The Dragon's Blade: The Reborn King

by Michael R. Miller

  “Not permanently, no,” Cosmo admitted.

  “But we’ll need you,” Darnuir insisted. “Few are more experienced or skilled than you.”

  “There are plenty of fine fighters,” Cosmo said.

  “But few leaders,” Darnuir said. “Who else am I to learn from?”

  Cosmo’s eyes fell upon Garon.

  “Me?” Garon said, astonished. “Come now, Cosmo. There are plenty of your own generation who would be better suited.”

  Cosmo smiled. “In any case, Tael is your captain. And I believe I see him waving me over, excuse me. Come Garon.”

  Darnuir felt a twang of jealousy as Garon left with Cosmo. He was always included in important matters. Garon was his real protégé. So what does that make me?

  “So, heard from Eve recently?” Balack asked, leaning forward in his chair.

  “Not by letter. The last time I spoke to her was our check-in at the station last month,” Darnuir said.

  “I just received a letter today,” Balack said smugly. “Apparently Harris ‘approached’ her last week when his patrol went to check in.”

  “Oh, did he now?” Darnuir said, intrigued.

  “Yes, he did. She turned him down though,” Balack said, barely concealing a smirk. “Told him there was ‘someone else’.”

  “Poor Harris. He must have been rather brave to be so forward with her,” Darnuir said pointedly. Balack did a double-take.

  “Well, I admire his courage but it was always going to be a futile attempt.”

  “Was it?” Darnuir asked, toying with him.

  “Oh come on now! Eve is, well, you know Eve, and Harris is just, well, he is just Harris, isn’t he?”

  “A masterful argument as always,” Darnuir said. He flicked his finger against one of Cosmo’s empty tankards to give him something to do.

  “If you are going to be difficult, I’ll change topic,” Balack grumped.

  “No, I don’t think we should change topic,” Darnuir said as calmly as he could, trying to avoid arousing anger. “I think we should have it all out now because it’s obvious you want to discuss it. Why else bring it up?”

  “What are you talking about, Darnuir?”

  “Eve,” said Darnuir. “How you are in love with her. How you always have been.”

  Balack choked on his drink and spluttered back into the conversation. “How did you—”

  “I’m not blind, Balack,” Darnuir said in a strained voice. “Nor am I senseless in any other respect. And don’t try and pretend like we haven’t had this exact same conversation in the past.”

  “But we haven’t!” Balack exclaimed under his breath. Darnuir just held his gaze. “Why are you so insistent I do something about it?” Balack bemoaned.

  “Because if you don’t tell her soon, it is evident that others will, and she might just respond in kind to one of them.”

  “A few demons harass us and suddenly everyone is making hasty decisions,” Balack said.

  “The threat of war is doing that,” Darnuir said, rather more seriously.

  “We don’t know that yet,” Balack said, “we just don’t. Besides, even if war does break out, we are hardly a priority target for Castallan.”

  “Maybe not but we will be an easy one,” Darnuir reminded him. “The Boreacs lie so close to the Bastion and a few hundred hunters will not last for long against a large force.”

  “Even so, we are no threat to his flank and he would be dealing with our actual armies – surely?”

  A thunderous bang ended all conversation and drew all eyes. The doors to the inn swung violently open in the howling wind, whipping in the snow along with it. Three hunters and two huntresses stood exhausted in the doorway, carrying something that was clearly a body, wrapped up in one of their cloaks. Darnuir was not familiar with any of them. They dragged themselves inside and stood there until another hunter thought it best to shut the doors behind them. Captain Tael was the first to break the silence. Despite his age and injuries, he determinedly rose and spoke with a voice of authority.

  “If the news is ill then be out with it, Ava.”

  “Sir,” the closest huntress began, “we arrived at the check-point where poor Aelfric and his team should have met us, only to find his head mounted…” Her voice cracked a little. “His body was some way away. There was no sign of the others.”

  “Mounted on what?” someone asked. “Demons don’t have pikes or spears.”

  “They stuck his sword into the earth and then rammed his head onto the hilt,” Ava said.

  A few seconds of mournful silence took over the men.

  “They are getting too confident,” Tael commented, appearing unfazed. “I want patrol groups doubled in size from now on.”

  “Captain,” Ava continued, “this was crammed into Aelfric’s mouth.” She held up a piece of remarkably grubby paper with a slanted scrawl upon it. “It only has your name on it, sir.”

  “What trickery is that warlock playing on us?” Tael asked aloud. “Was there anything else?”

  “No, sir. Nothing at all.”

  “Very well then, bring me this message.”

  As soon as Tael took the letter into his hand, Darnuir felt a strange sensation of going deaf. He was not the only one, for all gathered in the room hastily turned to each other and some grabbed their ears in alarm. Darnuir tried to lip-read what Balack was saying but couldn’t make him out. As suddenly as it had occurred, the deafness vanished and was replaced by a deep, assured voice that carried an air of theatricality. It seemed to ring throughout the whole tavern but also from right beside Darnuir, and from inside his head all at once. It was intrusive. It was unnerving.

  “To all who would stand against me, I bid that you halt your hopeless thoughts.” Darnuir shifted uneasily in his seat, his mood swiftly turning to despair. “For too long have my desires gone unheeded.”

  The voice is right, Darnuir thought. It is hopeless. Why even try?

  “But the time of peace is over,” the voice went on. “Capitulate and you shall live. Join me and step into a new age for humanity. Fight, however, and you will see no end to my forces, no end to my determination. Fight me and you shall die.”

  No hope. No hope. No hope. He could not think otherwise.

  “I send this message to all the provinces of men, to whom I offer the hand of friendship. Why fight for the fairies that look down on you, or the dragons who have long abandoned you. Lay down your weapons and my hand shall be extended to you. Resist, and I shall retract my hand forever.”

  No one was quick to stir and the deadly stillness within the tavern remained unbroken for a long minute. Those few who moved were slow and lethargic, as if their joints were thawing out from a freeze.

  “Some things never change,” Tael said. “For those of you too young to remember the last war, Castallan sent a similar message. Enchanted words to make us all feel our worst. The only difference this time is his ploy about the ‘hand of mercy’; well, I for one believe none of it!” His casual brushing aside of Castallan’s intrusion did not seem to reassure everyone. Darnuir, for one, still had the uncanny feeling of depression and nausea.

  “Cosmo!” Tael commanded.

  “Yes, Captain?” Cosmo replied.

  “I know you do not want this but I see no one else as qualified or respected in our ranks,” and he looked very hard at Cosmo, almost imploringly. “I require you to take my place as captain while I travel to Brevia for reinforcements. If there is to be war, the Boreacs will need more men.”

  “Sir…” Cosmo began, his face grave, “I understand.”

  *** Three Months Later ***

  Darnuir and Eve were out on one of the station’s observation platforms. The lack of wind and snow made for a clear picture of the landscape and Ascent seemed oddly close. Eve was in her hunter’s garb. Though she was not trained for combat, it was still required uniform.

  “What do you mean Tael is dead?” she asked.

  “I know it is hard to stomach
but it’s true,” Darnuir said. “Our new captain is called Scythe. He is overseeing the defence of Farlen.”

  “But when?” Eve moaned. “How?”

  “The details are fuzzy,” Darnuir said. “Tael made it to Brevia but it seems he must have passed away not long after arriving. Perhaps the journey took it out of him. He was getting on.”

  “He wasn’t so old that he couldn’t travel,” Eve said. “And aside from his leg, he was fit enough.”

  “You know as much as I do,” Darnuir said, throwing his hands up. “Scythe turned up with some three hundred reinforcements about two weeks ago, with a decree from the master station conferring him as Captain. Lord Boreac himself nominated the man.”

  “Lord Boreac is a dithering oaf who hasn’t visited these mountains since I had pigtails,” Eve said. “What does he know? What do any of them know in Brevia? What about Cosmo?”

  “Cosmo was more than willing to step aside,” Darnuir said. “He was relieved if truth be told. You know he never wanted the command.”

  “You don’t sound thrilled by the situation.”

  “I don’t know Scythe well enough to feel anything towards him,” Darnuir said. “He’s been doing a fine job though and he has been quick to get to know us. He leads from the front and is one of the best swordsmen I’ve seen.”

  “Better than you?” Eve asked with a little laugh.

  He shrugged. “Maybe one day we can put that to the test.”

  “I’ll have my stitching needles and bandages ready,” she teased. “Can’t let you bleed to death.” She rapped him on the shoulder when he did not respond. “Don’t be so sour!” She had come closer in an effort to hit him and did not move back afterwards. Her proximity made Darnuir a little uncomfortable.

  “Have you heard from Balack?” he asked.

  “I got a letter three days ago but he always writes,” she said off-hand.

  “Anything interesting?” he asked.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary, well at least for these times. Why? Should there be something ‘interesting’?” There was the faintest hint of suspicion to her tone.

  Darnuir was disappointed. His hopes for Balack seemed poorly placed. He’d better do it soon. Our time back at the station is becoming ever more limited.

  “No news is good news,” Darnuir said by way of answer. “I just haven’t seen him of late. Our patrols rarely cross paths.”

  She didn’t seem to pay much attention to his answer. Her hand had somehow fallen lightly upon his own. He grew tense at her touch.

  “I just want you to be safe,” she said. “Both of you, I mean. Of course both of you.” Unsure of what to say, he carefully extracted his hand and gently patted hers, staring determinedly out at the valley below.

  *** One Month Later ***

  Farlen was on fire. Darnuir watched the town burn at some distance and brushed away the stinging liquid streaming into his eyes; a mixture of sweat, so intense was the heat, and snow melting into rain on its downward journey.

  “Darnuir, move it!” Scythe called to him. “I said move,” the Captain demanded, appearing suddenly at his side and hauling him away by the shoulder.

  Darnuir shrugged him off, turning bitterly from the site of their failure. Scythe was sporting a nasty cut to his cheek but otherwise looked unharmed. His tall, sinewy frame and thin face was made even starker in the flickering shadows of the fire. Though he appeared gaunt, Scythe was far stronger than his frame and forty-five years suggested. He was a brilliant swordsman and marksman. Darnuir had seen him make a nigh on impossible shot during the recent battle alone. Thinning, oak-coloured hair receded up his forehead and his nose was sharp, as if worked by a whetstone.

  The pair joined the remaining hunters, retreating up one of the small passageways between the rocks. Cosmo had ordered all the main routes to be blocked long ago. Darnuir saw Balack waiting for him up ahead, leaning breathless against one of the rare evergreen trees that had turned silver. The thought of needle brew warmed Darnuir’s spirits as he trudged towards it. Balack was sporting the gore of battle but thankfully, he seemed to have avoided injury. His quiver now contained only a handful of arrows. Scythe proceeded past them as they embraced then returned to their solemn march higher into the mountains.

  No one spoke. Not for hours.

  *** Two Months Later ***

  Ascent braced itself for attack. The demons had been fighting through the few open paths that remained for weeks. The hunters had been laying traps and ambushes but no matter how many demons they killed, more continued to come. Their numbers seemed limitless, as if there was a constant flow of reinforcements, which was surely out of all proportion to the importance of the Boreac Mountains. Nobody understood it. Despite their relatively small casualties, the relentless drive of the demons was taking its toll on their morale. However, even with Cosmo’s, Garon’s and Scythe’s excellent on-site decisions, the Hunters of the Boreac Mountains were slowly bleeding men and women. One hundred had already perished, meaning their force now stood at seven hundred. If the hunters were to be caught in an open sword fight, the sheer number of demons would certainly overwhelm them. This worry was shared throughout the ranks. If Ascent fell then the resources and haven of the station would be cut off from Cold Point.

  When battle inevitably came, Balack and Darnuir stood side by side, picking off what demons they could with their bows from their vantage point on a high ledge above the column of demons below. The two friends were on this ledge alone, though other pairs of hunters were dotted on similar heights above the massing demons. In the darkness, they were virtually undetectable, and Darnuir was not worried by spectre attacks, for there were no shadows cast near them. The mere fact that it was dark did not allow them to turn incorporeal and move in that fashion. Spectres seemed to require a true shadow to meld into. The demons below seemed unconcerned about the arrows being rained upon them. They just gathered in the passage, waiting for the demons up ahead to break down the gates, and paid little attention to their surroundings. A screech like daggers on rock came from close to the town, and all at once, the demons began to surge forwards.

  “The gates must have fallen,” Darnuir said in alarm. The clank of metal and the roar of battle raged off in the distance.

  “Our men will be overcome, Darnuir!” Balack shouted over the shrieking of the demons.

  “We can’t help them by returning; two more swords won’t help!” Darnuir yelled back.

  “Then what do we do?”

  “I don’t know!” Darnuir wailed, his voice cracking. He wheeled around, looking helplessly for a solution.

  “There!” Balack shouted, pointing to a large boulder, situated precariously on the ledge. “Block the path with that!”

  “We tried moving that before, remember?”

  “No we didn’t!” Balack yelled, and positively shoved him along the rocky ledge. “It was Griswald and Garon who tried to move it.”

  “If Griswald can’t nudge it then neither will we!” Darnuir screamed back over the din. “It’s an enormous hunk of rock!”

  “We have to try, don’t we?” Balack told him, and ran to hack at a thick branch on a nearby tree. Darnuir aided him in his attempt to find a lever. Once they obtained a sizeable branch, they thrust it in under a small crack in the boulder’s underside and pressed down on the end of the wood with all their might. Nothing happened.

  “Come on!” Balack bellowed.

  “I’m giving it all I’ve got,” Darnuir assured him, but still the thing would not budge.

  “Gah!” Balack exclaimed as the branch fractured in two. “It’s no use.”

  “Damn it!” Darnuir bawled, slamming his palms against the rock. “Move, move, move!” he cried, and then, in a moment of complete foolishness, he struck out with his booted foot, as if to kick the rock, and with a force guaranteed to do him injury. This fleeting thought passed through his mind but he couldn’t stop, he was too angry. His foot connected with the boulder, but this time, the boulder move
d. It crept forward then crashed off the ledge, picking up speed as it went, gathering more debris as it landed on the demons below. Smaller stones rained like hail after it, and smaller trees and snow were churned up in a mini avalanche, blocking off the narrowest section of the passageway. It sent the demons into complete disarray.

  “Dranus’ black hide!” Balack cursed, aghast. “How did you do that?”

  “I haven’t a clue,” Darnuir answered honestly and inspected his foot. His worn black boots seemed a little more frayed underfoot but otherwise he seemed unharmed. He put his weight back on his foot and remarkably, it took it. Somehow, he had avoided straining a muscle or breaking a bone.

  My ankle should have bent backwards. That boulder must have begun to fall at the last moment, it must have.

  Shaking somewhat, he slowly sat down and then collapsed backwards from shock. Balack lay down as well and Darnuir turned to face him. They looked intensely at each other and then began to laugh, quietly at first, and then they positively doubled over in hysteria.

  ***

  Darnuir, Eve and Balack eventually found an empty table after many circuits of the hall. The party was in full swing, thrown in celebration of their victory at Ascent earlier that week. Darnuir had been hailed as a hero when Balack told everyone their story, but he still insisted that he could not explain it.

  “It must have already been falling,” Garon offered. “I don’t see how else it could have happened.”

  “I agree,” Cosmo had said. “What you are is lucky. You would have caved in your own foot had it not rolled at the last moment.”

  For the most part, nobody much cared for how it had happened, just that it had. Balack and Darnuir had been given first pick of the ale, which had been taken off ration for the occasion. Scouts sent out after the battle reported that the demons retreated a good distance and had not moved since. It would take them several days at least to march this far into the mountains again, once they had regrouped, so Scythe had ordered the party take place now. At first, everyone seemed uneasy about enjoying themselves so much, especially under orders, but once the idea settled on their minds, it quickly became apparent that everyone present was in need of a night without patrol, watch, worry or battle. Indeed, Balack appeared fresher than Darnuir had seen him in months, though perhaps that was the ale taking effect. Eve too looked more like her old self: her blonde hair was hanging loose once more and danced around her face and the nape of her neck in an enchanting rhythm. His eyes lingered on her for a moment and she caught him, giving him an earnest smile in return. Balack’s eyes flicked between them and Darnuir snapped back to observing the hall at large. There was the distinct slam of an empty tankard on the table.