept. “I just have to.”

  Logan pulled his sister into a hug.

  “I know, Tanel,” he whispered reassuringly. “I know.”

  Logan paused for a moment to watch the returned villagers poking and prodding through the remains of what had once been their homes and livelihoods. Gently taking Tanel’s hand, he led her through the ruins of Solan Bay to the road that led to what they had once called home. Their four companions fell into step behind them.

  The Past. Really? Again?

  A solemn procession, Logan and his friends marched in silence through the abysmal remains of Solan Bay. As they neared the forest’s edge and the road leading inland toward their childhood home, they were hailed from behind. With Logan’s heightened sense of hearing, he knew those approaching were the returning residents of Solan Bay, but he chose to ignore the call. There was too much history, too much pain. Yes, he had saved them from their fate, but that didn’t mean he could forgive them. Even as Tanel stiffened on his arm, he remembered. He remembered the pain people had brought him, remembered the hurt. He couldn’t bring himself to stop walking! Whatever they wanted from him, he didn’t want to hear it. With a slight tug on Tanel’s hand, he kept to his course, his coal black eyes fixed on the road before them as he let his ears track the pursuing crowd.

  The hail came again, louder and more pleading. Logan’s companions stopped, pausing in the dust of the road and looking back toward town. Releasing Tanel’s hand, Logan slowed but refused to turn. The embarrassment, shame and torment he had felt at the hands of these people had, unfortunately, returned with his memories of this place. They may have shared his early years, but the villagers had done their best to make them hellish. They, too, had been through Hades and back in the last year, but Logan wasn’t prepared to wipe the state clean. Before the slavers came, they had done their best to break him, to break his body and his spirit, and he sure as Hades wasn’t going to give them the opportunity to try it again. Right now, preparing to return to the desolation of his childhood home and the funeral pyres of his parents, the bullies of the past were the last thing he wanted to deal with.

  “Logan,” Tanel’s voice was soft as she called to him.

  Halting, Logan turned to face his sister. He met her gaze, and knew she saw the pain in his eyes. Her own eyes hardened at their shared memories and she nodded her reassurance to him before turning to face the crowd of survivors moving purposefully towards them, placing herself directly in their path to Logan.

  Leading the group of survivors was a blonde woman with shoulder length hair and a face set in determination. She was focused on Logan and her eyes never left him as she came to a halt before Tanel. It took a moment, but recognition finally dawned on Logan. The woman was Seli Tanith.

  Logan scowled to himself as memories of anger and pain flooded through him. The woman had caused him so much grief and trouble as a child. She and a number of the other village children had always taken great delight in tormenting and teasing him about the way he looked, about the fact that he was different. The village boys never missed a chance to make their abuse physical, but in many ways, the pain Seli Tanith had caused was much, much worse. As an adolescent, Logan had found her beautiful. And with hormones raging, he had developed quite a crush on her. She had known that, seen it in his manner and she had used those feelings against him, playing him for a fool. The physical blows had healed quickly enough, but the emotional wounds she had inflicted went so much deeper.

  That was years ago, he told himself. A lifetime ago, it doesn’t mean anything anymore.

  Stopping, h
e shook his head in an attempt to clear the memory from his mind. He turned and waited for Seli to speak.

  This should be interesting, he thought and his right brow rose slightly in curiosity.

  You’re not that same boy anymore, El said reassuringly in his mind as she stepped up beside Tanel, adding to the physical barrier between the determined blonde and Logan.

  “Something up, Seli?” asked Tanel icily.

  “Oh. Tanel,” Seli started, seeming to notice the woman for the first time, a frown creasing her brow and playing across her lips as she remembered her own history with Logan’s older sister. “I wanted to speak with Logan.”

  “Go ahead,” stated El, equally icily, her arms folded across her chest as she looked down at the human woman.

  “Oh,” Seli said again in surprise as she looked back and forth at Tanel and El realizing that neither woman was going to let her get any closer to Logan, a physical representation of their protectiveness to Logan.

  Logan stood stock-still, his head raised slightly to meet Seli’s gaze as she made eye contact over Tanel’s shoulder and waited for her to continue. The blonde woman before him seemed to waiver. She seemed to find the intensity of his gaze overwhelming and couldn’t hold it for long, dropping her eyes to the ground and shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot while the crowd of survivors milled about behind her. She paused as though gathering her her thoughts, trying to figure out what exactly she wanted to say. Finally, she stilled herself, but she still couldn’t look Logan in the eyes.

  “Logan,” she finally stammered. “During the trip… During the trip home some of the others told me about what you did and what you went through to free us… to… to save us.”

  She paused for several moments, unsure how to continue. Logan waited in silence, uncertain himself about what would follow.

  “I…” she finally continued, her gaze completely dropping to the ground. “I just wanted to thank you.”

  Logan was stunned as Seli continued.

  “To thank you for coming for us,” she paused again, her hands motioning around her. “And, for seeing that our families were given a proper send off.”

  She managed to meet his gaze this time and Logan could see the tears making small lines down her cheeks. Despite his hardness, despite his resolve, Logan found himself moved.

  “You’re welcome, Seli,” he said softly, then louder. “You’re all welcome.”

  Seli Tanith nodded in thanks before disappearing back into the crowd as it moved forward to embrace Logan, El and Tanel moving discretely out of the way to allow them to pass. Many others thanked him through their tears, reaching out to pat his shoulder or clasp his arm. Logan weathered the attention as best he could. He was taken aback by the emotions showering him. All he could do was nod dumbly in return.

  Not as bad as expected, El’s voice said softly in his head.

  Laying The Ghosts To Rest

  Little was said during the walk to the former Hammersmith homestead, everyone seemingly lost in his or her own thoughts. The outpouring of thanks as they’d left Solan Bay had caught Logan off guard and thrown off his emotional balance, which hadn’t exactly been balanced before that. Now the familiar road home made him feel like a child again. He couldn’t help the flashes of memory that rose to meet him, reminding him of some of the hardest moments of his childhood. Seeing Seli Tanith again, then to have her thank him, cracked a wall that Logan hadn’t realized he’d created in his mind. Now memories, like water, managed to seep through. His first urge was to rebuild the wall, seal himself off from that pain, but El’dreathia was there in his mind with him.

  She reached for him and explained that it would be healthier for him if he learned to deal with that pain, learned to face it. And if he couldn’t remove it completely, at least he could come to terms with it so it wouldn’t haunt him for the rest of his life. With her guidance and reassurance he relived the memories, accepted all those terrible things that had happened to him, and finally began the process of making peace with them. El stood by him, reminding him over and over again that those early experiences were what made him the person he was now. To use his own blacksmithing metaphor, she added with a smile, they had tempered the blade he had become.

  Alright, alright, he thought back in mock exasperation. I’ll deal with them. Just, please, I’m begging you, no more clichés.

  Silence was all that greeted his attempt at humour.

  Interestingly, Logan found the walk went much faster than he’d expected. Apparently, being lost in your own headspace made you lose track of time, and before he realized it they were rounding the last bend toward home. With a start, Logan realized he was straining to hear the clang of his father’s hammer as he worked the forge.

  Idiot, he thought fiercely. Your Da is long dead.

  His hand drifted absently to the large hammer that hung heavily at his side. It was his father’s hammer, and Hagar had used it to bring cold metal to life. All Logan had really done with it was bring death. Not really the legacy he wanted for a tool that his father had used to create some beautiful works of art, but true all the same. None had been able to stand before him as he wielded it and many, too many to count, had died under its crushing weight. He couldn’t help wonder if the tool had been forever tarnished.

  Can a thing that’s brought death to so many ever be used to create something good again, he wondered?

  “I know you can,” El whispered aloud beside him, and he looked at her with a start.

  “I was thinking about the hammer,” he corrected and El just smiled back at him. Logan couldn’t help rolling his eyes at her.

  “Damn. You can be so frustrating sometimes,” he thought to her.

  Her smile grew.

  The companions spread out to inspect Logan and Tanel’s former home. The desolation they had witnessed in Solan Bay was mirrored, though on a smaller scale, at the Hammersmith homestead. The funeral pyre in the yard had burned down to ash, much like the buildings around it. After more than two years, all that was left of home and forge were brown spots where nothing would grow and the worn and weathered brick that surrounded the well, or so it seemed at first glance.

  As Logan wandered around, picking through the ash, he realized he’d been wrong. Something had survived. One thing had lasted through the fire and the ensuing wrath of nature - his father’s anvil. After the fire had destroyed the roof, the exposed clay of the forge itself had moistened with the seasonal rains and the whole structure had collapsed into a mound of mud and dirt, but in the midst of it all, lying at an odd angle and partially buried in the sun baked mud was the iron heart of the forge.

  Moving slowly, as if afraid it was all a mirage, Logan made his way toward it. In his mind, he could once again hear the ringing of forge hammer on anvil as his father hammered a heat-softened piece of metal into shape. Plough shares, axe heads, horseshoes, nails, it didn’t matter, the process always began the same. His mind’s eye could see himself manning the bellows that fed air into the great beast. He could almost feel the heat of the forge against his skin, almost feel the long line of sweat rolling down his spine as he worked. Logan stared at the iron mass that lay before him. It truly was the heart of the forge. Brushing off mud and dirt to reveal more of its surface, Logan could see that the ravages of nature and fire had barely touched its iron skin. A smile crossed his lips.

  As long as the beast still has a heart, he thought. Then there could still be life.

  Crouching low before the anvil, Logan wrapped his long arms around its corners and heaved, his muscles flexing under the strain. The earth was reluctant to give up its prize and for a moment, Logan thought the anvil would be denied to him. He wondered if it was too deeply buried in mud and clay, or if he himself was simply too weak. Logan’s brain wouldn’t accept that. This was his birthright and he would take it. He reached deep within himself. A great roar flowed from his throat as his steel cords of muscle fought against the grip of gravity and mother nature’s desperate hold on
the anvil. Finally, he tore the anvil free from the earth and held it aloft. His bellowing roar rang across the homestead and the surrounding woods, disturbing birds from their trees as it echoed through the air and finally faded on the wind.

  He took a few steps away from the mud that had held the anvil before lowering it gently to the ground. Staring down at the mass of metal, he felt more of his memories flooding back to him. These did not bring pain. Rather, they were the thoughts and dreams he’d had as a child. These were his aspirations that came bubbling to the surface. He saw himself as a small boy helping his father at the forge, searching for herbs with his mother, practising arms and learning geography. Amidst these happy thoughts came dreams of carrying on in his father’s footsteps, of working the forge and having his own family.

  The bubble of thoughts, joyous though they were, buffeted and threatened to overwhelm. He needed to get away from them, needed to get some perspective on the turmoil of emotions that ravaged him this day. He needed to clear his head.

  Searching out with his mind, he quickly found El. She wasn’t far away. She was with Tanel as they investigated the ruins of the main house, offering what support she could while still trying to keep a mental eye on him. Logan smiled at the image in his mind. His companions seemed to understand that he needed some space and were kind enough to give it to him. He doubted they knew how much he appreciated that.

  El, I’m just going to take a walk, he thought to the Elfin mage. He could feel her concern.

  No worries. I just need to refocus, he thought reassuringly to her and he was thankful that she didn’t press the issue.