Sevenfold Sword: Unity

by Jonathan Moeller

  “It is never wise to underestimate anyone,” said Calliande. “I am surprised the Tumaks of the Takai have not allied with the gray elves against the muridachs. Surely you face a common foe.”

  Magatai snorted again. “The Tumaks would, but the gray elves are too haughty to accept aid.” He glanced back at Kyralion. “Friend Kyralion is the first gray elf Magatai has met who is not ruled by his own arrogance. The Takai and the gray elves marched with many other kindreds to overthrow the Sovereign in his own citadel. But since that victory, the gray elves have withdrawn and only leave the Illicaeryn Jungle to raid the muridachs.”

  “The plague curse, probably,” said Kalussa. Calliande felt a flicker of amusement. Even in her grim mood, Kalussa Pendragon still liked to have the last word. “The gray elves withdrew into the Illicaeryn Jungle after my uncle defeated the Sovereign. But now that Lord Kyralion has told of Qazaldhar’s plague curse, we know the reason why.”

  “Magatai does not know why the gray elves do not seek aid against the muridachs,” said Magatai. “The muridachs have many enemies.”

  “Pride can make men do strange things,” said Calliande. She looked at Kalussa. “Like blaming themselves for something that isn’t anyone’s fault.”

  Kalussa looked away, her face coloring a little.

  “You said you don’t like the wind?” said Tamlin.

  “It stinks of the muridachs,” said Magatai.

  “I cannot smell anything,” said Tamara.

  “That is because you are human,” said Magatai. “Humans have weak noses.”

  Krastikon snorted. “Do we, now?”

  “To be fair, so do the Takai, though we excel at all other things,” said Magatai. He patted Northwind’s neck, and the struthian let out an approving squawk. “But struthians, their noses are far keener than those of humans or halflings or elves. Or even whatever friend Third is. And Northwind does not like the smell of the wind from the mountains. It stinks of ratmen.”

  “Perhaps that is not surprising,” said Tamara. “The muridachs have been crawling all over the hills for the last year. The men of Kalimnos had to fight them many times.”

  “Magatai is right,” said Kyralion. “We may be in danger.”

  Calliande glanced back. Kyralion had come up in perfect silence. He was at least as stealthy as Third when he put his mind to it. He had the sharp, alien features of the elven kindreds, with golden eyes and pointed ears, and his skin was weathered and lined from years traveling under the harsh sun of Owyllain. Third followed him in silence, her face a calm mask.

  “Why is that?” said Calliande.

  “The muridachs have been sending more and more warbands against the Liberated as the plague curse worsened,” said Kyralion. “There are no entrances to the Deeps in the Takai steppes…”

  “There are multiple entrances to the Deeps in the steppes, friend Kyralion,” said Magatai.

  “True,” said Kyralion. “Rather, there are no entrances to the Deeps in the southern parts of the steppes, near the Illicaeryn Jungle, and the northern entrances to the Deeps are watched closely by the Takai. The Takai kill anyone emerging from those entrances. If the muridachs want to bring a large force to the surface, they have to do it in the foothills of the Gray Mountains. And if they want to march an army to the Illicaeryn Jungle, the most direct path from the foothills to the jungle is here.”

  Calliande frowned. “Right here?”

  Kyralion nodded. “This very valley, I believe.”

  Third frowned. “Perhaps we should change direction.”

  “Agreed. Wait a moment,” said Calliande. She grasped the hilt of the dagger at her belt, the dagger that Ridmark had given her all those years ago outside of Dun Licinia. That dagger had a link back to Ridmark, and Calliande used that link to cast a spell, pinpointing his exact location. He was only a half-mile to the west, and she thought that he was moving quickly. “Ridmark’s almost back. Let’s halt here and wait for him to catch up to us, and then we can decide what to do.”

  “Sir Calem!” called Krastikon, walking back toward the line of pack scutians that bore their supplies. The big, placid lizards had bony shields covering their necks and sharp beaks. They didn’t move all that fast, but they were strong and vigorous, and nothing seemed to bother them. Though when something did annoy the creatures, they could use their sharp beaks to make their displeasure known. “We’ll halt here for a moment. I’ll help you tend to the scutians.”

  Calem nodded, his expression unchanging. Calliande felt a pang for him. He had seemed dazed when she had suppressed the spell of dark magic that bound him into a brutal assassin, unsure of himself and uncertain of everything except combat. Then he had gotten to know Kalussa, and Calem had started to change, becoming something other than a killing machine.

  Perhaps Kalussa blamed herself for seducing him, but there had been many other things in her life. Calem had known nothing but violence and torment and killing until Ridmark had defeated him and Calliande had suppressed the spell that bound him, and it was possible that his short time courting Kalussa had been the happiest that Calem had ever been. Calliande wished she could have done more for him or for Kalussa, but she had heard High King Arandar say often enough that not even a king could order a man’s heart.

  That was true of the Keeper of Andomhaim as well.

  “If the muridachs are coming in force through this chain of valleys,” said Third, “we ought not to linger here.”

  “No,” said Calliande. “We should not. We’ll move as soon as Ridmark returns.”

  “Perhaps it would be better to return to Kalimnos and the Pass of Ruins and approach the Monastery of St. James from the west, rather than the south,” said Third. “If the gray elves and the Takai both are fighting the muridachs, we might walk into the war.”

  Calliande looked at Kyralion, unsure of how he would respond. The Augurs of his people had sent him to find the Shield Knight, the Keeper, and the woman of the blue fire, saying that only the woman of the blue fire could save the Liberated. Yet if Lord Amruthyr was right, the Augurs had lied to Kyralion, omitting the part that he had to play. It was hard to judge his emotions, but Calliande thought he felt betrayed.

  Perhaps he wanted to return to the Illicaeryn Jungle. Maybe he did not.

  “Agreed,” said Kyralion. “The Takai steppes were dangerous when I traveled through them a year ago, and they have become only more dangerous since.”

  “Magatai fears not to kill muridachs,” he announced. “Tens of thousands of them, though, might prove a challenge.”

  “Well,” said Tamara with a smile. “You would want it to be a fair fight, wouldn’t you?”

  Magatai barked a laugh at that and then fell silent.

  “Lord Ridmark comes,” he said.

  Calliande turned her head and saw her husband approaching at a jog from the far side of the valley and smiled.

  Her smile faded when she saw his grim expression.

  It seemed that he had already found the enemy.

  ###

  Tamlin could not recall ever feeling quite so uncertain of himself.

  Strangely, he did not mind the feeling at all.

  His life had been one of certainty for a long time. At first, as a child, he had been certain he would become a monk. Then he had devoted himself to escaping from Urd Maelwyn, then to avenging Tysia’s death at Khurazalin’s hands, and after his escape, to serving as an Arcanius and a Companion knight.

  Then he had learned that his mother still lived.

  And he had found Tysia again in the form of Tirdua in Trojas, and Khurazalin had killed her again.

  Then he had met Tamara in the Pass of Ruins…and Tamlin found it hard not to stare at her.

  Fortunately, she didn’t seem to mind. And she spent as much time staring at Tamlin.

  She was just like Tysia, and nothing at all like her. Tamara had Tysia’s gentle nature, her thoughtfulness, her same smile and sly sense of humor. Unlike Tysia, she was far more confident, even
brash at times. There was a wildness in her nature that Tamlin suspected she had learned from Magatai and the Takai nomads, and she was far more capable in battle than Tirdua had been. Calliande thought Tysia and Tirdua and Tamara and the four other shards had been pieces of the same woman split into different lives, and a woman raised in a palace would be quite different than one raised as a tavern keeper's daughter, even if her essential nature remained the same. Tamlin suspected he would have been a very different man if Justin had not destroyed the monastery, if he had followed his original plan and become a monk.

  Maybe it was just as well, despite all the losses and pain. Tamlin suspected he would not have made a good monk. He liked the company of women too much. Certainly, during his time in King Hektor’s service, he had experienced no difficulty in seducing female companions to his side, and that had been an enjoyable diversion.

  But none of them had been Tysia.

  In the end, they had only been distractions from the woman with the golden staff and the dusty coat standing next to him, and Tamlin found that he wanted her as much as he had ever wanted anything in his life.

  He had to keep her safe, no matter what the risk to himself. No matter what the cost.

  So, he cleared his mind for battle as Ridmark Arban jogged to join them.

  The Shield Knight of Andomhaim was a grim-looking man of about forty, with black hair turning gray at the temples and hard blue eyes. Ridmark looked dangerous, but appearances were sometimes deceptive. In Ridmark’s case, his appearance was deceptive because he was far more dangerous than he looked. The War of the Seven Swords had been stalemated for years between King Hektor, King Justin, the Confessor, and the Necromancer of Trojas, and in the space of a month, both King Justin and the Necromancer had been slain and their power broken. They had been defeated because they had challenged Ridmark and Calliande, and the Shield Knight and the Keeper had proven more than a match for their foes.

  Even in Kalimnos, when the dark spell of the Tower of Nightmares had crippled the minds of the town, Ridmark had faced two of the seven high priests of the Maledicti, and he had fought them to a draw.

  “Trouble?” said Calliande as Ridmark came to a stop.

  “Yes,” said Ridmark. From time to time, Ridmark complained that he was getting old, but Tamlin noted that the Shield Knight was not even breathing hard after his jog across the valley. “I saw the tracks from a vast army of muridachs, and I ran into four of their stragglers.”

  No need to ask what had happened to those stragglers.

  “How recently had they passed?” said Third.

  “Not long,” said Ridmark. “Perhaps this very day. I’m not sure how many there were. Thousands, most likely.”

  Magatai grunted. “A great host went to make war upon the gray elves.”

  “The Keeper and I think it might be best to return to Owyllain through the Pass of Ruins and approach the Monastery of St. James from that direction,” said Third.

  Ridmark hesitated and then nodded. “Yes. Yes, I think you’re right. We’ll lose two days heading back to Kalimnos, and at least another week and a half circling around the northern flank of the Gray Mountains. But I don’t see that we have any choice. If we run into a muridach army, we’ll put up a good fight, but we’ll get overwhelmed in the end. And if they catch us in the foothills, they might trap us in one of these valleys, or surround us if we’re atop a hill.” He let out a long breath. “No, better to backtrack and lose the extra days rather than to risk everything and get torn apart by the muridachs.”

  “The wise hunter does not pursue prey he cannot overcome, friend Ridmark,” proclaimed Magatai. “Such is the wisdom of the Takai.”

  Ridmark snorted. “And who am I to question the wisdom of the Takai?”

  “And if we return to Aenesium for supplies,” said Kalussa, “you’ll be able to see your sons again, Lady Calliande.”

  “Aye,” said Calliande. “Aye, I would like that.”

  Calem stiffened. Perhaps he feared King Hektor’s wrath for having seduced his daughter. Tamlin thought the strain between Kalussa and Calem ridiculous. Calem hadn’t forced her, Kalussa had plainly wanted him, and the two of them were making themselves miserable over nothing. While Kalussa was his friend, Tamlin had thought she would benefit immensely from experiencing the embrace of a man, and Calem clearly adored her.

  Well, perhaps Tamlin could talk some sense into her before they returned to Aenesium. Kalussa wanted a husband, and she could do far worse than Sir Calem. Maybe by then, the shock would have worn off, and Kalussa would be thinking clearly again. Tamlin knew the first time was often harder for a woman than for a man, though judging by the noises he remembered Kalussa making, it hadn’t been that difficult for her.

  He looked at Tamara and wondered what it would be like to kiss her, to experience other things. He wondered what it would be like to walk into his domus with her and to see Michael’s reaction. That would…

  A flicker of motion caught his eye, a golden-brown shape scrambling along the rocky slope of the valley.

  “Something is coming,” said Third, stepping to the side and drawing her swords.

  Tamlin turned just in time to see a hideous creature scramble to the top of a nearby hill, a muridach warrior crouched atop its back.

  Chapter 2: The Invasion

  Ridmark had fought muridachs more times than he had wished, but he had never seen a creature like the one atop the hill.

  It was as large as a wagon, its body a brownish-gold in color, its six legs braced against the earth, its antennae waving around its head. The creature looked like a giant cockroach, though Ridmark had never seen a cockroach with massive jagged pincers jutting from its head. A muridach warrior sat on the huge insect’s back, a bronze-tipped wooden lance in his right hand. His left hand held a pair of leather reins, and Ridmark saw that the reins were tied to a pair of spikes that had been driven into the creature’s head. The insect’s head jerked left and right, the antennae waving and the pincers clacking.

  “What the hell is that thing?” said Krastikon, drawing the Sword of Death.

  “Kalocrypt,” said Tamara and Magatai in unison.

  They looked at each other, and Tamara gestured for Magatai to continue.

  “The muridachs breed herds of them in the Deeps,” said Magatai, “and as the Takai ride upon our struthians to battle, so do the muridachs ride their foul kalocrypts to war.”

  “Cavalry, then,” said Ridmark. “And they must make for fearsome scouts.”

  “Aye,” said Magatai.

  “And they’ve seen us,” said Calliande.

  The muridach lancer raised a horn to his mouth and blew a long, ringing blast with the instrument. The echoes rang over the hills, and Ridmark heard a rustling, creaking noise.

  A dozen more kalocrypts and their muridach riders came into sight, and the giant insects raced down the hillside, their pincers clacking. The damned things could move as fast as a charging horse.

  “I don’t think they’re coming to greet us,” said Tamlin, drawing the Sword of Earth from its scabbard.

  “No,” said Ridmark, lifting Oathshield. “Get ready. Keep them away from Calliande, Kalussa, and Tamara so they can cast spells.”

  The kalocrypts rushed into the valley, and Ridmark drew on Oathshield for strength and speed.

  ###

  Tamara took a deep breath and then another, clearing her mind to work magic.

  The staff of Lord Amruthyr felt cool and heavy in her right hand. The strange golden metal of the gray elves looked smooth, but it felt as if it had been wrapped in rough leather, and Tamara had no trouble keeping her grip on the weapon. The staff augmented and enhanced any spell cast through it, and Tamara suspected that was going to prove useful in a few moments.

  She had fought kalocrypts before, and it never went well.

  “My lady,” said Tamara, holding her magic ready. “The spell to fold the earth will not hinder the kalocrypts.”

  Calliande nodded. “T
oo many legs for them to lose their balance, I expect. How do they fight?”

  “They’ll try to run right over us,” said Tamara, watching the line of kalocrypts charge towards them. “The pincers can bite a man in half, and the muridachs will spear us as they run past.”

  “All right,” said Calliande, grasping her staff in both hands. “We’ll have to deal with them one by one. Kalussa?”

  Kalussa Pendragon nodded and raised her dark staff, the crystal at the end shifting and writhing. Tamara had never met a king’s daughter before, at least that she could remember, so she wasn’t sure what to make of her. Kalussa had seemed so confident and sure of herself when she had come to Kalimnos, but now she seemed shaken.

  But her hand did not shake as she leveled the Staff of Blades, and her eyes narrowed with concentration.

  The crystal at the end of the Staff shivered and spat a fist-sphere of blue crystal. It hurtled across the valley and slammed into the head of the leading kalocrypt. There was a spray of green slime from the impact, and the creature went into a wild dance, throwing the muridach from its back. The huge insect shuddered once more and then curled into a ball.

  Calliande struck next, and Tamara felt the surge of power from the Keeper. She conjured a column of acidic mist about two feet wide and twelve tall, and one of the kalocrypts ran right into it. The muridach on the creature’s back screamed as it caught fire, and the kalocrypt went berserk with pain. The insect twisted and skittered away towards the hills, leaving the dying muridach to writhe upon the ground.

  Tamara cast her own spell, raising her left hand and hooking her fingers into a claw. She didn’t need the golden staff, not for this spell. A sphere of whirling mist appeared over her hand, and an effort of will sent it shooting across the valley. The sphere struck a muridach rider in the chest and exploded into a ragged cloud of acid, and the muridach fell from the back of its kalocrypt with a scream, the acid chewing into its flesh.