“Yes, each kheshlar must go to a blacksmith to be fitted. This chain mail would be loose on any other kheshlar who may try it. We choose our own colors and style that we wish. It is something we do on our hundredth name day.”
“What about your weapon? Your hammer, did you get that from the blacksmith as well?”
“No…this was made by my sister,” she felt at the thick gold hued steel. “It is enchanted, though I’m not sure how. She gave it to me before she fell to the shadow. I keep it with me as a memory of her. A memory of how she once was.”
“Are we to continue traveling at night, or shall we head out now?”
“Let’s get a few hours of traveling before midday since we are now behind. It is only a few more days to the villages of the north, and a day beyond that to your village, if Karceoles wasn’t mistaken.”
She nudged Erenuyh, who awoke with a start before slowly getting to his feet. He looked at the two of them and sighed, still weakened by his fever, before securing a few things into his pack.
* * *
The next few days, they pushed themselves harder since they were getting close. They knew they could take rest in the human villages once they reached them, and so they took little rest during the day. According to Andron’s memory, they would have to pass through only three villages before coming to Guerettos at the edge of the sea. It was a bay that the village rested on, with more villages nearby. Larger cities headed northwest along the bay until reaching the ocean.
When nightfall approached on the eleventh day, all three were growing weary from traveling and decided to take a short break before continuing. The hills were a day gone, and they were to travel on flat terrain for the remainder of their trip. For some unknown reason, the flat ground seemed to take more energy from them than the hilly slopes they had come from. Andron supposed it was because without any changes the mind became drowsy faster. He led the group now, for his knowledge of the area was beyond Starlyn’s, as she only knew which direction to travel, and he knew the land.
The sunset to the west was beautiful to say the least with pink and purple hues glowing across the horizon. Andron stared at it for a long moment as he smoked his pipe next to Starlyn. Erenuyh sat a few paces away, lost in his own thought. The ranger didn’t seem to socialize and appeared as an outsider. Andron had tried to start a conversation with him several times, but each time the responses were but one word, and so he eventually gave up.
“How is your hand?” he asked, trying to spark a conversation with the ranger once more.
“Fine.”
“Does it still hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Mine does as well. I’m beginning to grow accustomed to being without my pinky.”
Erenuyh sat silent, staring at the sunset without as much as a glance toward Andron.
“Can you still use your bow well?”
“Yes.”
Andron sighed and began puffing at his pipe once more. The night was silent besides the few chirpings of crickets and hoots of owls. When the stars came out, he noticed Starlyn immediately staring upon them. She truly loved the stars, and he could tell when each night she spent most of her free time gazing upon them.
“I suppose we’d better get—”
Andron closed his mouth and listened with his ears. There was a sound like cracking fingers from the darkness. It didn’t come from either Starlyn or Erenuyh. He stood and fingered his sword, grasping the hilt and looking around.
“What is it?” Starlyn asked.
“I don’t know, but I heard something.”
Erenuyh stood to look about and grabbed his bow with his two fingers of his left hand. His eyes snapped from one patch of darkness to another as if hearing something. Andron knew his hearing wasn’t as toned as a kheshlar, but he could hear something out there.
Suddenly, he was tackled and fell to the ground, rolling several feet. He kicked at whatever it was, seeming to knock it off. Getting to his feet, he looked around but saw nothing. Unsheathing his sword, he ran back to where Starlyn and Erenuyh were fighting unseen foes. Andron blinked in surprise and tried to focus hard, but he still could see nothing. Suddenly, a warp in the air came toward him that appeared as if he was looking through bent glass or crystal. He shoved his sword upward and felt a force slash against it. His eyes widened with horror as he could hear the foe but could not see it.
No matter how hard he tried to study the warped crystal shape, he could still barely see it. He flinched with every blow that came upon him. There were only a few strikes that he was able to land true. Erenuyh dove backward and glanced at Andron, firing three quick arrows his way. Each arrow embedded into an invisible foe: one at a span from the ground, another midway, and the last a span higher than Andron’s head. The creature appeared tall, and besides the warped darkness that could not be seen of its body, Andron now had three markers that moved with each strike it made. He was able to defend himself with better effort, though the creature still landed several attacks upon Andron’s chest and stomach.
As Andron fought, he noticed there were only two of the creatures. There was one attacking Starlyn and the other in front of him. Erenuyh shot arrows at the two, making the two targets easier to spot, but still no complete shape was distinguished. Starlyn was fending hers off well with her large blunt hammer causing good damage, making the creature fall pack several paces with each true aim. Andron’s sword didn’t have the same power as a blunt weapon, and without knowing where fatal spots were to slash he was fighting blind.
An arrow pierced the front of the creature before Andron, and it shrieked out in pain. A loud humming growl came from in front of him, and Andron found himself flung back a dozen paces with what felt like a steel bar against his face. Blood trickled from his mouth as he crawled back toward Starlyn and Erenuyh without his weapon. He had no idea where his sword flew off to, but he couldn’t leave the two of them there without his help.
When he finally got to his feet, he saw Erenuyh without bow in his hands, and instead his long dagger defending as many strikes as he could. Andron fished for his throwing knives in his sash, but was too late as he saw Erenuyh’s head ripped from his neck and thrown into the darkness. The creature went for Starlyn next as he found his pack of throwing knives. He threw one after another with only two striking the creature. The strikes were true wherever they hit because the crystal creature came to a stop only a span from Starlyn and tumbled to the ground at her feet. She gasped as she saw it and leaped back as she delivered another strong slam to the invisible foe in front of her.
Andron ran to the invisible body and studied it careful to see where his knives hit. Even as it was still without movement it was as clear as crystal, but defined traits could now be seen. It was a large creature but humanoid in appearance except three times the size. The head was enormous with large clear eyes shaped like horizontal diamonds that didn’t blink. One was pierced with an arrow that Andron assumed was what made the creature angry with Erenuyh. It seemed to have a large pointed beard that was a slightly darker crystal than the rest, but besides that it was still mostly unseen. One of the throwing knives appeared to be in the arm of the creature as far as he could tell, but the other was below the beard in what he assumed was the neck.
He pulled one of the knives from the creature and spun to watch as Starlyn backed up in defense. Her hammer was large enough to protect her from most attacks, but the creature still seemed to be overwhelming her.
“Starlyn, duck!” Andron cried.
She didn’t question him but listened right away. He studied the pattern of the arrows on the invisible foe and with all his might he threw the knife. It hit true, and the creature shrieked one last breath before tumbling to the ground in a thud. Starlyn gasped and rolled backward before coming to her feet and looking at Andron.
He noticed that her left arm hung limp, and she clutched at it with her right hand. Her hammer was secure back in her belt, but she seemed hurt with gritted teeth as she came toward
him. He reached out to her, and she whimpered slightly when he touched her arm.
“Are you all right?”
“I think it’s dislocated.”
“I can help it, if you trust me.”
“I do.”
“This might hurt.”
She clenched her jaw. “Go for it.”
He grabbed her arm and snapped it back into socket with a loud pop. She screamed out in pain, and tears came to her eyes. He removed the plate armor at her shoulder and began to massage it gently. She wiped tears from her face with her right hand.
“Thank you.”
“What were those?” Andron asked.
“There is a legend in the kheshlarn records. I think they’re called Caestlycs.”
“Caestlycs?”
“Yes, it means the unseen.”
“Poor Erenuyh…he saved our life with those arrows. Without them, we wouldn’t have seen them well enough to kill.”
“Yes…I am saddened that we didn’t get a chance to get to know him more.”
“He wouldn’t let us.”
“I think he may have foreseen his doom when he came with us,” Starlyn said.
“Perhaps so; I fear that whatever is happening goes deeper than Searon knows. If there are wolves joining with draeyks, as well as these Caestlycs.”
“Yes…I believe the wizard more and more now. Something is going on, and unless we unite the nations of human, and the kheshlars alike…it may be the end of us all.”
“What are we still doing here then? Let’s be off,” Andron said.
“First, let’s give proper respect to Erenuyh.”
Andron nodded, and the two of them gently set Erenuyh’s body and head to lay in peace with bow in hand. Starlyn then fished through her sash and pulled out a few seeds, which she planted in the ground next to his body.
“Let new life come from this saddening death,” she said.
Starlyn and Andron sat for a long moment in silence. After a few minutes, Andron pulled his pipe and filled it full of pipe weed. With a few puffs, he noticed Starlyn reaching her hand out.
“Would you like some? It may help with the pain.”
“I do not have any herbs to heal my cuts and scrapes, so if this helps, yes I will have a little.”
Andron passed the pipe over and watched her with amusement as she coughed from the smoke. It was likely that she had never even smoked pipe tobacco. He chuckled lightly and began walking.
“Hold onto that, Starlyn, and follow me. Let’s make haste to the villages.”
Chapter 21
A loud crash in the middle of the night woke Searon, whose eyes jolted open. He moved his head on the pillow and shrank it back when his face sank into a large puddle of drool. Licking his lips, he sat up on his bed and heard another crash followed by a scream. His eyes grew wider, and he yawned loudly before getting to his feet. He looked around for his claymore before discovering that it was still attached at his side. His head shook tiredly, and he banged on the door in his room that connected to room seventeen.
When there was no response, he opened it to see Karceoles stumbling to get his brown robe back on. He seemed to struggle, but he didn’t look like he had been asleep yet.
“Did you hear that, Karceoles?”
“Yes, yes. I will meet you outside, and we’ll investigate.”
Searon nodded and was about to turn back in his room when he noticed the bed to his left with two women hiding under a white sheet. One was blonde and the other brunette, and both looked scared as they looked around each time a loud noise came from downstairs. He blinked his eyes a few times as he looked at them until he finally recognized the two. They were the dancers, Berethana and Annettera, naked under near-see-through white cotton sheets, cuddled together. Searon shook his head and slammed the door behind him.
Searon waited in the hall for a few minutes before Karceoles appeared with staff in hand and a grim look on his face as another crash of metal was heard. Searon sprinted toward the stairs, holding his head intact from the throbbing of drinking.
At the bottom of the stairs toward the exit of the pub there were three warriors behind an overturned table, looking outside. All had swords drawn and fear on their shaking faces. Searon and Karceoles ran up next to them, and they nearly jumped from their socks.
“What seems to be the problem?” Searon asked.
“Another raid!”
Searon sighed, “Conflict between the villages.”
“No…there hasn’t been any of that in years, not since the creatures came. It is they who raid our villages now.”
“Draeyks,” Karceoles spat.
“I’ve never heard of those, no, these are called daerions, and they are evil and strong. Too strong.”
“Daerions?” Karceoles gasped. He stood and looked to Searon. “Come, we must stop them, but be cautious, these aren’t mere draeyks you fight anymore.”
Searon’s eyebrows rose as he followed, but first he called back, “Do not cower in fear, help us, and fight!”
Searon stepped outside and unsheathed his crimson-glowing claymore. In the streets, half the warriors ran in fear as the others fought on. Most that fought fell down either injured or dead from such a formidable foe. Searon caught a glimpse of them in the faint starlight. The creatures were shorter than the draeyks, at only five feet, but were much broader and muscular. Their skin was rough, leathery, and dark blue in color. Each held a short sword or mace and slashed at anything that came close to them with more weaponry skill than any of the draeyks. They wore tight, ripped black breeches but no shirts or shoes. Their feet had four toes with long midnight-blue claws.
Rushing forward, Searon slashed his claymore forward to be blocked by a short sword. He looked into the large cold, unblinking oval eyes of the creature in front of him. They were pitch black in color and stared back at him in wonder. Its face was hard and cruel with two large horns extruding from the top of its head down to its jaw. They were black in color and similar to those of a ram except harder and thinner. It had a pointed jaw and large snarling black teeth at least two centimeters in length.
He fought the creature fiercely but barely gained any ground as each swift strike he tried was easily blocked by the quickness of the beast. Changing his fighting style didn’t seem to help much as the creature was well skilled in each form. Instead of attacking with strength, he decided to take a step back and move into a defensive position. The creature seemed to snarl, showing a tall mouth of sharp teeth before it leaped toward him.
Searon nearly fell back as the creature hacked at him from the left to right with a mix of overhead slashes and uppercuts of its short sword. He felt like the creature was trained by him with its skill. It was unsettling to say the least. As he backed up, he tripped over a dead warrior’s body and fell to the ground. The creature leaped at the chance and began furiously slashing down at him with attacks he was barely able to defend against. Many scrapes and bruises began forming on his arms through his chain mail when he wasn’t quick enough to bring his long claymore to defend against a swift short sword.
When it seemed all hope was lost, a warrior leaped toward the daerion, seemingly from nowhere. The warrior was clad in purple glinting scale mail and twice as wide as Searon. He fought the creature back with powerful blows that seemed to flash with each strike of his mace. Searon slowly got to his feet and went to meet the new warrior. He wore no helm but had a great big, bushy black beard upon his ebony face. His attacks were quick and reckless, which was surprising for such a large man. Searon was surprised to see the creature holding a strong defense against the power of the mace with only a short sword.
Searon ran to his side, and the two of them fought side by side against the creature that seemed to be cowering away. Their weapons flashed in the torchlight in a brilliant array of twists and turns. After only a few more strikes each, the warrior next to him bashed the creature’s hand, nearly tearing it from its limb. A sudden horror crept upon the creature’s face as
Searon stepped up to slice its head from its shoulders. He watched as it bounced harmlessly down the street, before turning to the man next to him.
“Hallo there! Glad to accept your assistance, outsider, yet you may need more training with weapon before fighting these formidable foes. Do be careful.” He stopped and took a harder look at Searon.
“Searon?”
Searon’s eyes lit up. “Yes…”
He took a step closer to inspect the younger man that seemed to be only a few years short of himself. His hair was thick but short and deep black in color; he had gray eyes, a rounded nose, and wide jaw. He was much larger than Searon with a rounded belly, though he didn’t seem overweight but big boned and obviously strong. A faint scar traveled from his left eye to his jaw a medium-brown color on his ebony face. There weren’t many ebony-skinned people in the smaller villages, though Searon’s old hometown of Legain had a well segregated mix.
“Xython?” Searon gasped.
“Aye,” he nodded and smiled, showing his profoundly white teeth. “When you left me, you were the master and I the trainer. It seems these days your teaching has granted me more skill than you!”
The Crimson Claymore Page 16