Knight of Strolm

by A L Hardy

  Ilays spun to parry a blow that wasn't there, and realized that there were no longer any shadows around her. By the pool, Malenmar gasped with exhaustion while trying to drink deeply from the clear water. Ilays lowered her swords and walked to the pool, dipping her goblet and drinking deeply herself. The two sat in silence, drinking and catching their breath, until finally Ilays looked to Owl and asked, "How many?"

  "A full dozen." the Owl reported, "He's been practicing for weeks to be able to control that many, and he wasn't ready; he nearly passed out from the exertion of splitting his Focus so many times."

  Ilays only understood what the Owl was saying because of Malenmar's teaching. The Lythrain Red Mages practiced holding multiple Shields while casting their Evocations, but they all accepted that you had to cast the Shields individually, then hold them while you cast the next spell. Only Malenmar, and Ilays through his teaching, could simultaneously cast two spells at once. However, despite the advantages, the physical exertion required was demanding. Ilays grew weary attempting three spells at once, and passed out the one time she had tried four; Malenmar however regularly cast 6 or 7 spells at once - and now had proved he could cast as many as 12.

  "I am tired," Malenmar finally said, the fatigue heavy in his voice, "I am going to retire for the evening."

  Ilays helped Malenmar to his feet, and carefully walked with him into the antechamber and laid him in his bed. After ensuring that he was comfortable, Ilays withdrew and retrieved her bow and quiver.

  "Owl," she asked, "It's still early and I'd like to practice with the bow. Would you mind conjuring targets for me?"

  When she had discovered that Owl could wield magic, she was astonished; now it was something that she almost took for granted. He didn't have the power that Malenmar had or even as much as Ilays, by Lythrain standards he was so weak that he likely wouldn't have been able to graduate the academy; but he knew everything about magic.

  Ilays slung her quiver over her shoulder and knocked an arrow to her bowstring. As always when she used her bow she thought about her brother. Ramier had gotten himself stationed at Reth to reduce the chance of any interaction required with Romieth, so Ilays only got to see him on rare occasions. Now, with Xardan Ta'Caran attacking, he was on the front lines attempting to slow the relentless, inevitable march of Faelhart's army.

  One by one, Owl summoned targets and Ilays fluidly fired arrows into them. Focused on shooting and distracted by worries over her brother and the returning frustrations it brought that she was not allowed to enlist, she almost didn't believe what she heard; Ramier's voice.

  "Ilays, I'm in trouble."

  Ilays whipped around, expecting to see her brother with a panicked look on his face. Instead, she saw a small white bird sitting delicately on a leaf; a Messenger from Ramier.

  "My squad was captured by the Knight of the Black Era," the bird said in Ramier's voice, "He hasn't killed us yet, but it's only a matter of time. I'm sending this to you to say goodbye. Please don't get yourself involved in this mess Ilays. I know you've been working on your combat skills, but nobody is a match for Xardan Ta'Caran. He's essentially defeated the army of Reth by himself, and he brought an army with him! Get yourself away from the Lythrain and away from this fight. Training with you was the best times of my life, but the military is no place for someone as special as you. I love you Ilays."

  Upon completing the message, the delicate bird seemed to disintegrate into nothing. From behind her, Ilays heard Owl say "I've been helping you train for quite a while girl, and I've heard rumors of this Xardan Ta'Caran. You should take your brother's advice."

  "No."

  A plan was already forming in her head on how she might be able to find and rescue her brother. Ilays knew that Xardan Ta'Caran was a Shadow Knight. Light was the best way to best him, and she had learned a great deal of light magic from Malenmar as distraction spells. It was time to expand on those spells.

  "Owl, no more target practice please. Instead, I want you to teach me as many spells as you can that create light in any way. I'm done hiding and training in secret."

  *

  Hooves thundered on the road between Ebenhart and Strolm as Jurod chased Ilays and Xardan toward the towering capitol of the ceaselessly warring nation. After their encounter at the gates of Ebenhart and the countless bands of rogues, thieves and thugs that they encountered along the road, Jurod expected a raging battle at the gate of Strolm; that wasn’t the case.

  Strolm was easily the largest city Jurod had ever seen. The keep was located at the top of a gentle rise with a sheer drop behind it; the front of the keep faced the gate they now approached; its towers soaring into the sky. The elegant keep was in no threat of being attacked from behind.

  The gates towered over the landscape around them with crossbowmen atop the connecting walls; their aim leveled at the trio as they approached. Four guards stood inside the gate, leaning against the walls as the three approached. The tabards they wore were a deep, navy blue bearing the golden image of a wolf’s head.

  “Templars of Strolm,” Ilays told Jurod, “The theoretically ruling clan of Strolm, though they really only hold the keep and the main roads.”

  Xardan addressed the men for but a moment while Ilays and Jurod caught up. By the time they had gotten close enough to hear what was being said, Xardan had already passed through and the guards were waving the pair past them.

  They slowed to a walk within the city limits and Jurod gave his best effort to stay alongside Ilays on the crowded streets. He had no idea where they were headed, and the look Ilays carried said that she didn’t either. Xardan however rode directly to the area of the largest houses in the city with the calm confidence of someone who had spent years living within the city limits. As they rode Jurod took note of the mounted patrols bearing the Templars’ tabards and the small battles raging in the dark alleyways.

  The manor that Xardan led them to wasn’t the largest or most elaborate on the street, but it was impressive; butlers and servants rushed out to meet them as they entered the manor’s courtyard. Xardan quickly dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to the nearest servant.

  “Master Ta’Caran!” one of the butlers exclaimed, “We weren’t expecting you!”

  “I wasn’t expecting me being here either,” Xardan responded, “Apparently we were all surprised. How are my affairs?”

  “Better than they’ve ever been. Your father’s business is still booming, your servants are well paid, and your wealth is ever increasing,” replied the man with a broad grin.

  “Ah. I have yet to regret putting you in charge my old friend. I don’t have much time, but I would like to give a quick introduction. Ilays, Jurod, this is Malcose; my right hand man and Master of Servants. Malcose, I’d like you to meet Jurod and Ilays; my travelling companions.”

  Jurod numbly dismounted and mumbled a greeting as a servant took his reins. He looked to Ilays for information as she did the same; she looked back with what Jurod was sure mirrored the confusion showing on his face. The two followed Xardan into the main chamber where Xardan directed Malcose to take them to their rooms. He immediately spoke a few quick words to the walls and several servants emerged from doorways around the room to do his bidding.

  As impressive as was the manor’s exterior, the manor’s interior was more so. Elaborate drapes and murals covered the interior walls. Many of these were used as passageways for the servants and Jurod was quickly learning as a few of them disappeared behind a mural and a few more through the drapes. He wondered if Kin eyes would notice with how quickly and efficiently they did it. As it was, his half Lythrain eyes only barely noticed. Jurod continued to admire the decorations of the manor and the efficiency of its staff as the servants led him and Ilays up to the fourth level and showed them adjacent doors.

  “If you need anything, please ask any servant.” The servant said, “There will be one assigned to each of you for the duration of your stay, as per Master Ta’Caran’s orders.”

&nbs
p; “Can you have a bath of hot water drawn for me?” Ilays asked.

  The servant nodded and bowed deeply, “of course m’ Lady.”

  Ilays turned to Jurod as the servant scurried off, “I will be in before dinner to practice your magic.”

  Silence enveloped Jurod’s room when he entered and Jurod felt odd disturbing the peace that had obviously rested in the room for years. He quickly moved around the room shedding weapons, bags, and clothes. He was sprawled on the bed in only his small clothes when the servant door opened and Jurod heard light footsteps behind him.

  “Draw a bath for me please?” Jurod asked before the servant could address him.

  “Right away sir.” The servant replied.

  Jurod continued to lay sprawled in silence as the servants brought in the tub and hot water. When they announced they had finished, Jurod removed his small clothes and slid into the tub. He washed quickly then soaked in the hot water, letting the warmth ease the pain in his muscles from Xardan and Ilays’s training.

  Jurod’s water had cooled when he climbed out of the tub and toweled himself dry. He opened his bags and pulled on his extra trousers and shirt. He set his travel worn clothes aside for the servants to take and clean and was about to pull his boots on when a knock on his door announced Ilays’s arrival.

  She was formally clad, in an elegant dress of bright red with an enormous ruby on a gold necklace. Her silver hair was brushed behind her tall Lythrain ears before it cascaded down around her shoulders and back.

  Jurod had grown accustomed to Ilays’s beauty as they traveled, but washing off the grime of the road and donning a formal gown had completely transformed her. He would have been rendered speechless were it not for the burning question in his mind. Thankfully, the question spilled out before his tongue got stuck in his throat.

  “How does your hair seem to change so easily?” Jurod asked, “It only brushed your shoulders this morning and now it graces the small of your back…”

  “Lythrain learn early in their lives to alter small physical attributes, most mages do. I can teach you once you can hold a Focus well enough to learn to cast a spell. It’s actually one of the easier spells to do and might be a good exercise for you.” Ilays explained, “Meanwhile, Xardan has asked that we join him for dinner immediately; in the small dining hall. We have no time to practice your magic as I had promised.”

  Jurod looked up at Ilays when he replied, “A very formal invitation for someone that has traveled, fought, and hunted with us these past few days.”

  “Yes,” Ilays continued, “which I’m sure he’ll want to discuss with us. I have instructed the servants to bring us a suit that will fit someone of your build.”

  As they waited for the servants, Ilays walked around Jurod and instructed him to remove his informal trousers and shirt. Jurod sensed her Focus through the ruby in her necklace and saw her spells begin to flash over him. Small flaws in his skin vanished before his eyes, and what was left of the layer of fat he had acquired over the years simply melted away.

  Jurod’s tangled hair straightened itself and the stubble of a beard that he grew between months of shaving simply fell to the floor. Jurod felt cleaner when she released her Focus and far better than he ever remembered feeling in his life. As Ilays looked him over one last time, there was a knock on the door.

  Several servants entered with small piles of shirts and pants and dozens of various coats.

  “We did what we could without knowing his exact build,” one servant explained. “Master Malcose instructed us to bring a few formal weapons as well. He and Master Ta’Caran made it quite clear that none are quite safe this evening; even considering the extensive defenses within these walls.”

  After a nervous look shared between them, he and Ilays thanked and dismissed the servants and immediately began sorting through the shirts. Ilays threw several options at him and he decided on a gray shirt embroidered in ornate patterns with gray thread before Ilays turned and had him change into a simple, plain white shirt.

  She then began sorting through the pants next, but only one pair of black pants embroidered with gold flames actually fit his height and waist. He pulled on a pair of boots that matched his pants as Ilays started sorting through the coats.

  After trying several options of green and red, Jurod and Ilays finally decided on a dark blue coat embroidered with light blue flames. While Jurod donned the pants, Ilays started sorting through the package of weapons brought by the servants. She quickly procured a pair of short daggers and a belt that were a deep blue color that matched the flames on his coat.

  “That way you won’t have to know the proper way to remove them when we get to the dining room. I don’t know if we’ll be alone, and the last thing we need is you offending any dignitaries who might be there. I also figure those are a good weight for you to throw them if the need arises.”

  “They’ll do in a pinch. I’m guessing I don’t have time to grab mine and conceal them?” Jurod asked hopefully.

  “Unfortunately not.”

  Jurod was somewhat confused by the sudden formality as Ilays ushered him out of his room. They followed a servant that took them to a small dining room where Xardan sat at the head of a table laden with food. Xardan wore a long black coat trimmed in gold embroidery with his blade thrown over the back of his chair.

  “Sit.” Xardan instructed, “We have business to discuss.”

  “What’s going on Xardan?” Jurod demanded, “Why all this formality?”

  Xardan looked at Jurod with a stern gaze that silenced the half-breed. Xardan said nothing until Jurod had taken a chair.

  “Since neither of you are daft, I am safe assuming that you have both figured out that my family has wealth in Strolm. That is only the beginning of my history. I have also garnered quite a bit of power and influence here as well. Suffice to say that a wrong step here could ruin that for me.” Xardan stated, “I would like to leave Strolm tomorrow morning and continue chasing Lewk and Justyn without having any incident here tonight. We have left a trail of blood and magic that makes it too easy for Lewk and Justyn to know when to leave a city.

  “They however did not anticipate my influence here. I know now that they are still here in Strolm and unaware of our presence. One of my family’s agents has found that their plan is to leave eastward tomorrow morning, and that they intended to leave a trap here for us.”

  “What type of trap?” Jurod asked.

  “The Shadow Hands?” Ilays followed.

  Xardan sat silently looking at the pair before continuing, “I have a… tenuous alliance with the leadership of the Shadow Hands. Their assassin accepted the contract to kill me, but they were kind enough to send me a warning.”

  Jurod felt the shift in Ilays that told him she had started Focusing and had to bite back the fear rising in his throat.

  “What’s going to happen?” Jurod asked.

  “You are going to stay here Jurod,” Xardan ordered, “Ilays will stay nearby to protect you. I will go out into the city and track down the assassin that took our contract.”

  “I thought you didn’t want a trail of blood and magic?” Jurod recalled.

  “I don’t,” Xardan finished, “Which is why I’m going out there alone. I have enough skill and experience to kill him and his comrades silently. Ilays has enough skill and experience to dispose of them if they outmaneuver me.

  “You however, are still learning. You still can’t hold a Focus and you can’t extinguish your Drashyre on your own, which means the only skills you can rely on are your blade work and throwing knives. You will stay in your room.”

  “What about Justyn and Lewk?” Ilays asked.

  “I know they’re here,” Xardan answered, “But I’ve yet to find out where they’re staying.”

  *

  It was late when Justyn woke in the street exactly where the thugs had accosted him. All his weapons and armor had been replaced exactly where Justyn himself had placed them and a crossbow bolt had been embed
ded in the corpse of a would-be thief next to him. Recovering from whatever drug the Shadow Hands had given him, it became an effort to get back to the inn. Eventually, he returned to Lewk and Nikolas. Nikolas sat against the wall in the corner that he had been assigned, and Lewk sat on the bed with the spell book open on his lap.

  Justyn immediately crossed the room and scooped the book off Lewk’s lap. Lewk moved to grab at the book and was interrupted by a knife appearing in Justyn’s hand.

  “This book is for the King’s eyes only.” Justyn ordered, “I will keep it in my bags until we can deliver it to him.”

  “It will never be delivered to the King.” Nikolas cheerily announced from his corner, “I will personally see to that.”

  Justyn and Lewk both spun on Nikolas with lethal intent.

  “There is only one problem with that plan, old man.” Justyn mocked, “You see, now that Lewk knows how to open the spell book, we don’t need you alive anymore.”

  Nikolas only smiled at Justyn as the soldier crossed the room and retrieved his blade. Justyn hid the small knife and slowly drew the fine steel from its sheath. As he moved to plant the tip of the weapon on Nikolas’ throat, Lewk began to speak.

  “Be careful Justyn,” Lewk warned, fear gripping his voice “I’m Focusing. He’ll be able to do whatever he needs to protect himself with my magic.”

  “Well then release the Focus!” Justyn roared.

  “I don’t know how he’s done it,” Lewk admitted, “But I can’t. He’s not only controlling my spells, but my Focus as well.”

  Nikolas’s magic pushed Justyn back as the old monk rose to his feet. Justyn lifted his blade into both hands in a middle guard as Lewk prepared a pair of Shield spells with what little control he had left.

  The three men stood staring at each other, waiting for the other side to move. Justyn finally lunged forward at the old monk, only for Nikolas to take Lewk’s Shield spells and deploy them against the soldier.