The King's Sword

by AJ Searle

  The bottom of the swamp was soft and the water rose above his waist. He stepped cautiously, feeling his way through the dark water until he was at Sorcha’s head. Then he bent down, turning his head so that his face was above the surface, and ran his hand along her leg. Mud sucked around her leg up to her knee. Using his fingers, he began to loosen the wet dirt around her leg and foot.

  “Give her another pull,” he told Keegan. The horseman clicked his tongue and pulled at her bit. Mikel let out a breath of relief when the horse stepped forward and up from the mud.

  But Ronan was slipping the moment she was free. “Dragon’s blood,” he cursed as he tried to free his own foot but the mud sucked at him until he was up to his chin in the swamp water. His head snapped around. Someone was coming. And fast.

  But Diato was the least of Ronan’s worries at the moment for the mud sucked again and he took a deep breath before he was pulled completely beneath the surface. Bending down, he tried again to free his foot as he had done Sorcha’s. But Sorcha was bigger and stronger than he was and the mud continued to suck at him. The water moved around him as someone neared. He reached out, grasping blindly in the water for anything so that he might pull himself free. His fingers found nothing. Don’t panic.

  He could faintly hear Ula screaming. Something grasped his arm, wrapped around it. Fiona was attempting to snake him loose. But she wasn’t strong enough. Don’t panic. He touched the slick snakeskin of her arm as his chest began to contract. He patted her gently and after a moment she uncoiled from around him. Ula screamed again.

  The urge to take a breath was powerful. He reached down again in an attempt to dig the mud from around his foot. But his fingers fumbled. Don’t panic. But he was beginning to fill with fear. He’d let out most of his air and his lungs felt as if they were about to collapse. It was about time to start panicking.

  And then two hands grasped him under his arms. They pulled and Ronan felt himself pulling loose. But it was too late, he thought as blackness began to swirl around him through the water. He went limp.

  * * *

  “Here he comes around,” a voice said from directly above him and Ronan dragged a loud breath into his lungs. He turned his head as water rushed up his throat and he spit it to the dry ground beneath him. He opened his eyes to find the centaur Bryan smiling softly down at him. Ronan’s hand immediately reached for and rested on the sword on his hips and Bryan’s mouth slanted.

  “You are alive, Ronan Culley, though I should have left you for the harpies to pick apart for the way you behaved on our last meeting.” The centaur grasped Ronan’s arm and hauled him to his feet.

  Ronan glanced around him. The swamp was behind them. The others were standing around with expressions of relief on their faces. Ula’s face was tear-streaked, her hand covering her mouth. He breathed out slowly.

  “Yes, but then you wouldn’t have another chance at the sword.” Ronan looked back at the centaur. “What took you so long?” He heard Ula let go the breath she had been holding.

  Bryan snorted. “Fake sword, villagers with poisonous darts. Let’s just say that I had a few setbacks.”

  “Was one of them riding with several men and spouting his intentions to kill me?” Ronan asked, glancing back at the swamps.

  “The guards?” Bryan shook his head. “They turned back right before they got to the island. I met them on their way back. A horde of harpies screeching at their backs. Your doing?”

  “As a matter of fact.” Ronan called over his shoulder, “Ula.” She was there instantly, touching his arm.

  “Are you in pain? Do you need me to heal you?”

  “I need you to go into those trees there and hunt us up something big like an elk. Kill it and bring it back to me.” He told her. She looked at him with a strange expression but hurried to do what he’d commanded.

  “I am in debt to you, Bryan.” Ronan rested a hand on the sword. “But I cannot repay it until I reach Merisgale. Walk with me a moment in private.” Ronan took an unsteady step but Bryan placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “I will deliver the sword to Merisgale and will request payment for my service. I’ve decided that I will use that request to speak on your people’s behalf.” Ronan stopped when the centaur halted. “I am going to request that the centaurs be declared a people free from the rule of Merisgale.” For a moment Bryan was still. He only stared at Ronan.

  “Why would you do that?” The centaur finally spoke.

  “Because I think you are just in what you want for your people.” Ronan chuckled. “So much so that I have considered more than once relinquishing the sword to you.”

  Bryan’s eyes clouded. “No one has ever offered to do such a thing for us.”

  “They will have to consider it.” Ronan rubbed at his shoulders, realizing they were suddenly sore. “Would you grant me the chance to do it this way before you try to take the sword again?”

  Bryan nodded his head. “We would rather do it your way than with violence.”

  “Good.” Ronan crossed his arms, rubbing at both of his shoulders now. “Did you have to try and pull my arms from the sockets?”

  “It’s the only way I could pull you loose.” Bryan ducked his head, and then embraced Ronan roughly. “I thank you, Ronan Culley, for taking this chance for us.”

  “Alright. Alright,” Ronan said gruffly, embarrassed by the centaur’s unexpected show of affection. “Enough before the others start to talk.” Bryan chuckled as he released Ronan but gratitude glittered in unshed tears.

  “There is another matter and I may need your help,” Ronan lowered his voice, praying he could trust Bryan. “One of those who travel with me is working against me. I do not know which.”

  Bryan tossed his hair back over his shoulder. “I have suspected the crone.” Ronan’s eyes widened and the centaur continued, “The bridge at River Blanch was destroyed the night before you reached it. She is the only one who showed enough power to do such damage.”

  Ronan glanced toward the trees and Ula appeared, struggling to drag the elk she’d killed. Keegan ran forward to help her. He remembered how stricken she had looked, remember the agonizing scream he’d heard from her beneath the swamp.

  “But she warned me that someone was not who they seemed to be.”

  “She did?” Bryan grunted. “Perhaps I am wrong. If she meant to work against you she would not give her guise away by pointing out any danger.”

  “I don’t know who it is. I trusted each one of them,” Ronan admitted.

  “You need an objective eye on the situation.” Bryan watched Ronan nod. “Will do. But you have a bigger problem.”

  “What’s that?” Ronan looked at him.

  “Johran.” Bryan nodded when Ronan winced. “They will make this swamp look like the Jobi Hills.”

  “I’d rather be eaten alive than to face that swamp again,” Ronan growled.

  “You may get your wish.”

  “Drag it to mud at the edge of the swamp and leave it there,” Ronan called when he looked at Ula again.

  “You sent the harpies after those fools.” Bryan was grinning when Ronan slanted a gaze at him. “So you are more than a blacksmith.”

  “I suppose I am.” Ronan sighed and moved to help Keegan drag the Elk carcass to the edge of the swamp. The moment they stepped away, a swarm of harpies dived down to devour the animal.

  “That is disgusting.” Ula wrinkled her nose and swallowed loudly. The harpies were ripping the poor animal apart, screeching beneath every bite. That sound mixed with the smacking of their open mouthed devouring was enough to turn anyone’s stomach.

  “No, the rat foot is disgusting,” Ronan argued. “That’s just easy payment for a job well done.” Ula didn’t smile, turning her head and walking away from the gruesome tearing of muscle.

  “I’d like to get moving. The farther I am from the swamp the happier I’ll be,” Ronan announced.

  “Come on, little fellow.” Bryan plucked Mikel from Sorcha’s back with one h
and and dropped the wide-eyed changeling onto his own back. “Let’s give the blacksmith a little room to breathe.” He chuckled at his own joke when Ronan slanted a gaze at him.

  “Funny.” Ronan swung onto his horse. “Let’s go.” He looked back at the others as they mounted and started forward. His band was getting larger. They’d started out as just four. Now there were seven.

  Twelve

  Ronan studied Ula as she rubbed her ointment into his shoulders. Her leathered face was one he’d grown to know well. He recalled the younger version of herself he’d seen when she fought the Sledgers and wondered why she didn’t use her magic to make herself appear like that always. But perhaps she had nothing she felt she needed to hide.

  “You are wondering if I am the one who undid your magic.” Ula did not look up from her hands. Her fingers dug deep, relieving his muscles of their tension as she applied the medicinal ointment.

  “It’s crossed my mind.” Ronan glanced across the campfire at the others. His eyes found Fiona’s. She was gazing at his bared torso with hunger in her eyes. He forced himself to look away from her. He could not take the chance. Not when he did not know who the betrayer was.

  “I am a sorceress. I haven’t the magic to change a wizard’s spell, even one who has no training like you.” She dipped her fingers into the salve and then placed the cool of it against his arm. The ball of her hands kneaded into him and he grunted at the deep pleasure it brought to his arm.

  “Then who was it?” Ronan asked but she shook her head.

  “I don’t know. It is as much a puzzle to me as it is you.”

  “Fiona?” Ronan asked, lowering his voice. Her black eyes finally lifted reflecting two tiny campfires in each.

  “Fiona is not of the dark forces. She has spent her life trying to keep from being as weak as her grandmother had. This is not the first time she’s taken a sword to a wizard.” Ula massaged her healing concoction into his skin. “The liar will show himself soon enough I would imagine.”

  “I don’t know who to trust,” Ronan admitted and frowned.

  “Trust yourself.”

  Ronan nodded but she didn’t look up at him. Hers were wise words and the only course of action to follow. He shrugged away from her hands and she reluctantly moved away from him. He lay down on his blankets, hand resting protectively on the hilt of the King’s Sword. The betrayer would be a fool to try to take the sword when surrounded by so many suspicious persons. Ronan closed his eyes.

  * * *

  Robusk huddled in the corner of the dark place. There had been no light to open the darkness for him for two weeks. He’d been given only one meal since he was thrown down here and shackled. One meal of molded bread and a tin cup of dirty water.

  Shivering, Robusk looked up as the door of his prison unlocked and swung open revealing his captor. “It’s almost over, old man.”

  “Indeed it is.” Robusk’s voice sounded weak to his own ears. “The wizard blacksmith is not as stupid as you thought he was.” He tried to summon his power but lack of nourishment, the cold, and a protective shield of magic prevented him from doing his will.

  “No but those he travels with are. Except for one, of course.” A smirk moved closer and Robusk tried again to hurl magic at the man. “You are only wasting your energy, you know. I am more powerful than you.”

  “If that is true, why am I locked away and deprived food and water?” Robusk met those cold eyes with a smug smile. “Because you aren’t nearly as powerful as I am, Sleagan.”

  SleaganSleagan clicked his tongue. “Stupid old man. Don’t you know? You killed my father. In doing so, you gave me the throne over the dark forces. That is the only reason I have not delivered you to death already.” SleaganSleagan knelt in front of Robusk. “But you did kill him. So I’ve decided to watch you die. It’s a small fascination of mine. Death, that is.”

  “You will not get away with this,” Robusk warned and the man before him laughed wildly.

  “I’m already getting away with it. But it is to be expected. The first stage of dying is denial. It is interesting but I particularly enjoy the following stages. Pleading. Teetering on the brink of madness. And finally acceptance.” SleaganSleagan sighed heavily, shaking his head. “You grow thinner now, you are fading fast. I’d hoped you wouldn’t and allow me a few days extra of toying. But I cannot control the effects of age. If you were younger, it would bring me more satisfaction.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.” Robusk spat in his face. A slender hand lifted and wiped the saliva from his eyes but his expression did not change.

  “Is that all the fight you have left? You are supposed to be the great high wizard Robusk. I expected more from you.” SleaganSleagan rose and stared down at Robusk for a few moments before turning and heading back toward the door.

  “I’ll come for another visit tomorrow, to see how you fair,” he called before closing the door firmly. Robusk heard the lock turn and looked down at his hands. Chained where he was with dark magical shackles. There was no escape for him.

  Hurry, Ronan. He thought past the walls of his prison in desperation. The safety of Meris depends upon you.

  -

  Ronan had expected the hills of Johran to be as breathtaking as those of Jobi but he’d been wrong. Scowling, he gazed out at the brown grasses and gray rocks. The trees did not grow tall and lush, the foliage was sparse, and there was dryness in the air that made Ronan’s mouth water.

  “This is the ugliest place I’ve ever seen,” Arien said as he glanced around them and Ronan nodded with agreement. “It is no wonder they are cannibals. Nothing grows here to be used for food.”

  “Which brings up a fine point.” Ula looked at Ronan. “How are we going to get past this tribe of flesh eaters?”

  Ronan kept his eyes straight ahead. “They do not eat their own. So I will become one of their tribe.”

  “What?” Ula reached out and touched his arm causing him to look at her. Her black eyes were rounded as she stared at him and her lips formed the word ‘no’.

  “It is the only way.” Ronan kicked his horse forward so she had to release his arm. “And I’ll not hear any arguing about it. I’ve made my decision. It is the only way to save us from becoming someone’s breakfast.”

  “It sounds of madness.” Of course Keegan would not keep quiet just because Ronan bid it of them. “Even if you do convince them to make you one of their tribe, you realize you will be expected to eat with them. As you say, they do not eat one of their own. That means one of us will be part of your meal. ”

  Ronan swallowed but did not look at the horseman. “I have already thought of that.”

  “And?” Keegan demanded.

  “I will convince them that none of you can be killed because of the mission we are on. The outcome of this journey does affect the way of life of their tribe as much as anyone else’s. They will have to listen to my reason.”

  “You should start talking now.” Mikel pointed from Bryan’s back to the three men who stood on the hilltop ahead of them, each holding a spear that was longer than any of them.

  “Fall back,” Ronan ordered and for once, no one argued. They all obeyed allowing him to ride ahead. Hold your hands out so they see you have no weapon aimed at them. Ahearn thought from behind him and Ronan did as he suggested. The others followed suit.

  The men did not move, even as Ronan’s horse approached then stopped directly in front of them. “I wish to speak to the leader of your tribe,” Ronan said to the man who stood in the middle but it was the one to the left who responded.

  “You have trodden upon the soil that belongs to the Johran people. By doing so you seal your fate and provide our tribe with nourishment and…”

  Ronan dropped his hands impatiently. “I provide your tribe with nothing until I am granted an audience with your leader. The alternative is for me to cut you down where you stand.”

  One of the men smirked and Ronan’s lips pulled. “You think I cannot? What weapons do you have
that are so powerful to strike against the King’s Sword?” They blinked and Ronan knew he had their attention now. “Spears? You may use them well but you should be warned that I am a wizard and I travel with two changelings and a sorceress, each very dangerous creatures.”

  The one to the left spoke again. “You are the King’s Guard?”

  “He is the stone wizard, Ronan.” Keegan’s voice bellowed from behind Ronan with force that would have moved a mountain. The stone wizard? And then Ronan almost laughed as he remembered Keegan had caught him playing with the small stone at the lake in Jobi Hills.

  “You will take me to your leader now,” Ronan commanded.

  “No one comes to Johran unless they wish to become a meal to our people,” The man argued. “It is the law we live by.”

  “As your hunted are we taken to your leader?” Ronan asked, making a quick decision and praying he did not regret it later.

  “Yes.”

  “Then we surrender to feed your people. However I stipulate that no one is to be cooked or served until I speak to your leader myself.” Ronan crossed his arms. After a moment the man inclined his head and turned to lead them the way.

  “I hope you know what you are doing,” Keegan murmured lowly. Ronan did too. He’d just placed them all in the midst of what could become a very dangerous situation.

  “How far?” Ronan called after an hour and a half had passed.

  “Two days and a night to camp,” one answered and Ronan gritted his teeth. He’d assumed that he would be speaking to the leader tonight.

  * * *

  “I’m famished,” Arien said as they finally stopped for the night. “But I doubt there is anything to hunt around here.”

  Ula glanced at Ronan and he gave her a nod so she rose and stepped off into the dark. She wasn’t really hunting, he knew. He’d guessed it when she brought the elk back for the harpies. She was using sorcery to manifest food. Obviously the others hadn’t guessed the trick though for when she returned they all made a big deal over how great a huntress she was.