The Black Sword Trilogy: The Poacher

by VanMeter, Jeffery

  The encampment was large and spread out. This was Grail’s doing, Krall imagined. By having the army more spread out, they could avoid losses in case of a sneak attack. The creatures all slept on the ground in small groups, like army companies. Each had two guards watching and likely in shifts, Krall thought. Throughout the night, he would lie low next to these formations and then every hour, each company would have a change of guard. It was then that he would move as the guards weren’t paying as much attention. Even if they did notice, they would only see the silhouette of another animal and it would smell like one of their own.

  He moved to the north; the opposite direction the army had been moving for the last week. He had been following them since leaving the hide at a safe distance, but allowed himself to be captured in order to gain more information. Now that he had what he wanted, it was time to leave and continue his mission.

  Almost to the edge of the camp, he found a horse tied to a post next to a solitary tent. There was a company of Wolfen nearby and most of them were sleeping; except for the watch. This horse was just what he needed, but he needed to be swift and silent about getting it. He moved as silently as he could, but then heard a Wolfen voice call out to him.

  “Oi! Who goes there?”

  “What do you want?” He said in his best imitation of a Wolfen voice.

  “What company are you with?”

  Krall said nothing. He tried to stay calm as he knew that a Wolfen would be able to hear his heart beating faster.

  “Speak quickly, scum!” The Wolfen called to him. He saw both the guards stand up and begin to approach.

  “I’m taking a dump!” He called to them. “Is that alright with you?”

  The two animals laughed and then sat back down.

  He snuck up to the horse and untied it. It made a noise as if alarmed, but then he soothed it by rubbing its neck and snout. He looked over at the guards who turned their heads, but nothing more. Fortunately for Krall, the horse was already saddled. He climbed into the saddle, urged the horse on and then flew as fast as possible in the direction of the bridge at Serace.

  He didn’t get far before he heard a Wolfen howl. Surely that could only mean that his victims had been discovered, Krall believed. He only stopped for a brief moment and then continued on.

  Inside the camp, there was confusion. General Grail, still amazed and shocked at his brother’s escape had set the entire camp to look for him. However, when he heard the news that one of his soldiers had been skinned and a horse stolen, he knew that finding his brother would now be even more difficult. He called together a company of Wolfen and ordered them to hunt, find and kill Krall.

  “May we eat his flesh?” One of the beasts asked him.

  At first Grail felt sickened by the thought, but he also knew that his soldiers were beginning to become even harder to control.

  “Yes,” he told them. “Leave no trace of him behind.”

  Just before dawn, Krall reached the bridge at Serace. He had discarded his disguise along the way, intentionally leaving it for the creatures to follow. He knew that when they found it, the animals would spend, at least a few minutes smelling it and looking for a trail. It would give him that much longer to get away from them. Reaching the bridge, he then dismounted the horse turned it around and sent it back towards the Wolfen. He hated to think of the Wolfen attacking, killing and eating this creature, but if they did, it would slow them down even more.

  He knew that the Wolfen would assume that he would cross the bridge. He crossed to the middle of the bridge and then dove into the river. He knew the monsters would pursue his scent to the bridge; but then likely become confused when he apparently disappeared. He swam to the near side of the bridge, to the rivers bank and hid among the reeds.

  Before long, a pack of six Wolfen did come running to the bridge. They had arrived sooner than he expected and he thought to his relief that they had left the horse alone. They crossed to the middle and then looked around confused; just as Krall had predicted.

  “He can’t have disappeared.” One of the animals said to the rest of the pack. “He must have crossed here.”

  “Maybe he jumped off.” Another growled.

  “That’s stupid,” the pack leader said in his growling voice. “He and that horse must have crossed the bridge. They’re probably half way to Beyton by now.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?”

  They then all barked and howled and ran across the bridge. Watching from the water’s edge he could see them running at full speed along the opposite river bank. He waited for a few a little while longer while the sun rose and then climbed out of the water. He then crossed the bridge; but instead of following the road next to the river bank, he went into the thick brush along the side of the road.

  Feeling far enough away from the river to be safe, but not too far to be lost, he took off his wet clothes and hung them among the brush and short trees. He had no food or water, but knew that to be the least of his problems at that moment.

  He let himself sleep for a while. Even if the Wolfen came back, he reasoned he might be able to fend them off and escape by climbing a tree. As he sat in the bushes, he heard noises coming from the road. They were sounds of people and animals; voices speaking, the wheels of carts on the dirt and horses hooves. These must be the refugees from Calderon, Krall reasoned.

  Putting his dry clothes back on, he made his way down to the road and saw a line of people stretching as far as he could see in both directions along the road. There were men wearing soldier’s uniforms walking along with the ordinary people that he guessed were the reserve guard he’d ordered activated. There were other men on horses and more than a few carts carrying people and material.

  “Oi!” A soldier called to him. “Best get back in with the rest of them. It’s not good to get too far off the road.”

  Krall thought briefly about identifying himself to the soldier; but then reconsidered. He thought that it might be a good idea at the moment to simply move along with the rest of the refugees. He joined the rest and moved along with the flow of people moving.

  Throughout the day, the people moved slowly, but steadily along the river road. Occasionally, soldiers on horseback would ride down the middle in one direction or the other; but for the most part the only soldiers to be seen were the ones walking along the sides of the road, keeping everyone in line.

  Twice during the day, the refugees stopped to rest and eat. Donkeys and carts carrying food and barrels of water came down the middle of the road and were portioned out in equal measure to everyone. All of the people had cups and plates of their own. When a soldier saw that Krall had neither, he gave him a cup, plate and flatware from off of one of the carts.

  “Don’t lose these.” He told Krall.

  After sundown, the people were made to camp along the sides of the road. Most, Krall saw had to rest and eventually sleep on the ground. However, Krall could see some tents pop up on both sides of the road. Some people made small campfires. Some had jugs of ale or bottles of wine that they shared among themselves. Krall himself was satisfied to be by himself; however a small group he thought to be a family invited him to join them.

  “No one should be alone on a trip like this.” Said a man presenting him a bottle of wine. He filled Krall’s cup and motioned for him to sit down. He was surrounded by two women; one young and one older and several children.

  “This is very kind of you,” Krall said to him. “I’m afraid I’m not exactly dressed for company.”

  The family laughed.

  “I’m afraid none of us are.” The older woman replied.

  Krall sat, drank and spoke with the man and his family for most of the evening. The man was a merchant who owned a general store originally from Mobrey; but had moved to Calderon in search of a new start for himself and his family.

  “There’s probably a hundred general stores on every street in Mobrey.” He told Krall. “In Calderon, I was the only one on my side of town.”
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  “Were you doing well before the evacuation?” Krall asked him.

  “Very well indeed. That was before the city was ordered to evacuate.”

  The man looked depressed for a moment then took another drink of his wine.”

  “I’m sure your store will still be there when you get back.” Krall said trying to cheer him up.

  The man looked up, smiled and said, “even if it’s not, I can build another one. I can’t do that if I’m dead, can I?”

  The next morning, Krall decided it was time to move on. He almost ran up the middle of the road trying to get to the front. The people were still busy breaking camp and hadn’t started moving yet. At the head of the line, he found several police; whom he identified by the sash across their breast plates, breaking down a tent.

  “Where is your chief?” he asked them. One of the soldier pointed and Krall found the chief of police talking with one of the citizens. The chief looked over and identified Krall.

  “Captain!” he called to him.

  “Good morning chief.” Krall responded and then shook his hand. “You’ve done a fine job here.” He told the Chief.

  “The people have been in good spirits for the most part,” The Chief told him. “Naturally, they’re not thrilled to have evacuated the city; but they mostly understand that it was necessary. What happened at the fort?”

  Krall responded by shaking his head sadly. The Chief gave him a look that seemed to say that he understood.

  “What now?” He asked Krall.

  “I have vital information that has to get to the King.” Krall answered.

  The Chief nodded and then motioned over to a man holding the reins of a horse.

  “You can take my horse,” he told Krall.

  Krall shook the man’s hand and mounted the horse.

  “Have your soldiers keep a sharp eye out,” Krall said before he rode away. “There’s a pack of six Wolfen somewhere along the road.”

  “Not anymore.” The Chief answered him proudly. “We killed them yesterday morning before breakfast.”

  Krall rode for two days and rested himself and his horse at night. He was able to go without food and water was easy to get from the river. On the morning of the third day, he reached Beyton, bought some apples from a vendor, feeding himself and his mount. He crossed the river to Mobrey and began to look for an inn or tavern to spend one night, have a decent meal and rest before the final ride to Kallesh. When he stepped off the ferry; however several soldiers approached him.

  “Are you Captain Krall?” They asked him.

  “Yes,” He said curiously.

  The soldiers then formed a circle around him, one of them taking the horse. The company’s captain then stepped up to him with his hand on his sword.

  “Captain Krall,” He said with authority. “You are under arrest.”

  Chapter Thirty Six

  The “Iron Gates” loomed large over Kenner as he entered the city of Kallesh. Grinning from ear to ear, Kenner couldn’t help but laugh at the irony that he was actually happy to be entering the city his father had warned him so much about. More than that, he also laughed at the irony that he was entering of his own free will. The last time he had entered these gates, he was a prisoner believing that he would die here. Suddenly he remembered his cousins and the fate that had befallen them. As the enormous cat strode into the busy streets, he said a silent prayer of thanks and of memory of the cousins he had lost.

  As he strode into the bustling streets, several soldiers approached him.

  “You there!” one called out to him. “How dare you come into this city armed!”

  The huge cat growled and the soldiers backed away. Kenner climbed off of Shela and put his hands in the air, almost as if surrendering.

  “I am a soldier of Walechia.” He answered them. “I have information for the king.”

  “You too?” One of the soldiers questioned him.

  A wonderful thought then occurred to Kenner: at least one of his companions had made it.

  He let the soldiers lead him to the palace at the base of the Great Tower. Everyone in the street backed away from the cat giving Kenner and the other soldiers plenty of room.

  “Your…mount,” one of the soldiers said uncomfortably, “will have to stay outside.”

  Shela growled with displeasure, but Kenner rubbed her neck reassuringly.

  “Don’t fuss, old girl.” He told her.

  Kenner was led through the crowded halls of the palace he remembered from, what felt like years before. Everything was still the same. The floors were still polished to a high shine. The statues still stood dramatically beside pillars of white marble and a thousand voices still sounded as if speaking at once. Suddenly one voice shouted above the rest.

  “You bastard!” Kenner heard.

  Looking about, he soon saw Terri running towards him.

  “This time I am going to kiss you.” She said embracing him. She then kissed him hard on the cheek.

  “Careful,” Kenner said laughing. “You may grow to like it.”

  “Not with that shaggy beard.” She said, still holding on to him.

  Still holding on to his shoulders, Terri pushed him away to have a better look at his face. She couldn’t believe it was really him; Kenner. She grabbed his face with both of her hands as if touching it made it more real.

  “You bastard.” She said again. “You wonderful, wonderful bastard.”

  Looking over him more carefully, she noticed the shiny, black armor he was wearing.

  “Where did you get this?” She said, amazed.

  “Oh do I have some stories to tell you.” He said, still laughing.

  “I’ve got some stories of my own to tell.” She answered him.

  “I bet you do.”

  She then turned him around and placed her arm around his shoulder.

  “What we need is a good stiff drink.” She told him.

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Terri led Kenner to a tavern near the palace. It smelled of stale ale and tobacco and was full of people in different stages of drunkenness. Upon entering, a large man stood in front of Kenner.

  “Your sword,” he said in a deep, powerful voice. Not thinking, Kenner took the sword off of his back and tried to hand it to the man. He screamed in pain and dropped the sword on the ground. The sword then leapt off of the ground and back into Kenner’s hands. Terri looked at Kenner in shock.

  “That’s quite a blade you’ve got there.” She said to him.

  “You don’t know the half of it.” He answered, smiling.

  “What is it, the Black Sword?” She asked as a joke.

  Kenner responded with a serious expression.

  “No!” She almost yelled. “It can’t be!”

  “I’m afraid it is.” He said.

  “Now I really need a drink.”

  The two found an empty table, sat and Terri ordered drinks. A few moments later, a buxom barmaid arrived with two glasses half full of brown liquid. Kenner took a casual drink and nearly coughed it back up. It was so strong, he could taste it in his nose and his eyes and it gave a burning sensation as it traveled its way down his throat.

  “What the hell is that?” He coughed.

  “Malt whiskey.” Terri answered plainly. Terri took a sip from her own glass. “Twelve years old, by the taste of it.”

  Kenner’s throat burned and tears starting welling up in his eyes.

  “You could have warned me that it was going to defend itself.”

  “A person’s first taste of malt whiskey should be like his or her first night of passion; scary, painful, too quick, but ultimately leaving you thirsty for more.” Terri said, taking another sip.

  “I wouldn’t know.” Kenner answered, wiping tears from his eyes.

  “Wouldn’t know what?” Terri asked with a playful glint in her eyes.

  “Never mind.” Kenner said quickly.

  “Wouldn’t know what a night of passion is like? Is that what you sa
id?”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  Terri’s eyes widened and her entire face beamed.

  “You mean to tell me you’re a virgin?” She almost shouted.

  “Would you mind keeping it down?” Kenner said, almost in a panic.

  “The great warrior, Kenner? Wielder of the Black Sword? An apple that hasn’t been plucked?”

  “I’m going to hit you in a second.”

  Terri then stood up, as if at attention. She gave a military salute and called out, “All hail Kenner, the chaste!”

  Kenner then grabbed her and pulled her, laughing back down to her chair. She laughed out loud and Kenner, after a moment laughed too.

  The two of them sat drinking and talking until the sun disappeared from the door. Terri told her story of the Blackwoods, the Wolfen, sleeping in trees and finding the Blackwood Bow. She also told of the beautiful Lady of the Woods that she thought she might be falling in love with.

  “Do you think, maybe she feels the same way about you?” Kenner asked her. He’d had three ales by this point as was feeling much more comfortable.