by David Wind
“Possibly,” Areenna whispered. “They come from the north.” She sent a command to Gaalrie, who circled above and flew north. Through Gaalrie’s sharp eyes, she saw the men. There were seven, not six. Each was dressed and armed as a free-blade. They were on foot.
“There are seven. They come straight toward us on this road. Trebor, do not refer to Mikaal as ‘prince’.”
Trebor’s eyes flicked from Areenna to Mikaal. He nodded. “Of course I can’t hide who I am.” He ran a hand down his chest, emphasizing the royal emblem of Lokinhold on his tunic. His cloak bore the same emblem as well.
“I am your guard, Areenna, your servant,” Mikaal said.
“I understand.”
Areenna wrapped her cloak about her, hiding both dagger and sword. Then she closed her eyes and sent her thoughts to Gaalrie, who flew high above the band of Free-Blades. They were a quarter mile away and walking swiftly toward them.
Mikaal turned and repacked the supply bag they’d opened for the meal and tied it to a kralet. He removed his cloak and placed it across the kralet’s back. He walked to the other two, drawing and re-sheathing his sword several times to make certain it moved freely—the cold had a way of making metal stick in its scabbard and cause a delay in drawing the weapon. He turned his back to Trebor and closed his eyes. An instant later, he saw through Gaalrie’s eyes. The Free-Blades were about to crest the rise ahead.
“Areenna, play your part, bring Hero and Trebor’s kraal to us.”
“They are here,” Areenna said as the first of the men appeared on the rise. “Be ready.” Then she turned and went to the kraals as Mikaal had asked.
It took the Free-Blades only another few minutes to reach them. As they came closer, Mikaal studied them. The seven were rugged men, tall and strong, wearing simple leather tunics beneath light metal torso armor. Each carried a sword and a knife at their hips; three had bows slung over their shoulders. Two worn-looking kralets trailed with their supplies and equipment.
When the first reached Mikaal, he sized him up and nodded. “A good day to you,” he said simply.
“And to you, Free-Blade.”
“I am Leinad, leader of this small band,” he said in introduction and offered his arm in the traditional greeting of men.
Mikaal accepted the greeting and placed his hand on the other’s arm. Leinad gripped Mikaal’s forearm. “I am Siwel, guard to Prince Trebor of Welkold.”
Releasing Mikaal’s arm, the free-blade turned to Trebor. “My Lord,” he said with a head bow. He looked over Trebor’s shoulder to where Areenna stood with the two kraals but said nothing.
“You are pledged to a dominion?” Mikaal asked.
“We are on our way to Llawnroc where we have been called.”
“A long distance yet to go,” Mikaal said, sensing the lie easily.
“True, but a worthwhile venture. You go to Ontan?”
“We do,” Mikaal responded.
“Then I wish you good speed. There is a fine place to camp a half day north; clear water and strong trees to break the night winds.”
“My thanks for the information. We will make use of it.”
“A good day,” Leinad offered and started forward with another head bow to Trebor and a furtive glance at Areenna as he led his men past them.
He is already making plans to follow us. We must be careful.
And watchful, Mikaal added to their silent conversation. He has his eyes on you.
“That went well,” Trebor said with a relieved sigh.
“With luck,” Mikaal responded as he called Charka to him. “Let us put distance between them and ourselves.”
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An hour before sunset found the three at the exact spot the leader of which the Free-Blades had spoken. “This is where they want us,” Mikaal said.
“Yes, it would be perfect. The trees are thick enough to hide them until they are ready,” Trebor said.
Areenna gazed around, studying the trees, the ground and the stream flowing through the left side of the grove. “It is a peaceful place, good to lull one into a sense of security.”
“Let the kralets graze. We will secure them near us after dark. It will be safer that way. We don’t want them stolen.”
“I think they want to steal more than the kralets,” Areenna said, looking at Trebor.
“Me? Why would they want me?” the young prince asked, startled.
“Ransom,” Mikaal said simply.
“They would not be so stupid,” Trebor said.
Mikaal studied the prince for a moment. “They are Free-Blades, mercenaries without dominion. They care not for dominion nor how we live. They do what they want, not what is right.”
They are under the influence of the Black Witch, Areenna added to Mikaal.
Mikaal did not respond to Areenna’s thought; instead, he freed Charka of the saddle and let him graze. Behind him, the other animals did the same.
“See if there is game nearby,” Mikaal instructed Areenna.
Areenna sent a thought to Gaalrie, who wheeled above them and began to search. The three set up their camp, erecting two lean-tos and placing their sleeping silks within.
Areenna set her white bow and the quiver against the inside slant of the lean-to, to be easily available when needed. Gaalrie’s call came when she left the lean-to. Closing her eyes, she joined the treygone and saw a small wild klirt, pushing its snout through the ground hunting for shrooms.
“There is a klirt to the southwest, small enough for the three of us. It’s about a quarter mile away.”
Mikaal turned and smiled. “Perfect. Trebor, keep a watchful eye out. Areenna, your bow?”
I can do it.
I need you here in case they come early, he replied in their way.
Areenna retrieved the bow and a single arrow. When she handed it to him, he raised his eyebrows at the arrow.
“I could do it in a single shot.”
“I know. But that isn’t the issue, is it?”
Trebor watched them from a short distance, puzzled by their words. “If it’s a problem, I will hunt it.”
They turned and said, “No.”
Trebor frowned, shaking his head when Areenna and Mikaal laughed. Then, without a word, Mikaal walked in the direction of the klirt.
When he disappeared through the surrounding gazebow trees, Trebor said to Areenna. “Are you in love with him?”
Her jaw dropped. “Why would you think such?”
He shrugged, eloquently. “I don’t think it, I see it… I hear it. The two of you talk as if you have been together… forever. Does he feel the same?”
“Does it matter?” she snapped.
“I’m sorry, Areenna, I did not mean to pry.”
“No,” she whispered, “you and I have been friends for a long time, Trebor. I... I’m just sensitive to it. He will be High King one day, and I am destined to rule Freemorn. The High King cannot be farther guardian to another dominion.”
“Why is that?” Trebor asked. “It doesn’t seem to make much sense. There has been but one High King. There is no tradition, no rule about such.”
“No, there is not, but I sense it will go badly with the other dominions if such happens.”
“I do not share that, and Roth is still young and strong. He has many years ahead of him—”
“—Depending on what comes,” Areenna cut in.
Trebor nodded. “Yes. But,” he said, pausing for a moment before saying, “Does Mikaal feel the same as you about that?”
Areenna shrugged. “I sense he does, but we don’t speak of it. We have too much to face without dwelling on it.”
“We are, you and I, the same age. Yet, I think I know more about emotion than you. I have loved Akassia since we were together at school. I know how I feel and I know how she feels, and I see that you and Mikaal are no different.”
“You are sweet, Trebor, and you have grown into a good man, but what Mikaal and I face in the time ahead prevents anything from ha
ppening between us. Perhaps when it is over…”
Trebor reached out and took her hand. He held it tight. “I understand, Areenna.”
When he released her hand, she smiled at him. “Not a word.”
“Of course not. I will gather wood for the fire.”
“Stay close,” she warned.
By the time Mikaal returned with the klirt and prepared it for cooking, the fire had burned down to a cooking glow and they set the klirt above it. While it cooked, Mikaal walked the boundaries of the grove, looking for the various ways the Free-Blades would use. Not that he was worried about the renegade surprising them; Gaalrie and Charka would sense their coming long before they attacked. He and Areenna would as well.
Yet, worry tugged at him. His concern was for Trebor. The focus of the attack would be to capture the prince. They would not expect Areenna, as a servant girl, to play any part in it. Mikaal knew that would be their downfall. Protecting Trebor was his ultimate responsibility; the Prince was but one man and would have no chance against two or three experienced Free-Blades. Using his abilities around Trebor was not an option either.
He lost track of time walking through the trees, looking at the distances between the boles, charting the pathways in his mind until Areenna’s call to return broke into his thoughts. Suddenly, heat spread through his stomach. He started back and froze as a vision crossed his eyes. He saw the Free-Blades moving through the trees. The moon was already high in the sky above as he watched them come noiselessly through the grove of trees. His vision faded and he knew his grandmother had been right. His ability of foretelling came when needed.
He gazed skyward. The moon had not risen; the sky was dark but not black. The stars were pinpoints of pale light waiting patiently to show their true brightness. It was in that moment when he knew the seven would come just after midnight.
CHAPTER 12
Gaalrie’s warning came just as Areenna and Mikaal sensed the Free-Blades approach. From behind, Charka called out with the low-pitched cry of a kraal. “They come,” Areenna said aloud for Trebor’s benefit.
She joined with Gaalrie and watched the men slip into the trees. Their weapons were at the ready and their faces determined. In the lean-tos, each of the three had their swords lying next to them. Areenna and Mikaal wore the special armor Roth had made for them, while Trebor wore a leather-quilted vest.
When the Free-Blades disappeared from Gaalrie’s sight, Areenna called her treygone to circle above the clearing. Her aoutem flew up and over and began circling. The instant the first of the men came through the woods, the bird dipped lower, floating on the currents and holding her position as if she were not moving.
Areenna watched and as she did, Mikaal joined with her. The Free-Blades moved noiselessly through the trees. When they emerged, there were only six. “Six only,” Mikaal whispered, “One is in the trees. Be watchful.”
Trebor stirred. He grasped his sword and started to rise.
“Not yet,” Areenna whispered. “Wait.”
Areenna called up her powers, which had already begun to stir. Mikaal, lying next to her, did the same. The burning within the depths of his insides spread like fire through his body. Time slowed; seconds became minutes until, finally, Mikaal said, “Now.”
The three rose quickly, swords in hand, stepping out of the lean-tos. The six men stood in the light of the dying campfire. The leader, his face half-hidden by his helmet, shouted, “Take the Prince and the woman. Kill the guardsman.”
The six surrounded them, their swords held high. They moved inward. In that instant, Mikaal saw a flash of what was to come. From his left, sitting on a branch of the tallest gazebow tree, the seventh man was drawing his bow back.
Seconds later, the man released his arrow. Prepared, his power soaring through him, Mikaal lifted his left palm and, as the arrow sped toward him, called up his own powers and deflected it. The arrow veered to his left. One of the Free-Blades cried out when the arrow buried itself in his neck. Blood spurted in pulsing jets from the wound and the man fell.
Areenna sent a command to Gaalrie to attack the archer and hefted her sword to face the oncoming men.
“Now!” the leader shouted. The five charged.
Mikaal faced the leader, who charged with a mad cry. Their blades met with a loud clash and then they separated. Behind him, he sensed a second man about to strike. He ducked, spun, and with both hands on the sword, sliced across the man’s chest. His armor split and blood gushed from his chest as he fell. Whirling his sword in a figure eight, Mikaal turned back to the leader and struck. The man deflected his blade. They stepped back and circled each other.
Behind him, another man screamed and he knew Areenna had taken the man down. He concentrated on the Free-Blade before him, attacking swiftly, seeking an opening while listening to the sounds of the fighting around him. The man was a good swordsman and defended well against Mikaal’s attack.
From the trees came a scream and the sound of a body falling through the branches. A second scream of pain followed the loud cry of a treygone. The leader hesitated momentarily before charging Mikaal.
Areenna had taken out one Blade, but the other was charging her, using strokes that blurred before her eyes. To her right, Trebor fought the fifth man, who was bigger and heavier than Trebor and the Prince was losing ground quickly.
Areenna called forth her powers and as they raged through her, drew up a ball of energy within her hand and shot it at the man before her. It hit him hard, knocking him back a dozen feet where he lay unmoving.
She ran to where Trebor back-stepped under a deluge of blows he was barely able to turn away. She stepped to his side and together they attacked the man. They drove him back until he made one mistake and Trebor reached past his guard, putting the blade through the man’s leather armor, piercing the thick leather as if it were merely skin.
When the free-blade fell, they both turned to Mikaal. The two men were circling each other again, slowly, carefully. Then Mikaal feinted and struck. The Free-Blade barely countered and when their blades met, the man staggered back but did not go down. Again, they circled each other.
“Your men are lost,” Mikaal told him. “This is over. Take your life and go.”
He hesitated, as if thinking over the offer. Then, strangely, his face changed. His body stiffened and his eyes turned dark. A mist floated out from his skin and his lips turned into a smile.
Areenna, watching what was happening reacted instantly. It is she! She possesses him! A burst of blue light from the palms of her hands followed her silent warning to Mikaal. It struck the man, but did not affect him. Laughing, he turned to Areenna and raised his hands. “You think yourself more but you are still a child!”
Mikaal reacted instinctively. A split second after the man lifted his hands, Mikaal dropped his sword and palms forward, released the weapon Areenna had gifted him. Two beams of light erupted from his palms and shot straight at the man. The light enveloped the free-blade leader and exploded. When the light died, the man lay dead, his body twisted unnaturally, thirty feet distant.
Trebor! Mikaal and Areenna turned at the same instant and saw the prince staring at them, his face filled with disbelief. I had no choice, was Mikaal’s thought to Areenna. I tried not to use my ability.
I know. This is bad.
“Trebor,” Mikaal called to the prince.
Trebor shook his head as if trying to clear it. “How is this possible?” he half-whispered.
“This isn’t the place to discuss it,” Areenna said, her voice low and gentle as she swept her hand gesturing to the unmoving bodies.
“This is the very place,” Trebor stated. “How is this possible? How can you make magic?” he asked Mikaal.
“The archer is in the woods. Come with me to check on him. We will talk.”
His eyes filled with question, his face tense with suspicion.
“Go with Mikaal, he will explain everything. Then we’ll talk.” As she finished, she pushed a sense of
calm to him and saw his facial muscles ease, a moment before he nodded.
Reluctantly, Trebor went with Mikaal. As they walked toward the woods, she went to the man she had last fought to see if he still lived. When she knelt next to him, she saw the rise and fall of his chest.
Standing, she went to the kralets and took down a coil of rope. She cut enough to tie his hands and feet. When she finished, she checked the others. All were dead. She returned to the survivor and, drawing up all her strength, dragged him to where the kralets stood. With another piece of rope, she tied him to the same stake as the pack animals.
She finished just as Mikaal and Trebor returned, carrying the unconscious archer. “He lives. His leg is broken.”
“One lives. He is tied by the kralets.”
Mikaal studied their attackers. “We need to move the bodies away.”
“We should leave,” Areenna countered.
“And go where? It is safer here. Trebor, work with me.”
They took the archer to where the other one lay and tied him as well. Then Areenna sent Trebor off for a strong and straight branch for the man’s leg. While he was gone, Mikaal and Areenna went to the bodies and dragged them away.
What did you tell him?
What he needed to hear. I told him some truth, some falsehoods. I explained how my mother charged me to accompany you to the Island, to protect you. When you went to the Island, I accompanied you to the far landing. While I waited for your return, the Black Witch attacked me. Before she could kill me, something from the Island stopped her and, whatever saved me, whatever force lives on the Island, changed me. When we left the Island, I discovered I had a power.
He believed this?
He seems to. Perhaps he wants to, I don’t know, but we must be sure he speaks nothing of this night.
Not now. The morning will be a better time.
In this, I defer to you. His eyes raced across her face, seeking something within her.
A half hour later, with the archer still unconscious but his leg splinted, Areenna pushed calming energy to Trebor. With the area around their lean-tos cleaned of the bodies, the three travelers returned to their sleeping silks. The prisoners lay unmoving by the kralets.