The Cavalier
Page 22
Dagrinal continued to enrage the bleeding giant he was fighting. The beast bled from dozens of wounds, none of them critical, but they were slowly sapping the strength from the behemoth.
Jorm, covered in the giant’s blood, turned to see the last giant climb up onto the rock ledge. Beorth, dazed from the thrown club, was slowly struggling to get up.
Jonas looked on as the hairy beast reached out with its gnarly hand, grabbing Beorth by the head. The man screamed as he was lifted into the air.
“No!” yelled Jonas, as he and Jorm bolted towards the giant with swords leading the way. The giant swung the screaming man at the charging humans. Beorth’s legs struck Jorm and Jonas solidly, sending them flying backward onto the hard rock. Jonas and Jorm looked on as the giant grabbed Beorth’s legs, his other hand still holding his head, and pulled with all his might.
Jonas tried to stop the giant’s movement, just as he had the club, but as he concentrated on the beast, his head exploded with pain, causing him to pitch over. He reached up, grabbing his throbbing skull, agony lancing through his head.
Beorth’s head ripped off like he was just a rag doll. Blood spewed from the headless body as it dangled in the roaring beast’s hands. The giant dropped the head to the rocks below flinging the lifeless body into the mountain pool.
Jonas struggled to get up and grab his sword, shaking away the painful pounding in his head. Jorm leaped up in anger just as a score of arrows mysteriously flew from the woods slamming into the giant. They both looked around, wondering where the arrows were coming from. The giant stumbled around on the rock; many arrows embedded in its flesh. Finally the sheer number of arrows ended the beast’s life, causing it to fall and topple off the rock ledge into the water.
The same fate awaited the remaining giants fighting Baylin and Dagrinal. Black shafted arrows peppered the monsters until they looked like pin cushions. They, too, stumbled around before finally succumbing to the massive amount of arrows and falling dead to the ground. None of the deadly arrows struck the tired warriors.
Dagrinal, Graggis, and Baylin slowly retreated backward towards Jorm and Jonas.
“What is happening?” asked Dagrinal, his crimson stained sword held before him. They were scanning the wood line before them, bloody and tired, but holding their weapons with determination.
“I don’t know, but if they wanted us dead then we would be. Lower your weapons,” ordered Prince Baylin.
After several seconds of waiting, a lone cloaked figure emerged from the trees. He wore a long green hunter’s cloak and his face was hooded in secrecy. He carried a long black bow in his right hand and a quiver of arrows was lashed to his back. “Who are you?” the man said in a commanding voice.
Prince Baylin stepped forward speaking with authority. “I am Prince Baylin of Finarth. These are my knights, along with a young knight apprentice.”
“You are a long way from home, Prince Baylin. What brings you here?” asked the bowman bluntly.
The prince gritted his teeth, not accustomed to such forward questioning, and took a deep breath. This man had saved their lives, and Finarth had no dominion over land this far into the Tundrens. “I am on the king’s errand, in search of a man. His name is Kiln. I have given you my name; it is customary to now give yours.”
The man slowly brought his hand up lifting off his hood. The warrior’s black hair was peppered with gray; his eyes were shadows and cold and his face looked as if it was chiseled from stone, with skin that was tanned and weathered.
As if on cue, eight more men silently emerged from the forest like wraiths. The sun was just beginning to set and the tree’s shadows covered the cloaked men.
“I am Kiln.”
***
It was hard for Jonas, watching Jorm grieve for his dead brother, seeing the pain that Piap was in, his leg crushed by the giant’s rock, and watching Sal grimace every time he moved. Again he felt like he was to blame. These men were here because of him.
Jonas’s head ached, a dull throbbing pain deep in his brain. Why was he able to stop that log and why did it cause such severe headaches? More questions that nagged at Jonas.
The newcomers helped bury Nogris and Beorth before the sun set and the darkness of night made it impossible to see. They dressed each other’s wounds next to a large warm fire built with the very clubs that caused so much destruction. Sal, Baylin, Jonas, Graggis, Dagrinal, and Jorm sat on one side facing Kiln and his eight woodsmen. They were all lean fighting men, most middle aged and several peaking even that.
After a quick meal of venison, cheese and water, Prince Baylin procured the letter that his father had written for Kiln.
“I thank you and your men for coming to our aid. How did you know we were here?” asked the prince.
“We did not. The giants have been getting bold and they have been raiding my cattle for food. We have been tracking them for several days and they led us to you,” answered Kiln, his voice low but resonant with authority.
“I see.” Baylin got up, handing the sealed parchment to Kiln. “Kiln, this letter was written by my father and given to me for safe keeping until I could find you. Now that I have found you, it is yours. It will explain our presence and our purpose.”
Kiln glanced at him curiously before breaking the wax seal and unrolling the parchment. The two groups of men glanced at each other across the fire as Kiln read the letter. Finally, after many minutes, Kiln lowered the parchment directing his cold gray eyes toward the prince. “Have you read this letter?”
“No, I do not know its content. My father said that it was for your eyes only.”
“I see.” Kiln directed his hard gaze at Jonas. “Let me see the mark.”
Jonas looked at the prince for affirmation. Prince Baylin nodded his head and Jonas lifted off his tunic and chain mail shirt exposing his bare chest. Jonas stood so that the mark could be clearly seen. Kiln and his woodsmen leaned in close staring at the extraordinary mark. Even in the darkness Jonas could clearly see their eyes sparkle with interest as they gazed at Jonas’s chest.
“You may put your shirt back on,” Kiln said, rolling up the parchment he had just read. “Son, I would like to hear your story. Would you mind repeating it to me and my men?”
“No, sir, I don’t mind.” And so Jonas began his long tale again. He kept it short and to the point, but he didn’t leave anything out. There was something in this man that required honesty and truth. He felt that Kiln would recognize a lie no matter how subtle. The story went on for many minutes before Jonas got to the part about their journey into the Tundrens to look for Kiln. “That is it, sir. That is what happened to me.”
“You’ve had it hard and I’m sorry for that, but it seems that you have been given a gift, no one can deny that. The king has asked that you stay with me for a year. Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know, sir. I don’t know you or your men. But the king is a good man and if he trusts you then I must as well. You are all putting your lives in danger for my sake and for that I am grateful. I will not be a burden, of that you can be sure,” answered Jonas honestly.
Kiln smiled at Jonas. “That is a good answer and one that shows honesty. You obviously understand that if I take you, that I put my men and myself in danger. That demon that attacked you will probably be looking for you again.”
“Yes, sir, I do understand. I will face my destiny alone if need be, but if people are willing to help then I will accept their generosity with my own sweat and blood as payment,” replied Jonas.
“Well spoken, and with courage, the latter of which you do not lack or the king would never have sent you here. Prince Baylin,” Kiln said, turning his attention to the prince, “do you wish to know the true story of what happened between your father and me?” asked Kiln.
“I do…sir,” replied the prince.
“Very well. Many years ago your father and I were knight apprentices together. We became good friends, the best, and when he became king he brought me up throu
gh the ranks quickly. I was the best commander in Finarth and when I was thirty years old he appointed me high commander of all the armies of Finarth.” Kiln paused slightly and then added. “What do you know of your mother?”
The question startled the prince momentarily. “She was a commoner, the daughter of a metal smith. My father met her in his twenties and married her a few years later. She bore him two sons, me and my brother, Prince Nelstrom. She died when I was six giving birth to my brother. I do not remember much of her.”
“Yes, that is mostly true. What you do not know is that I loved your mother with all my heart. I was going to marry her, but your father met her through me and fell in love with her as I did. This all happened after I was appointed general,” added Kiln, deep in thought as the memories came back to him.
“I do not believe it!” stormed Baylin, standing up defiantly.
“Sit down, Prince,” said Kiln coldly, his stern eyes penetrating Baylin’s fury.
The prince hesitated, and then obeyed, sitting back down.
“It is true,” Kiln continued. “Your father used his position to take her away from me. I could do nothing. I tried to uphold the oath I took to him and Finarth, but it was impossible. I could face anything in battle, but watching Cassandra with the king ripped my heart from my body every day. Then you were born and that caused more pain than I thought was imaginable. Cassandra and I still loved each other, but we tried to create distance between us so we could honor our oaths given to your father. But we couldn’t do it. One night, a great and terrible night, we came together in passion.”
“I cannot listen to this!” bellowed the prince, his anger taking over again.
“But you must. Your father asked it in this letter. He wants you to know the truth,” Kiln insisted. Jonas watched the prince pace back and forth before finally sitting back down on the log. “After dishonoring my position and my king, I left Finarth forever. I knew that I could never stay, that I could not control my love for her, nor hers for me. I broke my oath, and I will never forgive my weakness, but I believe that your father, my friend, broke his oath to me, the oath of friendship. He took the woman I loved, when he knew that she loved me more.” Kiln lifted the rolled parchment. “And I’m glad to finally hear the good king apologize to me, to recognize the wrong he did.”
Baylin looked directly at Kiln. “He said that in the letter?”
“He did. There is one other thing, Prince,” Kiln added.
“What is that?” Prince Baylin asked.
Kiln looked directly at the distraught prince. “Your brother, Prince Nelstrom, is my son.”
This time the prince didn’t get angry or emotional, he just sat staring at Kiln. “My brother is not my father’s son?”
“No, he was conceived the night I was with your mother. I did not know this until now.”
Jonas listened intently, things becoming apparent now. In his mind’s eye he pictured Prince Nelstrom, realizing how similar he looked to Kiln. The jet-black hair, the cold eyes and rock like features.
“I see,” replied the prince.
“It is my recommendation, and the king’s that no one need know about this. It would do nothing but cause scandal. Do you agree?” asked Kiln.
Baylin was looking into the fire deep in thought. Finally he directed his gaze toward Kiln. “I do. I would like an oath from everyone here that no word of this will be spoken,” Baylin commanded, addressing his men.
“Yes, sir,” replied Sal.
“You have my oath, sir,” stated Graggis.
“And mine,” put in Dagirinal.
“You have my word, my Prince,” stated Jorm with a nod.
“I will not say anything, sir,” added Jonas.
“Good. Now let us get to business. Will you take Jonas for the year as well as two of my men?” asked Prince Baylin.
“I must ask my men their opinion, Prince. I hold no dominion over them. Allowing the boy to stay will very likely put them in danger, which I will not do unless they agree to it.”
“I understand. Let us camp separately. You can discuss it with them and give me your decision in the morning.”
Kiln stood, as did his men, “Until the morning, then.” The men silently disappeared into the night making camp on the other side of the pool.
It wasn’t long before a fire could be seen glowing brightly on the other side of the water. Finally Jorm looked directly at Jonas asking him the question that had been nagging him ever since the fight.
“Jonas,” Jorm said, “I owe you my life and I thank you for that.” Jonas looked at him a little uncomfortably, knowing where this was going. “But, I don’t understand how you did it. How did you stop that log from crushing me?”
Jonas looked around unsure of how to answer the question. The others were looking at him as well.
“What do you mean, Jorm? Jonas, what happened?” Dagrinal asked.
“I’m not sure. One of the giants was going to crush Jorm with its club. I couldn’t do anything to stop him so I just screamed and willed the club to stop. And it did.”
“The club stopped in midair?” asked Graggis incredulously.
“It did,” Jorm added. “I thought I would be killed. Then the club just froze. And you should’ve seen the giant’s face. He didn’t know what was going on. Then the club flew back and smashed him in the face several times giving me enough time to get up and cut its throat.”
“How did that happen, Jonas?” asked Dagrinal.
“I don’t know. I saw Jorm about to die and something broke free within me. I felt it in my mind. I just willed the club to fly back and hit him in the face. I visualized it happening and it did. Everything in my vision blurred briefly, but I could still make out the scene, each shape was a different color and everything felt connected. It was just a flash as I willed the club to stop, then it went away and my head pounded with pain. I’m not sure why it happened.”
“I do.” Everyone looked at Prince Baylin who was staring into the fire. Finally he turned his dark eyes on Jonas. “You’re a cognivant.”
“What! You think so, sir?” asked Graggis.
“What is a cognivant?” asked Jonas.
“A cognivant is someone who can use their mind to do certain things. Each cognivant has different powers, some can levitate, control objects with their thoughts, or even read people’s minds. They are extremely rare, even more rare than wizards,” added the prince. “The elves call cognivants, IshMians. Not much is known about cognivants, but the elves believe that IshMians can access the Ru’Ach with their minds. They do not need words of power as a wizard does. We know very little about cognivant gifts, but their powers are usually limited to the skills that I mentioned. A cognivant’s power is known to surface around adolescence or times of severe distress, which would explain why it has surfaced for Jonas on both accounts.”
“Is that why my head hurts so much?” Jonas asked.
“I don’t know. I have never actually met a cognivant, but it makes sense that if your mind is the tool that accesses the power, that it may cause headaches, especially if the power has just surfaced and you have no practice with it. Maybe, as you learn to master this power, the headaches will go away, or lessen at least.”
“It seems you are gaining some powerful tools to battle that which threatens you,” added Graggis.
“Jonas, since we are talking about power, have you ever tried to heal anyone?” asked Sal.
“No, I wouldn’t know what to do.”
“I think maybe you should try to heal Piap. He will not make the trip as he is I’m afraid. What do you think, my Prince?” asked Sal.
“I was thinking the same thing,” said the prince softly as they all looked at the bundled form of Piap.
He was wrapped tightly in blankets and his face was pale and sweating. The pain from his crushed leg had caused him to pass out and he was still unconscious.
“Jonas, I think you should try it. Piap will surely die if nothing is done,” stated the pr
ince.
“I will do as you ask, my Prince. But I do not know what to do, or how to do it.”
“I have seen priests heal, and I even saw a cavalier heal once. They lay their hands on the injured and pray. I’m not sure what they said or did, but the wounds mended,” the prince said as he rose and approached Piap. He slowly un-wrapped the blanket from the dying warrior who moaned with pain as his body moved.
Jonas moved over to Piap looking down at the damaged leg. His entire knee and most of his thigh was smashed. It looked like someone had dropped a large rock on a giant tomato. The wound was horrible and Jonas knew that Piap would die if he didn’t at least try.
Jonas knelt by the man putting both his hands on his leg. Piap groaned with pain as he lay unconscious. Jonas began to pray to Shyann. He didn’t know what to say so he just asked for her power to save this man who had fought with so much courage.
Instantly, in his mind’s eye, he saw the interior of the damaged leg. The vision rose so quickly that he nearly released his grip. He could see shattered bone, ripped flesh, and torn tendons and blood vessels. He concentrated on putting the bones back together. He could feel his body grow warm as magic flowed into Piap’s leg. Jonas was ecstatic as he felt Piap’s bones begin to mend. He kept praying and sending Shyann’s power into Piap, visualizing the ripped and torn flesh healing itself. He didn’t know how long he prayed, but his body and mind began to tire and finally he released Shyann’s energy and fell over, nearly fainting. Graggis caught the young man as his eyes slowly fluttered open.
“Did it work?” asked Jonas in a whisper, his strength all but drained.
“It did. You’ve been praying for a long while. I think you need some sleep.” Graggis gently laid him down on the ground by the fire. Dagrinal brought him his bedroll, putting it under Jonas’s head.
“You did well, now get some sleep,” added Dagrinal with a smile. Exhausted, Jonas closed his eyes and sleep overcame him immediately.
***
Jonas’s dream came quickly that night. He found himself lying on the ground under a massive oak tree. The tree’s trunk was as wide as two men and its huge thick limbs reached towards the clouds majestically. Jonas slowly got up, looking around. The forest was thick and beautiful and smelt of summer. Sunlight shone through the dense tree limbs sending fingers of light to warm the luscious mat of moss and leaves that covered the ground. Little brown birds chirped and fluttered from branch to branch looking for food.