Maiden's Saber

by Marion Faith St. James

  I take several layers of cloth from her burial chamber and wrap it around my hand. As long as my flesh does not contact the sword directly, I am able to pick it up. I can still feel the warmth, but it does not burn me.

  I run to catch up to Gareth and Amari as they have left the monument steps and are just entering the wood. I can see that she has gone limp in his arms. Her chest still rises and falls, but her eyes remain closed.

  “Gareth, where are you taking her?”

  “There is only one safe place that I know of for now. It would be the Thieves Den at Acredale.”

  “You cannot go there! Take a moment and think on it. That is my village and we would be welcomed as brethren, but think if the Guild were to learn she is the Maiden Witch, her life would be forfeit. You may not know the history behind this one. She had killed many of that clan in her time, and they have a long memory of these things.”

  He is broodingly silent, as he turns and looks upon the Maiden’s face. Gareth sits Amari on the ground, and sets her back against a tree. She slumps down with her chin resting on her chest.

  “Natsha, do you know of another haven for one such as her?”

  “Why do we have to bring her anywhere my Cara? Although she fought against evil in many forms—darkness follows her steps. If evil comes calling it will not overlook you or I. Our death would be quick as we travel her path as well.

  She said that your essence flows in her. Which makes me think you feel some strange bond in which you want to protect her. You have no magic shield to raise up for protection from the evil that wishes her spirit. I think we should leave her here and be on our way. What say you?”

  “I am bound to her like a brother as I am bound to you my sister. This I feel deep within my heart, as it was placed in my spirit by her touch, or my blood flowing in her veins. I cannot leave her to the wolves and other beasts of this wood. She saved us from the soldiers; we are in her debt until it is repaid.”

  I sigh at his loyalty to the ancient ways. “You are right my friend. It was too quickly I forgot the old customs of debt and honor. I know of a place not far from this dell that only the most fearless would dare to enter. The Dragon's Grave!”

  “I have heard tell of it Natsha. I thought it be a myth to scare children from wandering into the woods”

  “It is a myth, but it holds some truth as none dare tread into the dark den or walk the earth near it. I am the daughter of a great man who showed me where it lies. We never went any closer. I feared what I did not understand. We must make way quickly as night is closing in and those that travel in darkness will be at our heels.

  Chapter 3 - The Dragon's Grave

  Night is falling fast when we crest a moss-covered hill. Below is a deep valley, gently sloping down from our vantage point on top.

  I point for Gareth. “Our goal is there! The dark area tucked into the side of a small mountain. Below a rock overhang is the entrance to the dragon's lair. The tale often told is that the great beast was slain eons ago by the hand of a valiant warrior.”

  The baying of some far-off night stalker hurries us along. Gareth groans as he has been carrying the Maiden for the last three hands of the sun that passed over our heads. We covered two leagues at a fast pace.

  As Gareth and I get closer to the cut in the earth, we can see tendrils of smoke rise from the dark cavern. It was if some dragon spewed flames burned there. A hint of sulfur’s acrid smell still lingers, as do the yellow patches that stain the ground.

  Gareth has to stoop a little in order to pass through the jagged rock entrance of the cavern. Now within we can see those tiny smoke spirals revealed as steam from some deep earth fires. This smoke once herald molten rocks that have transformed into hot red liquid bubbling to the surface. There is no rumbling that forewarns a breaking of the earth, so it is safe to enter.

  A short distance of several meters further inside we observe a rise of packed earth. This will be a good place to rest. It is high ground in the cave and easily defended. Anyone trying to attack will need to come through the entrance—easy meat for our arrows. Nothing can get behind us, or our flanks.

  We step on small bones and rocks as we climb up the embankment. I gently lie the Maiden down on the ground and put my extra tunic under her head. “Natsha, I go for wood to build a fire. Stay alert as I will return shortly.”

  Natsha adds a warning. “Stay close to the dragon's den my brother in arms. Dark forces are massing. I can feel an ominous presence circling, but fear for now keeps it from coming here.”

  “Natsha, I thought the Maiden was the witch?”

  “Foolish man, did you not know that all women are witches. Now go and be safe.”

  It seemed like forever as I stand at the entrance watching for Gareth. The moon now lingers in the night as the sun sleeps. A dark shape detaches from the trees. The ghost-like figure seems to flow from the forest and move toward me. I fear that a night wraith may be looking for flesh to devour. I notch a steel bolt to my crossbow and aim down its length, centering on the form as it takes shape and continues to move toward me. My finger tightens on the trigger.

  “Save your arrow; you would probably miss me anyway!”

  I lower my bow and return the shaft to the quiver. Smiling I say. “You are so large Gareth that I could close my eyes and still hit your lumbering bulk. Why the long delay in your return brother?”

  He makes a circle in the air with his finger. “I made a circuit around the den before collecting this arm load of wood. I saw or heard nothing but small skittish animals getting out of my way.”

  Dropping the wood, I pull on a leather strap and unlace a pair of hares from my belt. “Got these two cornered in a thicket where they had nowhere to run. Look how fat they have become. Natsha, would you mind starting a fire. I will prepare these hoppers for cooking. The roasted meat will warm our bellies.”

  “Sure, that’s what a woman is for; starting a fire, warming your bed, and all manner of things.”

  “I beseech thee to calm down Natsha. I offered to clean them. Is that not a woman’s job also? I am willing to share…” I see that smile start at the corners of her mouth. “Wench, you were baiting me!”

  “You are such a man. It takes no effort to maneuver your thoughts, and just as easy to fool. Go about your butchering. I will build us the fire my brother.”

  I shake my head at the easiness she spins my thinking. I go to work removing the fur and gutting the hares. Sharpening a pair of sticks and removing the bark, I insert one into each carcass—from neck to tail. Using stones to hold one end of the skewers, I position them over the fire Natsha has brought to life. “We eat within the hour.”

  I look at the still form of the Maiden Witch. “How does she fare?”

  “She still rests quietly. I would expect that after the decades of Death Sleep, she would have had enough slumber.”

  As if the Maiden were listening from somewhere in the depths of her mind, a deep moan escapes her chest. Her eyes begin to flutter. Gareth and I are bending over her as her eyelids open in a lazy movement. It takes several moments before her eyes appear to focus and look at her saviors. The stark coolness of the brilliant blue eyes stares intently at our faces. She smiles.

  Amari tries to rise. Natsha sits down next to the Maiden and lifts her shoulders, so she is sitting with her back against a large smooth stone.

  As she supports Amari, I tilt my water flask against her lips. She gulps the water quickly until I have to pull it away. “Slowly m’lady, too much will bring pain to your insides.”

  Her speech still comes as a harsh whisper of a long unused voice. “Thank you, you are most kind sir. I am forever in your debt for many reasons.”

  She looks at the fire and then around the large cavern, as flame created shadows dance on the low ceiling. She sniffs the air and her eyes widen; “Zmaj! We should not be here.” She grabs at my arm. “Please help me up to stand. Where is my sword?”

  Natsha well-versed in several languages knows that Z
maj is ancient Aventine for dragon. “Prithee not to be concerned Maiden. There is no scaly one to devour us. If it ever really existed, then it is dead these many centuries. We are safe here from those that would do us harm.”

  She releases the hold on my arm and settles back against the wall. She appears drained from just that small bit of exertion.

  The aroma of the roasting meat fills the cavern and the sounds of my stomach lets the Maiden and Natsha know that my belly is empty. I slice off a small piece of the hare and taste it with a watering tongue. “It is done!” Working quickly as the heated meat stings the fingers, I cut several pieces and hand them to Natsha. I look to the Maiden. “Are you strong enough to eat lady?”

  “I am hungry, but alas; I do not eat the flesh of animals or beasts. My faire is what is plucked from the ground and trees.”

  “Wait,” Natsha says while standing and going to her small travel pack. I rummage around and find the half of pomelos wrapped in a lettuce leaf. There are also several dried dates. I hand them to the Maiden. “You had no food for decades, and this is the best we can do for now. Will this slack your hunger some?”

  “Yes…?”

  “Natsha, my name is Natsha.”

  “Yes, thank you Natsha. Whence do thee hail?”

  “I am from Acredale. It is several leagues to the north. My clan is Mod-gin, but I am the last of my people. My companion,” as she lays a hand to Gareth’s shoulder, “is Gareth; once a man of the sea who has traded his salt for the dry land. He is my sword brother, and I shield mate and sister to him.”

  The Maiden is still for a time before speaking again. “The Half-Sleep of The Dead you told me earlier has muddled my judgment and ‘membering. Some thoughts and visions are returning although cloudy and full of dark spots. You called me Amari Djinn. The name is becoming familiar to me.

  The last thing I can recall is a battle with evil men of the shade. I was victorious and as I knelt to give thanks to the land that gave me birth and magic, a coward struck my hind with a Willowsip barb. Lying there upon my back, I saw the druid bending over me with the branch in his clawed hand.

  My body was immobile, but I heard the screams of those that thought to take up my Black Saber. The sword will protect itself from anyone’s touch, save me. It will only obey my hand to grasp it and bring forth all its power and magic.” Suddenly she says. “Please, where is Katana my sword?”

  Natsha goes and kneels behind a rock. She lifts the Maiden’s sword wrapped in her burial rags. I hand it to Amari.

  The Maiden lays the bundle upon her lap and carefully unwraps the cloth. The legendary Saber is the color of the night, but as the Maiden grasps the jeweled hilt, it glows and changes to a shimmering blue of an early-morning sky. Colors and light seem to dance across its surface and creep up her arm.

  The Maiden’s complexion were once was ashen is replaced by the pink of a healthy woman. The white hair seems to dance upon her shoulders and in the air about her head. Those crackling sparks we saw back at the crypt have returned. The fanciful sound of tinkling glass is heard as well.

  The Maiden raises the sword above her head. “Katana is restoring my strength. She draws her power from the earth. As long as the earth exists…then so shall I. Those who imprisoned me did not know the extent of the enchanted powers within my blade. If those vile wretches suspected, then they would have kept it far from me when I was thrust into that stone burial vault. My spirit and mind thank you Natsha for bringing it to me.

  You were wise to wrap it thus,” while she fingers the linen cloths. “Only my burial shroud protected you from its wrath. If but one finger were to grace the blade’s surface you would have died in flames and agony. This I do remember from the old days.” Grasping the blade, the Maiden pricks her finger with the needle sharp end. Come thee hither, both of you.”

  Together, Gareth and I sit at her side.

  She touches each of our foreheads with the bloody finger. “From hence you Natsha and your Gareth are bound as kin with me.”

  I look at Gareth and can see the drop of blood on his forehead. It turns an even brighter color of red and then seeps into his skin. It must be doing the same to me as I can feel warmth where she touched. In a moment, no evidence of the blood is left on either of us.

  “Here Natsha, take up my sword.”

  I start to reach for it but remembered her warning about fire and pain—I quickly pull back.

  “Do not fear my sister; it will know you as my kin. A portion of me flows within your body. She looks to Gareth. It is the same way your blood is within me my huge friend.”

  I gently reach out and place my hand on the pulsating blade. As my fingers grasp the warm metal, the sword turns to a brilliant red. All at once, I can feel a renewed energy course through my body.

  The Maiden smiles at this and says. “The saber chooses the element revealed within you just by your touch. “Red is the hue of fire and flame. With this in your hands, you can command flame and ember to do your bidding. You would need training to learn how to bring forth the enchantments.”

  The Maiden looks into Natsha’s eyes as if searching. “There is something else about you? I am not sure of what I sense, but it is a great power sleeping within you. In due time, much will be revealed.”

  Amari takes the sword from Natsha and hands it to me.

  I without hesitation grasp its handle and lift it high over my head to the cavern ceiling. The sword’s smooth surface changes into a shimmering brown. Our reflections disappear into its depths.

  “Yours is the elemental powers of the stones and earth. They will do your bidding. You only need to command it with the right magic spells. Katana has chosen to give you those powers, as I hold the same powers plus uncountable others.”

  When I look upon this fair one, her smile seemed to part the clouds and let the light bathe him. She was pure in the truest sense. He felt himself cleansed as he savored her smile.

  I shake my head to clear those thoughts and return the sword to her hand as she takes a bite of the pomelos and looks at me.

  The Maiden turns her attention back to Natsha. “You seem to be a learned woman in reading Natsha. I wish to learn what has transpired since my death sleep. Pray to tell me of this place of dragons as well.”

  Natsha grins. “I am excited that I have someone to tell of the countless hours I spent reading old manuscripts and scrolls, and what I have learned. Each page I read seemed like an adventure to be lived.”

  Natsha sits cross-legged, next to the fire between Amari and Gareth. Loosening her sword belt to get comfortable, she takes a breath and begins.

  “This is the land of Aventine, in the realm of King Gavin Borin. He may be king, but all know Althalos Borin, his brother, guides the king's words and actions. Althalos challenged and killed Prince Kraiden and started the war with the League of Wedgemore. For the last two decades, the king's army and those of Malendor Ash have battled. Many valiant men in the king's name have died over the years.

  Our land has been spared the direct ravages of conflict as the battles occur over the great mountains surrounding this realm. Entrance is only gained through the pass at Portcullis; guarded by several legions of the King's Mangonels archers.

  The battles may be several day’s journey from here, but many young men were conscripted to join the Army of Aventine. If one had the means to pay the scutage, they can buy their way out of service. Only nobles could well afford the steep purse, so they are not required to do service as swordsmen.”

  Taking a breath and touching Gareth’s hand, she says. “Once there soldiers going through the countryside recruiting men. They tried to take Gareth for their ranks. They finally gave up after he put a full squad into their beds with broken bones and sword slashes. They were fortunate that my big friend was not in the mood to send any of them to their ancestors.

  Before these dark times, the land knew peace. Before even then came the time of your passing and adventures. It is written and told by the old ones that st
ill live that the Druids ruled with magic and pain to all who opposed them. During the Druids rule, no king held the throne in Aventine. The armies were small and answered only to their generals. They mostly fought among themselves and did not raise their swords to defend the common folk.

  It was you; the Maiden Witch which stood between the helpless and the forces that thought to subvert and corrupt those that held to the old faith. Once you were gone, many of the ones you protected came under the powers of the Shades and longed for your return. I have not seen it myself, but it is said that your Jack and Targe adorn one of the chambers at the King's castle. It was found at the place called Maiden's Glen. A place told in many stories where you defeated the Druids and disappeared decades ago.

  A hunter chanced on that very battle ground in the deep woods. The huntsman told the court scribes that a full two dozen Druids lie in death there, along with many of their minions and slaves. He remarked that many of the evil dead had sword wounds that did not bleed or seep. It was as if the cuts were burned closed.”

  Natsha looked at Gareth. “We saw the same burned wounds on the soldiers at the monument, where you saved us.

  The hunter offered your Jack and Targe to the king as tribute. The battle location was not written in the history scrolls by the scribes. So, it was lost with the hunter's passing. The last entry he voiced to them was he vowed never to return to that field of pain as much death and evil still lurked there. What is written of the battleground was somewhere in the deep woods where the last of the Druids supposedly retreated.

  Amari seems to be in pain as she rubs her head at the temples. It was if she was forcing her memory of a time gone into the mists.

  “I do remember my quilted long coat and round shield. The woven leather of the coat protected me from many a sword thrust or an arrow in flight intended to wound me. The shield saved my person several times from the long bows of the Jarin warriors. Nothing could penetrate its surface as it is from one large scale discarded from a Roamer Dragon. It was crafted for me by an armorer that was skilled in working with reptile skin. This craftsman said that he found several of these scales lying about in the deep woods.