The Crimson Claymore

by Craig A. Price Jr.

  “I see,” Andron muttered, glancing away from the mage.

  “Met a wizard, have you? Would it by chance be Karceoles?”

  Andron quickly turned back to face the mage with flickering eyes. “Yes…you know him?”

  Sh’on’s face lit in a sly grin. “A distant cousin. I would very much enjoy seeing him again. It’s been many an age since I’ve seen that sarcastic fool.”

  “Ah, I see you have met him.”

  “What about the others?”

  “Warlocks are either wizards or mages who have turned to the dark magic. They are really powerful whether they were a wizard or merely a mage. The dark magic is powerful, but it comes at a price. There have not been mentions of a warlock for a very long time, yet these times are starting to darken. I very much hope it stays that way.”

  “Sorceresses and witches?”

  “Both are women that can wield magic. Sorceresses are powerful and often use a scepter whether they are born with magic or must learn it. Women are complicated creatures.” He looked over at Starlyn with a grin. “They always feel like they must be in control, which is why they use a scepter. Witches study the dark magic as well, yet in this way they are different than warlocks. Not all witches are dark themselves, like warlocks. Women can control their minds better, and some witches only study the dark magic without letting it control them. Still, they are dangerous because many choose not to use a scepter for control.”

  Andron studied the mage for a long moment. His green eyes were the most unsettling about the mage. Blond, almost yellow, hair hung straight down past his shoulders onto a green robe, the same hue of his eyes. His eyes seemed to glow with a fiery light to match that of the green smokeless fire on the ground in front of him. He seemed direct unlike the wizard who only divulged what seemed like riddles. Sh’on seemed more in control of his emotions and had patience. Karceoles seemed to be an old impatient man who always fought for irrational decisions and swift strikes. It was hard to believe that Karceoles was the more powerful one with how serene Sh’on appeared to be.

  “So tell me,” Sh’on said, breaking Andron from his thoughts, “what has my fool cousin been up to?”

  “Karceoles is with a captain named Searon. He is helping us gather warriors for a march against the draeyks.”

  “Ah, so he is hoping to start a war, is he?” he asked, shifting his glance toward Starlyn.

  Her head shook in annoyance, “The old fool is trying to.”

  “Have his manners got to you, Starlyn? Do not pay him any attention. He has always been crude toward women. I do believe one of his parents dropped him on his head decades ago,” Sh’on chuckled, his yellow hair bouncing on his shoulders as he laughed.

  Andron chuckled as he thought back to his memories of the wizard. He did seem like he was the most hardheaded person in the entire land. His warm humor dissolved as he stared back around at the village. The destruction was overwhelming, and he was done with foolish questions. He looked back up to the mage with a grim expression on his face.

  “What happened here?”

  Rubble scattered the roads, making it nearly impossible to walk a straight path. Wagons were burned and charred. Skeletons scattered the ruins without a single one being spared. Andron’s teeth clenched along with his fists as he surveyed the carnage along with Sh’on.

  “I came because of a vision I saw of this place…I was too late. The draeyks have destroyed it. I have found a few of these creatures hiding inside this village. I could smell them, but rest assured, I have sought them out and destroyed them. That’s when I stumbled upon you two…or you two stumbled upon me.”

  “You were too late? So everybody is dead.” Andron’s shoulders sank as he turned away from the mage.

  Reality began to sink into his mind. His wife and children…had they perished in the attack like everyone else? A single tear swelled in each eye and slowly trickled down his face. He glanced at the dirt below his feet, and with anger built up inside of him he kicked it with enough strength to cause a large dust cloud to float around him. Hiding his anger and weakness, he quickly swelled his chest with pride. He was a warrior; he could not show weakness. Weakness on a battlefield was certain death. If that was what the creator wanted for his life, then so be it. He would become like Searon, hard and strong, seeking only one thing: revenge. Sh’on met his eyes, swirling pools of emerald blazing like fire, they made Andron’s hard focused eyes loosen slightly.

  “Not so fast on judgment, Andron. With my magic, I sent a message to this village to another magic user. I sent warning of this attack. By the looks of this village and the three south, it seems warning had reached in time. A stand was made here instead of each village that was destroyed. There was resistance, but from the looks of it, it was only a distraction. It seems this village was set in defense to allow more time for the people to escape. A city lies to the north, I believe, and I believe that we will find survivors there.”

  “There is still hope,” Andron whispered, looking toward the ground. He lifted his face up and looked directly into Sh’on’s fierce burning eyes. “Let’s be off then and make for Wesiet.”

  He tried to hide his fear of losing his family deep inside of himself. It was hard because it made his heart throb with each beat. He also tried to hide his hope of them still being alive. Instead, he tried to numb his feelings. No matter what the outcome, he would be prepared, but was that going to be enough? He felt at the painting hidden securely beneath his armor. It brought warmth to his soul as he felt it and remembered the picture of his family.

  Sh’on put his hand on his shoulder as he studied him. “I understand you are eager, friend. Yet it is late, and I know you have traveled all day to reach here. I am weary as well and could use some rest. Let us sleep this night, and when dawn arrives we shall leave for the city. It will not be long.”

  “Of course…you are right. We are in need of rest. I am ahead of myself. In the morning then.”

  Sh’on nodded and leaned back into the stump behind him. Within minutes, he seemed to snore, but his eyes were still open. The haunting fiery-green glow was lessened, making his eyes almost a normal green. Starlyn shivered as she shifted over to Andron by the stone.

  “Do not fret, Andron, this man can be trusted.”

  “Then why are you afraid of him?”

  Starlyn turned to look at him, surprise in her eyes. “The things I have seen him do. He is powerful. Whether he be an ally or not, I fear anybody with more power than I understand.”

  “I do as well. Get some rest, Starlyn. I will take first watch. There are too many thoughts in my head for sleep right now anyway. I will wake you halfway through the night.”

  She nodded but scooted closer to him and rested her head upon his shoulder. He put his arm around her for comfort. She shivered every few seconds, and he removed his cloak to cover her. A smile touched her lips before she slipped into a dreamy state.

  He looked up at the stars, glittering in patterns and shapes far above him, and pondered. It would not be long now until he found out if his family was still alive. What would he do, what would he say when he found out? He sat there for most of the night pondering his reaction and thinking of what to expect.

  Chapter 25

  After three more days of traveling, they passed by two more villages before coming to a towering city. As they approached, they slowed down to gaze upon its beauty. It was the evening of the third day as they approached, and Searon’s eyes were wide with the view of the city. Nearly fourteen years had gone by since he had seen the place, and the changes were astounding.

  Before, there had been many large stone, brick, and wooden buildings, all finely made. Now there were towering buildings hundreds of paces into the sky, and they were all made of brick and stone. One of the towers was taller than them all and seemed to be hexagonal in shape and gray in color. The entire city was circled in a stone wall that was thirty paces tall. Searon only remembered it being twenty paces in height when he lived ther
e.

  They approached the gate and noticed four guards stationed there clad in ring mail armor. Each of them wore a steel helm where their faces weren’t visible. Long swords in scabbards were attached at their waists. Two stepped forward holding their hands out clad in metal gauntlets. The other two stayed back with hands on hilts of their swords watching the company.

  “What is your business in Legain?” a husky voice demanded.

  “We have come to speak with Noraes,” Karceoles said up, as Searon was at a loss for words.

  “What are your names?”

  The sun shone from his metal to blind the eyes of the four of them as they tried to look at him. Xython dismounted and walked over in a few hearty steps. A wide grin was planted on his face.

  “Brexhar, is that you?” Xython asked.

  The guard shifted his eye to see better. “Xython, what brings you here? And who are your friends?”

  “This is Searon, and his friend Karceoles. I have come here with them, with my sister.”

  “Why are they here to see Noraes?”

  “Searon is Noraes’s brother.”

  Brexhar’s eyes went wide, and he looked toward Searon and nodded. He turned to another guard, “Go inform Noraes that his brother has come to speak with him.”

  “Yes, sir.” The guard saluted and headed through the small door next to the gate.

  Xython and Brexhar shared a conversation for a few minutes before the guard came back. He approached Brexhar and whispered in his ear.

  Brexhar nodded and looked to Searon. “You may enter. He is in the barracks on the eastern side of the city. Do you know where that is?”

  “If it is the same place it was fourteen years ago.”

  Brexhar’s head tilted. “Yes…but if it’s been fourteen years, then a few changes have been made.”

  “I can already see that.”

  “Open the gate!” Brexhar called behind him.

  The metal drop gate began to rise, and Searon rode in followed by his three companions. People scurried through the streets on their busy tasks without paying notice to Searon and his company as they rode in. A few did stop to stare for a moment at his horse, but other than that everybody’s business seemed to be more important. There were hundreds of homes and businesses scattered throughout, if not thousands. It was a gigantic city with a handful of towers and a large castle on the southern side. Most of the houses were brick or stone, as protection against sieges, but there were a few wooden homes and businesses. Yet they were thick and strong with stain to match the rest of the city’s rustic appearance.

  Warriors patrolled the ground between all the civilians that were traveling from one place to another, either trying to buy food from merchants or visit their friends. Food stands were set up everywhere, and many attempted to get Searon’s attention with porridge or fresh fruits, but he didn’t stop. The people were beginning to dwindle as the sun set in the west, and they cleared as they passed through the stands and markets.

  They passed blacksmiths, bell makers, shoe makers, lumber mills, and several other businesses. The barracks was an octagonal shape and close to the castle next to a large blacksmith and stable. Searon rode to the stable and handed the stable boy two gold coins to take care of the four horses.

  “You three should find an inn. I wish to see my brother alone.” He handed a few gold coins to the wizard.

  He didn’t give them a chance to respond and began walking toward the barracks. A dozen warriors stood outside to guard it when he walked up. They looked at him for a moment, studying him, before one of the men’s eyes grew large.

  “Searon? Is that really you?”

  Searon smiled. “Is my brother inside?”

  “Yes, I have heard you came back, but I didn’t believe it.”

  “May I enter?”

  “Yes, oh, sorry.”

  He moved away from the entrance along with the other few guards. Searon nodded and smiled to him before stepping inside. The interior was full of wandering warriors either studying books on tactics, or weapons that hung on the walls. Various types of armor hung on the walls, too, from leather, plate mail, chain mail, scale mail, and ring mail. Each seemed expertly crafted and held slightly different designs than their counterparts.

  Nobody seemed to notice him except for a woman who smiled and walked over. She was clad in brown leather armor with a bow over her shoulder and dagger at her sash. Her smile was intoxicating, with a perfect balance of teeth showing through her soft thick lips. Long auburn hair fell down her face in braids of black and red. Her nose was thin and crooked with small freckles on it. Cold gunmetal eyes stared deep into his without a blink.

  “What are you searching for, stranger?”

  “I am looking for Noraes.”

  “He awaits you in the practicing arena.” She pointed to a thin stone door without a window.

  “Thank you.” Searon bowed his head slightly.

  Inside the door was a vast area that looked like wilderness. Stones, trees, streams, and grass flourished through the area. For a moment, he thought he was back outside in some hidden place within the city. A warrior rushed by him, ducking from stone to stone with a keen eye out into the wilderness. When he thought he was clear, he leaped out, and three arrows struck him hard, and he fell. Searon rushed forward to grab him when three more warriors leaped from seemingly nowhere and went to his aid. Two went forward to pull him to safety while another guarded them in front with a large wooden shield to protect from three more arrows that bounced off.

  Searon noticed that the arrows on the ground weren’t fixed with sharp tips but smooth stones. He walked up to the squad of warriors, shaking his head.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “The training ground, sir,” a man in thick leather armor and short black hair said.

  “What is your objective?”

  “To reach the captain on the other side.”

  Searon scanned the area, noticing the large field had little cover. A few stones were scattered throughout that provided little protection against arrows. The archers were in three separate points in the farthest reach of the arena. He could see their eyes over stone and knew they were being watched.

  “Is he done?” Searon asked, looking at the man who got hit by stone arrows. He was rubbing his chest where he was hit. Welts probably covered the areas.

  “Yes, more than two arrows hit him.”

  “Crossguards,” Searon smiled.

  “Yes…the same rules apply.”

  “Sometimes in Crossguards, a sacrifice must be made.”

  “Can you beat this?”

  “Yes…I know these rules. I also know the style of play being used. Do you see those two close stones on the far side? Three archers hide behind those. Do you see the two stones on the sides? The swordsmen wait behind those to ambush.”

  “How do we get past that?”

  “Simple, you fight. Grab another shield, and have two of you carry shields to guard the other two as you make for those two rocks. Expect the ambush, and one of you drop a shield to defend.” He studied their hardened wood swords and shook his head. “Meanwhile, those archers will meet their ends, and I’ll meet back with you.”

  Each looked at his claymore in turn with wide eyes. He only smiled. “Do not worry, I will not kill them.”

  He waited until the four of them dashed into the opening. Arrows began soaring but were easily blocked by the two shields. They ran straight toward the two large stones, and when they were twenty paces away, Searon dashed from his coverage. He went a different path along the side of the clearing. His feet carried him quickly, and by the time the battle was in full force he was there behind the archers. He drew his claymore as he looked at the three. None of them saw him and he gently tapped the blade against each in turn.

  “Dead,” he said.

  The three looked at him with wide eyes but set their bows down and bowed to him. He nodded and came from the clearing to where the three were still fighting.
The one with the shield had been struck down. There were four opponents, but none of them noticed as Searon came from behind. He still held the claymore in his hand, and he tapped each of them in the back with his weapon. The four turned to stare at him and dropped their swords in turn.

  “Dead,” he grinned.

  A horn erupted through the quiet air, and over a dozen men entered the field. Each stared wildly at Searon. Some whispered to each other and pointed. Searon stood motionless but stared at each one of them. He gently placed his claymore back in it scabbard and crossed his arms.

  A man stepped through the crowd of men in full scale mail that glittered blue in color. It didn’t appear to be battle worn in the slightest, as if it was new armor or newly refurbished. His blue-and-silver helm was secured on his head. Searon could only see his deep hazel eyes, thick bronze eyebrows, long eyelashes, sharp nose, and pursed lips. Suddenly, the captain smiled and took off his helm. His dirty-blond hair was just past his ears, and his face was clean, except the scruff of a beard that desperately wanted to show but was still near invisible. A large brown mole rested on his face above his left eyebrow, a birthmark.

  He walked up to Searon and lay a hand on his shoulder. “Brother, it’s been a long time.”

  Chapter 26

  Andron made sure the three of them were packed as soon as the sunlight touched the sky in the morning. The dirt roads were clear and open through flat terrain with only a few slopes of elevation. No animals or people crowded the abandoned roads, and that thought brought chills to Andron’s spine. The sea beyond was always visible as they traveled, and a constant reminder of more pleasant thoughts. Starlyn’s eyes didn’t seem to waver from the sea on the west of the road. It seemed that her eyes were glued, and several times she bumped into Andron with an apology, but soon after her eyes glanced back to the sea.

  “Is this your first time seeing the sea?” Andron asked.

  Her head seemed to shake from her thoughts as she glanced back toward Andron. “I have never been this far from my land. This much water…it’s incredible.”