Spirit of the Sword: Pride and Fury (The First Sword Chronicles Book 1)

by Frances Smith

  Michael's eyes widened as the door fell in shards and splinters before his eye. God under the waves, how did our Amy become so strong?

  How did she end up living with naiads?

  Gideon's smile was very nearly a smirk. "Thank you, Ameliora. Now then-" He stopped, abruptly turning his head to look at the far west corner of the square, where a group of minotaurs squatted together, gathered around what looked at a distance to be a couple of wounded minotaurs. Their bodies were covered in fur: some black, some brown, some reddish, some tan. Their horns were long, their hands were the size of turbots. Their bodies looked strong and muscular, and though they were sitting down they were as tall as some people even then. Michael was sure they would tower over men once they stood up.

  "Who are they?" Gideon asked.

  Amy shrugged. "I don't know. There's a fair few of them around. Some of them help out with the sick in the temple infirmary. I haven't spoken to them though. Honestly...I don't know what to think about them."

  "What in the Empire do you mean?" Gideon said softly.

  "Most naiads in my position would probably have driven them out of the town by now," Amy said. "The elder races don't have a lot of time for minotaurs. It doesn't sit right with me to call someone vermin for what they are, so I've not done anything to them, but...how can anyone be so passive. They also seem so nice, it makes me wonder what they're up to."

  "What they are up to," Gideon said coldly. "Is living by their ancient way of life, under the protection of the Empress. Michael, come with me."

  "Where, my lord?"

  "To say hello," Gideon said. "I want you to meet them."

  Michael furrowed his brow. "Why, my lord?"

  "Because these are the Empress' most faithful servants, and you should know of their ways," Gideon said. "Come."

  Gideon began to cross the square quickly, leaving Michael to follow in his wake, making two strides to Gideon's one just to keep up with him. Swiftly, Gideon passed through the crowds of people and stood before the cluster of a dozen, no there were fifteen minotaurs in all, three of them nursing injuries, cuts to their arms or legs that looked as though they had been dealt by swords. Some of them others had brusies from clubs or sticks, but were otherwise in good health. They all, Michael noticed, had a mark on their foreheads, like a birthmark, that looked almost like a silver star.

  Gideon bent down with his knees, keeping his head up as he did so. "Under the peace that the Mother brought I, Gideon Commenae, greet these children of the Knosso Mina and ask the Mother's blessings upon you."

  The minotaurs looked at one another, and as far as he could tell Michael thought Gideon had surprised them. At length a tall, black minotaur rose to his feet - as Michael had expected, he loomed over them - and spoke in a deep voice, "You know something of our ways. That is a rare thing in these times. Are you a true servant of the Mother then?"

  Gideon said something in a guttural language that Michael did not understand, and the minotaurs, those who were not too badly hurt, reciprocated the gesture he had just made to them, bowing at the knees but keeping their heads high. Michael thought it looked strange, until he realised that with those horns on their heads, bowing their necks was more like a prelude to murder than a show of respect.

  The black minotaur said, "The light of the Mother shine on you, First Sword and Faith-Keeper. I am Vas im Knosso, a Lesser Horn but leader of our folk in this place."

  "How many of the Knosso tarry here? And what brought you to this place?" Gideon asked.

  "Two score, trapped here by ill luck," Vas said. "I and my companions were droving cattle south from Romanopolis when the fighting began. When the Crimson Rose came upon us we offered them whatever they wished, as is our way. They took our cattle, our fat cows and our splendid bulls; and then they turned their weapons on us. They called us invaders, they killed eight of us and wounded another dozen. Most of our wonded died on the way here, or are dying in the infirmary of the god these folk call Turo. Your presence, Faith-Keeper, brightens a dark sky."

  "As your presence brightens my horizon," Gideon replied. "Have you a Speaker in this city."

  "We have," Vas said. "But what would the First Sword require with-"

  "It has been a long time since I have been able to unburden myself," Gideon said, his voice quiet and carrying - for some reason that Michael comprehended not - a faint undertone of shame. "I would very much like to do so now."

  Vas made a bass rumbling noise in his throat. "Lech, take the First Sword to Kassim."

  Lech, another minotaur with red-brown fur, made the bobbing motion at the knees. "Of course. Follow me, Faith-Keeper."

  Gideon said. "This here is my man, Michael. If there is anything you need, speak to him and he will do what he can to help you."

  "I will, my lord?"

  "You were the one who wanted to help them, Michael," Gideon said, almost laughing as he patted Michael on the shoulder and turned to go, following Lech through the crowds and out of the square.

  The minotaurs stared at him, to the point where Michael wanted to bind all of their eyes to make it stop.

  "Gentlemen," Michael said, clinging to his courtesy in the face of his discomfort. "Is there anything that you require."

  "We are content," Vas said.

  "I see," Michael said.

  A most uncomfortable silence descended on them.

  Michael said, "If you forgive my curiousity, why were you so quick to obey my lord?"

  Vas made a rumbling sound with his throat. "He is First Sword, you know this do you not?"

  Michael nodded. "I know it well enough. Why does that matter so much to you?"

  Vas said, "We minotaurs are the oldest people in this world. My ancestors walked these hills before men, before elves or orcs, before any of the so-called elder races. We are so old we have forgotten who made us, or where we came from; we have even forgotten our gods.

  "Yet for most of the long life of our race we have been hunted, cursed, spat on and assaulted by whoever was the latest to rule here. We have been called monsters, creatures of evil, vermin. It is said that by the time of the beginnings of your Empire we were a dying race, only scattered handfuls remaining throughout the world.

  "It was Aegea, the Divine Empress, who rescued our people. She took us under her protection, put a stop to the hunting, made us citizens of the Empire and undertook the rituals of the labyrinth to become a member of the Kreta Mina. She welcomed any minotaur to enter her domain. She became our god as surely as she was the god of her human subjects. Unlike men, we have never forsaken the worship of the Empress. We swore to serve eternally, and we still serve to this day. But not for five hundred years has a man come to us who serves also, who has stood in the presence of the Empress as none have since Thetis' day, who can claim the title of First Sword anointed by Aegea. That is why we call him Faith-Keeper, because alone of all men he obeys the Empress as all men did in days long past.

  "That is why we obey him without question: because he is the voice of our saviour, the first such prophet in too long a time, and we could not do otherwise."

  "I see," Michael said. I see that Lord Gideon is an even greater man than I imagined. "Well, as my lord said, if you have any needs, then come to me. Until then, gentlemen, good day." Michael bowed, and turned away, his red cloak trailed behind him as he made his way back to where Amy waited at the entrance to the warehouse.

  "Where's your Lord Gideon gone?" she asked.

  "I think he's gone to see a priest," Michael said. "Though they do not call it that."

  "A minotaur priest?" Amy asked. "I didn't know they had them. Not to mention why a man would be interested."

  "Lord Gideon is not a normal man," Michael said. "As you will find out when you travel with us. Is there anything else that can be done?"

  "Nothing big or grand," Amy said. "Usually I end up pacing the parapet of the walls. Or just wandering amongst the people seeing if there's anything specific that they want."

  "Right,"
Michael murmured as he looked at all the desperate people. He looked back at Amy, and felt himself torn between a desire to ask her where she had been and how she had become what she now was, and a fear of what she might say to him if he did. Michael found himself wanting to break the silence that was spreading between them, but unable to do so. Felix's death...he had treated Amy quite apallingly afterwards, and now that the euphoria of his rediscovery had passed he did not know how he could ever make amends for it.

  "I will go, and see if anyone needs anything that I can provide," Michael said.

  Amy frowned, and looked as though she wanted to say something, but in the end she nodded. "Off you go then. I'll do the same."

  Michael wandered amongst the huddled masses seeing if there was anything he could do. The young lady in the remnants of her expensive dress was shivering with cold, so Michael took off his cloak and draped it around her shoulders. The old woman with her grand-daughter asked if he had seen her son upon the road, Michael was forced to reply that he had not.

  As the sun began to set he came across a group of four children with no parents in sight, sitting in a circle, sharing their food between them.

  One of them, a young boy with big round eyes, tugged at the hem of Michael's cloak. "Are you Michael Callistus?"

  Michael knelt down. "I am."

  The boy gasped, his eyes getting even bigger. "I knew it was you! I said it was, didn't I?"

  One of the girls, her blonde hair barely visible under all the muck, nodded and said in a serious tone, "He did."

  "I saw you fight last year in the arena. I saw you win, you were brilliant," the boy said.

  The girl nodded again, and went on in that extra-serious way, "You're his hero."

  Michael grinned. "I am truly honoured. What are your names?"

  "What's it to you?" the oldest boy, about twelve or thirteen, demanded suspiciously.

  "Nothing, I suppose, except that you know my name and it would be courtesy to give me yours," Michael said.

  "There hasn't exactly been much room for courtesy in our lives lately," the young man said.

  "Don't be so rude, Judah," the second girl remonstrated.

  "We can't trust anybody who isn't us," Judah said. "How do we know he isn't a spy?"

  "You do not, but you will be awfully lonely if you never trust anyone," Michael said. "Are these your brother and sisters?"

  After a pause, Judah admitted, "No. Naboth and Ruth are brother and sister, but Leah and I aren't related to them or each other. But we found each other on the road, and I've been taking care of them ever since. They've been watching my back too."

  "Sounds like you're a good man, and I'm pleased to meet you all," Michael said. "Did your...are you all alone here?"

  Naboth's head drooped. "They said they'd try to find us, but they never did."

  "But we're not alone," Leah said. "Because we've got each other."

  Michael nodded sadly. "Aye. True enough." Turo grant you fare better than my family did when all we had was each other.

  Judah looked away for a moment, scratching the back of his neck. "I thought that when we got to Davidheyr we'd find someone who could take the little ones in, Naboth and Ruth at least. But, you see how it is." His face became fierce, and he stood up with one hand on Leah's shoulder and the other on Ruth's head, "But if they're mine to take care of then they're mine! I don't care if you are some arena champion, I won't let you or anybody else hurt them! Anyone tries and I'll kill them!"

  "What with?" Michael asked, staring into Judah's eyes. Don't cry, Miranda, everything's going to be all right. I'll take care of everything from now on. He took a pair of knives out of his belt, and placed them at Judah's feet. "Now, I don't know if Judah's going to keep both of these or if he trusts one of the you with the other, but I do not give them to you so you may brawl like dockhands. These are for protecting one another, from the Crimson Rose and anybody else who tries to hurt you, understand? Because you are a family now, and as often as not family is all a man has in this world; so hold on to it." Judah picked up one knife, and handed Leah the other. She accepted it with wide eyed solemnity.

  Naboth nodded. "Are you going to fight the bad men? Are you going to keep us safe?"

  Michael sensed that the children were not the only people waiting for an answer to that question. He could practically hear people leaning closer to listen. Lord Gideon will want us to leave as soon as we are able. But to leave these people here, at the mercy of the Quaestor and the Crimson Rose, could that ever be the right thing to do? Oh God, why can the world not be as simple as the arena was? But looking down at those anxious faces, at Naboth's eager faith, at the trust that so reminded him of Felix, Michael found he could not voice his doubts, or his concerns of what Lord Gideon would want. All he could do was smile reassuringly and say, "Worry not. My lord master will not allow those scum to come anywhere near any of you."

  "I knew it," Naboth said. "I knew you were going to save us. You really are a hero!"

  A hero is what these people need, right enough. Michael thought. But it deserves a better one than me. A hero did not appear to be forthcoming, though. When the elves kept men in bondage, and used them cruelly, Jonathon and David rose up to declare they would not have it, and liberated the first Coronim from oppression. When Corona was being strangled by Turo's wrath, Simon and Gabriel assuaged it and went on to fight for all mankind against the Eldest. But who fights now against the Crimson Rose?

  Michael stepped back from the children, looking around at the crowds that reminded him so much of the frightened people of Lover's Rock, crowded inside the temple. Could he go with Gideon, and leave them to their fate? Could he stay here, and abandon Lord Gideon? Turo, will you not send me a sign, something that tells me what I am supposed to do?

  The keening cry of a bird of prey split the air, and Michael looked up to see two eagles circling over Davidheyr. After a moment a third eagle rose to join them, and they circled the town three more times before diving downwards out of sight.

  Michael frowned. Not exactly the answer he had been expecting, but still. He murmured to himself, "Is Amy the third eagle?"

  "Not trying to interpret the flights of birds, are you Michael?" Gideon was back, picking his way through the crowd with effortless ease to stand at Michael's shoulder.

  "Turo makes his intent known in many ways, my lord," Michael said defensively. "Do you not see the hand of the Empress at work in the world?"

  "If Her Majesty wished to give me orders, she would give them to me clear and straight," Gideon said. "It may be that there is providence in the fall of a sparrow, but I will put no stock in omens where I am required to blindly grope for the meaning." He looked around. "From what I have seen you are a very well behaved folk in this part of the Empire, and charitable too."

  Michael smiled a little. "The pride of Corona, my lord."

  Naboth reached out and tugged at Gideon's cloak. "You're a friend of Michael's aren't you? Are you a hero too?"

  Michael cleared his throat. "My lord is no gladiator like me, but a lord of the Empire and a true hero of this country; show some respect."

  Deference came hard to children, for Naboth continued unabated, "Michael said he's going to fight all the evil people, are you going to do that as well?"

  "Michael said that did he," Gideon looked at Michael sideways. "I see we shall have to have a lesson upon the subject of silence at some point. Have you spoken to Ameliora, yet?"

  "Words have passed between us, my lord," Michael said.

  Gideon rolled his eyes and shook his head. "She is an old friend you have not seen in years. Surely there must be something you wish to say to her."

  Michael blinked, and looked down at his sandals. "True, my lord, but I fear to say them."

  "Display the same courage you showed today agains the Crimson Rose and you will do very well," Gideon said. "Take the night off. Hear her long story. Be with her. Despite what some may tell you I am not completely heartless."

&n
bsp; Michael nodded. “As you will. Thank you, lord.”

  He found Amy where she had said that she would be, standing on the earthen ramparts looking out at the ground all around, though night was gathering and Michael could see very little in the gloom by now.

  "Do you think they'll come?" Amy asked, leaning upon the wall, her hands clasped in front of her. "Do you think they'll attack Davidheyr?"

  "They probably have the strength for it, I fear," Michael replied.

  "What I fear is that I won't be able to keep these people safe if they do come," Amy murmured. "There aren't enough men, and I'm afraid I'm not as strong or valiant as my namesake. I can't hold the gate all alone, even if they only come for the gate."

  "You aren't alone, our Amy," Michael said softly. "I'm here."

  Amy nodded. "That's right, you are, aren't you." She smiled. "We should probably talk, you and me. God knows that we've been putting it off all day."

  Michael nodded. "That...that would be for the best."

  "But not here," Amy said. "Come on, I know a quiet spot where no one will disturb us."

  Michael followed her across Davidheyr, down to a secluded spot on the river wharves, where Amy sat down upon the wooden pier with her legs dangling into the water. Michael sat next to her, his legs crossed so as to keep them dry. Amy looked up at the moon, and said nothing as Michael watched her.

  Amy's armour was not all its natural bone colour, some of it was daubed over in swirling shades of blue and green that matched her eyes perfectly. Her sword, which she had taken off and propped up next to her with one hand resting upon the hilt, was covered in strange rounded letters that Michael did not think he would have understood even had he been able to read. It was not metal, he was certain of that, instead it looked rather more like blue-green glass. Despite that, it still managed to look more substantial than either Lord Gideon's Duty or Piety. It was two handed and hefty, an unsubtle weapon. And to think, he could remember when cruel boys had stuffed Amy into a fishing net and dragged her along the sea front pelting her with stones and insults.