The Dragon's Blade: The Reborn King

by Michael R. Miller

  “Darnuir,” Cosmo said, “are you hurt?” Large hands brought Darnuir to a sitting position and felt around his body for injury.

  “I’m fine,” Darnuir sobbed, finally opening his eyes. “Eve. Where is—”

  “She’s back with Garon. She’s safe,” Cosmo said. “I doubt there are more. That looked like a pup. Must have been alone and starving to venture this close to Cold Point. Poor thing.”

  Darnuir shook violently, though it could not be from the cold. He was not cold; in fact, he could feel the sweat upon his face. He rocked uncontrollably and Cosmo wrapped his arms around him. “I’m sorry…” he wailed.

  “Sorry?” Cosmo said. “Whatever for?”

  “I didn’t know what to do,” Darnuir said. “I was too afraid.” He continued to cry, pressing his face into Cosmo’s furs.

  “Shhhh,” Cosmo said, holding him tight. “It’s okay to be afraid. It’s only,” he paused, “well, it’s only human.”

  *** Three Years Later ***

  Darnuir, Eve and Balack joined Grace in a teary farewell to Olive as they awaited her hunter escort down to Farlen.

  “Are you sure?” Grace asked her for perhaps the hundredth time that morning alone.

  “Absolutely,” she reassured her sister. “It’s time I moved on. I’ve got a position working for Lord Boreac himself. I’ll find a new life in Brevia.”

  “You have one here!” Grace reminded her.

  Olive took her hands. “I’m not really needed anymore. Things are stable again; the children are all moving on to the hunters soon and you have Cosmo.” She choked a little on her words. “I’ll send word when I reach the city. Maybe one day you will come visit me?” Her tone was optimistic but they all knew that was unlikely to occur anytime soon. Cosmo held some major grievances against the capital, and it would take a great deal of convincing to get him to travel there. Grace sobbed in agreement with Olive’s request while the two embraced in a long hug. As they parted, a band of hunters came into sight. Garon was leading them and this was to be his command. He would see Olive safe out of the Boreac Mountains, where she would join other travellers and link up with hunters from the Southern Dales to take them further north towards the Crown Lands.

  Olive gave them all one last kiss on the cheek.

  Darnuir found it hard to decide what she meant to him. Neither of the two women were quite like mothers to them, for they had spread their care over many charges. Yet over the years, the older children had been taken in by the hunters and, one by one, it was just the three of them left. Their family was an unusual one, but a family nonetheless. Unlike Eve, Darnuir resisted crying, although he felt that familiar hot and prickly sensation play on the tip of his nose. They stood silently and watched as Olive walked off with the hunters, disappearing from their lives.

  *** Six Months Later ***

  Darnuir crept carefully forwards. Balack and Eve were right behind him as they approached the hunter station. Their three-day journey down from Cold Point was almost at an end, though the station could only be accessed by a narrow road high above the town of Ascent. When the station drew in sight, it seemed to teeter upon the mountainside. Yet the building was quite sturdy and the most elaborate construction within the whole range. The bulk of the station was stone rather than wood, with slated and angled roofs to direct the snow downwards. Three semi-circular observation decks stretched out like enormous balconies, granting unimpeded views of the Boreac Mountains. Nestled high above the valley where the town of Ascent lay, legend told it was once the site of a dragon nest in ages past. Darnuir cared little whether this was true or not. It certainly seemed high and remote enough to have been the nest of some enormous creature. He risked a glance down to the valley below. Ascent seemed miniscule in the distance, as did the crystalline body of water near it, a cold turquoise in colour.

  At fifteen years old, Darnuir, Balack and Eve could now formally join the hunters. Darnuir and Balack were already well advanced in their martial skills, thanks to Cosmo and Garon. Eve was lousy with a sword and bow, so opted to follow Grace in becoming a healer instead. As they drew up to the station’s entrance, Darnuir took note of the heaviness of the gate, the trapdoor above it, and the numerous slits in the front wall from arrow fire.

  The familiar face of Cosmo greeted them as they entered, and he took them straight to Captain Tael in the main hall. Other than themselves, Cosmo and Tael, the hall was empty. The braziers that lined the hall were lit to provide warmth high in the mountain cold and, at the top, the Captain stood in front of a wall adorned by the stuffed heads of their largest kills. The head of the largest brown bear Darnuir had ever seen was mounted there, its paws alongside it, outstretched as if welcoming them all to a dinner of which they were the main course. The three would-be recruits formed a little row before the Captain, and Cosmo went to take his place on Tael’s right.

  Captain Tael was by no means an aged man but he was the eldest of all the hunters. He was a short man, in no way aided by a wound suffered to his right leg, leaving him reliant upon a sturdy walking stick. The colour was fast draining from his thick beard and thinning hair, but his eyes and demeanour were of a kindly nature.

  “It is a particular delight to bring you three into our ranks this day,” Tael said. “Through Cosmo and Garon, I feel like I already know you all and, I must say, I expect great things.”

  Darnuir grinned at Eve and Balack, feeling proud.

  “Yet do not think you shall receive an easier time here,” Tael continued. “Becoming a fully-trained hunter is no easy feat. You will learn not only to fight but how to track, how to build homes, how to make the most of the animals you slay; for we are not mere butchers here. You must learn discipline, you must learn how to cope with hard living, and you must, above all, learn compassion for both beast and man. Perhaps you may even come to know yourselves—”

  “Apologies, Captain,” a deep voice said from a side door, interrupting Tael’s well-rehearsed speech, “Garon has just returned from patrol in the lower hills. He claims they have encountered demons.” The hunter was rather tall, with broad shoulders, cropped hair and a crooked nose.

  Tael swallowed hard and then quickly looked from Cosmo to the other man.

  “Thank you, Rufus,” Tael said. “Is anyone injured?”

  “Garon has a nasty cut,” Rufus said. “He went straight to the healers, else he would have delivered the message to you personally. His patrol was taken by surprise but thankfully there were no deaths.” Darnuir, Eve and Balack exchanged nervous looks.

  Darnuir’s heart quickened. What could this mean?

  “Cosmo…” Tael began.

  “I’ll go immediately,” Cosmo said.

  “Take a group of our finest,” Tael instructed. “We have to know the extent of this. Take Griswald too, in case things get troublesome.”

  “I’m sorry,” Cosmo said to the three would-be recruits. “I will see you when I return. Rufus, with me?”

  “Of course,” Rufus said, and the two men hurried off.

  *** One Year Later ***

  Darnuir and Balack were standing in awkward star shapes beside their beds in the barracks. This allowed Grace and Eve to attach pieces of white and grey leather around them with precision. The garments looked patchy and ragged now but, when finished, the boys would have their first set of hunter armour; layered for warmth and reinforced at the shoulders, forearms and chest. Of course, it was incapable of deflecting an arrow or halting a piercing blade, but would cushion bludgeoning hits and allowed complete freedom of movement. After a year of training, they would soon be sent out on their first patrols.

  “Try not to fidget so much, Balack,” Eve requested, as she delicately angled her pin.

  “Sorry,” he grumbled, his eyes following Eve’s every move.

  The women continued their work but Grace increasingly hid her face from Darnuir. Once completed, she stood back to check if everything was in order. She was crying.

  “Grace, what is wrong?”
he asked.

  “It’s just, well, oh, it doesn’t matter,” she sobbed. Eve moved quietly over to her and took her hand.

  “Grace?” she inquired in her most gentle tone.

  “I’m fine, dear,” Grace began in the saddest voice Darnuir had ever heard her utter. “It’s just, when I was your age, Eve, I must have helped dozens of them prepare like this. Many never came back. Then Castallan turned on us and the lower towns were destroyed one by one, and all those poor, torn families – their fathers, brothers, sisters or children – all dead. I just… it just…”

  “Three demon encounters in a year isn’t much,” Darnuir said. “It is not like before.”

  Grace snapped her head back up. “And how long will this last? Hmmm? Do you think all this bliss will just carry on?” She swept out of the room, leaving the three of them in a nervous silence.

  What might lie ahead finally dawned on Darnuir. He had never seen a demon before, let alone fought one. Eve stood frozen, her hand still out-stretched as if it still contained Grace’s. Balack was stony-faced. A second passed, which felt like an hour, before Eve rounded on the two of them.

  “One of you could get hurt,” she said dramatically. “One of you might get hurt or worse. Promise me,” she exclaimed, “promise me that you won’t get hurt.”

  It was an impossible promise but Darnuir nodded all the same. He and Balack moved towards Eve and they embraced as a group.

  “Eve, don’t worry,” Balack told her, “we will only ever be out on large patrols at first. The demons won’t attack a large group, at least they haven’t yet. And they won’t put us deliberately into combat for a few years.”

  “Don’t be so naïve,” she sniffled. “If the war did break out again, they would use everyone they have.”

  “But until that day, we will be fine,” Balack said.

  “That’s just it though,” Eve said, looking Balack straight in the eye, “it will come. It has to. We all know it. We’ve just been trying to forget.” As Eve placed her tear-ridden face on Darnuir’s shoulder, he noticed Balack’s mouth twitch and his eyes harden.

  Chapter 6

  TIME FLIES

  Part 2: A Prelude To War

  *** Three Years Later ***

  AN ARROW WHIRRED past Darnuir’s shoulder as he finished a pendulum swing against the opposing demon. After dispatching his adversary, he crouched as the momentum carried him forward, before delivering an upward cut to the next foe. The subsequent demon to attack him caught him slightly off-guard and deflected Darnuir’s sword. It raised its barbed blade, rusted and cruel, then dropped it suddenly when an arrow stuck the creature through the neck. Darnuir spun and saw Balack off to his right, drawing a fresh arrow as he nodded to him. Blessing Balack’s incredible accuracy, Darnuir gathered himself and assessed the situation.

  Of the thirty hunters that had set off from Farlen two days ago, perhaps twenty remained. The youngest recruits had suffered hardest. Demons had ambushed them in an area they thought would be safe.

  “Reform!” Garon screamed at the top of his lungs. “Regroup!”

  Obediently, the surviving hunters clustered around him. Those with bows dispatched the remaining demons and the skirmish ended with the last twang of a bowstring.

  “Stay alert,” Garon told them, “there will be more.”

  “How do you know that?” a recruit squeaked in fear.

  “That was too small a group to be ranging without spectre control,” Garon answered. “And if there are no spectres with them then stay alert at any rate. Without spectres, they are unpredictable.”

  Darnuir darted his eyes around the vicinity, his heart missing a beat at the faintest sign of movement: a bush rustling in the breeze, a small stone rolling off the mountainside, the shadow of a tree swaying against the rock.

  “Garon?” Darnuir murmured. “Over there, is that shadow writhing?”

  “Let me see,” Garon said pushing his way through their ranks, his bow drawn. “Yes, I fear it is a spectre. Keep me covered until I say so.” The rest of the men complied and kept tightly packed, hiding Garon from view. “Balack? With me. Are you ready?”

  Balack nodded and notched an arrow.

  “Now!” Garon ordered in a fierce whisper.

  The men split, Garon and Balack rose, took aim and fired at the peculiar shadow. Moments before the arrows hit their mark, four large creatures leaped forth from the bulging shadow. As tall as men, with flickering fire on their head for hair, and bodies composed of a swirling, dark substance, so thick that it might have been flesh, spectres were the demons Darnuir feared most. Spectral demons, better known as spectres, were stronger, smarter and far better fighters than regular demons. They could also merge themselves into shadows and move along them at will, vanishing and reappearing, even in the midst of battle. Common demons could not do this and seemed to lack sense. They were wild without spectres to guide them.

  Of the spectres who had just sprung from the shadow of the tree, the straggler of the group was caught by one of the arrows. The remaining three spectres glanced quickly around for another shadow to escape to. Finding none, they stood still, seemingly accepting their fate. By then, Darnuir and the rest were on them. His first strike met only air as the spectre vanished before his eyes. Somewhere behind, he heard a death scream. Whirling around, he saw the same spectre he had just tried to kill cutting down one hunter, then another, before the other hunters descended upon it to avenge their fallen comrades.

  “Spread out!” Garon cried. “Don’t let our shadows touch or they will travel between us!”

  Hastily, they spread out, and the remaining spectres found themselves trapped without any escape routes. Arrows were loosed, cutting down the furthest spectre and forcing its last comrade to dive wildly to avoid the projectiles. It must have found a shadow in a crack in the mountainside, for it seemed to disappear entirely.

  Garon thrust his hand out to tell them all to stay back and went alone to the point where the spectre had disappeared. After a quick examination, Garon stabbed into a measly-sized spot, surely too small for even a bug to hide. His sword seemed to do the impossible by entering the rock itself. When he withdrew it, the body of the slain spectre was dragged out with it, its smoking blood dancing around Garon.

  *** Five Months Later ***

  What had begun as a peaceful day was now a snowstorm; an unusual occurrence in the town of Farlen, as it was at one of the lowest lying areas of the Boreac Mountains. Save for a few feet, nothing of the outside world was visible from within Farlen’s inn. Darnuir had gathered there, along with many of the hunters, anxiously awaiting word from Brevia. Messengers had been sent to the Cairlav Marshes, the Southern Dales, the Crown Lands, and the master station at Brevia itself, requesting information and aid. Skirmishes were regular events now, with perhaps one in every three patrols meeting demons. Their bands had also steadily increased in size, which only meant more hunter casualties. The people of the lower Boreac Mountains had been told to seek refuge in Farlen until the situation improved. Outlying farms and lumber mills were too vulnerable and many had already been raided.

  “I think I’ll get another one,” Balack said, as he finished sipping his ale and carefully put the tankard down. “Does anyone else want one?” he added as he got to his feet.

  “Just needle brew, if there is any,” Darnuir said.

  “Doubt it,” said Garon. “Hard thing to harvest when demons are likely lurking up the same tree.”

  “Then nothing, thanks Balack,” Darnuir said. Ale always seemed to go straight to his head. The term ‘light-weight’ had been bandied about.

  “Cosmo?” Balack asked, though it was more of a courtesy. Two empty tankards already lay before him and he clearly had a thirst today.

  “Err, yes,” Cosmo said absentmindedly before he slipped back into whatever pensive state he had been in.

  “Cosmo, are you alright?” Darnuir asked.

  “Let him stew,” Garon said. “Likely marital troubles,” g
iving a wince at the thought. “Not for me, I tell you. Why settle for one arrow in the quiver?”

  Darnuir laughed quietly and said, “Not all men are like you, Garon. Your reputation with the ladies is unrivalled. Stopping by some farm, mill or smaller village, and, by all accounts, going out of your way to help—”

  “So what?” Garon said. “I can’t help it if the girls are grateful. Who am I to deny their thanks?”

  “Try telling that to Balack,” Darnuir said.

  “He wants what he wants,” said Garon. “Some people are just like that, like our mute here.” He nodded at Cosmo. “But you, lad. What do you want?”

  “To be Captain,” Darnuir said without hesitation.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Garon said wryly.

  “I know,” Darnuir said. “But in that respect, there is nothing I want.” It was the truth. Sword and battle lured him more. Something in him itched to get back out there.

  “Fancy yourself as a leader?” Garon said, as if holding onto some secret knowledge.

  “One day. I quite like the idea of being in charge.”

  “Well you’re in good company then. He’ll be captain after Tael, even if he doesn’t want it,” said Garon, nodding at Cosmo. “Stick around and I’m sure he’ll hand it over to you as soon as he can.” He spoke as if Cosmo was not there.

  Balack returned, thudding their drinks on the table. Cosmo reached silently for his and took a good, long draught.

  “Grace is pregnant,” Cosmo said flatly, as if the prospect held no joy in it at all. Garon gave another pained, little wince.

  “Congratulations?” Balack said.

  “It’s a terrible time for it,” Cosmo said.

  “Better than open war,” Darnuir said. “Better than twenty years ago. Will there ever be a good time?”

  “If war comes when the child is still a babe, Grace will need so much help,” Cosmo said.

  “We don’t know that it will,” Garon said. Cosmo mumbled something incoherently as he returned to his drink. Upon resurfacing, Darnuir saw he had the look of one preparing to reveal ill news. Garon must have seen it too. “You wouldn’t abandon us, would you?”