by Bill Mays
She pressed the blade forward and blood began to trickle from his neck. “Liar! I have seen the symbol of the Dark Lord before. Don’t think me a fool warrior; it will only be your end.”
It suddenly all made sense. That damn brand on his ankle. He knew it would come back to haunt him someday. The twisting black dragon tattoo that marked him for life had been exposed.
“Forgive me,” Tark choked as he strained to pull away from the sharp blade. “The mark is a magical brand. I was a gladiator in service of the Dark Lord’s house. I escaped, and was cursed for my efforts by that tattoo when the anklet was removed.”
She pulled her blade from his throat, but did not put it away. “Suppose I choose to believe your story. You are more than a mere wandering warrior. I know that much. Xina has seen the aura of fate over you. You have been chosen for something of great importance, don’t deny it. She’s never wrong about these things.”
Tark said nothing and only released a heavy sigh while he thought. “Is Xina the redhaired mage?” He whispered.
“She is a skilled sorceress of the arts of chance from the distant land of Xifanos. She once served at the Matron Peccata’s side. Her words are truth and her advice is valued. It is her and her alone that you should credit your life to. I don’t normally accept guests, especially when they are running from crazed fanatical sects.”
“Please send her my deepest gratitude,” Tark whispered sincerely.
“She swears you are an important man, though she can’t seem to elaborate on her senses. I have my doubts, but I trust her. Are you going to tell me what makes you worth keeping alive or should I just toss you overboard now? The fish are always hungry.”
“To the point, I like that,” Tark chuckled. “I’m afraid the details of my quest are confidential for important reasons, but your sorceress is correct in her sight. I must complete my journey for the good of Pangias.” Tark did his best to seem strong and sure of himself. He hoped the pirate woman would respect that.
Kottia began to laugh and laugh hard. “I’m not in the habit of doing favors for the good of mankind. Because of you, my crew is now enemies of the Order of Four, maybe the Dark Lord as well if I believe your story. We will be wanted criminals by those crazy idiots probably for the rest of our lives if Villinsk isn’t able to squash them completely. They aren’t a very understanding lot, as you already know. The way I see it, you owe me your life. How do you intend to pay up?”
Kottia replaced her cutlass in its sheath and leaned over the prone gladiator. She held him in a hard gaze. Tark pulled out his coin purse and tossed it to her. She rifled through the coins with a smile.
“It’s all I have, and it’s yours,” Tark sighed. “Just drop me back at the docks and forget we ever met.”
“Gold, that will do … for a start.” There came a light rap on the door. “Enter,” Kottia called out.
In strode a middle-aged man with thin, scraggly hair and a large hump on his back. He carried a bag of various ointments and bandages. “You sent for me, captain?”
“Yes, Panni, this is Tark. He’ll be staying with us for a while. See that his wounds are set to mending. His legs are currently paralyzed. It’s a magical disorder and should only be temporary, but you might want to check them out just the same.”
The hunched man nodded and went to remove Tark’s jerkin, but the big man’s hands shot out to stop him. Panni pulled back with a gasp. Kottia jumped in again with her blade at his throat.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she smirked as she pulled his jerkin off carefully. Her blade remained pressed against his neck. “You’re just full of surprises aren’t you? Is it another tattoo you hide from me?” She teased.
The pulsing light of the gem lit the small room in a pale blue glow. The pirate woman and the healer sucked in a breath with a start. Tark clamped his hands over the artifact defiantly. He did not care if the blade cut into his skin or not.
“Don’t touch it!” He growled.
Kottia thought to run him through, but held off and pulled back her blade. Perhaps this was something that Xina should see as well. There was a power to the glowing gem that was unsettling. She smiled down on the warrior curiously.
“Mend his wounds and don’t disturb his precious gem,” she instructed Panni. “I’ll be back to discuss that item a little later. I will expect more answers next time. It seems you are full of secrets, Tark of Drackmoore. First things first, I need to get us away from the port and safely out to sea.” Kottia took his trident from the wall and his belt that housed both sheathed short swords from the floor as she left the room in her confident stride, closing the door behind her. She had much to think over.
Tark held the gem tightly as the man bound him and applied his smelly ointments. The healer was not very talkative. That was fine with Tark. He did not much feel like talking either. He felt trapped. His course, much like his life, was spinning out of control. The pirate crew’s intentions for him remained unclear. They were headed out to sea. What would become of Herrin, Ado, and Nivit? How would he ever find his intended destination without the sage’s guidance? Would the fanatics come for him again? Could the reivers find him even at sea? Would these pirates let him continue his quest? Would they let him keep the gem? What about the Dark Lord -- he felt the powerful man searching for him. Tark wondered how long it would be before his former master found him. He also wondered what became of the lady in red. The Lady Kreasha reminded him of another lady, Dalia. It had something to do with her noble carriage and strong will. Physically they had no similarities. Was Dalia all right? He often wondered how the lady was doing since they separated. He tried to imagine her living a life of luxury far from the strife he brought into her life. How her sweet scent and calm voice would comfort him now, he thought with a sigh. The gladiator laid his head back and tried to clear his mind of all worries. He tried to focus on the comforting pulse of the gem. When his eyelids closed, a vision came to him. The eyes came to him again. One set was black, cold, and hungry, the other was darkness with pinpricks of fire. They were still searching for him. He could guess that they belonged to someone or something foul. Tark felt his anxiety building again. Only time would reveal his fate, but things were not looking good. He felt the jerk of the ship as it pulled away from the docks. The Sorohl Sea was unsteady and the Siren rocked roughly, as they made their way farther from shore. He had never sailed before. He knew the thought should frighten him, but Tark found a strange solace in the sea’s embrace. He could only hope that was an omen of good fortune. The big man needed something positive to grasp onto.
- Chapter 26 -
Rugen’s Welcome
Flade led the women through the dark wood with caution. The faint star and moonlight was not much to travel by. The sandy-haired ranger was determined to get them to Timbre without incident. He could not help but wonder if leaving the camp and the Kandairian soldier escort behind was a wise decision. Arianna’s warning of the shadows coming alive to devour them kept him on edge. The faint light of the moon that filtered down through the trees barely touched the leaf-covered ground. Shadows surrounded them. Dalia stayed close with her sword drawn. She constantly scanned the dark forest for any signs of danger. It was difficult to see much of anything. The lady wanted nothing taking her by surprise. She, too, was concerned with the priestess’ portend of doom. Arianna stumbled along bringing up the rear. She was the only one not thinking about her visions. She had other more pressing issues to deal with. Her feet and ankles hurt from tromping along through every scraping branch and thorny bush the thick shadows concealed. Perhaps sandals were not the best foot covering for traveling through the wilderness. This was not the first time that thought occurred to her. But what could she do; it was part of her religious garb. All of the priestesses of her faith wore similar footgear. The entwining straps drew attention to her shapely legs. Again, the priestess noted that the adventuring life was not for her. In a flash, the ranger jerked her aside and behind a cluster of trees for
cover.
“Something is headed our way, and fast,” the man whispered softly. His blades were already twirling through his nimble fingers. Dalia crouched quietly next to them.
Sure enough, the sound of loud footsteps grew near. It sounded like something was running after them. Dalia gripped her enchanted blade tightly and Arianna drew her slim club for comfort. She was praying that she would not actually have to use it. The footsteps grew closer. It was now clear there were two figures moving towards them and fast.
Flade slipped into the shadows, leaving the women huddled behind the cluster of trees. There came a scream as Flade dove from the darkness to tackle the second runner. Dalia, followed by a reluctant Arianna, leapt to confront the first figure.
“Hold your attack!” Flade yelled from his position atop the tackled figure.
His shout was barely enough to keep Dalia from slicing into Petre. The boy was taken off guard and did not have his sword or shield ready. The lady pulled up just short of a slash to the leg.
“Forgive me, my lady,” Flade sighed as he sprang to his feet and then helped Jillian up.
“Flade! Dalia and Arianna! You don’t know how happy we are to find you!” The girl squealed as she wrapped the ranger in a tight hug. The girl did not even seem to care that the man had just tackled her to the ground.
“What has happened? Why are you two out here alone?” Dalia questioned as she put her sword away.
“You were right about the danger,” Petre directed his statement to the priestess. “It attacked the camp, they’re all dead. There was nothing we could do,” the boy choked up as he spoke.
“It was a dragon! It’s just like you warned!” Jillian added fearfully. “It was the most terrible thing I’ve ever seen,” the girl sobbed. “It killed them so easily, like they were nothing more than newborn kittens attacking a fierce wolf.”
“A dragon?” Flade gasped.
“Yes, as black as the shadows with a demon’s red eyes,” Petre added.
Dalia looked to Arianna with concern. The priestess leaned heavily against a tree for support. “Then the visions are already coming to pass,” Arianna whispered. She knew they would happen, but the more she thought about it the more fearful she became. There were other events she had prophesized.
“Were there no others that survived?” Flade asked sadly.
“Ganze fled too, but we were separated,” Jillian offered. “The soldiers tried to fight it, but …” The girl seemed lost in a terrible memory.
“We should continue on,” Dalia stated confidently. “Timbre must be warned of this danger, if it is not already too late.” The lady regretted the statement as soon as it escaped her lips.
Jillian sobbed more at the gruesome thought. She could picture the winged beast descending on her town with devastating results. The girl seemed to realize she was crying and sucked it up, quickly wiping away her tears.
“We need to hurry. They are my only family now.”
“Stay on this path and move swiftly. Avoid any clearings in case the beast is flying overhead. I will watch our backs,” Flade whispered. “No matter what, we do not challenge a dragon,” the ranger was very serious. Like most people across Pangias, he had never actually seen one of the legendary creatures, but anyone with half a wit knew not to confront them.
Petre favored his side and Jillian limped a little. They had both been struck by the dragon’s tail, and the attack left its mark. Dalia quickly tended to the girl, while Arianna whispered a prayer to Rashas to heal the boy’s injuries. After the short mending session, everyone was on the path set by Flade. Timbre grew near and the threat of a pursuing dragon was more than enough to spur them on. As they moved, Jillian began to recognize her surroundings somewhat. She took the lead with a renewed energy of hope. It was not long before the sight of light could be seen through the trees. The companions stumbled from the woods into a large clearing. The field around the logging town had been expanded. It was evident the wood was used to reinforce and build upon the wall surrounding Timbre. It was a positive sight. The gate was closed, but lanterns lit the perimeter. All was quiet and in place at the small town. Petre and Jillian were set to rush the gate, but Dalia pulled them up short. She pointed to the clear night sky.
“Watch for any sign of the beast and approach the town carefully. We do not want to startle them into firing on us,” the lady whispered.
Flade soon appeared behind them. “I detected nothing following us. With any luck the creature has gone another way.”
The five members of the small group approached the town gate cautiously. Their eyes were constantly searching the skies for any sign of trouble. Once they reached the large wooden door, it was agreed that Jillian would call out to let them enter.
“It is Jillian Pandle, I have returned with our saviors. We have pressing news of danger to share. Please open the gate and let us in.”
Without a response, the gate opened. The streets were strangely empty and quiet. The companions had no time to take note of this fact. For all they knew, a deadly dragon would be upon them at any moment. They were just happy to see that the town was not destroyed. They each rushed inside. Flade and Petre pushed the portal closed themselves. The boy worked hard to bolt the large door shut again. That was when Dalia noticed that there was no one manning the gate. The entire town seemed dipped in shadow, despite the many lanterns.
“Quickly, head back to the woods!” The lady hissed. Her slender sword was drawn again. Flade felt her fear and drew his own blades quickly.
“Where is everyone?” Jillian asked aloud. There was a tension growing in her voice. “Uncle Barst, are you here?” She scanned the empty streets with mounting fear.
“Something isn’t right,” Arianna whispered. “There is an evil presence here.” Petre quickly started to unbolt the gate he had just managed to get locked.
“You aren’t leaving so soon, are you? We’ve been waiting for you, and you’ve just arrived,” a deep voice bellowed mockingly.
A large man in black plate armor with a familiar horned helm stepped into the street. The man practically melded out of the shadows. He lifted a massive two-handed sword and his cloak of black scales flapped in the slight breeze. He held an intense aura of power.
“Rugen!” Flade gasped.
Two more knights stepped to take a place at their general’s sides. From every building and alley in the town, Drackmoorian soldiers began to appear. There were many of them. How did they not see them before? Petre looked up and the walls were now covered in archers, their bows aimed at the companions. Some form of magical cloaking spell had hidden them in the shadows. There were also two priests on the walls. They were easy to recognize by their sigil-covered armor. No doubt, their prayers had set the trap. Dalia, Petre, and Flade, moved to stand before Jillian and Arianna. Everyone held their favored weapon at the ready, though the odds were hopeless. The companions stood huddled in the open area before the town gate.
“I see you’ve changed a few of your members since last we met. I was hoping to see the gladiator slave once more. We have unfinished business. At the least I wanted to slice that miserable little bat in two.”
“I’m afraid picking on gremlins is out of the question. You’ll just have to settle for us this time!” Flade shouted back. His blades twirled through his fingers, ready to fly.
“Put away your knives, they are useless against me or have you forgotten? So, you survived a cut from Ardath. That is surprising. I had always assumed that wasn’t possible. Then again, none who have escaped my wrath have been foolish enough to return,” Rugen chuckled.
“I guess I’m the first one to realize how unimpressive you are; and you assumed wrong about your cursed blade,” the ranger shot back. “Maybe you shouldn’t overestimate yourself in the future.”
“What have you done with my people?” Jillian cried out. She saw no one she recognized anywhere. Only Drackmoorian soldiers crowded the streets.
“A pitiful lot of cowards really,
hardly worth my time,” the horned man replied caustically. “I wouldn’t claim them as my own if I were you, child. They were kind enough to sell you all out before I sliced them into tiny pieces. I‘ve been expecting your return.”
“No!” Jillian screamed. “You monster!”
The girl let an arrow fly at the horned warrior. The aim was true. It struck his breastplate, just over his heart, only to shatter into tiny pieces. The arrow could not pierce his enchanted armor. Petre broke away from the others and charged the general. He was lucky, as was Jillian, that the soldiers had strict orders not to kill them. Their archers could have picked them both off by now.
“She’s right, you are a monster! You are the reason I’m here! I had a good life! Your kind threatened to kill my family! You knights sent my friends to their deaths! You murderer!” The boy shouted as he rushed to engage the general.
As he drew nearer, he felt an aura about the man that sent his stomach to churning and his head to aching. Rugen brought Ardath to bear faster than it looked possible with so large a blade. Petre managed to raise his shield in time to block the powerful blow, but it was not enough. The boy’s shield knocked aside and Petre was thrown to the ground like a rag doll with a shout of pain. Luckily, it was just the force and strength behind the strike that injured him. The cursed blade did not pierce his flesh.
Rugen looked down on the writhing boy and laughed. “You will have to be more specific boy, my men and I have slain many for the glory of Trakarass!”
The remaining companions rushed to Petre’s aid. Arianna and Jillian grabbed him and dragged him back to check his wounds.
“I see you are still here, priestess. I’m glad. There is much punishment I wish to inflict upon you,” the knight leered from behind his helm.
“You are no knight! You’re nothing but a bully hiding behind your mask and a holy symbol!” Arianna spat.
“Leave the women and children alone, Rugen!” Flade stepped forward to face the massive knight. He was just on the fringes of that nauseating aura the big man radiated. “Try challenging a real man, if you have the guts for it.”