Stand Short and Proud

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Stand Short and Proud Page 18

by Billy Wong


  "He might not have rejected Don at all," Agatha said. "From what I've heard of the man, he's erratic enough that he might find the idea of a metal bird champion too intriguing not to try out."

  Meg gawked. "You think he might have taken him in? Damn, that could make things difficult."

  "Only one way to find out," Gavin said. "If this is the case, let's hope we can convince His Majesty of the threat posed by that sword."

  After exiting back into the sunlight, Joel asked, "Why do you think that old man misled us the way he did?"

  Patrick shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe he was desperate for money, or hates the government for whatever reason and wished us ill. It's even possible it was an honest mistake, and having poor eyesight he mistook the dragon for a bird."

  "Are we going to try and get our money back?"

  "We did end up getting a hint where Don might be," Meg said, "so let's let bygones be bygones. It was just a small amount anyway, and I doubt he'd admit to deceiving us if he intentionally was."

  Gavin grumbled with a clenched fist, "Shit, I'd been looking forward to giving him a piece of my mind. But I suppose you might have the right idea not to squabble unnecessarily with the locals."

  They spoke with the town mayor and told him to be aware there was a dragon residing in the nearby mountains, though it didn't seem antagonistic towards humanity at present. Then they headed west towards the royal vacation home. On the road, Christopher mused, "Perhaps I should abandon my thoughts of revenge. It does seem increasingly like being obsessed with a single thing isn't the best way to go about life."

  "Hatred is one of the worse things to cling to," Meg agreed. "But are we ever going to learn what this vengeance would be for?"

  He took a deep breath. "All right. Since I might not have another chance to if this goes badly, may as well tell you. My father was a minor lord and ally of the Marquis of Fennes, already married with three children in myself and my sisters. One summer while staying at the Marquis' estate, he found out the noble esteemed for his valor in battle had been beating his wife. He tried to take the lady away from there, offering her refuge with our family. Before he could get far, the Marquis caught up and demanded he give her back or face his blade. My father refused and tried to fight! But he was no match for the accomplished warrior, who cut him down with little more resistance than a child. Ever since then, I've wanted nothing more than to get stronger, to gut the Marquis as he did my sire and avenge his death. That is the 'work' I wanted to become strong enough to do, not a job.

  "I know what some of you might be thinking—that he gave my father a chance to back down, and it was his choice to fight and die. But I didn't care. That hulking bully who dares call himself noble abused a helpless woman, and similarly imposed his will through brute force on my kind, learned, but unfortunately frail father. For many years I regarded him as the very embodiment of evil and dreamed every night of killing him. Yet maybe that was wrong. Meeting you and Patrick, who've taken many lives yet still don't take it lightly, made me realize I was immature to thirst so for another person's blood. The Marquis has children too, and I don't know the exact circumstances between him and his wife. He probably thought my father was trying to steal her from him, and viewed their fight more as a duel between men than cold blooded murder like I did. I also haven't heard of more misdeeds from him, though of course he might commit some in secret. But still, after all this time perhaps I should let the past go and be less adamant about causing others suffering to soothe my own."

  Meg bowed her head respectfully. "Meeting us taught you that? Huh, I wouldn't have thought us the most ideal role models, but good on you if we helped."

  "It still bothers me though to think about how hard I've striven to get stronger, only to discard the goal which drove me to do so."

  Well, it's not as if you're that strong, she thought but kept to herself. "I doubt it'll be hard to find another, better purpose to use that strength for. More immediately, let's hope what you've acquired will suffice to help you stay alive through the test to come."

  They trekked across wintry plains for many days, Joel and Rich occasionally quipping how all this might be a bit much for newer recruits. Christopher was too proud to question it though, and the rest of them had plenty of experience roaming the world. Meg did wonder if Taryn might have gotten back long before they would and be waiting for them.

  Eventually they came into view of a grand manor atop a hill, its facade covered with fanciful carvings of scenes from history and myth. Another plainer but still impressively large building stood off to the side, which Christopher theorized to serve as a stable. "I don't see any guards," he said. "It would be absurd if the king still didn't give himself protection this close to the border."

  "They're probably just hiding," Agatha replied. "As flighty as your ruler can be, I'm sure his advisors wouldn't stand for him being out here alone considering all the issues we've had with our neighbors to the south." An alliance of forces from there calling themselves the One Nation had attempted to invade the northern lands twice in the last five years, after all.

  "At least it's on a hill this time," Rich observed, "and not one of those outer islands like the one which broke off the continent with the king's old home."

  "Those islands falling was a rare occurrence until the near calamity little over a year ago. So for building there at least, you can't fault your royal family much."

  Climbing the hill, they knocked on the manor's heavy front doors. They yawned open to reveal a lazy-eyed man in his forties flanked by two armored companions, another taller one with long hair whose breastplate sported an ornate lion's head behind him. So there were guards here, thankfully. "Ah, visitors!" the robed man said excitedly. He raked his gaze up and down Meg's body. "And one rather young and nubile one too... though I must resist, as another holds sole dominion over my heart of hearts." She blinked at his almost purposeful-seeming oddity. "Now, what can I do for you today?"

  "We'd like to speak with the king," Meg said without thinking, then added, "or anyone who could inform us about what's been happening around here, actually."

  "You are in luck. I am the king."

  She recoiled. In a place where she assumed there would be no shortage of servants, she didn't expect to first be greeted by the monarch himself. "I-I had no idea! My apologies for not being more respectful, Your Majesty."

  "Ah, that is fine. A king is merely a servant of his people. For young beauties like yourself, I shan't overstate my lofty rank."

  "Uh, thank you. If we may then, can we ask if you've seen a giant metal bird?"

  Alarm flashed through his eyes, which he blinked away not quickly enough to escape notice. "What, a metal bird? Birds are not made of metal, unless you mean some contraption from Ostuh. Are they running experiments in my kingdom without my permission?"

  "That's not what we meant," Agatha said. "I'm here from Ostuh, but with your permission I'm fairly sure, or at least your council's approval. Anyway, we're looking for what appears to be an enormous hawk with skin of metal and a similarly sized sword, which was changed into such from a teenage boy. He could be very dangerous given the power that transformed him, for it also created the legendary monster called the Night Emperor an ancestor of Saint General Julianna battled long ago. If you've heard him speak, he might've talked about living up to the rich history of Plasbias or himself being its champion."

  "No, I have never even heard of such a thing. A sword-wielding bird that talks about heroes? If I didn't know better, I might think you were trying to play a joke."

  Meg felt very suspicious, especially since Agatha hadn't mentioned Don's inclination to wax poetic about Plasbias' heroic figures. But if King Rudolph didn't want to divulge his secrets, they couldn't very well force him. "Are you sure you've seen nothing at all that might be related?" she asked in a token last effort. Maybe if she got him to make up some ill thought out lie, it could still give them a clue.

  "No, we are quite free of giant metal hawks a
round here. Is there anything else?"

  "No. Thank you for taking the time to answer us, Your Majesty, and fare thee well." The king turned away and his guards began to close the doors, Meg disappointed that they'd failed to get information from him. On the other hand, his behavior indicated he had made contact with Don, so she supposed they would just have to look around and see if they found anything. Just before the doors shut completely, however, the tall man in the lion breastplate whispered through them, "We have fine horses."

  Left standing before the closed portal, Meg repeated, "Fine horses... I think he was trying to tell us something." She glanced towards the other building. "Maybe he was hinting for us to look in the stable, but why do that against the wishes of his king?"

  "I believe that might have been High Knight Roland," Christopher said. "I've heard of his lion-faced armor, anyway. He's known as one of the cooler heads around His Majesty keeping him in check, so it's not surprising he would have a wiser perspective than him."

  "Look at the magical magnet," Meg suggested.

  Agatha did so. "It is being drawn to the stable... he's probably in there."

  "If we go there against Rudolph's will," Rich asked, "might we not get in big trouble afterwards?"

  Agatha shook her head. "Even though the king might not want us to end Don's stint as a bird, the fact he tried to deceive instead of outright forbidding interference from us shows he probably knows at some level that he's in the wrong here. So if we separate Don from the sword and then explain why we had to do it, I doubt he'll do anything to us."

  Joel fidgeted nervously with his fingers. "Are you sure? I know this might not sound the best coming from a soldier of Plasbias, but many do call him the mad king."

  "Despite that, it's not like he's known for putting people to death unjustly on a regular basis or something. Granted that might be in part due to aides talking him down, but Roland is around anyway and I bet he'd help us out. Between him and my standing as a representative from another country, we should be able to pull through."

  "It still seems risky... but since we might be saving the king from his own folly, okay."

  "Should we wait until night to sneak into the stable?" Patrick suggested. "If we try to go now, somebody will probably spot us."

  Meg nodded. "That's what I was about to say. Good to see you starting to grow out of being a sidekick."

  "Hey... if I count as a sidekick, so do you."

  Gavin slapped both their backs, making Meg stumble forward. "After handling yourselves in difficult situations without me for so long, I'd say you can both lay claim to having risen above sidekick status. Plus you outperformed me against those hunters."

  "I thought we established that's because you were rusty." She took and squeezed his hand. "But I don't care what you want to label us, as long as we can stay a team."

  "Aw you kids, that's cute," Agatha said. "Now let's rest up and save some energy for the likely showdown tonight."

  #

  After darkness fell, they crept towards the stable staying in the shadows as much as they could in case guards still watched from the manor. They hadn't brought their cart, but carried some of the explosives from it in their packs—hopefully enough if detonated at close range to the otherworldly blade. "So what's the plan again if we have to fight?" Joel asked. "We should coordinate some kind of strategy before going in."

  Meg looked to Patrick and Gavin, feeling uncertain. "The three of us shouldn't try to do it all ourselves, considering our companions are warriors too and we should appreciate the value of teamwork like Taryn said... but they are inexperienced compared to us, and I don't want to put them in undue danger trying to contribute."

  Gavin looked them over solemnly. "You guys can help, but prioritize your safety and don't get caught up in seeking glory. Hawk Don is pretty fast, so you should probably stay back for the most part and take your shots when you see an opening, and be especially mindful of his energy attacks. Since we aren't looking to kill him, if we happen upon him sleeping or otherwise unaware we should target his wings with our first attacks, in hopes of damaging them enough to prevent him from flying away. Once we've stopped him from escaping, we should strike at his arm until we get the sword out of his hand. None of us probably has the striking power like Taryn to remove a limb in one blow, but enough well-placed hits should do the trick of disarming him. Then we should be able to blow it up without harming him too much in the process."

  Meg smiled. "Glad to see you can still put on the mantle of leader when called for. And I like Hawkdon. Maybe we can adopt it as his official name until we've turned him back."

  "You said he was able to summon the sword back to him after his hand was cut off," Christopher reminded them. "In that case, how are we to keep it away from him after he's disarmed?"

  "I was hoping if he hasn't regrown his lost hand," Gavin replied, "that if we temporarily disable the other one he won't be able to call it back without a functioning appendage to hold it. If he has regrown it though, that would make things more difficult since we might have to disable both hands."

  "Alternately," Meg said, "if we stun him enough before getting the sword away, we might have time to blow it without disabling them." Thinking about their discussion, she had some second thoughts about the damage they might have to do to Don and how much of it might stay with him when he returned to human. It was especially hard to say what injury to his wings would translate to, if at all. But they couldn't allow him to keep the sword, probably to be corrupted worse and worse, and could only hope for the best.

  "Do your instructions for the boys apply to me too?" Agatha asked.

  "I figure you're seasoned enough to know what you're doing. So act as you please." Meg didn't expect her to risk her own neck too much, anyway.

  They slowed down, going over some more tactics and contingencies before they got to the stable entrance. Easing the door open, they peeked inside. Enough moonlight shone in from the windows above that they didn't need to light a torch, but Agatha lit one anyway. The horses in stalls on either side huddled close to the walls, trying to stay as far as they could from a glinting mass at the far end of the stable. It was him—Don standing there, but perhaps asleep with his wings folded in front of him. They tiptoed closer, not attacking yet as they figured they could do more damage quickly to those wings with melee weapons. They looked sturdy, though... without Taryn around, a single blow or handful of blows might not do much, especially since they would struggle to even reach the wing tops, and they dare not use the explosives. Still, exchanging whispers they formed a tentative plan. Gavin and Meg would throw Patrick up together, and when he got high enough he would attempt to cleave one of the wings with all he had.

  "Maybe you should take my poleaxe for now and do it instead," Patrick proposed to Meg. "You're lighter, so we can toss you higher and give you more leeway to strike."

  "I'm not as used to wielding a poleaxe though, but I guess that doesn't matter as much when it comes to a stationary target..." As they made to exchange weapons, however, Don suddenly unfolded his wings. Meg realized they wouldn't get the first strike after all as he glared down at them, the dreadful blade in his single hand. At least he hadn't regenerated the other one, right arm still ending in a stump. "Don, you have to listen to us! You need to give up that sword. If you don't, it'll continue warping your mind as it already has and you might lose yourself utterly."

  The avian entity cocked its head towards her. "Don? To whom do you think you speak?"

  "You're not Don?" Her heart sank. "Oh no... does this mean the sword's taken over completely?"

  "It is as you fear," the hawk mocked. "your friend was indeed foolish to give himself to me. He thought he could grasp his wildest dreams with me for an ally. But he only gave me a new wielder to direct at my whim instead."

  This scenario had crossed her mind as a possibility before, but actually facing it made her head light with panic. If it had progressed so far, was there even enough of Don left for the
m to save? It didn't seem like they would be able to reason with him anymore, and the only option was to break the sword's hold in combat. Before that, though, she had a question. "You wanted a wielder to replace the Night Emperor? Why didn't you simply create a new one out of the other Shadow Children then, instead of taking our friend?"

  "They could not have served. I am an incomplete consciousness, and must bond with a soul in order to awaken fully. But the Night Emperor was the only one of its kind summoned into your world. Those others which resembled its original form, which you called Shadow Children, were mere extensions of my power shaped in its image. Without souls of their own, they had nothing I could draw on. Thus one of you humans was required to be my new partner, or should I say puppet."

  Christopher stared. "What do you intend to do, if Don is no longer in control? I think you must have still given King Rudolph his 'champion' speech, if he found you amusing enough to keep around."

  "I utilized his persona for my benefit, yes. As for my own goal, the more acclimated to this realm I am the stronger I become. Soon I will be ready once more to plunge this world into chaos."

  Meg wondered if it overestimated itself, given its previous wielder had fallen to Artemisia. Still, it might do a lot of damage before being stopped. "But why? Are you nothing more than a weapon of destruction, whose only purpose is violence?"

  "That was not always the case. In the realm where I existed with the Night Emperor, we were happy, guiding the flock of those who shared its origin. It was when your kind, the wretched humans summoned us into your world that everything fell apart. All alone with no way to reunite with the kin its very essence was linked to, the Night Emperor was driven mad. I created replicas of them to try and assuage it, but without their own souls it was of no use. So the Night Emperor's hate grew, and festered within me as well. We raged and raged, seeking to tear down this false world in hopes of finding our own beyond it. Now my partner is gone, but our shared indignation burns strongly in me still. Whether or not I can reach the old world again, I will punish those who wronged us so!"

 

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