Sword of Ruyn

by R. G. Long

  “After we made it to Ruyn I offered to set him up with a decent paying job at a metalworker’s workshop that I was familiar with, but when the time came for us to meet the head blacksmith, the young boy was gone. Vanished. I tried asking about his whereabouts, but no one knew what had happened to him. The idea of working for a blacksmith must not have been what he had in mind. I can only hope he’s well. It’s been twenty long winters since that fateful voyage when I ran into the wealthy man's son. I wonder whatever became of him. Eric Silverwind, the boy I found in a barrel."

  After his story was completed, the bread eaten, and the single candle that had lit the messy and cluttered house was extinguished, three of the four occupants of the house went to sleep.

  Ealrin, as he laid his head down on what may have been a couch for sitting before it had become a library shelf for three dozen books, thought of Soltack’s story and wondered: How much control does one have over their fate? And how much is decided by chance? A little boy being kidnapped and nearly killed, then fleeing any care he may have received. Was fate to blame for his family's death? Was he in charge of his life’s goal to avenge his murdered father now?

  And what of Ealrin? Was it fate that brought him to Good Harbor? Did fate cause a man to steal a locket?

  As he eyed Holve, who was sitting at the table, keeping watch in the night, he wondered what decisions he had yet to make that would be his own. And which would happen to him by chance? And he wondered, if just for a moment, what that comet in the sky meant also.

  8: Thief Tracking

  The morning suns had not yet spread their light on the house when Roland shook Ealrin awake.

  "You snore my friend. Quite impressively so." Roland moved to gather the rest of his belongings, a pack as well as his assortment of weapons. After stowing everything into his pack or his harness he turned to Ealrin again. "We'd best get a move on before we lose track of our man's trail."

  Ealrin tried to rise quickly, but his body protested at every move. He was still not completely well, and his soreness was trying to remind him of that fact. Stubbornness would not allow him to give up so quickly and he soon found himself outside of the house, taking in the morning air.

  Holve was standing outside, surveying the hills, the forest, and the mountain range as Roland and Ealrin came up behind him. He handed Ealrin a piece of bread and a cup of water.

  "Breakfast. Best be light if we are to keep a good pace today."

  Ealrin ate quickly, and before he was quite awake or ready, they were on the move.

  Perhaps it was because he was too tired to notice, but Ealrin’s bones and muscles didn’t seem to scream in protest as much this morning. It could have been the coolness of the spring air, but his ribs didn’t seem to bother him as they had yesterday. He knew it had nothing to do with the stacks of books he slept on last night as his back was letting him know that his mattress had been made of uneven leather bound volumes.

  As Holve and Roland jogged silently beside him, Ealrin began to think out loud the thoughts that had kept him from wanting to stop the pursuit last night.

  “Suppose the thief has had ample time to escape? Or has found some hiding place that will take us weeks to discover?”

  Roland answered him, “Ealrin, I’ve known Holve here far longer than I’d care to admit, for it would betray my winters. If there is a man who can escape his keen sense of tracking, then he is no man but a demon or a lesser god!”

  Well then. Roland obviously thought much about Holve’s abilities. But would he truly be able to find a man who had a full night’s time to run and hide, and perhaps dispose of his treasure in order to claim his innocence?

  Ealrin kept these thoughts to himself. He supposed that he would just have to see how able of a tracker his new friend truly was.

  WHEN THEY REACHED THE Lonely Pass, the light of the morning had just begun to pierce through the darkness. Ealrin’s eyes had adjusted to the dim light around him and he could see the path that led through the forest.

  Presently, Holve was bent on one knee, investigating a particularly interesting patch of dirt. Or so it seemed to Ealrin. After a moment or two of study, Holve stood up and declared,

  “He’s definitely gone through the pass. Perhaps to hide in Everstand or the caves on the northern side of the mountains.”

  “We’ll know soon enough,” said Roland.

  And the three men began to jog through the shaded pass, a dirt trail flanked by trees and mountains. The trees were tall and provided excellent cover from the sky. With ease their mighty branches covered the path so that if a rain had come over the pass, one could be well sheltered from it for an afternoon at least. The trees stood thick as well. It was impossible to see further than a stone’s throw into the dense brush. Ealrin assumed that at some point the rocky mountain rose out of the forest, but the only evidence of this was that mountain that rose above the forest from the outside. Now that they were in the pass, there was no way to tell that a mountain stood on both the right and left.

  Ealrin thought that any place along this path would have been an excellent place to hide for a thief. But he could also understand the reasoning for not going through the pass last night. If the thief had wanted, he could have waited in ambush for his pursuers. Being so outnumbered, he could never hope to face them alone. However, the forest would have given anyone an advantage to either losing someone following you or ambushing a potential attacker. Considering this, Ealrin became uneasy about their pursuit through the woods.

  Yet Holve and Roland blazed on, neither speaking much. Both had the expression of determination on their faces. They were hunting someone who had wronged a friend and were not going to let him escape without being brought to justice. He was glad to have such men beside him now, but he still wondered.

  What if he was a thief who had stolen away on a boat? Or perhaps stole a coat of a man named Ealrin Bealouve and was now parading himself as him? Could the loss of his memory have affected his character in some way?

  He felt that now he desired to do right, and find a thief to repay the kindness shown to him. Would he have done so before the shipwreck that left him without a past?

  Again, his thoughts were interrupted when Holve stopped abruptly. He held out a hand to signal that Ealrin and Roland should stop as well. Holve sniffed as if trying to pick up a scent. He breathed the air in deeply.

  Ealrin breathed deeply through his nose as well. He smelled the pollen of the trees, the flowers that were coming into bloom in the early spring. He smelled the morning breeze moving through the pass. The dirt that was packed down on the path invaded his nostrils and a bit of animal that may be close by wondering why these intruders were so close to its home.

  Ealrin smelled nothing that would tell him a thief lurked nearby.

  “He stopped here last night.” Holve said in the stillness.

  And the stillness is what grabbed Ealrin. Though they were in a forest, which should have had any number of wildlife in it, there was almost completely silence. No songbird made its cry heard. No animal scampered in the underbrush. It was completely still.

  Holve moved slowly over to a tree that was just a few steps off the path. He knelt down to examine the grass as well as the trunk of the old tree. He felt the ground with one hand, smoothly touching the grass with his fingertips.

  “He’s not far ahead. He overslept.”

  And with that the three were on the move again.

  How could a man sense the presence of another just by observing the ground where his body lay? Nothing about that particular patch of brush and grass told Ealrin anything other than that the forest was alive there. To Holve, however, it spoke wonders.

  And so the chase continued.

  THE THREE SOON CAME to the end of Lonely Pass, and indeed it had been lonely. Though they had traveled for the entire morning through the forest and trod their feet on every length of the path, they had not encountered another living thing. No animal had crossed their path and no person
had walked on the road going the opposite direction. From what Ealrin could tell, there were no others coming up behind on the road either.

  What caused this path to be so lightly traveled, Ealrin wondered.

  As they broke free of the canopy of trees, the three found themselves looking down a path that continued on to the sea. The windy road made its way down hills and over the plains, finally coming to an end at what Ealrin thought may have once been a mighty city.

  What lay there now were the ruins of many buildings and in the center, a tower that was standing by a sheer act of defiance. The walls of the city stood only in certain places. There were several places with breaches that exposed the ruins within. This city had not given in to the never-ending fight of time and erosion.

  This city had fallen during a time of war.

  Roland walked forward from the tree a bit, staring at the ruins, then turned to face Ealrin.

  “Welcome, to the proud ruins of Everstand and The Tower of Pallum."

  9: Everstand

  Everstand. The arrogance and irony of the name were not lost on Ealrin. Certainly whoever had built this city had been certain it could withstand any attack. That it would stand the test of any army that came against it and prevail for ages after. And why shouldn’t it have? The mountains from which its rock came from stood close by and would provide a near limitless supply of materials to repair and continually add to the city.

  Now Ealrin could see that a road had once existed that was flat and would have made transporting the stones easy. The city was built upon a cliff that overlooked the sea. It would have been easily defensible, for its massive wall only needed to protect its eastern side. All other parts of the city stood on the cliff, which would have been nearly impossible to scale without being mercilessly attacked from above.

  The lands before them were fertile and good. The plains were green with the new spring. Ealrin guessed that crops would have easily grown and been able to sustain a city of its size. In fact, the land was abundant and could have provided stores of food and supplies should the mighty city come under siege.

  Yet the city had fallen.

  As the three approach the ruins, which Holve believed now housed their thief, Ealrin was lost in thought about how the walled and stoned city could have fallen. The Tower of Pallum stood tall, but the battle that had brought down the city had left its mark on the staggering tower. Ealrin guessed it stood taller than any tree they had passed in the forest, though it was blackened and charred by a fire that had also consumed a large portion of the city. Parts of the stones were cracked in areas, and in some parts of the tower there were large holes, not caused by any storm or natural causes, Ealrin knew.

  “What calamity could have happened here to cause such a city to fall?” asked Ealrin after they had passed through what was once a mighty entrance.

  The huge metal gates that would have served as a strong deterrent to any invaders had fallen to the side, mangled in a heap. The wood of the mighty doors that would have been the more decorative, and yet quite sturdy, barrier to the city lay fallen and charred. In some places there were massive holes where a catapults’ rocks may have smashed it to splinters.

  It was Holve who answered Ealrin’s question. Roland’s eyes were constantly surveying the path on which they walked, looking for the signs of any recent passing of the man they still hunted.

  “Everstand was a mighty city, once. The stories about it say that it was a bustling trade center for the Southern Republic. It heralded merchants from Redact, Irradan, and as far as the Holy Empire itself. It was a beacon of light, a wonderful place of ideas being shared and the bounty of the land blessing those who came to visit.

  “And then the goblins came.”

  At this Holve’s face went dark. His furrowed brow deepened and his eyes became narrow. Ealrin tried to place what that face meant. He guessed the only thing he could think of. It was the face of one who had seen great death. One who had known a great tragedy.

  “Everstand was built to resist attack. Its founders knew that the goblin lands were close to its borders. But the Southern Republic at that time had expanded into the Goblin Maw. The city was not the last fortified city between The Elders of the Republic and the gray beasts. But the goblins had united under a new leader. A shaman who had learned about the deeper mysteries of rimstone and its power. It was said that he was in control of a demon host, a mystic artifact that was possessed by a legion of demons that desired destruction and death.

  “By the tens of thousands the goblins came through the Maw. Their numbers were vastly underestimated by the Republic. They had hidden in the mountains, breeding like insects in the darkness. Under their new leader, they attacked. The expeditions into the Maw were wiped out in less than a month. Having stolen the boats and vessels that had once brought explorers and merchants, they added to their fleet of goblin made craft and came across the waters of the Forean Sea.

  “With numbers like they had, it made no difference how thick or how high the walls had been built. From the Great Tower they watched the goblins sail towards them. They sent word as quickly as they could to the Elders, but to no avail.

  "The ships that came to aid the city found only bodies, both goblins and men alike. After the great city had fallen the goblins turned on themselves, made with hate and a lust for violence from the demon host. Their great leader could do little to quell the rage of his army. They destroyed themselves on the island after having destroyed every person they could. The only reason Good Harbor stands today was due to the Lonely Pass. Men were able to cause an avalanche large enough to block the goblin advance. With no one left to kill, they turned on themselves. For some reason they didn’t get in their boats and sail to the mainland. I’ve never been one to understand the goblin mind. All they wanted was death on this island and the presence of man wiped from their lands.”

  Holve’s tale ended with his teeth gritted in anger, as if he had actually been there to witness the slaughter. Ealrin could tell that his friend had no compassion for the gray ones. Those who face the horde of gray hardly ever do.

  The three had walked through the city streets while listening to Holve’s tale of its destruction. Ealrin saw at every turn some efforts to clean the city, but not to restore it. Goblin weapons lay in charred piles. The metal had rusted and pieces of wood that had not completely burned were rotted from exposure. There were no bodies lining the streets now, as Ealrin supposed there must have been when the siege had actually taken place. A mass grave lay less than a stone’s throw from the city walls. Humans, elves, and dwarves were buried with dignity. The goblins were piled and burned.

  As the three came close to the tower, Ealrin peered into the door of a house that once must have been a beautiful building that could have held several families in its walls. He walked up the path to the door that was still on its hinges despite the damage time and the battle had done.

  The dagger that planted itself into the wood of the door sailed so close to his head that he had felt the very air split as the thud resounded throughout the house.

  For all their searching, instead of the trio finding the thief, he had found them.

  10: Justice

  As Ealrin spun on his heel, he saw the thief dart into another abandoned house across the road. Holve and Roland were already in a dead sprint, refusing to let him escape. It would still be three on one, not two as the thief had obviously intended.

  Ealrin burst through the doorway of the house the thief had ran into. He saw a stairway leading up to a second level, and heard scuffling above him. Without hesitating, he ran up the stairs. As he came to the top of them, he caught a glimpse of Holve with his dagger drawn, running out a door that led to an upper patio of the house. Ealrin could see Roland and the thief were already fighting outside. Roland had his sword drawn and was furiously exchanging blade hits with the thief who had a short sword. He was no older than Ealrin himself. His blonde hair was wet with perspiration, and his eyes were narrowed, not i
n hate, but something else. Was it fear?

  As Holve ran to them the thief saw that he, again, was going to be desperately outnumbered. He deflected a swing of Roland’s sword with his own, and then charged Holve, as if to tackle him. It was then that Ealrin could see what he was not sure Holve had: another blade the thief had drawn from his side and was aiming to throw at Holve before he crashed into him. Holve had his dagger drawn and was ready to receive the tackle, but not the second knife.

  It wasn’t more than a moment in which Ealrin reacted. Lacking a weapon, he threw the only thing he had at the thief: himself.

  As the man leapt into the air to drive at least one knife into Holve and perhaps take a sword into himself as well, Ealrin came and rammed his side with his shoulder. Hard.

  The thief was hit off his course, giving Holve the space he needed to jump aside and avoid the dagger that nearly cut his side. No longer in control of his body, the thief went crashing into the wall of the outside of the house and crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

  The trio stood over the thief. He lay in a crumpled mess against the outside wall of the patio. Ealrin knew the man was breathing, he could see his chest rise and fall in rhythm. And yet he also knew that when he came to, this man would have a terrible ache in his head.

  “He’s a young one,” said Roland, who had sheathed his sword.

  “No more winters than Ealrin here,” added Holve, who was now bending down over the man, removing the daggers from his limp hands and any other weapons he could find. Holve also saw that a small satchel was around the thief’s neck.

  "Oh, what have we here?" inquired Holve as he opened the small bag.

  Sure enough, Elezar’s locket was inside it, still whole and seemingly unharmed from its adventure. Ealrin was relieved.