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The Crimson Claymore

Page 24

by Craig A. Price Jr.


  In a large crimson tent around a table sat all of the captains of the armies. Searon sat at the head with Starlyn and Karceoles on his sides. The wizard was smoking his pipe with the newfound pipe weed that Andron had introduced to him. Sh’on sat next to Karceoles, watching the wizard as if he were watching a child. Beyond that, it was Andron who sat next to Starlyn with Phoenix by his side, followed by Xython, Dennark, Mattenyi, and Extodus. On the other side next to Sh’on were Etherond, Leinard, Drahcirch, and Nhorjah.

  The fourteen of them sat around the table as they ate quite the feast. Many discussions were going on about battle tactics as well as the course of attack that would make the most sense. The table and tent that they sat in were removed from one of the large wagons so they could make a command center. In the morning, it would be taken down after they decided their course of action. The decisions were to be made during the course of the meal.

  “I don’t understand why we can’t strike the heart of the filthy creatures,” Etherond said with gravy dripping from his mouth and fist pounding on the table.

  “Only fools rush in…you fool. What you desire will kill many more men than is necessary. There are other ways to approach this,” Sh’on said.

  “The element of surprise would be effective; we should bash their heads in!” Drahcirch said as he brushed his medium chestnut hair from his eyes.

  “The effect could be catastrophic. What if these creatures are expecting us, or notice our large army approaching?” Mattenyi asked, scratching at his thick orange-and-white beard.

  “Shall we concentrate on one focal point, or would it be best to strike in sections?” Leinard asked.

  Leinard and Drahcirch were the only two who weren’t wearing breeches. Instead, each wore a wool kilt, Leinard’s being red, black, and white, appearing in a plaid pattern. Drahcirch’s was green, black, and white with the same pattern. Both of them were from separate armies of men that joined them from far-out lands away from the city. They weren’t as civilized as many of the other folk, but their fighting tactics were extraordinary. Most wielded axes or blunt weapons, but the few who held swords were powerful fighters and held large broadswords.

  “If we focus too much on one location, what stops them from attacking our homes?” Nhorjah asked.

  Searon sat silent, twisting his left arm back and forth while fiddling with his two pearl buttons on his crimson silk shirt. He wasn’t used to wearing silk, and the texture felt odd to him. Karceoles insisted that he dress as a general when he’d be more comfortable in either his armor or a plain button-up cotton shirt. Out of all the men sitting at the table, only Searon was dressed in silk. It gave him the presence of leadership compared to the rest. Both Sh’on and Karceoles were the only ones in robes while most of the rest wore leather armor or plate mail. Searon felt lost without his crimson-crested claymore secured tightly in its scabbard. His eyes drifted to the corner where it rested on his dresser.

  He was eager for the meeting to be over so he could attempt sleep once more. It didn’t come often for him because of the nightmares that broke his silent dreams every night. Sometimes, it felt like he could sleep for weeks, especially with the newfound stress of leading an attack, but once he lay down, his conscious wouldn’t allow him.

  He found the conversational arguing between the men of different lands humorous. Most of them didn’t look his way as if they were afraid to see what his opinion would be. Instead, they constantly bickered between each other in an attempt to persuade Searon one way or the other. Instead of focusing on words or ideas of what they had to say, he focused on their actions and tone. It was the best way to tell the leaders from the followers, as well as those who would be too hardheaded to control.

  “There are two outcomes that could come forth from either plan. If we choose to attack as one large force, we will be able to dominate settlement after settlement of both of these creatures. However, there is the likelihood that while our backs are turned there will be losses of our own. This is the swiftest route to destroy all the creatures that spawn in this land. However, a more effective, and safer, route would be to strike in small groups, scattered, in order to keep them on edge and too afraid to separate their armies to attack our cities. It would be a constant battle of trying to feed them to our larger force. The time it would take and the strategy would be overwhelming.” Karceoles paused to study Searon for a moment as he puffed his long-stem pipe. “However, it is possible, and would be more effective, as it would prevent as many losses from both our armies as well as the citizens in villages and cities.”

  “A valid point and wise words. I am quite impressed with you, wizard,” Starlyn said softly into the silence.

  Sh’on chuckled. “There are oftentimes even my cousin surprises me. Usually, his thick head and dry wit are his undoing. However, there are times I think he only uses his personality as a front to his actual knowledge.”

  “Can ye handle such a task, Master Searon?” Leinard asked.

  “If it pleases this council, strategy has always been in my favor in Crossguards,” Searon grinned.

  The comment received chuckles from half of the group while the others sat in silence and seemed to stare at him in disbelief. Searon didn’t understand the seriousness of some people; without a bit of fun or jokes in life, it all seemed too bland to want to continue on. Karceoles sure kept things entertaining, but he seemed borderline insane sometimes.

  “If you expect us to put all our trust into one who is skilled at a child’s game, then we are surely doomed,” Drahcirch said.

  “Have you such little faith in one who not only a wizard supports, but a mage…and a kheshlar?” Karceoles challenged.

  “I have faith in you, wizard. I’ll put my trust where you see fit, but don’t expect me to trust foolishness.”

  “And what would you have us do, if this were your war to lead?”

  “For one, I would not treat as a mere game. This is a war, not a mere scrimmage. This a full-scale war. There be casualties, extreme ones, and it is expected many of us will die. Let us not walk into battle blindly; let us go steady with solid aim.”

  “Well spoken, Drahcirch.” Searon said. “I am not as playful as you would assume. I was merely trying to lighten the mood. I do have experience in leadership and tactics. Never before have I led such a force, but I am fully confident in my capabilities, as are those who sit around me.”

  “I accept your leadership.”

  “This is agreeable. If there is anywhere you think I lack, I would be more than happy to accept advice,” Searon said.

  “My first advice? Do not trust wizards,” Drahcirch said.

  Searon smiled. “That, my friend, is excellent advice.”

  “What is your course of action, Sir Searon?” Andron asked.

  “We will scout to find the largest settlement, and when it is found we will strike it with our full force. After they are destroyed, we will separate into smaller forces where we will weaken the smaller settlements to prevent them from breaking away to savage our villages and cities.”

  “A fine course of action, my lord,” Etherond said, shattering the silence.

  Everyone seemed to agree in either nods or low murmurs. Whispers began to erupt through the tent with captains talking among themselves. Searon sat back and closed his eyes, letting the darkness consume him. A swirling image broke the darkness—of Victoria’s face. At first it, was sweet and innocent, with a smile. Soon, however, it transformed into some sort of demon dripping blood, and Searon tore his eyes open, flinching.

  “Are ye all right, my laird?” Leinard asked.

  “Yes, yes I’m quite all right. It’s only a memory of the past. Leinard, you and Drahcirch pick some men to scout south. Andron, the same north, and Etherond, you pick some of your trusted men and search east.”

  “What about the west?” Nhorjah asked.

  “Starlyn and Sh’on will search west and meet the kheshlars. While there, make sure they are safe, and if there are any kheshla
rn allies you think may help, at least pass on the knowledge of a brewing war to help protect their land.”

  “It will be done.” Starlyn nodded her head with a toothless smile.

  “This meeting is adjourned, please report back to me first thing in the morning with some news.”

  Everyone bid Searon farewell and exited the tent one by one. He took off his silk shirt and tossed it onto the floor, exposing his muscular chest and abdomen. His chest was covered in thick hair as well as some of his stomach. Instead of putting something else on, he walked around to his desk to begin writing battle schematics. Karceoles was the only left in the tent, and instead of leaving, he walked up to Searon and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “That was well done, boy.”

  “If it was so well done, then perhaps you should not call me a boy.”

  Karceoles grinned. “Do you expect problems from Drahcirch?”

  “Of course.”

  “Are you worried?”

  “No.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because, despite his lack of respect for the leadership, this party has chosen, and I do not blame him in the slightest. I still don’t understand why I’m to lead this expedition. His opinions of what our ultimate goal is in compliance to mine. No matter if he kills me in my sleep to usurp me as a commander, his goal is still the same. The extermination of the draeyks. That is all that matters. So long as it is finally done, it should not matter who is the one to lead these men to victory.”

  “Wise words from a leader.”

  “Wise? No, not wise, foolish. Foolish words from one who holds nothing precious in life. There is one thing left for me in this land, Karceoles, and it is not friends or family. Those are gone. I am here for revenge. If I die in the process of a good cause to avenge my family, then so be it. All it will mean is I will go with the creator sooner, and back to my family that already awaits me in the paradise land.”

  “Even after what happened to your family, you still believe?”

  “Should I not? It is the last ounce of hope I still possess, that when this life is over, I may have the opportunity to be with them again. Do you doubt, wizard?”

  “I have no doubts.”

  “Let me rest now, Karceoles, I have much work to do.”

  “As you wish…my lord.”

  Searon smirked as he watched the old man leave the tent. His head began to hurt with the haunting memories. They seemed to be coming out of his dreams to torment him during the day. He didn’t have to last forever, just long enough to start the war. After that, it wouldn’t matter who was leading them. He massaged his temples and closed his eyes to enjoy the silence. Yet inside his head, there was no silence; it was broken by the constant screams of Victoria.

  * * *

  At midafternoon the next day, Searon stood on the tallest hilltop, looking south. The scouts from the north and east had already returned. There was still no news from anyone from the south or west. Searon expected Starlyn and Sh’on to remain in Sudegam for a bit to visit with other kheshlars, yet the scouts from the south should have returned soon after dawn. He ordered more scouts be sent, one from each captain’s party, to find those that traveled south. There was still no word from those scouts either.

  “What do you think is postponing them?” Searon asked.

  “I do not know, my lord; those are my best men. I am afraid there is a reason they haven’t returned,” Leinard said.

  “I should ride south to find them,” Searon said before whistling to his horse.

  “No, my lord, let me send someone.” Leinard grabbed his arm.

  “These are my men out there, if they are in danger, then I need to be there for them.”

  Stripes trotted up the hill until coming to a stop at its peak. In the distance, a lone man on a horse trotted forward with three arrows wedged between his armor in his chest, stomach, and shoulder. He was still a league off and seemed as if he was being chased. Searon didn’t waste any time; it did not matter to him how many were following him. The information the wounded warrior had would be useless if he fell to his foes. He didn’t wait to speak to the members of his council, although he did hear their objections from behind as he galloped forward.

  Searon knew those behind him couldn’t see as well as he; his vision was beyond that of any human and even exceeded some of the kheshlars. He saw at least three daerions chasing the poor warrior and wasn’t sure how many more were trailing behind. They almost seemed faster than the man’s injured horse. If Searon didn’t arrive soon, he would be lost with whatever had happened to him and the rest of the scouts.

  As he galloped, he noticed something pass him from behind, or someone, rather. When he focused his eyes, he noticed that it was Starlyn with her hammer already out. Her speed excelled that of his horse, and it was a good thing she arrived just then as she blocked an incoming strike that nearly took the scout’s head off. He tumbled to the ground instead as Starlyn stood over him, blocking the strikes of the three savage creatures.

  Searon arrived and promptly hopped from his horse to better wield his glowing crimson claymore. Both he and Starlyn fought in unison with each other without a word from either. She seemed focused, and he imagined the news from her wasn’t going to be well received. After only a few minutes the rest of his guards and council members arrived and made short work of the three creatures.

  Breathless, Searon sat on the ground with the tip of his claymore embedded in the dirt. Starlyn looked down at him with a grim look upon her face, but he dare not ask her anything. Instead, he turned to the dying scout.

  “What news do you bring from the south?”

  “Invasion…Legain,” he said with less breath than Searon.

  “How many?”

  “Thousands,” The man said in a whisper.

  Searon cursed under his breath before turning to his men. “Take this man away; get him medical attention.”

  Wiping the sweat that was covering his brow, he turned to Starlyn. “Are there any better tidings from you?”

  “I’m afraid not. The kheshlars may not be part of this war, but they keep a close eye on the happenings of the draeyks. All their camps have been abandoned.”

  Searon cursed again. “Everybody pack; we’re headed for Legain.”

  “My lord, if they’ve already attacked, we may not be able to make it on time.”

  It hit him to the heart that in his absence to seek revenge that he may have condemned his brother to death. There was no water on the planet thicker than blood, and he was not about to abandon his brother.

  “Watch us,” he whispered before pulling Stripes’s reins hard.

  Chapter 32

  Searon pushed everybody to their limits, even himself. Everyone followed him without question, even those that were in doubts only days before. There wasn’t anyone who wasn’t growing weary, but they all kept their mouths shut. They knew that it was more important to reach the city in time. Many of those men were kin to those in the cities and villages of the south. The rest had already developed friendships with those of the south and were welcoming them to their homes and pubs for feasts in the north after destroying draeyks.

  Most of their journey was silent because using breath would be using too much energy that could better be conserved for travel. Searon had a hard time staying behind with his men when he had Stripes that could gallop faster than any of the men could run. He knew it would be a foolish act because he wouldn’t be able to fight an entire army by himself, no matter how much he wanted to. Even with Starlyn keeping his pace – the two of them were still no match. Searon did ride ahead with Karceoles and Starlyn by his side. Many of the human captains weren’t far behind on their own horses as well as a few thousand cavalry.

  It was impressive to say the least at the progress of the men on foot. None of them seemed to take breaks but continued walking throughout. Many had canteens and dried meat in their packs that they used while they marched. They knew it was their duty to protect the p
eople of Calthoria and wouldn’t give up hope due to tiredness. Searon was quite proud of the effort and continued to push them.

  What should have taken the army two weeks by foot ended up only taking just over a week. Searon and Karceoles had made it to Legain in little over a week by horse, and yet they took several breaks between. There was no time for such luxuries on the second journey. He wasn’t sure if his homeland was already being attacked or if the raids had just begun. Nothing was clear in the scouts’ words other than before he could reach the cities he would be intercepted by the creatures. Either way, Searon knew that he was going to be late to come to his brother’s aid. During the travel, the ravens had come with letter after letter of assistance needed near Legain. Searon cursed his luck as he read each one.

  The weather became hotter the farther south they traveled. It didn’t seem as hot the last time Searon passed through, but water scattered the ground in a fresh rain that seemed to bake in the sunlight. The humidity was nearly unbearable as it caked his skin in pounds of water that soaked into his cloth riding gear. He felt suffocated in a mask of a blanket that wrapped around, him yet no matter what he would do, it would never tear off.

  He had taken his armor off the instant the heat rose from the morning and attached it to his saddlebags. There was little doubt in his mind that with his armor still on he would have been baked to the back of his horse like a fried egg. The heat didn’t slow him or his men, though, as they trudged through the unbearable heat and rough terrain.

  Birds seemed to keep a constant chirp around him that was very different from the birds around the kheshlarn capital of Sudegam. Instead of being in chorus with each other with soothing melodies, they seemed to be in competition to see who the best singer was. It was still soothing to Searon’s ears as he’d rather hear that than silence. The sound of birdsongs gave him enough inspiration to continue on without giving up. Even some crickets began chirping, which added a more soothing effect.

 

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