Alaric Swifthand

by Steve Lazarowitz

  “Then we’ll have to keep our arrival a secret.”

  That seemed reasonable, until memory beat some sense into me. “It was also the place I told Areet to tell the authorities I was going.”

  “Why’d you go and do a stupid thing like that?”

  “Because you said you could never go home again and I agreed with you.”

  She looked at me. “Well then, we’d best make haste. With a little luck, we can be there and gone before anyone is the wiser.”

  I was about to protest, when I noticed the gleam in her eyes. I knew Modron would indeed be our destination, because once Theona got that look, there would be no changing her mind.

  We finished breakfast and mounted, turning back the way we’d come. We’d have to circle Athour completely, which would waste even more time. I could only hope those who pursued wouldn’t get to Modron before us.

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  Chapter Twelve

  I have, in my lifetime, been beaten and battered by any number of unlikely personages and events. Oftimes, I’ve found myself hurting so badly I couldn’t conceive of ever feeling able again. Yet next to my current agony, my previous brushes with injury seemed to pale in comparison.

  I had just spent a day in the saddle for the first time in my life. My spine was compacted, my leg muscles were forced into the most unnatural of arches and the skin of my inner thighs was chafed, as if someone had whittled it down with a dagger.

  The first time I’d crossed the distance between Modron and Athour, I had been on foot. While this wasn’t necessarily a fast way to travel, at least my legs hadn’t felt as if someone had set them aflame. So what if it took five days? At least, when I’d reached my destination, I’d been able to stand.

  Unfortunately, there was no choice. We had to get to Modron and be gone before anyone knew we were there, despite any number of factions that might have an interest in our arrival.

  First, I was a wanted man in Modron. I was wanted for the murder of a noble’s daughter. That she was riding beside me might not be enough to save my carcass, considering I had been exiled for seeing her in the first place.

  Then there was Theona, whom everyone thought was dead. She had made it abundantly clear she did not relish a chance run-in with one of her family.

  Behind us, the authorities pursued me for the murder of Prince Dendrac. Though not entirely guilty, for all intents and purposes, I was the one who would hang for it. And if all that wasn’t enough, the Prince’s companion, who also sought me, wasn’t much smaller than an oak. I was certain after our last meeting, he would swing first and ask questions later.

  Theona tried valiantly to suppress her amusement as I dismounted and tried to arrange myself into a comfortable position. I looked at her reproachfully.

  “Look, not everyone was born wealthy. I’m certain the first time you rode all day you felt the same way I do.”

  She smiled. “I can’t remember the first time I rode all day. I was pretty young. I still doubt I looked as sorry then as you do now.”

  I harrumphed, but otherwise didn’t reply. I couldn’t beat her at word play when I was feeling well. I wasn’t about to take her on now. Sensing my mood, she started to make camp, such as it was. In our case that meant tying up the horses and removing some bread from a saddlebag. I lay back on the ground and closed my eyes. I didn’t stir again until the next morning.

  The rest of the trip was more of the same—a day of riding, followed by a night of suffering. After the second night, Theona decided she was feeling amorous. I fell asleep while we were kissing. The next morning, her mood was as foul as mine. Served her right.

  We reached Modron without further incident. Since riding through the city streets would have called attention to us, we decided to walk them, which was fine by me. I wanted to sell the creatures, but Theona noted the people pursuing us might well be looking for horse thieves and the brands might give us away. I hated to admit it, but she was right. I found myself wondering what horse meat tasted like.

  It was strange coming home. Everything was almost, but not quite, exactly how I remembered it. It was the minute changes I couldn’t pinpoint, but must have been there, that threw me. It was almost as if I had never been away and had woken up in a slightly altered version of my world.

  After entering the gates, we headed for a nearby inn. The plan was relatively simple. I would stay in the room while she tried to pick a few pockets or steal some disguises, whichever turned out to be easier. Once that was accomplished, we would make our way to a man she knew. I hoped he was still there. I wasn’t quite clear on who he was, but from what I could gather, he was sort of a scholar. How he made a living reading books was beyond me. And so, apparently, were a lot of things.

  As I sat in our rundown room, I thought about my life. Aside from being pretty handy with a sword and rather agile in general, there were few skills I could lay claim to. I was intelligent, but not learned. I was fast, but not particularly strong. I could hold my liquor, but couldn’t often afford enough of it to make a difference. I couldn’t help but think, as I waited for Theona to return, there was something horribly wrong with me.

  Perhaps if I’d had a better upbringing, I would have more options. Alas, I knew nothing but the sword. Of course, if you’re going to know only one thing, the sword isn’t all that bad, especially if it happens to be a magical one.

  I thought then about the Sword of Truth. I’d been led to it by the passenger that had once possessed me. The weapon seemed to have a mind of its own, helping me at some points and dragging me into trouble at others, as if it was working toward its own ends. I wondered what kind of ends a sword could have, besides a point and hilt, that is.

  I drew the blade and set it on the table before me. I examined it in minute detail, taking in every inch of it.

  “What a fine piece of work you are,” I said aloud.

  “Thank you.”

  I stared at the thing. I stood up, took a step backwards and looked around. The voice wasn’t coming from the sword, but rather inside me. I was growing sort of tired of things invading my mind. I mean, if you were going to enter someone’s head, you could do a lot better than mine. I looked at it again and spoke.

  “You can talk!”

  “Gee, do ya think?”

  “Listen, don’t give me an attitude. I’d just as soon leave you here.” I really wouldn’t have, but I would be damned if I was going to let a weapon talk down to me, magical or otherwise.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh you don’t. And why might that be?”

  “Because you need me. Suppose you meet that giant again. Do you think you could take him yourself?”

  “No. But if you hadn’t killed Prince Dendrac, then I wouldn’t have to worry about it, would I?”

  “Precisely the reason I did it. Now you’re forced to keep me, which fits my plans perfectly.”

  “Which are?”

  “My own.”

  “I see.”

  Actually, I didn’t see. How did this kind of thing always end up happening to me? First the passengers, now this. “So what now?”

  “That depends. Just remember. You need me.”

  I cursed. Then cursed again. The sword chuckled.

  “What’s so damned funny?”

  “You. You’re pathetic.”

  “Pathetic? I’ll give you pathetic. I’ll snap you so fast, you won’t even….”

  The door opened and Theona entered. “Alaric, who are you talking to?”

  I looked at her, then at the sword and knew immediately I should tell her the truth. Before I could do so, however, the sword spoke in my head.

  “Go ahead. Tell her. She’ll never believe you.”

  I looked at the sword, then back to Theona. I knew I shouldn’t lie, and had a feeling this particular incident would later come back to haunt me, but the sword was right. She wouldn’t believe me. I was the one hearing the voice and only barely believed it myself.

&
nbsp; “Well?” she asked, impatient for an answer.

  I sighed. “I was talking to myself.”

  I heard the sword chuckle in my head, “Coward!”

  I turned toward it, but the reply on my lips remained unspoken. I couldn’t answer it in front of Theona.

  She placed a bag down on the table, which presumably contained some kind of disguise. The Sword of Truth continued to laugh as she reached inside.

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  Chapter Thirteen

  Life with Theona was not always an easy thing. Not only was she devastatingly intelligent, but she was also more than somewhat mischievous. The two traits together did not bode well for me. It was with no small amount of resignation that I agreed to her choice of disguise. Even now, so many years later, the conversation is burned into my memory.

  “I’m going to what?”

  She smiled. “Shave your head. All of the priests of Selantha do it.”

  “But I’m not a priest.”

  “But you’re trying to escape detection. Remember, I’m not the one with a price on my head.”

  She had me there. More than one loyal citizen wouldn’t mind seeing my head on a pike.

  “This is ridiculous.”

  “No it isn’t. It’s perfect. The priests of Selantha not only paint their faces, as I’m sure you’re aware, but also take vows of silence. They’re never found without their apprentice, with whom they communicate telepathically. Which means if you need to say something, you shut up, we touch heads and I answer for you. This will keep us out of trouble.”

  I wasn’t aware of any such thing and was fairly certain she knew that. This was one argument she was not going to win. “I am not shaving my head, painting my face or allowing you to speak for me!”

  She looked at me, impishly. “Okay, forget it. It was just an idea. Give me the book and I’ll take it to my friend without you. You can wait here until I get back.”

  “But I don’t want to wait here.”

  Theona shrugged. “Gee, that’s too bad. Because I am NOT going to go out to steal you another disguise.”

  I was about to argue further, when my sword interjected. I had, of course, only recently found out it could do so.

  “If I were you, I would go with her. Believe me when I say, this is one place you don’t want her to go alone.”

  “Now what do you know about it?” I asked.

  “What?” she asked.

  I sighed. “Nothing.”

  Between Theona and my trusty sword, I was well on my way to a nervous breakdown. Still, I couldn’t ignore the sword’s advice. It didn’t matter it had an agenda of its own, of which I knew nothing. It was still far more aware of things than I.

  “Fine, I’ll do it.”

  I didn’t speak again, not even after my hair lay in a pile at my feet and my face was covered in large, multicolored triangles. One thing was certain. Even my closest friend wouldn’t recognize me. I was more than a little self-conscious as I left the room and entered the street.

  The looks of respect bordering on awe made some of it worth it, Theona’s amusement notwithstanding. Somehow, I would make her pay for this.

  We moved through the streets slowly, a priest and his apprentice. Theona, of course, held the book. It wouldn’t do for an important person like me to carry it. Everywhere we went, people deferred to us, bowing their heads as we passed. We acted as if we didn’t notice or care. Come to think of it, I might have made a good priest.

  She led me to a section of town I had seldom visited. Street rabble like me would have been out of place here, and no situation had ever presented itself that required me to explore the area. Whomever we were about to visit had apparently done well for himself.

  The streets were emptier here than in the neighborhoods I was used to, and the houses larger and more imposing. Between them, gardens were bright, beautiful and well tended.

  Theona walked with her head high, probably feeling at home for the first time in years. This, more than anything else, spoke volumes about how different we really were. Not for the first time, I wondered how our relationship had lasted as long as it had.

  We stopped at a house that wasn’t large, but was certainly impressive. It was made of stone and looked like a miniature castle, complete with a parapet and a single tower. The large, double wooden doors each supported an iron ring, which I proceeded to use. I stepped back and waited for a response.

  After a few long moments, the door swung silently open and a man stood before us. He wasn’t quite what I expected. He must have been in his late twenties. He wore his long black hair in a ponytail and it perfectly matched his neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His eyes were so dark they almost matched too. The effect was rather disconcerting, making it look as if each eye contained a giant pupil. He had the type of body women die for … or at least kill for. He wore an expensive black silk robe, which perfectly set off his fair skin, and matching leather sandals on his feet. I couldn’t help but feel there was something wrong with this picture.

  Scholars were supposed to be short and rotund, or skeletally thin men with ten years of facial hair scraping the tops of their toes. This couldn’t be the scholar.

  Theona stepped past me and smiled. “Jeren. It’s good to see you.”

  As he looked at her, a number of emotions fled across his face in rapid succession. First was joy, then puzzlement, then astonishment, then curiosity. I may have missed a few, before it finally returned to a sort of perplexed happiness.

  “Theona,” he said at last.

  She bowed. “At your service.” We would see about that.

  “I thought you were dead.”

  “Well, for once, you were wrong. By the way, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.”

  She turned toward me and gestured.

  “Hi,” I said.

  For the second time that minute, Jeren looked stunned. “But your vows!”

  I smiled. “You think we take them seriously? HA!”

  Theona shot me a reproachful look. “Stop it. Jeren, my friend is in disguise. Could we come in before we’re seen?”

  “Certainly.” He stepped aside and we entered. He closed and bolted the door behind us.

  “Now, what is it I can do for you? I assume this is not a social visit.”

  “You always were so smart.”

  I bristled at her compliment. She never spoke that way about me. Then again, I never gave her reason to.

  “Come, join me in my study.” He looked at me. “I still don’t know your name.”

  This state of affairs was fine by me.

  “Oh,” said Theona, “This is Alaric Swifthand. I know he may not look like much, but he is a warrior of no small skill.”

  I stood up tall and smiled my most imperious smile. I’ve since learned the expression makes me look rather foolish, but back then, it filled me with confidence.

  Jeren looked doubtful. “You’re sure about that?”

  My expression of pride became one of anger. I had never before considered the possibility anyone could be as annoying as Theona. Before I could reply, she leapt to my defense.

  “Well, now that you mention it….”

  I turned toward her. “What!”

  She grinned. Jeren grinned. I sputtered.

  “Listen to me, woman whom I have not yet forgiven for making me shave my head. I am here, because you dragged me here. I didn’t want to come to this city. I didn’t want to see Jeren….”

  “We wouldn’t be here, if you hadn’t slain Dendrac.”

  Jeren whistled. “Dendrac? As in Prince?”

  I glared. This was a fact I wasn’t particularly anxious to advertise. To my surprise, Jeren looked at me with new found respect. “Well, perhaps there is more to you than meets the eye.”

  I stood up taller.

  “There would have to be, I suppose.” Without another word, he turned and strode away.

  Theona followed without so much as glancing in my direction. I follo
wed, but more slowly.

  As I strolled leisurely through several lavishly furnished rooms, the Sword of Truth spoke to me. “Aren’t you glad I told you to come?”

  I glared down at it and whispered. “Sure. This is terrific fun.”

  The sword chuckled. “You’re right. You could have stayed back at the inn and let Theona come here alone.”

  I thought about it. I could almost picture the lovely Theona and handsome and intelligent Jeren, pouring over the mystical tome and together discovering its secrets. Indeed, what reason would she have had to return for me? I imagined myself sitting in that lonely room, day after day, waiting for her. I shook my head at the vision, then hurried to catch up to them.

  As long as Jeren was around, I wasn’t about to let Theona out of my sight.

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  Chapter Fourteen

  Jeren’s office was, like the man himself, immaculate. Standing there, I felt I somehow interfered with the order of the place or perhaps that was just an effect of being surrounded by so many books. I stood for a while looking at the strange symbols that meant nothing to me. For all I knew, they meant nothing at all and everyone was just pretending to understand them. I felt as if the symbols were mocking me. Nor, did it help that Jeren and Theona both shared the ability to read, while I lacked it.

  Off to the side was a writing desk and beside it a table of beakers. Each contained a different color liquid. I had first supposed them to be potions, but later found out they were wine. The walls were mostly bare with only an occasional candle bracket breaking the monotony. I couldn’t imagine why they were necessary, since the room was lit quite effectively by two oil bowls burning atop twin pillars.

  Theona leaned over the tome and conferred with her friend in a low voice. I gave up trying to figure out what they were talking about long before the first hour had passed. Jeren asked me if I wanted to be shown to the kitchens for a bite to eat. Normally I would have jumped at the offer, but the very idea of that rich, handsome sage alone in a room with Theona filled me with jealousy.