Maiden's Saber

by Marion Faith St. James

  Roarken whispers close to her ear. “This is for your presence in the dungeon sister. Do you feel honored?”

  “Not in the least; will there be others not on guard about the courtyard?” She asks.

  “I expect there may be a horseman or two. The king is holding court, so most will be eating or inside attending to him.”

  “Pray to the gods we do not encounter too many guards.” Amari says. She places her hands on the stout wooden door trying to sense what else may lie just on the other side.

  Roarken adds. “It has to be past the sixth hour. At the ninth hour, the watch is over and guards will be relieved. As this is the first of the watch changes, there will be a dozen or more sentries in the formation depending on the post. After the relief is posted here, they will march in formation to the main gate and then the battlements above. Always, there will be many soldiers. Those relieved will join the ranks of the changing guards. They will only break formation when all posts are relieved. Then they are dismissed to quarters.”

  Amari goes on to say. “We must be free of here before the guards change posts then. Tell me Roarken, how do the soldiers take to their sentry duties? Are they always posed to do battle or do they ever relax their guard?”

  “These men fear the wrath of the king’s brother, so they remain ever vigilant. However, during the day they are less attentive to their duties. Near the end of the long watch, they become tired and will talk among themselves about eating, playing Tafl and whoring.”

  “Good—Roarken, are you ready?”

  “Yes Maiden; what is your plan?”

  “Rap on the door and announce to the guards that it is you. Once the portal is opened where I can see the guards, stand aside. I will put a spell to freeze them in place like statues. When it is clear and no other soldiers are looking in our direction, we must move quickly to the armory. You will lead us to its location. We could leave the other weapons there if we had to, but the Helixx must not fall into Urel’s hands.”

  “As you wish Maiden,” Roarken says while banging on the door heavily. “Open up! It is I RamCrav, a brother in arms.”

  Several bolts and bars can be heard being removed from place. As the door opens wide and the stern face of the guard can be seen, Amari lifts her saber to the four guards gathered there. A quick spell freezes the unknowing soldiers in place. Even their eyes are locked from moving. They are aware of their predicament, but cannot neither move nor speak.

  “We must be quick as this spell will not last long, and I fear the ninth hour will be upon us soon. Roarken, it is up to you. Test the land before us.”

  Nodding his head, Roarken takes up his sword from a rack near the door and places it into the scabbard hung from the belt about his middle. He slowly ventures out into the center of the courtyard. He lifts his arms and stretches as if was sitting for a long time. He feigns a yawn while looking around the castle walls and within the interior. Only the grooms are about tending to their horses. They keep heads down and attend to their tasks. Those on the battlements are intent on scanning outside the castle walls. They are not concerned with what is behind them.

  Roarken turns to Amari and the others standing just inside the darkened doorway; he points to another large door at the other end of the courtyard where the armory lies. Scanning to see the parapet guards are still occupied with the goings on outside the gate, he motions for the Maiden and his companions to hurry and follow him. Walking fast, the warriors pass through the open space of the courtyard without raising an alarm.

  Roarken is first at the door. He pulls back the latch and opens the large iron door. Watching the battlements, he holds the portal open for the others to enter. Once they all pass through, he closes the door quietly, securing the heavy bolt from the inside. He speaks to those gathered at his back. “It will take a battering ram to breach this portal!”

  Leading the way, Roarken guides them through several doors as thick and formable as the previous. Each one he locks securely.

  “Why are there so many doors leading in here?” Dian asks.

  “This is not just the armory, but also where the King’s treasury is located.” Roarken answers.

  Gareth comments as well, on the number of doors they have gained access. Roarken has bolted each one after passing through. “I take it; we are not going back out that way?”

  “No! Once inside the armory we are committed to keep moving inward—there is no going back. We are most fortunate to get this far without being seen. The Gods are smiling on us this day.”

  They see several open doors down a long hallway just past a set of stairs going up and one set going down.

  “What is our path from here brother? Amari asks.

  Roarken points to the stone steps leading up. “We need to go that way my friends. It leads up to a tower room that is the armory. The reason for being this high up, it is more easily defended if the castle is overrun. A few men can hold these stairs indefinitely.

  The other stairs going down is where the coffers lie secured.” Roarken leads the others up to the winding stairs. Taking two steps at a time, he continues speaking to them. “Inside the room at the top are several narrow windows. They are just wide enough to allow a single passage of one at a time. I was going to use this as an escape route if I ever had the chance to free Truk from the dungeon.

  The tower windows overlook the farmland below. It would be a slow climb from the tower window on a stout line. When our feet touch the ground, it is a short run to the forest and safety. It will take the soldiers quite a while to exit through the gates, down the winding road, and travel around to where we climbed down—even with horses. That is if they knew where we went. Besides the armory, only the King’s chambers have windows facing the back of the castle. I doubt he is sitting there looking out at the moment.”

  I hid a long stout line here several moons ago in preparation for this day. As we will never breach the gates, I treated this or any other window would be a better escape route than facing a hundred swords.”

  “Your logic does you justice Roarken. Pray that the window will accept my girth.” Gareth says patting his stomach.

  Roarken smiles and says. “Do not dwell on the size of the window. You may lose a little flesh, but you should be able to pass without too much problem.

  Quickly now my friends keep ascending the steps; time is fleeting.”

  As they continue climbing the steep stairs single file, an alarm bell is clanging somewhere outside the walls of the armory building.

  “Well sister, it looks like your spell has ceased to keep the dungeon guards quiet,” Dian notes.

  “We are safe for a time.” Roarken says. The soldiers will search the castle, room by room—chamber by chamber. There are many doors and areas to investigate. I have been a soldier here for many moons, and I know their routines. First, they will secure the king. Then systematically go from room to room outwards from his quarters.”

  “Would they not try the armory first? Reasoning we would attempt to retrieve our weapons.”

  “True, but I bolted the door from the inside. Thinking it was secured, the searchers would go elsewhere. If we do not turn up after an exhaustive search, they will go to any door that was previously locked to them. There are only three keys to this weapon storage. The Master-at-Arms has one hung around his neck. The king has the second somewhere in his private quarters. The Captain of the Guard has the third. On the other hand, should I say he had the third? I relieved it from his person while he slept.

  At the top of the stairs is yet another closed door. Roarken bangs on it. “You there—open the door!”

  From the other side we hear. “Go away whoever you are. Do you not hear the alarms? None may enter except the Master of Arms or the Captain of the guard. By your voice, you are neither.”

  “Is that you Trex? It is I RamCrav open this door now!”

  “You know the rules Ramcrav; I cannot allow entrance.”

  “I was ordered to come here and give suppo
rt to your watch.”

  “I know of no such order. Depart now!”

  Anxious, the Maiden pushes past Roarken and touches the point of her saber against the wooden door. “Tell the soldier it would be best if he moves away from the door, else be crushed by it.”

  Roarken gives the unmovable thick door one last rap with his fist. “Trex, the door is about to be breached. Stand aside!”

  No response is heard from within the armory.

  In Amari’s hand, Katana glows the familiar hue of indigo. The door starts to rattle and shake. All at once, the portal crashes inward. It is torn from its metal hinges. The lock shatters into a dozen pieces of metal and springs. The barrier crashes against the far wall. Behind it, mangled arms and legs of the soldier who stood his ground to the end—dead.

  Amari and the others pour into the room seeking their weapons. Roarken goes to the window and throws open the shutter. He looks down and gulps. “It is higher than I remember.”

  “Do not fear,” says Gareth. “I can carry you down on my shoulders, with Truk.”

  “I merely said it is high; not that I could not climb down.”

  “So you say warrior!” Gareth says while looking over Roarken’s shoulder.

  All about them are racks upon racks of swords, lances, and short spears. Shelves contain knives and other stabbing instruments.

  Roarken grabs a sword and scabbard hanging on a rack with dozens of others. He pulls the sword and swings it; doing several thrust and parries. Not satisfied he grabs another. He goes through this ritual until he finds one to his satisfaction. That one is quickly buckled about his middle after removing the one he had. “This is much better than that poor blade I was issued.”

  Meanwhile, the others are searching for their weapons. “Amari” says Natsha. I do not see my crossbow or short sword, nor any of our other weapons.

  “Roarken, where did you find Katana?”

  “It was just there; lying on that table wrapped in an old cloth. I rewrapped it in a bed roll in order to bring to you. The other weapons were there as well. They must have been taken after I left with the Maiden’s Saber!”

  “I will find them.” Amari raises her sword and slowly swings about the room like a compass pointing to true north. After two more revolutions, she stops her spinning with the sword. It is pointed at a full-length mirror hanging upon the wall. It is there. Katana has located Helixx her brother.”

  Gareth sets Truk down on a wooden bench. “Maiden, could your enchanted saber only see its own reflection in the mirror?”

  “No, it is tuned to the magic of Helixx. What we seek lies beyond the reflective surface.”

  Dian looks at herself in the glass. “Why is there a mirror in a storehouse of weapons? Are the soldiers here that vain they need to admire themselves adorned with armaments of war?”

  Gareth grabs the edges of the mirror and pulls hard. The small hanger that is attached to the stone is no match against his tugging, as the mirror comes away from the wall easily. Behind is revealed a small narrow doorway. “Well, by the Stars of Ganymede. It is a secret chamber!” He says.

  The big man pushes the door inward. No lock is there as the mirror thought to hide the portal from prying eyes. Gareth has to turn sideways, but he is able to enter.

  A few moments later, he throws out Natsha’s crossbow, quiver of darts and other weapons. Dian’s small dirk and all their travel packs soon follow. He emerges with Helixx strapped at his side and the crossbow slung over his back. He pulls the sword and holds it up to the light. “I feel better now this fills my hand. Let them come. Many will feel Helixx’s keen edge before this day ends.”

  They all gather their individual gear and prepare themselves. Natsha and Gareth fill their quivers with fresh crossbow bolts. Extra knives are secured inside boot tops by everyone.

  Dian can call upon the water sword when she has a source of the fluid. For now, she takes a short sword and several throwing knives.

  Truk still weak manages to grab a battle axe. A weapon he prefers. In the hands of a dwarf, it can weaken the resolve of many an enemy.

  “Come my friends.” Roarken says. “Here is the means of our escape.” He brings a small bench over to the window. We must be off before the soldiers either break down those doors leading in here or post sentries around the outside walls, cutting off our escape.”

  As if on cue, they can hear banging coming from below the stairs. It is a weak banging, as its sound must pass through several closed and sealed doors in the long passage.

  Roarken goes to the entrance now devoid of a door and peers down the dark stairs. “It appears they have decided to start checking all the locked doors. I reckon the battering is coming from the first door at the courtyard. It may take them a lengthy amount of time, but eventually they will win through all the barred portals. It seems they are not waiting for someone to bring one of the keys to the locks.

  We can easily defend this room. The soldiers would bottleneck themselves trying to get in here from the stairs. However, I for one do not want to test my metal just yet. Besides, we would not last long without food or drink.”

  “Yes,” says Amari. “Who knows what magic Urel will invoke in trying to root us from our perch?

  Roarken goes back to the window while Natsha loads her crossbow and stands watch. He takes the rope he had previously hidden in a chest near the window and secures one end around a large metal ring set into the stone floor. The reason for why the ring is there is unknown…even to him.

  Amari looks to her brother Gareth. “You go first down the line and protect us as we descend. Remember Helixx can call forth the earth and stone at your command. Use that magic to hurl rocks at any attackers before they can get close.”

  Gareth does not even question the wishes of the Maiden.

  Roarken throws the rope out the window and helps Gareth up so his legs are hanging out. The sailor’s shoulders are wide, but Roarken managed to push Gareth out with a little tearing of the big man’s tunic, and some skin rubbed off his arms.

  Roarken watches his new friend go down hand over hand. He makes it look easy with no effort at all. Once his feet touch the earth, Gareth sets a bolt in his bow and places another in his teeth, for easy reach. He looks about for any danger. He waves up to Roarken that it is safe to proceed.

  Roarken pulls the line back up. “Come Truk.” The dwarf hobbles over and allows his warrior brother to secure the end of the strong rope around his stout middle. He is helped up to the window’s ledge. Natsha, Dian and Amari grab a section of the line with Roarken. They slowly lower the powerful dwarf to the waiting arms of Gareth.

  One at a time, the rest climb down the rope to the ground below. Before they leave, Amari waves her hand and the rope acting like a snake climbs back up the wall and into the open window. “Let those that come for us be confused as to where we went?”

  With Amari in the lead and Katana at the ready, they move in a staggered line away from the castle. The dwarf Truk is supported by Gareth on one side and Roarken on the other.

  The small band disappears quickly into the forest.

  Natsha stays several meters behind to protect the rear. Even though Amari has cast several spells to hide their trail, the daughter of the Thieves Guild trusts her eyes more than mere enchantments.

  Chapter 9 – The Beast’s Sword

  Far from the King’s castle and the brave hearts who flee lies the famed Fire Woods. No mere man walks there as their footsteps disturb the leaves that will burst into flames and consume them. Sap falling from the crown of those enchanted trees, are like drops of fire which splatter on the forest floor. Only flesh is burned while the dry tinder of leaves and brush are untouched. It is truly a bewitched land.

  Legends of old tell, this is where the last of the surviving Blood Druids fled. It was after the battle with the Maiden Witch. The evil sorcerers cast a spell of fire on the forest to protect themselves.

  Only the lowly animals can roam there and remain unscathed. Alth
ough, those woodland creatures are few, as if they know evil lurks—waiting.

  Even before the rise of the fire enchantment, these woodlands held many mysteries. Deep within the woods of the ancients and protected by spells which blind a man from seeing what truly lies there…an unknown entity.

  By all appearances, a large open glade is nestled among the great trees. No man or animal desires to venture closer to that spit of land surrounded by dense woods. Some unseen force puts the fear or trepidation in the spirit of all who happen to chance upon the tranquil glade.

  A few have pushed close, but whatever is there unseen has driven away the adventurers or the foolish. Flames which spring from the trees will burn those who do not know the proper incantations.

  A few who returned after braving the soul eating fear, have recounted tales and stories. The seared skin is evidence, they spoke the truth about venturing anywhere too near the great fire woods.

  It is strange. A tree can spew forth fire, but not consume itself in the process. A wondrous ancient magic dwells there.

  Deep in the center of the dense wood, is a clearing. A green carpet of grass and the sweet smell of heather are a sharp contrast to the evil that dwells below the timberland.

  A large circle of upright stones standing several hands high forms a Druid’s place of worship to their gods. At the very center is an altar still with the dried blood of past sacrifices.

  Suddenly the silence in the wood is broken as the sound of stone grates across stone, echoes in the clearing. Even the trees seem to bend away from the strange sound.

  The altar of stone moves slowly to one side, revealing a dark and foreboding opening in the earth. Red sparks issue from the black hole, cascading like a waterfall onto the ground. The flickering lights ends. A lull and then followed by hundreds of sinister looking flying beasts. They form a tornado of wings, curved claws and sharp teeth. In moments, they are gone into the night. The winged harbingers of death are searching for some hapless prey. Pity the small beast or human child caught out in the open fields at dusk.