by Aya Knight
Kale didn’t bother to question Zandol’s knowledge of their location. As a spirit dragon, he could move across the entire desert effortlessly, and Kale was confident in the information given. He wanted to be grateful for the help, but couldn’t help but feel discouraged. The time it would take to reroute their course, easily added another day of travel by foot. He ran a hand through his hair and looked to the sky.
Neelan, I promise we will be together again—soon. I will make it to their leader and bring him back, no matter what the cost.
“You should go now, Firehart. If your female companion’s time runs short, every moment is valuable. Don’t let her end up like me…” Zandol faded away into the darkness.
Kale felt surprisingly well rested for the unknown amount of sleep he had. He shook Thomas and Illadar awake, enduring the foul words spat his way from the two men as they sleepily struggled to sit upright. He informed them both of the newfound information and urged the need to move forward.
Thomas stood and dusted off his robes. “We’re going to teleport.”
Kale and Illadar stared at Thomas with dumbfounded expressions.
“You’re gonna’ end up killin’ yourself, old man. Don’t do somethin’ foolish.” Illadar shook his head in disapproval.
“I shall be fine. My body feels rested, and my belly is satisfied. Now is the most opportune moment before I expend my energy walking. I can’t bring us directly to the Imbola Clan’s location, though I can get us close. I’ve passed the southeastern desert border on multiple occasions. The walk from there, if all goes accordingly, shouldn’t take until sunrise judging by the star’s positioning. We are in luck that there is a mere sliver of moon tonight. We wouldn’t want the Clan to watch us stroll toward them. I have a hunch they would be anything but welcoming. Sorcerer-on-a-stick simply does not appeal to me.” Thomas smiled, stretching his arms high above his head. “Shall we then? I see no reason to linger here. Adding another day to reach their camp, just might be one too many for Neelan.”
Kale and Illadar hesitantly nodded before gripping onto Thomas’ arm.
The old sorcerer closed his eyes and spoke “Kalora Xenari.”
With a quick zap, they were sent through a void in time and dropped onto a bed of grass. Kale rubbed his stomach which still hadn’t adapted to teleportation. Meanwhile, Thomas was hunched over, panting heavily—the color completely removed from his face.
“I knew this was a poor idea. Are you going to be all right?” Kale questioned in concern while placing a hand upon Thomas’ back.
“I’m fine,” Thomas spoke quickly as he slid the sleeve of his robe over a blackened hand. He would not admit to weakness, though his head pounded terribly and veins pulsed against his flesh as though about to explode. He inhaled and pinched his eyes shut. With a lengthy exhale, he took a step forward. “We must keep moving.”
The desert wind roused as they continued to the southeast. Dunes were plentiful and their massive height and breadth made them strenuous to walk around. It looked like a dry sea of violent waves. After passing a sizable dune, which resembled more of a mountain than blown, accumulated dirt, a flicker of light came into view.
“Do you think that’s it?” Kale questioned.
“The odds seem high. Only a home to bandits would be so lively in the dark of night.” Illadar squinted forward to better investigate. “Some of the lights have moved which tells me there are guards present.”
“What shall we do? There are two options—risk the light of dawn catching us and attempt to slip inside where their leader is located now, or we can take the safe route and make camp somewhere concealed until the next nightfall.” Thomas stopped walking to await their response.
“You’ve just expended your energy to bring us here. I’ve hunted at night for most of my life. I’m certain there’s enough time for us to make our move. There is no more time for waiting. If I lose Neelan, then I lose my very will to live. If my brethren are to rise again, all hope now rests in this mission—and Neelan’s will to remain strong until we return.” Kale’s heart had fallen so deeply for Neelan that she had become his weakness. Without her, he was lost. She was the one who had warmed his soul and should he lose her, his very heart would return to its former shell of ice. The man he had become would step back into the darkness of despair.
“We need to devise a plan. We can’t just walk in and request to meet with the leader.” Illadar rubbed his scruffy chin. “It’d be nice to have some of Elanya’s potion about now.”
“Speak for yourself!” Thomas huffed. “I believe I’d rather die than go through that torment again. Besides, I’m sure the bandits have no remorse simply because of gender. I would go as far to bet that they’d forcefully fondle places that make your skin crawl just thinking about!”
Kale and Illadar both shuddered at the thought.
Thomas chuckled. “Anyway, I have an idea. I can form a distraction with magic—something simple, so I don’t want to hear any complaints from the pair of you.” He casually ensured his hand was still tucked inside his sleeve to avoid any concerns.
“Brilliant idea, old man!” Illadar nodded in approval. “Once they investigate the distraction, we can slip inside. From that moment on, we’ll have to improvise. This is unfamiliar territory and we won’t know what to expect once we pass the outer walls.”
“Agreed. Now let’s get going.” Kale insisted.
“Overzealous, impatient dragon.” Thomas laughed to himself. “I suppose we should make our move soon.”
They approached the perimeter of the village which was much larger than they had assumed from afar. Taking refuge behind a nearby dune, they could see two guards standing at the entrance, and two more patrolling the surrounding area. The village was secured behind a stone wall, which made Kale wonder how many people they had enslaved in order to carry large rocks across the blazing desert to create the barrier. The structural detail confirmed their suspicions that the village must be where the Imbola Clan leader resided.
“Here we go!’ Thomas ducked behind the dune to conceal their location. He focused his eyes upon the far side of the village wall. A red aura surrounded his palms which were pressed together at the wrists. “Kruedia esonek.” A fiery sphere began to swell, and within seconds the large ball of flames accelerated forward at incredible speed.
“What in Pan’s name?! Thomas, you could have given better warning!” Kale called out as the village wall exploded into many bits right before his eyes.
“You said you wanted to hurry!” Thomas called back as he ran forward.
“Move, kid!” Illadar demanded as he shoved Kale, nearly causing him to stumble over his own feet. “This is our only chance before they begin scouting for the source. The guards have already left their post.”
The three sprinted to the entrance and hooked to the side, behind a small building made of packed sand and wood. Chaos had broken out as bandits scattered to see what happened. Kale carefully peered around the corner and watched men, women, and children scurry. They each looked equally barbaric, bearing daggers and swords—prepared to kill. Even the smallest of youths held dangerously sharp knives. It didn’t take a wise old sorcerer to know these people were merciless and trained from birth to show no sympathy to those they encountered.
“What’s the plan now?” Kale whispered.
“We’ve gotta’ keep movin’. We’re too close to the entrance; someone’s bound to spot us,” Illadar warned.
“Look, there.” Thomas pointed far down the row of buildings.
At the end was the tallest structure in the entire bandit village. It was the only building made of stone, which to them, insinuated that someone worthy of protection lived inside. They inched along the back walls, careful to remain concealed in the shadows. Up close, the stone house appeared even taller. There were two floors, which was impressive for a dese
rt village filled with degenerate bandits.
“This must be the place. We need to get inside.” Kale quietly spoke while scanning the building from their hidden location.
Illadar peeked around the wall and spotted an open window hole. “How foolish to go to such lengths to build a stone structure, then leave it vulnerable with an openin’. I’m going for a look. Stay here.” He crouched low and made way for the window. Light flickered from within and Illadar peered over the edge, looking in at a row of lanterns. He quickly ducked down and listened. No voices could be heard. “I don’t think anyone is inside.” Illadar motioned Thomas and Kale to follow. “We’re gonna’ have to take the chance and crawl in. If luck is on our side, the leader will be with the guards, investigating the explosion. Unlike most nobles or lords, bandit leaders fight alongside their people. They take pride in the killing blow. They’re usually the strongest and most brutal of the clan. Let’s move now before it’s too late.”
Kale slipped through the hole first to ensure the room was clear. Thomas was next, followed by Illadar who struggled to pull his muscular body through. The room was filled with elaborate wall decorations and many colorfully painted masks were displayed in a line. Trinkets of all shapes and sizes were piled upon shelves that circled the entire room. Thomas winced as he looked upon a table with many human skulls—some so fresh that flesh still clung onto the bone.
“We should find cover before anyone returns. An ambush is our best option. We’ll wait until he is alone and catch him by surprise,” Thomas suggested.
“Let’s go upstairs. There isn’t anywhere for all three of us to hide here,” Kale advised as he carefully took his first step.
A loud creak pierced the silence and Illadar swiftly reached out to grip Kale’s shoulder. “Watch it, kid. We don’t know what’s up there. Tread lightly with each step,” he whispered.
Kale nodded and took his next steps with caution. They reached the second floor and immediately investigated their surroundings, which appeared clear from bandits. To their delight, the room was divided into three sections; an area to rest, an area where many weapons were stored upon racks, and an area with many maps scattered about. Each section was separated with a thick burlap cloth which could easily conceal all three. They huddled into the section with many maps, assuming it would be the least desired room should a group of bandits return. As they sat in silence, with weapons drawn, they heard a muffled sound from nearby. Another moment passed before they realized the noise sounded distinctly like crying—and it came from the very room they were in.
Chapter 10: Gone
Kale looked at Thomas and Illadar in silence, yet they easily read his gestures and knew curiosity had gotten the best of him.
Illadar placed a heavy hand upon Kale’s shoulder to ensure he didn’t attempt anything foolish. He then carefully glanced around the curtain, pausing momentarily to listen closely for the sound. His eyes locked upon a brown chest and it became clear someone was inside.
“It sounds like a child. This could very well be a trap,” Illadar softly whispered. “Maybe we should take the risk though—what if it really is a child locked inside?”
“Have you seen the children in this town? The kid probably has a dagger drawn, prepared to slit our throats the moment that lid lifts,” Kale replied.
Thomas and Illadar gave Kale a firm look.
“All right, let’s open the chest. If I’m right—don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Kale stubbornly rested his sword upon his shoulder with a look of disapproval.
Just as the three emerged from the curtain, a door slammed below, causing them to dash back into hiding. Footsteps thundered up the creaking stairs, and loud breathing could be heard.
“A-right young wench, my men be takin’ care of the mess outside. Now it’s time to deal with ye’—no one attacks my village without payin’ with their head. I suspect ye’ had somethin’ ta’ do with this direct assault. It be no coincidence that ye’ show up, sneakin’ into the home of our clan and shortly after we’re ambushed with a clever attack—yet, no enemies are found. I be inclined to think that ye’ know where they are darlin’.”
They could hear a clang, followed by the creaking of what they knew to be the large wooden trunk opening. A tiny yelp could be heard, before an obvious struggle.
“I guess this means I’ll have ta’ open those little lips with me blade. Maybe then you’ll talk.” The man cackled in his own amusement of the situation.
“Please don’t hurt me! I haven’t done anything wrong! I had no idea this was a bandit village—I only wanted a place to rest for the night.” The young female voice stifled sobs as she spoke.
A loud clap echoed against the stone walls, followed by a cry of pain from the young girl.
“That’s enough!” Illadar ripped the curtain to the side and stormed forward toward the thick, burly man. “She’s just a child, you worthless scum.” His claymore swung forward, nearly knocking into the many items surrounding them.
“Illadar, no, we need him alive!” Kale demanded.
The child scrambled in fear, gripping onto Thomas’s robes for protection. In the other hand, she held tightly onto a large bag that sagged heavily to her side.
“There, there, dear, it will be all right.” Thomas stroked her curly raven hair. “Apprehend him quickly.” Thomas’s expression grew serious. “We must get this child to safety.”
Illadar’s momentary delay in action cost him the upper advantage and the large man dove atop his body, knocking him back onto the floor.
While Thomas ensured the child was safely at a distance from the two men, Kale seized the opportunity and gripped the bandit leader by the back of his neck. Despite the man’s thick size, he contorted backward in agony as his flesh sizzled. The scent was sickening and caused the young girl to bury her face into Thomas’s side.
Illadar wasted no time and shoved the blade of his claymore beneath the man’s chin.
“We know who you are, Beshin, leader of the Imbola Clan. You will come with us,” Kale commanded.
Beshin laughed, running an arm across his sweat-filled beard. “Ye’ realize that once we leave this building, the others will cut ye’ down before ye’ can take a step forward. There’s no escaping here, ye’ fools.”
“We will leave this filthy waste heap, if you care to see tomorrow.” Kale found amusement in his words, for he knew they were leading the vile man to an inevitable demise with the sand-people.
“I fear not ta’ die, ye’ halfwits,” the man spat in anger.
“Then I suppose you won’t mind if I scald the rest of you. We only need you alive—no one said it had to be as you are now.” Kale smirked and extended his arm toward Beshin’s excessively hairy leg.
“A-right, a-right; I’ll do whatever ye’ inferior maggots want—for now. Turn your back for a moment though, and you’ll be bathin’ in yer own intestines.” Beshin laughed, revealing the few remaining teeth in his mouth, which barely clung onto his blackened gums.
Illadar bound Beshin’s arms tightly behind the bandit’s back and sheathed his claymore. He borrowed Thomas’s dagger and pressed the edge firmly against Beshin’s neck. “Let’s get this over with,” Illadar firmly spoke and nudged the bandit to walk. “Start movin’.”
They made their way to the first floor and prepared for the onslaught they knew was to come. Kale gripped his sword, and Thomas sheltered the young girl under an arm. Illadar released a long sigh before kicking open the wooden door.
In an instant, fingers directed toward them from all directions and in a matter of seconds, they were encircled by vicious looking men with blood-stained weapons drawn.
“Keep back! We’re taking him with us. Do not attempt to stop us if you value your lives.” Kale raised his sword.
To Kale’s surprise, not a single bandit halted. They c
rept closer, displaying their rotting smiles as laughter filled the air.
“I don’t think they have any concern for your threats.” Illadar dug the dagger deeper against Beshin’s throat.
This sent the bandits into a frenzy, and chaos erupted in all directions. A group of enemy men lunged toward Kale, snarling in anger. It was clear that while they didn’t fear for their own lives, they wanted Beshin alive. It reminded Kale of a frantic hive of bees attempting to save their queen.
Kale flicked his eyes to both sides in order to ensure he was clear from harming his comrades. With a loud growl of animalistic force, he sliced his blade across the oncoming bodies. Their flesh split open like an overstuffed pillow that burst at the seams. In a spew of crimson slush, their intestines spattered onto the ground.
Female and children bandits cheered the others on from the safety of their homes.
In the midst of commotion, Beshin boldly slammed his backside into Illadar. The motion forced Illadar’s dagger to slice into his neck before he lost momentary control of the weapon at the sudden movement. In the brief moment Illadar took to strengthen his grip upon the weapon, Beshin spun out of his hold.
“Stop him!” Kale shouted while deflecting attacks from the surrounding bandits. In Kale’s favor, the bandits, though trained to kill, were not highly skilled in combat tactics. They recklessly swung their weapons with the sole desire to murder and destroy. The sight of them reminded Kale of Jedah—the one man he still loathed above all others.
Illadar was now fighting against a group of ruthless bandits, while struggling to close in on the direction of Beshin. “Bloody hell, I’m gonna’ lose him!”
Thomas firmly pressed his lips together, quickly analyzing the situation. His eyes locked onto Beshin who scurried through the crowd toward the weapon rack. Beshin’s hands had been freed, and now, he appeared determined to slaughter all intruders.