Knight of Strolm

by A L Hardy

  It did come as a surprise to Jurod that these men who were looking for him were being loud enough that they could likely be heard from any location within the building. Jurod jumped from his bed and pulled on his shirt, trousers and belt. He grabbed his boots next and sat on the bed to pull them on as the innkeepers voice rang over the crowd, “Not in my inn gentlemen. The one you’re looking for is upstairs, second door on the right.”

  Panic overwhelmed Jurod as he hastily grabbed his equipment and threw it into his pack with the quiver and bow sticking out awkwardly. He had no time to sort out his throwing knives and was feeling quite defenseless with only his sword at his belt. Thudding footsteps ascended the stairs as Jurod slung his cloak and pack around his shoulders and grabbed his bedroll. The door to his room shook as the men on the other side pounded loudly.

  “Come out pretty little half-blood!” Algeb barked.

  Jurod turned and opened the window. Algeb roared with rage at the sound from the other side of the door. The familiar sound of axe on wood filled the room; the door was already giving in. Jurod climbed out the window, thankful for the roof overhanging into the stable yard behind the building. Running across the roof, Jurod dropped lightly into the stable yard. Above him, he heard the door crash across the room. Jurod hid in the shadows while he adjusted his pack and bedroll on his back so that he could handle his sword. Pulling the blade as quietly as possible, Jurod moved along the side of the building and onto the north gate road; he immediately regretted not staying hidden.

  A dozen paces off to Jurod’s left, two large men stood just outside the inn with weapons drawn; more men were rushing out behind them. No more than a stone’s throw to Jurod’s right the odd cloaked man was coming toward Jurod at a full run.

  Jurod’s blade spun decisively as he shifted to strike the cloaked man. Two scimitars flashed into the cloaked man’s hands as he leapt easily over Jurod’s attack and brought his swords down onto two thugs. Jurod was taken aback by the speed and agility he showed as the cloaked man continued to strike at any thug that came within arm’s reach. Before Jurod could react, he had struck down two more thugs. Farther down the street, Jurod saw Xardan melting in and out of the shadows.

  One man fought his way around the cloaked man and rushed at Jurod. Jurod assessed the man as he came; he wore a heavy leather hauberk over his chest and an eye patch over his left eye. His right hand gripped a large battle-axe, and his left held a long sword.

  “You’re mine pretty half-blood!” The man howled into the night.

  Jurod immediately recognized the voice as the man named Algeb. Spinning his blade into a parry, Jurod caught Algeb’s axe as it swung for him. Algeb spun skillfully with the parry and brought the long sword around in another attack. Jurod met the long sword with a middle guard and pushed Algeb back. The thug caught himself quickly and brought his axe around again. Jurod moved faster than the thug and hit the axe twice, sending it clashing onto the street. Jurod spun his blade, his Lythrain speed allowing him to easily keep up with the slow Kin, and stopped his clumsy, left handed slash with an easy lower guard. Stepping into the bind, Jurod slammed his pommel into Algeb’s face.

  Algeb staggered back, blood streaming from his broken nose. Gripping his sword in both hands, Algeb swung with all his strength in a downward slash that Jurod met with a horizontal upper guard. The two swords clashed loudly and Jurod’s iron blade broke a few inches above the hilt. Without the expected resistance of Jurod’s guard, Algeb stumbled forward. Jurod brought his broken blade around and jammed the broken stub into Algeb’s abdomen, then spun around to avoid the falling thug.

  Down the street, the cloaked man swung his swords again and added a seventh corpse to his collection. Letting his right sword fall, the cloaked man reached into his hood, letting it fall back as he conjured a small glinting metal object. Spinning quickly, the cloaked man threw a dart into Algeb’s throat as the thug fell to the street.

  Only three people remained standing in the street. Xardan had changed since he left Jurod, and was now garbed in black chainmail and shadowy plated armor. He wore a large, spiked, black gauntlet on his left hand and a smaller leather glove on his right. Wiping his blade on the clothes of a fallen foe, Xardan stood and sheathed his blade before turning to the third person with a wide grin on his face.

  “You always were one to make a big entrance, Ilays!”

  Jurod stood speechless. The woman on the street before him was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the soft moonlight as she retrieved her fallen blade and slid both into their matching scabbards on her back; Jurod’s eyes lingered briefly on the silver falcon heads pommeling the blades before they moved on. Her silver hair shone brightly as it fell around her shoulders teasing Jurod’s eyes as it graced her sleeveless leather jerkin. Her arms bore dark leather vambraces and her legs bore matching leather boots and leggings that left her upper leg exposed. Her purple skirt had a slit up each leg to allow her maneuverability during combat, but Jurod only noticed the pale skin that was left exposed between her legging and her skirt.

  She walked calmly toward him, her form moving tantalizingly as she approached. Stopping at Algeb’s corpse, she rolled the large thug over and removed her dart from his throat. After wiping the blood on the thug’s clothes, she stood and pulled her hair tight onto the back of her head and stuck the dart in to hold the bun. With her hair pulled back, only her tall, Lythrain ears were able to pull Jurod’s eyes from the neckline of her jerkin.

  The Lythrain held Jurod’s eyes in the deep green of her own as she addressed the master Knight, “Thank you, Xardan.”

  Time stretched for Jurod as he stood admiring the shine in the Lythrain’s eyes. Finally Ilays pulled her gaze from Jurod and looked back at Xardan.

  “Justyn and Lewk left after they didn’t get what they needed here. We need to get moving if we’re going to catch them before they get to the King.”

  Free of Ilays’s gaze, Jurod felt awkward holding the stump of a broken blade. Hurriedly, he grabbed Algeb’s fallen long sword as the others continued talking. It was evenly weighted and crafted of fine steel; gold wire wrapped the hilt and cross guard. Looking over Algeb’s corpse, he noticed the thug didn’t have the accompanying scabbard.

  “I thought they intended to stay the night here.” Xardan stated.

  “They did.” Ilays confirmed, “Justyn even had two whores hired for the night. But then they left after Lewk couldn’t get the last ingredient he needs for the truth serum.”

  Jurod was poking around the corpses now as he looked for the matching scabbard, hoping Algeb had stolen the blade from a comrade. Without success, he began to try any scabbard that looked like it might house the blade comfortably. After several failed attempts, he found a worn, brown leather scabbard that was acceptable. After removing the old scabbard from his sword belt, he strapped the new one in its place and sheathed the blade proudly.

  “Truth serum?” Xardan asked, “Why would he need a truth serum?”

  ”He doesn’t know how to open Laglan’s spell book.” Ilays said, “He intends to brew a truth serum to get Father Nikolas to tell him how to open it.”

  “What will happen to Father Nikolas after they know how to open it?” Jurod asked.

  Ilays turned to face Jurod again as she answered his question, “Justyn is not known to keep captives alive any longer than absolutely necessary.”

  Chapter 4

  With their new intelligence, the Tyrns chose to worship the Red Owl, and the Betrayer could tolerate no such treachery. He brought Prim'yc and Neth'yc into contact with Khes'yc, creating magic and granting it to the Fey. This destroyed the Betrayer, but gave birth to the Great Dragons: Rylvia, Altavar, and Toug.

  *

  Jurod’s horse led the gallop out of the east gate and on through the night. Xardan had insisted that Jurod leave the monastery’s mare behind and saddled him a gray charger instead. Now the sun was peaking over the horizon and the three horses stood a
t a deep river. The bridge that normally served to cross the river had been burnt recently enough that the frame was still smoldering warmly in the morning air.

  “Is there a crossing nearby?” Jurod asked.

  “Not for at least a league in either direction.” Xardan replied, “And we really shouldn’t waste time deciding then. We go south.”

  “Wait,” Ilays said, “Allow me to save us some time.”

  Jurod noticed as Ilays dismounted that her eyes were completely glazed in a deep purple. She walked confidently up to the burnt bridge and placed her hand on a solid board. Smoke rose from each cinder as they extinguished individually from one bank to the other. After the cinders on the far bank extinguished, Ilays rose and mounted her black palfrey. It was a beautiful animal with a sleek black coat, only flawed by a single white ear. It wasn’t the war animal that Xardan’s was, but it easily outran either of the other two horses in their party as it broke into a run across what seemed like open air. Xardan’s warhorse followed close behind and Jurod hesitantly led his charger after them.

  Even with the other two horses crossing first, Jurod found he was scared as his charger placed its first hoof onto solid air. There wasn’t wood or stone there for the hoof to land on, but oddly the air was solid enough that the horse crossed easily. Once the horse’s last hoof was off the wood, Jurod spurred the animal across the expanse of open air. Jurod breathed a sigh of relief as the horses’ hooves thudded loudly on the earth of the far bank.

  Ilays turned to Xardan with a skeptical look on her face, “I thought you said he was raised at Ealthen’s monastery?”

  Xardan leaned on the pommel of his saddle with a wide grin directed at Jurod as he answered Ilays, “He was.” Xardan continued talking but neither of his companions paid attention. A small smile on Ilays’s face took the pain of humiliation off of Jurod’s embarrassment. Her irises retained the dark purple color that glazed her eyes earlier, but they still held the shine he had seen the night before.

  Jurod stumbled over his thoughts as he tried to speak, “I… I’ve never Focused before.”

  A small giggle escaped Ilays’s throat and landed musically on Jurod’s ears as she smiled humorously at him, “We’ll have to fix that.” Jurod noticed in the morning light that her dark leathers, scabbards, and blade hilts were a deep purple that matched her eyes.

  Xardan cleared his throat loudly and Jurod nearly jumped from his saddle.

  “Need I remind you both that Father Nikolas needs our help?”

  Ilays continued to smile as she turned her horse away from Jurod and began to lead the trio along the bank of the river; Xardan rode forward and stopped alongside Jurod.

  “Do I need to blindfold you every time you look at her?” Xardan asked sarcastically.

  Jurod lowered his eyes at Xardan’s criticism before the Knight cautioned him in an unexpectedly serious tone.

  “Just don’t fall in love too fast boy,” Xardan warned, “Or too hard.”

  Xardan rode forward before the Lythrain could ride around the bend and out of sight. Jurod silently reprimanded himself before he spurred his horse forward after the other two.

  The day was mostly uneventful afterward as the trio followed the road along the river until they turned away from each other. When the first river was on the western horizon behind them and another river was on the eastern horizon in front of them, Ilays turned her horse south off the road and reined in under the shadow of a steep hill.

  Camp was established quickly as each companion spread out their bedrolls and Ilays started cooking over a magical fire. Jurod had just sat down to relax when Xardan conjured his wooden sparring swords and threw one to Jurod. Jurod groaned as he rose and swung the blade up into a high guard. Xardan came fast and direct through Jurod’s guard and landed two blows to Jurod’s ribs before he caught the third strike with a middle guard. Jurod shifted directly into an attack that Xardan parried lazily before igniting into a new series of blows to Jurod’s ribs.

  Jurod spun away from the blows, but not before Xardan’s fifth attack landed hard on Jurod’s sword arm. Ignoring the burning pain, Jurod leapt right into a lunge at the master Knight. Xardan’s blade parried Jurod to the side and turned to strike Jurod’s throat. Jurod gasped for breath as Xardan’s boot forced him to the ground.

  “You’re attacking too much,” Xardan advised, “You have to learn to control yourself when you’re fighting.”

  Jurod glared up at Xardan as he rose and held a middle guard. Xardan moved forward again in a side slash at Jurod’s left side. Spinning around the attack, Jurod placed his attack at Xardan’s back. The two wooden blades clacked loudly as Xardan moved through a complex bind that started behind his back and ended with Jurod’s blade twisted awkwardly behind him and Xardan’s pointed a hairs breath from Jurod’s face.

  “Focus on your defense and hold back your attacks until you’re sure that you can land a blow.” Xardan continued, “It’s no use to strike if it is only going to be turned against you.”

  Xardan relaxed his blade and the two exchanged another set of blows. Xardan’s blade lunged, slashed, and twisted and Jurod was forced to employ his entire arsenal of blocks and parries to avoid another bruise. Jurod never saw an opportunity to strike, but Xardan never landed a blow either. The pair sparred until the sun had set and Ilays had conjured floating orbs of light to illuminate their arena.

  “Enough boys!” Ilays finally shouted over after Xardan’s blade was stopped just before hitting Jurod’s face, “Come eat before dinner gets cold!”

  Xardan led Jurod back to the fire and Ilays handed each a plate of some unrecognizable gruel. The two each started eating and Ilays sat across from Jurod.

  “So you have never Focused, Jurod?” Ilays asked.

  Jurod shook his head in response as he chewed his food.

  “Did you ever try?”

  “I think I came close with Father Nikolas once.” Jurod responded.

  “Show me.” Ilays commanded.

  Jurod set down his plate and lightly fingered the silver ring as the light in his mind began to grow. As the warm sensation settled over him, Jurod felt a strange presence enter his mind and draw the light through him. The warm sensation escalated until it was an overwhelming burn; Jurod’s entire body cried with the pain. Jurod felt the strange presence leave his mind and the pain of the burn increased tenfold. Jurod heard his scream of pain fill the air of their camp but couldn’t feel it leaving his mouth.

  And then the pain was gone. Jurod felt the burn extinguish and the light in his mind retreated into blackness. Opening his eyes slowly, Jurod found Xardan and Ilays standing over him sharing looks of obvious concern.

  “What… What was that?” Jurod stuttered.

  “That’s the reason why we don’t use magic for everything.” Ilays explained, “That is how it feels to Focus.”

  Jurod’s entire body ached with the residual pain as he groaned, “How does anyone concentrate enough to cast anything through that pain?”

  Xardan turned away from the pair and walked to the edge of the clearing, “I’ll take first watch while you teach, Ilays.”

  Ilays barely acknowledged the Knight as he walked away. Her eyes glazed purple as she started Focusing and answered Jurod’s question, “You can control the pain, with practice. But that is your lesson for another day. For now you have to learn to Focus on your own. Try again.”

  Jurod summoned the image of the ring into his mind and felt the warm sensation tickle his skin. When the light started growing, the strange presence entered his mind and pulled the light through again. The pain started rising and the strange presence left, leaving him alone in a searing inferno. His body arched and screamed in protest until the light retreated and the fire extinguished again.

  “I don’t understand…” Jurod sputtered, “How is it stopping?”

  “I’m letting you Focus as much as possible on your own, then I’m helping you finish. Once you’re Focusing I leave you alone for a moment befor
e I Guard you.”

  “If I remember correctly from the conversations Lewk and I had, guarding is blocking someone from their Focus correct?”

  “Correct. You’re going to need to learn how to push the magic away yourself, but for now, I’ll block it for you so you can concentrate on controlling the pain.”

  Jurod groaned in anticipation of the evening ahead and started the Focus on the ring. The light grew until Jurod felt like a thousand needles were spearing every inch of his body. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Jurod didn’t notice Ilays’s presence enter his mind and was completely taken aback when the pain multiplied upon her departure. Fire licked across Jurod’s body as he writhed in pain before Ilays’s Guard broke his Focus.

  With only a small moan of pain, Jurod immediately returned to Focus on the ring. The searing pain came of its own accord this time. Jurod lay writhing in pain, anxious for Ilays’s Guard to relieve him of his torment. Time lost its meaning to Jurod as the fire consumed him. It seemed to Jurod that every age of the earth could have passed before he tried to break his Focus, pushing the image of the ring from his mind.

  His mind emptied and quieted as the light retreated. His muscles were numb from the pain that had seared them. He slowly opened his eyes and saw Ilays standing over him.

  “Why didn’t you Guard me?” Jurod whispered weakly.

  “I couldn’t.” Ilays explained, “Your Focus was too strong. You just gave yourself a crash course on pushing the magic away.”

  Jurod pushed himself off the ground and retrieved his plate. He was having a hard time telling the difference between the stars that dotted the moonless sky and the stars shooting through is vision. Once he had enough bearing to do so, he took a bite of the gruel. As it turned out, the chill spring air had cooled Jurod’s food, which made it even less appetizing. Setting the plate aside, Jurod collapsed onto his bedroll as he addressed Ilays.

  “So if someone is Focusing strong enough, they can’t be Guarded?”