The Warden's Sword (The Warden Saga Book 2)

by Paul Summerhayes

Year - 840

  Severus’s horse trudged through the deep snow. A recent wound to his leg had proven troublesome but he had grown accustomed to the pain. The pain kept his mind sharp and focused.

  The eldon had been hunted over many lands, from the plains of southern Krystoria to the northern realms. Bounty hunters and mercenaries were more than just a little interested in the price on his head—thanks to Queen Sofia. Killing her husband and her most trusted generals had created a sizeable purse for his death. Far too much for most to resist.

  His discussion to cross the Cold Heart Mountains into Tarmia was also proving to be hazardous…

  The lone horseman rode a muscular stallion up a winding mountain road. He was headed west into Tarmia and hopefully away from the people that hunted him. He was not far from his mountain home.

  Home…after so long, he mused, looking at the road ahead. Not far ahead the road was blocked by a small group of armed men. So soon...my leg…

  Severus reined in his stallion and studied the men. They were sell swords—hired mercenaries. Most of them were probably little more than thugs, willing to kill anyone for money. Mercenaries were not the people you wanted at your back in a tight situation. More than likely they would change sides or stab you in the back for a few extra coins. And these four looked no different.

  If they are well paid, they won’t run…so the dance begins.

  Killing had never concerned Severus, it came natural to him. He always remained calm and clear-headed regardless of the odds stacked against him. It made him good at his chosen trade. The Brotherhood of Shadows operated throughout the land, applying their trade for anyone willing to pay their fee, and their fee was always high. They had a reputation of always completing a contract and just knowing that they knew your name was enough for many people to go into hiding for years. But no one escaped them for long. And Severus was considered one of their best.

  Severus pulled back his hood and revealed his pale grey skin and pointed eldon ears. His face was emotionless. One thug was nervous and looked to his companions. Good! They knew his reputation which meant that they knew the cost they would have to pay. The other three men remained stationary and matched his steely gaze.

  Three experienced warriors…that makes a change.

  Severus drew his curved sword and its edge gleamed keenly in the afternoon sunlight. The nervous thug sucked in his breath and looked like he didn’t want to be there.

  He will run.

  With a tap from his boots, the horse leapt forward and charged toward the mercenaries. Two of the men raised short bows and fired arrows at the oncoming horseman, and at least one arrow found its mark and penetrated deep into the horse’s chest. The beast’s front legs buckled and Severus was thrown over the horse’s head and he hit the ground hard. Somehow he managed to roll out of the fall and onto his feet still holding his sword. The feathers were the only part of the arrow still visible in the dying horse’s chest. Wide eyed, it screamed in pain.

  “Kill him!”

  With weapons drawn, the mercenaries came forward cautiously. The two outer men spread out in the hope of circling him. Severus stood his ground, looking for any weakness. This was going to be a hard fight.

  The first mercenary ran at Severus swinging an axe—he aimed to behead the eldon and end the fight fast. The axe missed Severus by a hair’s thickness as the eldon ducked under the blow. Dodging passed the axeman, Severus produced a knife from his cloak and threw it at the second mercenary moving in to attack. The knife hit the man in the centre of his chest—wide-eyed, the man silently crumpled to the ground.

  The axeman’s forward momentum had carried him passed Severus and in a fluid motion, Severus spun round and his sabre struck the axeman in the back—severing his spine. The man dropped his axe and screamed in agony as he crumpled to the ground. Blood stained the white snow and in a few heartbeats, two men already lay dead.

  Two remained. The inexperienced warrior was now terrified and would not be as big of a threat as his friend.

  With a flick of his wrist, Severus removed most of the blood from his sword. Experience had taught him that the hilt would get slippery when covered in blood. It was always best to remove the blood as soon as the opportunity arose.

  “They were right,” said the older mercenary, pointing with his sword. “He said you wouldn’t die easily.”

  The mercenary stepped forward, swinging his sword in a downward strike. Severus deflected the attack and countered with his own, aiming at his opponent’s stomach. Luck was on the mercenary’s side and he got out of the sword’s path just in time. Grunting with exertion, the mercenary countered by raining down a series of fast attacks but Severus blocked each strike—almost without effort. Unlike the human, Severus was barely sweating when they broke apart.

  In frustration, the mercenary swung his sword with all his might diagonally at the Severus’s chest, but the assassin rolled to the side and as he regained his feet, he struck out with his sword. Its curved blade severed the mercenary’s leg below his knee. With his limb gone, blood pumped onto the snow and the mercenary fell screaming. Without emotion, Severus pushed his sword point into the mercenary’s neck and the sound stopped.

  Now for the young one.

  The last mercenary was thirty yards away—running full pelt down the mountain road and away from the assassin. Suddenly the would-be thug stumbled and fell flat—a black-feathered arrow protruding from his neck.

  Slow clapping whipped Severus’s head around and twenty yards above the road stood a dark-clad man on a rocky outcrop. The powerfully built newcomer held a short bow and a short sword hung from his belt. He smiled confidently.

  “I haven’t seen you fight in years…” said the man. “And you haven’t lost any of your skills.” He threw aside his bow and jumped gracefully down from rock to rock to the road.

  “Maximilian. I wondered when you would come,” said Severus calmly. “You always did like others doing your dirty work.”

  “Why get your hands dirty if you don’t have to?” replied Maximilian smoothly. “Are you wondering why I’m here?”

  “I assume a snake like you is after the bounty.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you. I don’t want your bounty, just your head.” Maximilian smiled, an unsettling gesture. He seemed calm and controlled but hatred bubbled just under the surface. Maximilian had always been jealous of Severus. “You see, the Brotherhood has sold you out to that Naromian bitch. Apparently you can’t buy the Brotherhood with money, but you can buy it with power and influence.”

  “What are you talking about, fool?”

  “Our supreme leader himself, Carl Talbot, has ordered the Brotherhood to kill you. And as a reward he’ll sit on the Naromian’s high council. Of course he will be well paid for his efforts.”

  “He wouldn’t sell out a Brother—it goes against our code.”

  “Oh, Severus, don’t be naïve. Everyone can be bought.” Maximilian studied Severus but the eldon was emotionless. “Even the Brotherhood.”

  Severus bent and pulled his knife from the dead mercenary at his feet. “What now?”

  “I kill you.”

  “So be it.”

  Maximilian drew his short sword and also produced another short sword from a back scabbard. Swinging the two swords in circles, he smiled. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”

  Chapter 6

  “What do you mean the blood sucker’s gone?” asked Garm, shovelling some of Mrs. Bohmer’s last night leftovers into his mouth. “I didn’t even know he was here.”

  “That’s all he said really. That and there are forces in play,” said Finn. He sat across the Bohmers’ kitchen table from his brother and Anna. It was midmorning and the three sat discussing the night’s events.

  “He’s been training me through my dreams…for weeks?” asked Anna for the third time.

  “He said that your powers were waking so you’ve become aware of him. Odd, he can’t see you or hear you but he can communicat
e with you through your dreams.” Finn absently stared out the window. What does this mean?

  “Well, I don’t like it. I feel…violated. I’m going to give him a piece of my mind the next time I see him.”

  “He won’t hear you,” said Garm with a mouthful of food.

  “He’s got a point,” agreed Finn, looking at Anna. “I think that’s why Mordan is training you in your dreams. He probably can’t communicate with you in any other way.”

  “It’s still wrong.”

  “What’s the,” chomp, chomp, “plan now?” asked Garm.

  “Do you ever stop eating?” asked Anna.

  “I’m still growing,” he said, smiling.

  “The plan…” said Finn. “I guess we’ll protect Anna and wait for Mordan to return and complete the training. What do you remember of your dreams?”

  “I can only remember bits and pieces…and feelings. I felt scared but also strong…in control and confident.” She looked at the two brothers. “I feel like this was always inside me and…”

  “I don’t trust him,” said Finn. “A thousand years ago his kind treated all other races as animals. Used us as slaves and fed on us for food. His kind is evil and we can’t forget that.”

  “He could have killed you at any time when you met him but he didn’t. He even gave you that sword. Maybe some alps are different and the old tales are just that—tales,” said Garm.

  “I doubt it. There’s always some truth in the old stories. We mustn’t let our guard down around him.” Finn stood. “Anna, one of us will stay with you at all times. It’s always quiet around here so no one will notice that there is only one warden on duty.”

  “I’m not a baby,” said Anna. “I don’t need someone looking over my shoulder. What about a woman’s privacy?”

  The two brothers fell silent. Anna was stubborn…and proud. She would not show any fear. A moment went by and she laughed. “You should see your faces. If it makes you feel better, you can ‘protect’ me. But at the first sign that you’re getting under my feet, it stops. Understood?”

  “Yes,” the two brothers agreed in unison.

  “That’s settled,” she smiled. “Now, who’s guarding me to the market? And then guarding my groceries back home?”

  It was almost dark, Finn and Garm stood outside Anna’s front door which was open. The giant eldon had put on his green warden’s cloak and was securing its brass clasp. “It was another quiet day,” the tall eldon said.

  “You mean boring, don’t you?” said Finn.

  “If I have to listen to another ‘Women for Change’ meeting, I’ll go mad.”

  Finn laughed, “I’m glad it wasn’t me.”

  “She’s got a ‘Women for Government’ meeting tonight.”

  “What?” Finn stopped laughing.

  “Just joking,” Garm said. “You should see your face.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  “I’m off to see Janie Brauer. Apparently her father needs help mending their fence.”

  “I’m sure he does. Be good.”

  “Aren’t I always?”

  “No, you’re not.”

  Garm walked off in the direction of the Brauer’s house whistling an eldon tune. Finn shook his head and entered the house, locking the door behind him.

  “You can sleep on the couch,” said Mrs. Bohmer. “And I’ve left an extra blanket.”

  “Is Mayor Bohmer home yet?” asked Finn.

  “No. He will be back tomorrow or the day after,” replied Anna.

  “I’m off to bed,” said Mrs. Bohmer. “Don’t talk too long, you two.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Goodnight, Mrs. Bohmer.”

  Mrs. Bohmer walked up the stairs and left the two friends sitting on the couch in the living room. The fireplace was alive with orange dancing flames, filling the room with warmth and the aroma of smoke.

  “This is nice,” said Anna as she stared into the flames.

  “What are thinking about?”

  “About what Mordan taught me—I’m remembering more and more.”

  “What things?”

  “It is hard to explain. But I feel…in tune with things. It might sound strange, but I think I can hear voices…or what sounds like voices flowing off the wind or the clip-clop of a passing horse...”

  “When?”

  “Normally when it’s very quiet. Like now.”

  “Can you hear anything now?”

  “No, just you…thanks for being here with me.”

  Finn felt a little awkward, “That’s what friends are for.”

  Her eyes locked with his for a moment. “It’s late. I better go to bed,” she said quickly. Anna stood and Finn grabbed her hand and stood, looking into her eyes.

  “You know I would do anything for you.”

  “I know,” she replied softly.

  “If things were different…”

  “I know, Finn. Let’s talk about it later.”

  He released her hand and she walked up the stairs. With a quick backward glance, she was gone.

  “Why are things so complicated?” he said softly as he slumped into the couch.

  A sound woke Finn from sleep. It was late as the fire had died down and was now little more than glowing coals. The house was still. He sat up and groaned as he straightened his back—the couch wasn’t as comfortable as it looked.

  Walking to the fireplace, he picked up a small log and threw it into the coals, sending up a small cloud of ash. He sat back on the couch and pulled a blanket around his shoulders. He yawned and his eyes closed—what was that? His eyes flicked open. It was almost undistinguishable but his superior eldon hearing detected something.

  There it was again. It sounded like a scraping sound coming from the rear of the house. Standing, Finn cast off the blanket and picked up his sword. He drew the black blade from its scabbard and silently crept toward the kitchen.

  The sword’s hilt was warm. It was thirsty.

  When he got to the kitchen, the scraping sound came from the back door. Someone was trying to break in. Finn reached for the door handle and hesitated. What if it’s Mordan...?

  He grabbed the door bolt and quietly slid it back. With his sword in one hand, he gripped the door knob and pulled the door open suddenly. A dark shape spilled into the kitchen.

  “Shit!” cried the person on the floor.

  Booted footsteps rang out as someone ran down the garden path and into the darkness—there was more than one!

  The shape on the floor tried to stand but Finn pushed him back down with his boot. He placed the black blade against the burglar’s ear. “This sword craves your blood so I wouldn’t move if I were you.”

  The man remained motionless.

  “How many of you?” Finn moved the blade, drawing blood from man’s cheek. “How many?”

  “Don’t kill me, Finn.”

  “Kirk? Is that you?”

  “Yes…”

  “Lay still.” Finn walked to the kitchen table and lit a small oil lamp. Kirk wore dark clothes and a thin-bladed knife lay nearby, which he dropped when he fell inside. Finn kicked the knife out of Kirk’s reach and closed and bolted the back door.

  “Kirk Auttenburg, what the hell are you doing breaking in to the mayor’s house?”

  “They paid me.” The blonde man was scared. He was no longer the arrogant young man who had picked on Finn in the past. There was no fight in him as he knew was beaten.

  “Who paid you?”

  “I don’t know their names. I called them by their nicknames; Tiger, Wolf and Bear.”

  “Are they locals?”

  “I only met them yesterday for the first time.”

  “What exactly did they pay you for?” asked Finn.

  “They paid me to break into the mayor’s house. They said they want to steal something valuable. That’s all they told me. Honest.”

  “You know that something valuable is Anna. That makes you a kidnapper. I ho
pe you were paid well because the king’s law is clear. Kidnapping is punishable by death.”

  “No, Finn. Believe me,” Kirk pleaded. “They never said what they wanted…”

  It sounded like Kirk was telling the truth but a warden must uphold the king’s law. Kirk would be locked up until the circuit judge could determine the young man’s fate.

  Anna and Mrs. Bohmer appeared in the kitchen doorway. They wore dressing gowns and Mrs. Bohmer carried an oil lamp.

  “Kirk?” asked Anna. “What going on?”

  “He was trying to break in. His conspirators got away.”

  “Break in?” asked Anna. “Why?

  “My guess is they were after you,” said Finn.

  “I didn’t know,” Kirk was close to tears. “I didn’t know.”

  “Mrs. Bohmer, do you have any rope? I need to tie him up until Garm arrives.”

  “I’ll find some.” Mrs. Bohmer left the kitchen.

  “Sit in that chair.” Finn indicated with his sword.

  Mrs. Bohmer returned and handed Finn a coil of rope, which he used to tie Kirk to the chair. “That’ll hold him till morning.”

  Chapter 7

  Year - 838

  Severus moved away from his dying horse and the men he had just killed. The battle would end fast if he tripped over the dead or slipped in their blood.

  He locked eyes with Maximilian. They had known each other for many years and Maximilian was arrogant and unlikeable but he was a skilled fighter—Severus’s equal.

  Maximilian had never liked Severus. Like all Brotherhood recruits, they were orphans and joined when they were ten. From that time, they were rivals. A fierce competitiveness built into a hatred that had lasted over twenty years.

  Severus had grown into an even-tempered, tall, thin eldon while Maximilian was the opposite. He was rash, egotistical and a heavily-muscled human. He did have a certain charm with the ladies which Severus never completely understood. Both were skilled assassins and swordsmen—only one would survive this fight.

  The assassins circled each other in the snow like two wary predators. Maximilian moved his two short swords in and out of different guard positions, anxious for the fight to begin. A grin played on his lips.