Confused and struggling to gulp polluted air, he looked up with bleary eyes to see his attacker standing over him with a bright-edged ax that gleamed despite the dust. Yet, even with the doom that grin of steel foretold, it was the executioner's face which seized the caravan master’s attention.
Burning copper eyes set in a face strong and proud glared at him. One side of the face was graven with scars.
“Ax-Wed?” he choked out as he tried to rise while he slipped and slid on more debris.
The ax rose to strike but the Thulian’s eyes narrowed and then widened in surprise.
“Vahrem?” she cried and her face knotted with confusion and concern. “What are you doing here?”
The merchant didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as he finally managed to find his feet and take a staggering step towards her. Some part of him refused to believe it could be true, convinced that any second now, he would realize he’d struck his head or he was looking at some other towering, warrior woman with a bright and terrifying ax in her hands.
Hands that he very much felt the urge to take and kiss, if he were honest.
“L-looking for you,” he stammered as he drove the distracting and intrusive thoughts back.
Ax-Wed smiled and something strange and potent flashed in her eyes as she looked at him. Vahrem wasn’t sure what it portended and when the look lingered, he felt a flutter of panic in his chest. Despite this, he couldn’t deny that he didn’t want her to stop.
“Make way!” a voice shouted from somewhere in the dust cloud. “Make way for the Prince of Jehadim!”
This was answered by a series of angry shouts and sounds of fighting somewhere ahead.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” he muttered and spat out a mouthful of dust before he turned to Ax-Wed again. “Come. I’m not sure what is going on—demonic wrath or civil war or who knows what else—but regardless, Jehadim seems like a less than ideal city to be in right now.”
She nodded and her gaze scanned the obfuscating whorls of dust for threats.
“I’m with you as long as the girl can come along.”
“Girl?” Vahrem asked, then realized that the small figure he’d grabbed was still standing behind the Thulian. The caravan master blinked away more offending dust and confirmed that the rag-wrapped creature was a girl child probably very close to Julo’s age.
“I’m Zoria,” she said with a stiff nod of her head as she gave him a sidelong stare. “Big and ax-happy’s with me.”
Ax-Wed snorted softly in the back of her throat but didn’t argue.
“Zoria, you are most welcome to come,” he said and bowed in return. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to ride with her.”
“Ride?” they asked in unison, which drew a chuckle from him before he led them off at a brisk pace.
Julo and Jalen had seen the bolt of lightning arc into the Gold Quarter from where their father had told them to wait at the thoroughfare, and it had taken all their wits and will to keep the two silver-coated mares from trampling them or running off in the wake of the tremendous boom that followed.
After the horses were quieted, they had listened anxiously to sounds of further chaos, stones cracking, men shouting, and great crashes from within the city’s grandest quarter. Neither of them had the first idea of what was going on in Jehadim but both could tell that things were unsettled in the worst possible way, After their encounter with the snatchers, neither of them had any desire for further disruption.
“Do you think it has something to do with the snatchers?” Jalen asked and stroked his mare’s mane nervously, which the trembling animal allowed reluctantly. “Like maybe they caught them and there’s some kind of execution going on in the Gold Quarter?”
Julo shook his head as he chewed his lip and watched the thick cloud rising from the area toward the moon overhead. Quietly he wondered if the cloud would be enough to blot out the moon and then realized that would mean he and Jalen would have to walk home in the dark.
“An execution by what? Lightning?” the older brother snapped with a ferocity meant for his fears, not his brother. To his good fortune, Jalen failed to notice as three figures jogged down the thoroughfare toward them.
“I think they’re here!” he exclaimed as he moved to lead his horse out to greet them.
“Wait, stupid!” Julo snapped and reached a hand out to snare the back of his brother’s shirt. “How do you know it’s them? Pap said it’d only be two.”
“Geroff me!” Jalen snarled and twisted futilely in his brother's grasp before he leveled a finger at the most conspicuous member of the advancing group. “When else did you see a lady that big, stupid?”
Julo let go of his brother and his knees went watery and his stomach began to romp about like a dancing bear at the sight of the towering warrior woman bounding toward them. He took hold of the horse's lead in both hands but his legs refused to move. He’d hoped beyond hope that this moment would come and had prayed to every god he’d ever heard of—even Master Kal’Struh’s odd Shepherd—but now that the moment was there, he didn’t know what to do. He supposed going out to present the horses as his father had instructed would have been fine but for some reason, his body seemed to have other ideas.
“Julo, come on,” his younger brother called over his shoulder. “Remember Pap said they were in a hurry.”
He took a deep breath and mastered the squirming in his guts as best he could as he moved forward with the horse in tow.
Vahrem, Ax-Wed, and a pretty girl around Julo’s age came to a slow, loping halt and took a moment to try to slow their panting breath.
Julo stared at Ax-Wed, convinced she was the most beautiful and frightening thing he’d ever seen in his life. He had known what he wanted to say to her when his Pap had told them why they would be minding horses along the thoroughfare that night but suddenly, his voice seemed to have deserted him.
Jalen, on the other hand, seemed to have no such predicament.
“Hey, big lady!” he shouted and waved a hand in eager greeting. “Thanks for keeping me from getting snatched.”
Ax-Wed, still panting heavily, found the energy to break into a smile.
“You’re welcome,” she said and when she turned her flashing eyes to Julo, she added, “You both are.”
His face burned from his cheeks to his nose and he held the lead for the horse out to the Thulian.
“I-I wanted to thank you t-too,” he began and tried to not forget the words he promised himself he’d say if he ever had the chance to see her again. “I’ve never met a woma—uh, I mean a lady, of such strength and bravery and…uh, b-beauty before, and I doubt I ever will. Thank you for being so wonderful and for saving me and Jalen.”
She took the lead from his shaking hands before she sank to one knee in front of him. Even like this, she was a little taller than him.
“You are most welcome,” she said softly and before he could respond, she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.
Jalen giggled and Julo felt he might burst into flames from embarrassment. At the same time, however, the spot on his brow tingled in a way he’d never known could feel so good.
“I saved your life,” she said as she rose and placed the girl with her on the mare’s back before she mounted. “And now you two save mine.”
He could take it no longer and stared at his feet as they scuffed the cobbles.
“Well done, boys, and thank you,” Vahrem said from the back of the mare he’d taken from Jalen. “Now get home as quickly as possible. There’ll be no more snatchers tonight, but Jehadim is still not safe and in fact, you should tell your father for me that I recommend he find a reason to travel for a few weeks.”
“Will do, Master Kal’Stru.” Jalen saluted with a serious scowl, which prompted the merchant to reach down and ruffle the lad's hair before he set off at a trot.
“Take care, boys,” Ax-Wed said with a wave. “May we meet again in better times.”
“Good luck, kids,” the girl
sitting with the warrior woman called. “Thanks for the horse.”
Both boys stood waving farewell as the mares bore their riders toward the gates of Jehadim, where their father had arranged for the gates to be opened for a short time to allow the riders to depart. They had heard Father say it was good money and given that it was Master Kal’Stru who was asking, he knew it was a good cause even before mention was made that he’d be helping the woman who’d saved his sons.
Now, those sons turned to head home and both hoped, if perhaps for different reasons, to see the riders again someday.
Epilogue
They’d ridden hard through the night and had crested a rough dune that overlooked the caravan’s camp as the sun was coming up.
None of them had spoken much during the ride, each of them bound in their thoughts concerning the travails they’d all endured during the last several days. Yet, when they saw the tents and fresh cooking fires below where their horses stood, it seemed the silence could no longer hold and Vahrem turned in the saddle and looked at Ax-Wed, his face earnest.
“I know so much has happened and most of it I won’t understand,” he began and guided his horse to walk directly beside hers. “But I want you to know that the offer to have you join the caravan still stands.”
She had no ready answer to that and Zoria looked expectantly at her.
“I understand if you want some time to think about it,” he added quickly when he saw her discomfited glance. “We are bound for Carnyxia first, by way of Mahliknet and the Girdle, so if you want to, you could come with us as far as that and then make your decision there. If you don’t want to take up with us, I’m sure there’s work for someone like you there.”
The Thulian nodded but continued to stare at him as they moved slowly along the brow of the dune. Vahrem began to say something else, thinking she wanted some other assurance, but thought better of it and waited quietly.
“Why?” Ax-Wed asked at last. “Why did you stay behind for me?”
The caravan master considered the question for a moment before he answered, his brows knitted pensively over a thoughtful stare toward his camp.
“You were part of my camp that night and I didn’t keep you safe,” he said at last. “I couldn’t leave you after what happened when you were under my protection.”
“In leadership, everything is your fault,” she quoted with a nod but he could see that she wasn’t entirely satisfied with the answer. Neither was he.
“Was there any other reason?” she asked, her voice softer than he’d ever heard it.
“Perhaps,” he said and turned away from her gaze at the last second lest she see something there he wasn’t ready for her to see. “Would you like there to be?”
“Perhaps,” she answered and turned to look at the camp.
The silence stretched between them again until Zoria could no longer bear it.
“You know what I would like?” she said, seemingly to no one in particular. “Breakfast. A hot breakfast from something that had at most four legs.”
Vahrem raised an eyebrow at the leg specifications but remained silent when he noticed Ax-Wed mouthing, “Don’t ask,” before she shuddered.
“I think breakfast is a fine start,” he said with a courteous bow to Zoira before his gaze drifted to meet the warrior woman’s. “What say you?”
She looked at the camp, then at him before she smiled and spurred her horse over the crest.
“I say let’s race!” she shouted over her shoulder and Zoria responded with a wild war cry.
Voice on the Wind
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Author Notes - Aaron Schneider
Written July 14, 2021
Dear Reader,
Thank you for coming with me on this new journey.
When Mike reached out to me and asked me if I wanted to do a sword and sorcery tale I was practically falling over myself to accept (which as a bigger guy wasn’t safe for anyone let me tell you). As you might have guessed from my acknowledgments, the likes of Conan, Kull, and Bran Mak Moran loom large in my youthful imaginings and the chance to create a series in such a line was the chance of a lifetime. Once I’d cleaned up the mess I’d made and thanked Mike for the opportunity, I immediately set to work.
You are now the recipients of that work and I hope you’ve enjoyed it. If you came here from Skharr then you might have been surprised and hopefully not unpleasantly so. While Mike has created a rollicking and rambunctious world of adventure in the West for the likes of Skharr and Cassandra and others, but the East… the East was mine.
And true to form (and much to Mike’s chagrin), I took Mick Jagger’s advice and painted it black. So you’ll find it quite a bit darker and grimmer and prone to the sort of fell wonders akin to what you might find in spider haunted Zamora or shadow-guarded Stygia. It’s a land of blood and intrigues, of secrets and sorceries. Ancient horrors lurking in the depths but it is perhaps men who seem the most capable of doing far worse.
Hither came Axe-Wed of Thule, blue-maned and fierce eyed… too much. Like I said, I really love this stuff, and it is my great hope that you will too, because I’ve got a lot more in store for you. Wind-blasted plains, frigid mountains, and enough monstrous foes than you can shake an axe at.
And if it’s not your horn of mead… well I guess Mike gets to say I told you so.
Regardless, I appreciate the time and chance you’ve taken on me and Axe-Wed.
Until next time dear ones,
Aaron D. Schneider
P.S.
Okay I’ve got a little more to say, and it comes from my heart (crooked thing that it is) and I hope it comes through loud and clear. It all starts with one word: Dissatisfaction.
That is the word I’d speak to you today. I would have you be dissatisfied with this book, indeed dissatisfied with every book. Hopefully not because you didn’t enjoy it, and if I may flatter myself, not because it isn’t a good book. I want you to be dissatisfied because I’d never want to see settled and satisfied with what this world has to offer, and yes I am including myself in there in case you are wondering.
Now, you may ask me how I, as a Christian, could exhort people to dissatisfaction, because doesn’t that Book I care so much tell me to be content?
Content; most certainly. Satisfied; never, at least not this side of the dirt.
Now in an age when everyone seems to want to redefine words and what they mean I’m not looking to add my voice to the throng, but I feel this is important. Contentment is to accept what comes without worry and resentment, but to be satisfied… well, that means to have all you could need, all you could want. I’d never wish that for you, because that is not what this world is for.
To quote my beloved Professor Lewis:
“Our Father refreshes us on the journey with some pleasant inns, but will not encourage us to mistake them for home.”
This world isn’t your home, hasn’t been for some time, and I beg you to never buy the lie that you must be satisfied with it. Yes, find the “inns” along the way, even build them as I hope this book of mine can be, but never, ever be satisfied with them.
You aren’t home here, and woe to you if you want it to be. He empties that He may fill, dry bones to living water, hearts of stone for hearts of flesh, but He won’t fill what is already satisfied in itself and the petty bits of rubble and straw we gather around ourselves.
Seek while He may be found dear one, for His dissatisfaction is a finer, higher, better thing than this world can offer (and yes I’m again including myself in all that).
But regardless, content or satisfied, empty or filled, I hope you will continue to walk with me as we follow Axe-Wed on her ashen road, looking ahead to a day when something good and green will grow.
Regards,
Aaron D. Schneider
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
Written July 14, 2021
When I conceived of Skharr DeathEater, I was excited to bring more stories than I could write into the Sword & Sorcery arena. In order to accomplish this goal, I reached out to Aaron to discuss a story about a new character living in the same world but nowhere near Skharr.
He’s a barbarian, she’s a royal outcast.
In this one Aaron wanted to write a story where his character was action, but with a pain filled past. A past that catches up with her and a future that she needs to carve out for herself.
Aaron’s prose is amazing. I love his writing and know that his talent far outshines my own. While I might suffer a bit of professional jealousy, what do I have to complain about?
My name is on the cover, too!
Aaron and I share a love of stories, but we somewhat differ on the tone of the stories that we enjoy.
My writing leans towards fun and frivolity, while Aaron tends to be a bit more somber and dark. Frankly, I think Aaron’s writing is closer to Robert E. Howard (the creator and author of the Conan™) stories than anything I can create.
(Those of you who have provided reviews on my Skharr DeathEater series and mentioned Conan, please do not go back and revise them. I love those comments!)
For those interested in the world’s story, think of the Skharr DeathEater series as the ‘far left’ (or Western United States) geographically and the Eastern United States where Axe-wed story is located.
However, the true history lesson comes from across the oceans (approximately near the Mediterranean area geographically.) Way over there something happened centuries ago which pushed the spread of magic and those wielding magic to move west.
Circle In The Deep (The Outcast Royal Book 1) Page 29