The Heir (Fall of the Swords Book 3)

by Scott Michael Decker

  Twice he had mated. Both mates had called him Infinite-blessed after two months in his house. At the beginning of the mateships, when he told them of his devotion to his work, both had closed their minds. Neither mate had borne him a child, for which he was grateful. He didn't have a mate now, nor did he think he would mate again. To make a relationship work simply took too much time.

  At times he felt lonely. Greater than that loneliness was his desire to exterminate the bandits. He couldn't have articulated why. He had had the desire so long he didn't know how to put the reason into words. In the words of a girl he would never know, killing bandits was his “terrible purpose.”

  He slowed to a walk as he reached his street. Fewer people than usual were out, most likely because of the funeral. Approaching his house, he saw four guards standing at attention on his small front lawn.

  Striding up to them, he said in a crisp, commanding voice, “What are you doing here?”

  Not one of them spoke. In the doorway behind them appeared Healing Hand, as blond as the Colonel. “There you are, Lord Gaze. Spying Eagle and I thought we'd have to go look for you.” He stepped toward the Colonel. On the medacor's heels was the Wizard, brown of eye, of hair, of skin.

  “Why were you in my house?” he asked rudely.

  “The Lord Heir Flaming Arrow wants to talk with you—at length,” Spying Eagle replied, slapping the sectathon on the shoulder. “He's as interested in you as you in him, my friend. You and he share an obsession: Bandits.”

  “Quite an environment you live in,” Healing Hand added, gesturing toward the house. “Let's go see the Heir, Lord Gaze.”

  The sectathon frowned at them. “What's this about?”

  Spying Eagle stepped up to him and grabbed the lapel of his robes in one hand. “Look, Lord Gaze, the Heir's planning something with the bandits, and it won't be an Imperial Ball. He won't talk about it and that's when he's most likely to do something dangerous or stupid. I want you to tell him about yourself, so he might tell us what he's thinking and planning. I don't ask much.”

  Probing Gaze saw real fear in both men's eyes and forgave them their behavior. “All right, Lords, let's go.”

  The three men began the walk to Emparia Castle.

  Chapter 4

  The main cavern of the Elk Raiders' home is what remains of a large lava tube. Aeons ago, lava cooled across the bottom, making the tube semi-circular. Into the mountain, the tube extends. At a quarter-mile underground, the tube pitches gradually downward, ending a mile deep at a spring of hot sulfurous water. Somewhere far beneath, the water meets magma, sending scalding steam up through the water. The original pool was too hot for bathing and too sulfurous for drinking. A member of the Elk Raiders constructed a nearby pool that, with proper management, was just right for bathing. Nearer the exit, where the lava tube vomited half-digested rock onto open ground, the vent collapsed in cooling, closing the mouth. With a few changes, the Elk Raiders made the entrance highly defensible, now a meandering corridor carved through volcanic rock. Beyond this corridor the band made its home. The central cavern served as a communal room, with alcoves and caves off this cavern serving as individual rooms.—The Political Geography, by Guarding Bear.

  * * *

  “Lord Leaping Elk, I humbly offer my soul and my sword to you and the Elk Raiders. I swear to fight beside you and, Infinite forbid it, to give my life for you.” Seeking Sword bowed to the dark-skinned bandit.

  Leaping Elk straightened an imaginary wrinkle in his robes. When Seeking Sword had formally asked for an audience, he had stated a time and day. Then he had brought out his finest clothing, wanting to be presentable for such a momentous occasion. He guessed that the young man might ask to join his band.

  Watching the young man with a careful eye, the dark bandit remembered the dreams that had haunted his sleep sixteen years ago. Dreams of a bronze-haired man bearing a striking resemblance to the traitor Brazen Bear. Dreams of great bloodshed, of hard times for bandits, of change for the Elk Raiders, of death for Scowling Tiger.

  After the birth of the Imperial Arrow Twins, the dreams had stopped. A few years later, Leaping Elk had become aware that two people were invisible to his trace prescient talent: The Heir Flaming Arrow and this lowly bandit Seeking Sword. Leaping Elk felt that something connected the bandit and the Heir. He couldn't fathom what the connection was, however.

  Now the young man wanted to join his band.

  Torn, Leaping Elk frowned.

  Seeking Sword was as good a fighter as he had seen, despite his lack of psychic talent. Leaping Elk had given the young man the best teaching within his meager means, by members of the Elk Raiders and by the itinerant mentors available through the Bandit Council. Seeking Sword had displayed an aptitude for and a love of learning, a combination of traits rare in a person.

  He was a mystery, however. Besides being reticent, the young man was unpredictable, his values unknown, his motives unclear, his future obscure. Seeking Sword represents change, Leaping Elk knew intuitively—violent change.

  I've become comfortable with my simple if impoverished existence, he thought, asking himself whether he wanted change or boredom. “Sword Lord,” the negroid bandit said, “humble bandit service for teachings accept given. Ten year teach, ten year serve, eh?”

  “Yes, Lord Leaping Elk,” Seeking Sword said, bowing low.

  Leaping Elk gave a cursory nod, as befitted his station. I doubt I'll get ten years of service from him, he thought, knowing this a stepping stone for Seeking Sword. “Which want, Sword Lord: Hunt or raid?” Of the two sources of sustenance, hunting was the easier. Leaping Elk knew Seeking Sword a good hunter. The young man often brought game to the caves. As yet, he hadn't fought or raided, untried on the battlefield.

  “Raid, Lord Elk,” Seeking Sword said immediately.

  Occasionally, a young man from the interior of the empty northern lands came south with a similar request, seeking a place among the bands who lived by raiding across the border. Leaping Elk always turned away these dream-blinded youths, knowing them blithely unaware of the terrible realities of border living. Seeking Sword was no such youth, having often been present when a raiding party had returned, the members exhausted, injured, maimed, dying.

  Leaping Elk nodded. They were alone in Leaping Elk's personal cave, carved from solid rock off a passage from the larger cavern. Situated far back from the entrance, Leaping Elk's rooms were actually above the lava tube itself. A winding corridor from the side of the tube led up to them. Known only to himself, to Slithering Snake, and to his mate Fawning Elk, was a second egress leading to an entrance on the side of the mountain. A thick stand of manzanita concealed that end, the tapestry behind him the other.

  Ever since the talisman tiger from his brother's menagerie had begun to serve the bandit girl Purring Tiger, Leaping Elk had found his secret egress essential. His bandits would have otherwise questioned his regular liaisons with the animal. The egress was there, also, should he ever need to escape a frontal attack on the caves.

  “Before you raid, you obey know need, group as work, group as fight.” Leaping Elk spoke carefully, his grasp of the Eastern language tenuous. “Snake Lord better say. I not words know.”

  “Yes, Lord Elk. He explained a little about this type of fighting. I need to learn more. May I ask why you have a second entrance?”

  Involuntarily, Leaping Elk glanced at the heavy tapestry covering his secret entrance. “How you know? Who you it there be say?”

  “No one told me, Lord Elk,” Seeking Sword said, looking embarrassed to have caused the older man to panic. “I felt a draft. Your being the leader, I thought a second entrance sensible.”

  Leaping Elk admired the way the young man had drawn a conclusion based on minimal information. “You smart, Sword Lord. Smart stay and no one say, eh?”

  “Yes, Lord, I won't tell anyone.”

  “What you when other band you join ask say?”

  Seeking Sword took a moment to unravel the
other's knotted speech. “I'll decline, Lord. I have a debt to you and the Elk Raiders.”

  “Good. You with girl Quick Thinking friend. She Raider Tiger, Tiger Scowling you about tell. He interest be, I not why know.” The girl Thinking Quick, like Seeking Sword, was invisible to his prescient sight. Leaping Elk knew the reason: The girl was herself prescient.

  “Perhaps, Lord, she may have told him about me, except that I met them both about ten months ago, miles north of the fortress.”

  “He you like,” Leaping Elk said, pointing at the young man. “He ask me you watch. You and father, uh, argue have, you my band join ask. Tiger Lord not like, you his warrior want.”

  Puzzled, Seeking Sword asked, “Why would Scowling Tiger want me in his band?”

  “Good fighter sword, Sword Lord. Reason other many, I not all know. I ally with Tiger be, now maybe, not maybe. I not know what Tiger do when he you learn my band join. I him not oppose—we five hundred strong be, they fifteen thousand strong be. If Tiger Lord ask, I you him give. What I choice have? You choice though have, eh?”

  “I would choose, Lord Elk, to remain with the Elk Raiders.”

  “Ah, but Tiger Lord not predict be, Sword Lord. Full revenge be, eh? You not how he react know.”

  “No, Lord Elk, I don't know how he'll respond. I doubt that he'll try to coerce either of us. After all, you cannot command someone's loyalty with threats of reprisal.”

  Leaping Elk frowned, sure he understood all the words, but wondering if he grasped all the meaning. A pity this young man doesn't have a talent, the older man thought, wanting a clearer means of communication.

  Although he had lived in the Windy Mountains for many years, Leaping Elk still couldn't speak the language fluently. He understood nearly all the words but simply couldn't arrange a grammatically correct sentence. His inability to speak stemmed less from his pronunciation and more from the rigid order of his sentences. His native language put the verbs at the end of the sentence and transposed the order of names. Titles and given names came after surnames. “I not his wrath want test, eh?”

  “I understand, Lord Elk. That's in the hands of the Infinite.”

  “Yes, Infinite with be.” He glanced at the sword across the younger man's lap. “I like blade see, Sword Lord.”

  Lifting the sword from his lap, Seeking Sword slid the sheath most the way off. One never exposed the entire blade without bloodying it, unless one were polishing it or practicing with it.

  Seeking Sword's face lit up. He bowed to the other man. “You'd honor me, Lord Elk, if you'd accept this humble sword as a token of my fealty to the Elk Raiders—in partial payment for all you've given me.”

  Leaping Elk jerked backward, almost falling off his cushion, and held up his hands as if to ward off further attack. His face filled with fright. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the chill cave. “No! You keep, Sword Lord!” Leaping Elk said, trying to compose his face and contain his reaction.

  Prescient visions of terrible disaster had assailed him.

  Looking baffled, Seeking Sword nodded and gingerly slid the blade back into sheath.

  Leaping Elk wiped his forehead with his sleeve, not caring that he soiled the fine silk robe he wore only for formal occasions. “That good sword, Sword Lord. You keep, not anybody give, eh?”

  “Yes, Lord,” Seeking Sword said, looking perplexed.

  Leaping Elk looked closely at the sword. He had often seen the boy with it, and had watched him duel Slithering Snake many times, but never had the Southern bandit really examined the boy's sword.

  Set in the pommel was a single ruby. Not a nick marred along the entire length of blade. The metal looked like a rare, chromium-antimony alloy, difficult to handle for even the best of chemathons. This brass-colored alloy was the blade metal of all the Imperial and Heir Swords. Reluctant to look too closely, Leaping Elk guessed that the blade was microscopic sheets of layered metal. Such construction increased durability and flexibility, and maintained sharpness—the method used on all the Imperial and Heir Swords. If an Heir had wielded it long enough, an Heir Sword would repel anyone else. As this sword had repelled him. The ruby was of similar size to the sapphire adorning the Southern Heir Sword.

  Leaping Elk trembled with excitement. I truly don't know that this is the Northern Heir Sword, he thought. For seven years I wielded the Southern Heir Sword, knew its characteristics intimately, and examined two other Heir Swords, but never the Northern one. Although he could only guess that this was the missing Heir Sword, all his senses told him he guessed correctly.

  I have to tell my brother, he thought. The Emperor Snarling Jaguar must know!

  Looking at Seeking Sword, Leaping Elk saw his agitation and bewilderment. He doesn't even know! the dark bandit thought, wondering why Icy Wind hadn't told him.

  Leaping Elk remembered his suspicion that Icy Wind was also the deposed Emperor Lofty Lion. If that's true, perhaps the father hasn't told the son because Flying Arrow has the Northern Imperial Sword, where it will stay until Emparia Castle crumbles to the ground. Little chance of this young man besieging and taking the castle! Leaping Elk thought.

  Who else knows about the Heir Sword? he wondered. No one but me, the disinherited Heir, and Icy Wind, the former Emperor.

  Why don't I tell Seeking Sword? Leaping Elk wondered. Then he chuckled aloud, realizing the literal meaning of the young man's name. Yes, Icy Wind had known. “Very good sword,” he said, chuckling still. His chuckle ended abruptly. “Sword Lord, I Heir not see. Tiger Lord say he like Bear Brazen look.”

  “The Traitor Brazen Bear? Guarding Bear's brother?” Seeking Sword asked.

  “Him,” Leaping Elk said. “We problem have, because of Heir. You, Sword Lord, like Bear Brazen also look.” Leaping Elk knew it important to keep Seeking Sword's looks concealed, especially if he raided across the border. He could easily imagine what would happen if someone saw Seeking Sword attacking a village in the Eastern Empire. What a furor! Leaping Elk smiled. “We looks use, not now, not for year, but soon. Until we use, you other look need. I not how say know.”

  “Disguises, Lord Elk?”

  “Disguise, yes. On next raid, bandit wig find, maybe dye, color hair change, enough be think, Sword Lord.”

  Someone scratched at the cloth over the entrance.

  * * *

  Seeking Sword was up on one knee, sword half out of scabbard. His sense of danger had heightened earlier when Leaping Elk had recoiled so violently from the sword.

  He's afraid of the sword itself! Why? Seeking Sword had wondered.

  Slithering Snake had once told him that the blade was unusual and valuable. Despite its lack of adornment, having only a single ruby in the pommel, the workmanship was far better than most swords. The sword's far beyond anything that I, a common bandit of dubious lineage, should posses, Seeking Sword had thought. So he had offered it to Leaping Elk.

  Why had the sword frightened Leaping Elk? Seeking Sword wondered again.

  “The moon rises full …” the black bandit began, hand on hilt.

  “… On warm summer's eve,” came the response in a soft female voice, the words also in the language of the south.

  Leaping Elk relaxed.

  The woman pushed aside the curtain. “I thought you and your guest might like some coffee, Lord.”

  Seeking Sword slid his sword back into its sheath and looked at her closely. Forty-five years old, a few gray strands in the brown, Fawning Elk entered with a small wooden tray, closing the curtain behind her. She set down the tray and bowed to each man.

  “Thank you, Lady Love,” Leaping Elk said in the Southern tongue.

  “Thank you, Lady Elk,” Seeking Sword said in the language of the east. “Infinite bless you.”

  “You're most welcome, Lords,” she said, her voice melodious. “I was sorry to hear that you and your father argued, Lord Sword. He's not the most pleasant man I've met.” She poured three cups of steaming coffee.

  Seeking Sword smiled sadly. “I
'm also sorry. My time had come to take my own path.” He breathed the steam, enjoying the smell.

  “Sword Lord us join ask,” Leaping Elk said, slurping his coffee.

  “Oh? Congratulations on becoming a member, Lord Sword. Surely you'll bring honor to our humble band.” She looked at her mate. “You did recruit him, of course.”

  Leaping Elk chuckled, nodding.

  “I'll contribute what I can for the years the Lord Elk has devoted to my training and teaching, Lady Elk.”

  “Of course.” Fawning Elk frowned. “Now that you're a member, we'll have to disguise you.”

  “Will I look better as a blond or a brunette?” he joked, disturbed. Why do I look so much like Flaming Arrow? Seeking Sword wondered. Remembering the initial hostility of Scowling Tiger's retainer Raging River, whom he had met on the hunt ten months ago, Seeking Sword understood the hostility now. Brazen Bear and Scowling Tiger had loved the same woman. Scowling Tiger's betrayal of Brazen Bear had eventually spawned a civil war between the Tiger and Bear Patriarchies, and Guarding Bear had driven Scowling Tiger and his allies from the Empire. No wonder his appearance had so disturbed the two men. “I also want to thank you, of course, for your welcoming me to your hearth and making me part of your family,” he added.

  “Having you part of my family has always been a pleasure for me.” She smiled.

  He smiled also, liking her.

  Years ago, Icy Wind had come to Leaping Elk's caves and had asked for help in caring for the days-old infant Seeking Sword. Nursing a new born of her own, Fawning Elk had given him suckle. “Will you continue your studies, Lord Sword?”

  “I hope to, Lady Elk, yes—if I can find the teachers.”

  She said something in the language of the south to Leaping Elk.

  The black bandit replied at length in the same language.

  “The Lord Elk wants you to know that not all the teachers you've had were members of this band. You know about the Bandit Council? They have itinerant instructors who travel the length of the Windy Mountains, serving the member bands. As a member of the Elk Raiders, you can place a request for an instructor in, for example, government. The council will send one as soon as one is available. What subjects would you like to study?”