by Aaron Thomas
“Please sir, I’ve heard that your gracious town has already given us ample supplies. I don’t want any additional gifts. You should take the money and repair the buildings that were damaged instead,” Kilen told him earnestly.
Mayor Thornhill shook his head, “Nonsense, they are only small items, but we are proud to have provided them for a weapon bearer. You protect our nation and our way of life so we will not have you running around in shambles of armor to defend us with.” The other men started to nod their heads and agree with the mayor. Kilen knew that he was getting nowhere in his attempt to be alone to figure out the presence he felt watching him. “Please come and sit with us and have some wine. Lord Crescent here was just telling us of your victory over the Fire Realm.” The short man stuck out his chest and tucked his thumbs into his loose breeches held up by suspenders, trying to give the impression it was his victory also. Kilen sighed and took a step to the side then held out his arm for Mayor Thornhill to lead into the way.
The mayor started telling the innkeeper all they would need to eat and more importantly drink. He told the large innkeeper named Ned to bring out red, cherry, and white wines. He listed off the people in town that said they would donate brandy and ale for the occasion. The list of food items was astounding; three cheeses, breads, four types of meat, fruits, stews, and even candies. Each item was being donated from people around the town that had been relieved to hear of the defeat of the fire wielders. Leroy came out of the kitchen to serve Bowie a plate of poached quail eggs, steak, and cheese. Musicians stumbled in and played with the inn’s minstrel until there was a whole band. Girls lined up to dance with Bowie, once again playing a lord. Each song started to agitate Brent more and more. he was anxious to be departing Gulrich and get back to the King’s protection. Kilen ate plate after plate of food, and then the gifts started coming. First a tailor with two sets of fine clothing fit for a warrior, dark leather pants thick wool shirts a deep color of green. There was one thick leather jerkin for putting armor on top of to protect the skin from the metal digging in. The tailor took pride when he knelt down to ask Kilen if he would wear a sword belt that he had made just for Kilen. Kilen took it. The belt was pure black leather with polished metal studs along the outside. Kilen put in on in the middle of the bar and allowed the tailor to help adjust the belt to fit properly. Kilen slid his sword on scabbard into the pocket made to hold it. The sword was comfortable and allowed him to rest his hand on it easier. Kilen thanked the man, the tailor beamed and bowed three times walking out. Each person was just as honored when they presented gifts to Kilen and Bowie. Kilen received a new quill and ink set inside a sturdy oak box. Someone must have mentioned that he liked to write.
When the blacksmith came in he was still wearing his working apron and belt. His face was covered in black soot. The workers of the forge were still wearing their steel working attire. They all stopped at the bar to drink deeply of wine and partake in some of the food laid out there. When they were done the blacksmith came to stand in front of Kilen, “I have worked through the night to do what I could for your armor.” The man pulled each piece of Kilen’s armor from a bag. Each piece was now scratch and dent free. The leather bindings were made from new black leather with studs to match his belt. The chest piece now had painting on it in deep green, a tree to match the symbol of the Earth Realm. The tree exactly matched the magic mark left on his blade and rings. The bracers, helm, and shield were in total repair and also polished to a high gloss. Brent smiled at seeing them laid out on the table. Kilen picked up the shield, painted on its surface was the same tree with such detail Kilen could make out the individual leaves. Kilen reached out and clasped the smith’s still sweaty and grimy hand while holding the shield in his other hand.
“You have done an excellent work. I’ll prize these and take pride in such a gift given to me. If I ever find others in need of armor be assured that I will send them to your forge. These are beautiful and I cannot thank you enough for them,” Kilen said still holding the man’s hand.
He spoke back with a smile from ear to ear, “My wife did much of the polishing and painted the tree’s herself. You have saved our town much loss. I was one of those men selected to go after the fire wielders because I can stand great heat. I wouldn’t have survived the encounter I’m sure. I stand here today because you have stood in my place. These are not a gift, but a representation of the lives you have saved. Use them well weapon bearer,” he said as he bowed his head and walked away. Kilen noticed a woman bouncing a baby on her hip follow him out the door.
Kilen said nothing to anyone as he collected his new items and headed up the stairs taking three steps at a time with renewed energy and pride. He went to his room and starting putting all the clothing and armor on. If he was going to leave this town. He would leave it wearing the town’s best work. He looked in the standing mirror and didn’t recognize the warrior looking back. He looked powerful, deadly, and intimidating in his polished armor, black leather bindings, silver worked sword sheath, and green riding cloak. Kilen placed the helm under his arm and went back down to the gathering in the dining hall. The crowd went silent as he walked through in his new equipment. Bowie stood and motioned for Leroy to come over, “Gather our things, we are leaving now.” Brent followed out the door and the wizard, weapon bearer, and Lord stood in the street saying good bye and taking final thanks. Men came out of the inn carrying Kara. Very carefully they placed her into a small cart that one horse could pull. They lashed her down so that she would not bounce and tucked goose pillows under her body and head. They would be able to travel faster than they had before, and with much more pride. To anyone that passed she would just be a sick girl.
When they were all mounted and ready to leave Brent did one final wave then sprinted his horse through the town and onto a more traveled road. Kilen was waiting for the pace to slow, but they didn’t. Kilen felt his horse starting to breath heavy and sweat. Brent turned back and yelled to Kilen, “The longer you wait to restore them the more energy it will take. We have lost precious time.” Kilen reached out and restored the horse’s energy. The riders needed it less. The party kept that pace through the rest of the remaining day and slowed only at night because the horses might misstep in the darkness. As soon as it was light enough the race began again. Brent quickened the pace. Town after town blazed by in the next days. Kilen was slowly regaining his energy through magic. He constantly held on to his sword. He healed saddle sores and riding blisters, restored water in each person’s body. Maintaining a balance between using too much of his magic and keeping the party moving at a fast pace. They stopped once to feed the horses. Kilen slept only a moment, while the others stretched their legs and prepared food for the road. The only other thing that was spoken Brent said to the group, “You lacked discipline in Gulrich. So now I must teach you that. This is how we will travel until we reach Deuterium.” He said nothing more, and no one else did either.
The First Wizard Calvin rarely got messages from his sons and in this case the message was for the King sent secretly through Calvin. Calvin always thought that Brent’s secret schemes would get him in trouble, and wondered what kind of trouble he had gotten himself into now. Calvin walked the wizard’s barracks and made his way to the King’s throne room to deliver the message. He had to think of his son as a wizard first, and to trust his need for secrecy.
Calvin’s soft soled shoes barely made a noise on the white marble floors as he passed through the many corridors in the castle. His long green robes with golden tassels hanging down the front swished as he walked. The servants bowed to him, and in return he blessed them with energy as he walked past. He rarely used his magic for anything other than renewing workers in his elderly life. He had wondered if he had begun rearing children too late to become a great father. All the proof he needed was seeing his only two sons sitting on the council’s seat arguing for the people of the Earth and Water Realms. They had just begun their lives as wizards and they would see grand changes
come about before he passed to the spirit world. Calvin stopped to look at himself in a mirror in the long hallway. This was a habit he had made when he first stopped aging as a normal humans do. His body should have been turned to dust many years ago, but he lived on preserved by magic. His thinning gray hair, long drooping ears, and nose made it apparent that he was elderly. His gray beard and long mustache hung down to mid chest and covered the emblem of the Earth Realm, a healthy green tree. Only a handful knew the truth that his age was well beyond one hundred and fifty years, and he would still have many years left in the world. The look of an elderly man had served him well on several occasions when people thought him too weak to fight back. He had surprised them with the raging earth magic that dwelled inside him. He was not weak or frail. He was the King’s last line of defense and a formidable defense at that. Calvin came to the end of a long hallway which was lined with noble’s guest rooms. At the end of the hall was one of many locked doors that servants knew nothing of what remained behind. He took a key from beneath his robes, opened the door, and quickly closed it, making sure that he wasn’t followed. Locking the door, he went down into the pitch black hallway, feeling his way along the walls. Marks in the walls would warn people inside of when stairs started up or down or when a turn was coming. There was no map of this corridor and very few had any access to it. The hallways led to many places of interest, like the throne room that Calvin now sought out.
He found the door he was looking for and quietly unlocked and exited it. A long green curtain hung from ceiling to floor in the throne room along the wall behind the dais. The curtain served the purpose of showing wealth and hiding the door Calvin so quietly opened and closed behind him. He listened for anyone’s presence in the room and when he was satisfied, he passed out from behind the curtain seeing the King in his throne reading reports. “Calvin these reports are spotty at best, Jace has seen nothing of an invasion from the Fire Realm. He says that there are small parties, of one to five men traveling around the Earth and Water Realms. He says in most cases they cause no trouble other than stealing food like common thieves. Gortus reports absolutely nothing helpful of the northern woods. He found some rogue wizards that were angry they had been disturbed. The experience cost him his horse and three days to find a town to get another. Messages come in from all over saying small fires have been started with no explanation, like one in Gulrich only a day passed. There were two buildings on the outskirts of town that went ablaze. If the Fire Realm is starting a war I don’t see pattern to how they are going to attack us. They seem to be moving in circles along the Heathmos Pass. There are too few in number to cause us any great threat unless they were to come together.” A servant boy came into the room by a side entrance used to serve the King his food and drink. The King yelled out to him, “You there, find me a map maker with a map of the Heathmos Pass and summon him here at once.” The king stroked his brown beard as he studied the reports.
“My king, perhaps my son could enlighten you with more information. I just received a scroll from Brent marked for your eyes only,” Calvin said, holding the scroll out to the King from beside the throne. He broke the wax seal on the scroll and looked it over, reading and re-reading it before handing it back to Calvin.
“Your son always writes in code and it’s often gibberish to my eyes. Tell me what he is saying before he arrives here in person to speak in more codes.”
Calvin took the now open scroll and read it out loud to the king.
Our friends in Gulrich had two buildings burn to the ground as a result of a wild fire. The town is now safe and the fire put out. I bring the arrow maker from the moon back to you for service. I also bring to you now a young girl with the spark, and her brother to protect her. He carries a double edged blade, and professes his loyalty and life to your house. We shall arrive in less than four days if all goes well, to receive your knowledge and guidance.
The aged wizard read it to himself twice more before he spoke an attempt at interpretation. “He has found evidence of the Fire Realm near Gulrich and has stopped the threat on that front. The arrow maker from the moon I don’t understand, maybe a moon shaped country or town. He has found a girl that is a fire wizard and is bringing her here for training to be a full wizard. The girl’s brother has offered his service to you, in order to pay for her training. This part about a double edged blade is a little peculiar. My first thought would be a swordsmen. That couldn’t be right, he must mean a weapon bearer. I was sure that you ordered all weapon bearer’s of any substantial age to return here for Springfest. He would have to be a second generation weapon bearer, but I had thought those were all accounted for also. If I remember correctly none are from near Gulrich, so the question remains, where did this weapon bearer come from? I wonder why he said double edged blade instead of, the boy brings his own weapon?” Calvin was thinking out loud now stroking his gray beard out of habit.
“Perhaps your son has yet again disobeyed my order and imbued yet another weapon without consent,” King Atmos snarled.
Calvin raised a single finger, “I think that it would have been wise of him, if he raised a weapon bearer to help him subdue the girl and keep her from destroying the realm on a rampage. If this is the case the sword is already yours by the wizard council laws and you would gain another water bearer as soon as he arrives back in Deuterium. I believe that this is a great possibility, since my son is one of the weaker wizards in magic.”
“I see now. I certainly can use another water bearer of my own. I’ll appoint Captain Lorusk the bearer of the sword when your son presents it to me. Ensure the captain is here to receive his weapon when they arrive. This part about the arrow maker from the moon, what does that mean?”
Calvin paused a moment before answering, “I was wondering the same, sire. It could mean many things, an arrow is a weapon at flight. It could mean Jace or Gortus is returning with him. It could simply mean he has found an arrow maker that lived in an area shaped like the moon or a town named after the moon. Apparently he thought it would be of some significance to you. Sire, I can only guess at the meaning of that clue.”
“When the map maker returns, we will explore any locations with relations to the moon. That task is a low priority to marking our towns and supply holds in the Heathmos pass, as well as enemy sightings and numbers there. We will see if there is a visible pattern to their movements.”
Calvin spoke more confidently, “Soon wizards will be returning with reports from local townships and we will get a more accurate report.” The two men started looking over reports, awaiting the arrival of the map maker. The throne room doors forced open and a guardsmen announced Scout Jace into the king’s presence. The scout was dripping wet from head to toe, but the water seemed not to bother him.
“Well, I know that Jace is not the man from the moon,” Atmos said tossing Brent’s scroll to the side and onto a pile of reports.
Jace approached the King and knelt in front of him, “Reporting as ordered, my king.”
***
The rain had slowed the group to a walk once again during the dark of the first night. Muddy ground could make dangerous footing. The wet had soaked through all of Kilen’s new clothes. The feeling didn’t bother him though. The world around him seemed more vibrant and more detailed than he had ever experienced. Each drop of rain helped him see every crevice on the ground, plants, and even the shapes of his friends. Kilen had used his cloak and the one they set aside for Kara to cover her cart to keep her dry. The water still seeped in but Leroy’s herb’s kept her well in a deep state of sleep. The slowing of the party let Kilen regain his energy faster because he wasn’t restoring the animals or his friends as often as he had been while running. Brent had told him that letting the rain soak his clothes would help to heal him and restore his power faster than normal. Kilen felt energized and almost back to normal for the first time since he blacked out fighting the fire wielders.
Bowie had unstrung his bow and kept the strings in a pouch under h
is shirt and riding cloak to keep them from becoming wet. Leroy had done the same for his stocks of herbs. When the party stopped to break their morning fast, Brent held out a hand and lit a dead log ablaze using the imbued bracer Bowie had brought back. The action set the voices that only Kilen could hear to talking again. Max and Joahna argued intensely until Kilen shouted, “Be quiet!” The others looked at him and he simply told them, “I thought I heard something.” Kilen knew they all we’re wondering what exactly he had heard over the rain falling on the tree’s canopy far overhead or the rain runoff hitting the ground around them. He tried to go on as normal as he could, letting the voices whisper to each other inside his head. Kilen had decided that he was either being haunted by the two men he had killed, or the action of killing them had driven him completely insane. He had heard stories of men in battle becoming confused or losing his mind due to a battle holding their own limbs severed from their bodies, or losing total control in blood lust that they started to kill their friends as well as enemy. The problem was he had never heard of a man hearing voices. He wondered if he was even cut out to be a weapon bearer.
The rain cleared in the early afternoon on the second day of travel but the ground was considerably soft. Great care was taken to keep the horses from turning a foot or throwing a rider by slipping in the mud. Brent not only led the way but set the pace faster or slower whenever they needed. The traveling was quiet and focused, it gave Kilen time to think about the voices and his upcoming training. He knew that he had to do whatever he could to help Kara gain control of her intense anger. If that meant he had to keep the secret of hearing voices to himself, he would as long as he could. Kilen had gotten angry when Max referred to Kara as being pretty enough to take his guilty pleasures out on. When Kilen lashed out inside his mind, Max cried out in pain. Joahna pleaded for him to stop hurting Max and Kilen didn’t stop until he heard the voice call Kilen by name. The experience although had proved two things: Even though he heard voices, they heard him too. And, if he wanted he could cause them pain. The notion meant that Kilen could still fight the ghosts of his past and perhaps regain his sanity.