Deathsworn Arc: 01 - The Last Dragon Slayer

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Deathsworn Arc: 01 - The Last Dragon Slayer Page 16

by Martyn Stanley


  Once he’d eaten Votrex pushed his empty plate and bowl aside and gulped his mead down, then caught Mildred eyeing him, “Thank you for the food... Tis a good stew...”

  “Hmmph, it’s not really... Its best I can do with the scraps of meat and poor vegetables we have... Hmmm, you’re a dwarf...”

  Votrex chuckled at this, “Yes I am! That is a very astute observation!”

  Her eyes settled on Vashni, who had lowered her hood to eat, “And an elf?”

  Vashni smiled sarcastically, “Yes indeed...”

  She then looked at Brael, “And what manner of creature is the greyskin?”

  “I am a citizen of Durth Orza, a gravian... Sometimes referred to as a dark elf...”

  “Hmmph! You spend most of your life wondering if the magical races are true or legend, then the whole complement turns up at once!”

  Saul smirked, “Well, considering we are here to slay your dragon, a member of a race which everyone thought was long extinct. It has a certain irony doesn’t it? Anyway, I can assure you we do not have the full complement, there are many dangerous creatures living deep under the ground, and the empire is under constant threat of being invaded by the orcs and goblins of Garzbad... “

  “Hmmph... Well, I just hope you succeed... And I warn you, if you DO succeed against the odds, do not attempt to ride triumphantly into Brunwelt, for the servants of the flame will probably attack you on sight once they realise you have slain their god.... If you survive the encounter, I suggest you flee as fast as your horses will carry you. Hmmm, though I am sorry to say it - I am doubtful you can succeed...”

  The atmosphere grew more sombre from this point, each lost in their own thoughts, supping their mead and avoiding conversation... The fire slowly died down, eventually Tam strode in through the door, “Your horses are shod, I would normally ask for four silver pieces for the work, but if as you’re riding into battle against ‘Thrax’ I shall not charge you.”

  Saul rose and pulled out his coin purse, “Tam, if your advice has saved us the trouble of dealing with the servants of the flame, then I think it’s our duty to pay you... Besides, if we don’t make it back - I shall not be able to repay my debt until we meet in again in Kirkfell, the banqueting hall of the dead.”

  Brael shuddered at this for some reason, unnoticed to the others. Saul reached in and pulled out two gold pieces and handed them to Tam Briarly, “Here, take this with my thanks.”

  Tam glanced about the group, and sighed, “It is dusk, it’s time for you to leave... Good luck, and don’t forget to avoid Brunwelt afterwards, the madness is bad in Duramer, but in Brunwelt it is on another scale altogether.”

  Saul pushed his chair back under the table as the others rose, “Hmmm, then it’s time we left.”

  Tam pressed a hand on Callen’s shoulder, “Son, avoid the road, take them north into the foothills, then west, if you see any sign of the servants of the flame try to remain unseen.”

  He then looked up sternly at the band of warriors, “If you run into the servants of the flame, you may have to kill them, they are dangerous fanatics... I wish it weren’t so, but they are not only your enemy, they are also the very people you are trying to save. If eliminating Thrax ends this cult and makes them see reason then... Let’s just say, it would just be best if you could avoid any encounters.”

  Vashni who had been stepping to the door pushed it open, “We shall try to avoid them, and I will try to make sure no harm comes to Callen.”

  Mildred sank down into one of the empty chairs now, clearly troubled. Tam followed them to the door and watched them ride off, away from the village and to the north. The sky cleavers were close now, towering up into the clouds, their black rocky outcrops looming over them, full of foreboding. Broken shards and boulders littered the moor, the horses had to tread carefully, picking their way through the gloom towards the base of the mountains. Silus riding in the middle of the group looked up at the sheer rock face and shook his head, “I’ve never been this close to the sky cleavers... I doubt any man could climb such an unforgiving cliff face...”

  Vashni chuckled softly, “I think you are right Silus Mendelson, though in truth I could climb it quite easily - boredom would be the barrier to me being able to reach the summit.”

  Callen, riding on his pony turned back to them, “Shhh! There could be servants of the flame around! We don’t want to be detected!”

  So they rode on in silence, the moon was full and high in the sky, lighting the moor surprisingly well. The village wasn’t stirring visibly, the large collection of ramshackle buildings silent and dark. As they hugged the bottom of the sky cleavers making their way to Thrax’s lair, a few lights could be seen to the south west, clearly though Duramer slept, Brunwelt was still harbouring some activity. Saul urged his horse to trot up alongside Callen, “What is going on in Brunwelt do you think? I see lights, but tis late?”

  “Hmmph, I think they throw a sort of ‘party’ for the one who is being sacrificed, I guess that’s it... Hmmph, at least it seems we’re on the right day - we should rest though, we’ll need to get to the cave early if we want to save her from being... Urgh!”

  Harald trotted up now, “Callen, you and your father keep referring to the sacrifice as ‘she’ is Thrax so discriminating?”

  “I dunno... Maybe, Ramon always selects the fire queen, and she is always a young maiden of... Hmmm, probably around twenty? He never picks children, nor old hags... “

  “Fire queen?”

  “Yeah, that’s what they call the victim; she gets to be a sort of princess for a day, hmmph! Not that it should make it any more desirable...”

  Saul screwed his face up, “One a week? Plus cattle and other livestock? Is this sustainable?”

  “Lot of people live in Brunwelt, more than Duramer... Then there’s the old dwarven, fortified town of Strak over to the west and loads of farms and smallholdings around... He’s been at this for months now... I guess eventually he’ll have to look further afield... Or be less particular about his diet...”

  Korhan grimaced, the talk of eating young maidens triggered his ‘resonating whisper’ somehow and turned his stomach, “Urgh, how can an intelligent creature eat another?”

  This caused Vashni to smirk, “Until recently Ri§ine, you were guilty of this yourself! Hmmph! You can wipe that expression off your face, intelligence is proportional, no a horse cannot understand Torean, but neither can you understand horse! Maybe Thrax views humans in the same way that humans view cows or pigs? As uncomfortable as you may be with the idea, to me it seems likely. In Brunwelt, with the formation of the servants of the flame and the weekly tradition of choosing a ‘fire queen’ and sacrificing her to him... He has effectively created himself a human farm!”

  Korhan grimaced, “Please Mir§a Vashni, can we not speak of such things?!”

  “As you wish Ri§ine...”

  They rode on in silence for some time, Korhan still practicing his sword form in his head, the others lost in their thoughts. Eventually Callen turned his pony north towards a narrow gully between two large round boulders, barely wide enough for a horse and rider. The others followed him to a large, almost circular flat area between the sheer rocks, the floor covered in loose shale.

  His pony slowed and he pulled it to one side, then turned to the others, “We stop here... I shall take you to the cave tomorrow on foot.”

  The warriors dismounted, Korhan tended to Vashni’s horse before his own as ever, then placed her sleep mat in a sheltered position before finding a spot for his own. As Votrex laid out his sleep mat he glanced up at the others, “We should not light a fire tonight, there is little fuel here anyway, and the smoke and flames may draw attention to our presence.”

  This drew murmurs of agreement, soon everyone had a spot. It would be a cold, uncomfortable night without the warmth of a fire. Before he could settle for the night, Korhan felt Vashni’s slender hand on his shoulder, “Ri§ine, I want you to practice the sword form before we sleep ton
ight, try to control your thoughts while you do it... “

  “Yes, Mir§a Vashni.”

  She then strode over to the others, “I will make this offer only once, if anyone would like me to attempt to whisper them some resistance to mental attacks - I shall, the effects will wear off a little by tomorrow, but I do not wish to expend energy before confronting the beast on whispers. Who would like to accept my offer?”

  The band looked at one another, Saul answered first, “Thank you for the offer lady Vashni, but I think my training in mental defence should suffice and I would not want you to expend unnecessary energy on me.”

  “That is true wizard, you should fare better than most... Hmmm, the same is true of you dwarf - your kind are naturally resilient to mental attacks... Brael, you certainly do not need my assistance... So Silus?”

  “Hmmph! I... Grrr... I... Sigh... You’re probably right... I’m sorry for my former hostilities lady Vashni, let us make amends - I shall accept your gift.”

  “As will I... If you are offering it to me.”

  “Harald? Of course my offer extends to you, I shall do the dragon slayer first... Now sit still, and listen... Embrace my words.”

  She stepped over, leaned close to Silus and began quietly whispering for some time, he gasped as he felt the effects, tightening up his mind and reining in stray thoughts, while building a mental wall about his core mind. Then she strode over to Harald and repeated it, finally she turned to Korhan, “Come Ri§ine, it is your turn...”

  “Hah! You didn’t ask me whether I wished to accept this!”

  “No, I didn’t... You are my Ri§ine, as long as this is true you are under my care and I shall make all decisions about your welfare. You are making progress, but you are not ready to rely on your own mental skills. I do not wish to see you killed tomorrow, so sit still and listen!”

  Korhan subdued sat down and allowed her to whisper to him. The sensation was a concentrated feeling of what how he felt his mind was changing through Vashni’s training. Everything felt more measured and controlled, tighter, sharper. As she’d finished Vashni urged him up with her finger, “Now Ri§ine, I have another exercise for you... Come where there is lots of space. I am not going to whisper your eyes closed... Unless you need me to? If you open them during the exercise I will take that as admission that you require them whispered closed. Now I want you to perform the first sword form, with your eyes shut. Feel where your feet are placed, your hand positions, the angle of your blade... Begin!”

  Under the moonlit sky Korhan assumed the ready position and after checking that he had a clear, flat area around him - closed his eyes and began. His moves were less confident with his eyes closed, but the many rehearsals in his head helped him greatly. Vashni stood at the side eyeing him critically, when he’d finished both mirror images of the form Vashni approached.

  “Open your eyes Ri§ine... Look at where you have finished, you are several feet from where you started! Your stances were sloppy and inaccurate, your hand positions were wobbly and wayward and your strikes, parries and thrusts lacked any finesse or control... Now try again! Focus! Concentrate! Perform it with conviction! Hmmm... Wait here I shall place that single darker coloured stone at your feet so you can see for yourself how poorly you have performed.”

  She placed the large, black, stone, that looked like a lump of obsidian at his heels, “Now try again!”

  Slowly he closed his eyes and began again. This time he took more time to check his positions, so far as he could from how they felt and when he executed a move, he committed himself to it more, imagining he was parrying a genuine attack or thrusting at a real foe. Again Vashni watched him, her face stern and suggesting disappointment. When he’d finished she sighed crossly, “Open your eyes Ri§ine! Look at your feet! You are still a good two feet from your mark! You performed better that time, but you had no rhythm or flow, you looked sluggish and clumsy, stiff and unyielding... Now try again, but try to perform it with a rhythm, almost like a dance, you should start to feel where subtle pauses improve the performance, and where quick successions of moves work best. Be nimble! And Agile! Now, on your mark and try again!”

  Korhans arms were aching and his legs were tired, but he lined himself up on the mark, closed his eyes and began, trying to feel for the rhythm and sink correctly into the stances. It felt better, and it looked better flowing strikes raining upon his imaginary foe and the parries and strikes flowing seamlessly into one another. When he’d finished he was sweating, but pleased with his performance.

  “Hmmph! Better... You are only a foot from your mark this time, you performed better, but watch your breathing! Breath in between moves, as you wind up - then out as you strike or parry. Now try again!”

  Moaning softly he checked himself back onto the mark and began the form anew, his sword swinging with new purpose, flowing move to move and striking accurately, he tried to make sure his breathing was timed well with the moves and sometimes it felt natural and right - but concentrating on breathing affected his flow, and accuracy. He found the exercise mentally tiring as well as physically exhausting. As he finished the final move Vashni let out another exasperated sigh, “You are getting better Ri§ine, but you still have a long way to go... You should rest now - before you sleep I will whisper away your aches and pains, I do not want you see you killed because I overworked you the night before a battle and neglected to repair you.”

  Korhan lowered the sword and started walking towards the sleep mats, “Thank you Mir§a Vashni...”

  “Think nothing of it Ri§ine, despite your constant failure to impress I am enjoying training you. Your progress is slow, but because you were so pathetic in these disciplines to start with, I can see improvement already.”

  “Hah! Mir§a Vashni, never would I have believed it possible for such an innocent looking, slight framed female to crush my ego so...”

  “You had never met an elf before, or agreed to be her Ri§ine. You have no right to an ego yet Korhan, you are at the small foothills of a mountain which towers into the clouds. I believe given time, and provided my patience with you doesn’t wear too thin - I can lead you to the summit, and you can be proud of your abilities... For now lie down.”

  He lay and she began whispering to him, slowly, rhythmically, her silken flowing voice resonated through his body and he felt the lactic acid built up in his muscles recede. He started to feel relaxed and by the time she had finished and sat up he was fast asleep. She smiled at him and stroked his forehead caringly, as a mother might stroke her sleeping child. As she did she noticed the rough stubble growing about his face. He hadn’t shaved since the morning they’d left Dirsh and he now had the beginnings of a short beard. Vashni decided she preferred him clean shaven so she whispered to him again and the facial hair simply loosened and fell off, leaving his face smooth. She giggled softly at him, then rose and retired to her sleep mat.

  The whole band was preparing to sleep, all avoiding the awkward question of who would take watch at a time when they would need to be operating at full efficiency to survive the next day. A hint of tiredness could be the difference between life and death. As it happened Callen picked up on this atmosphere, “Ere’ you lot try and get some rest - I’ll keep an eye out for the servants of the flame.”

  Saul smiled at him as he settled down, “Thank you Callen, we won’t forget your kindness...”

  The others muttered their agreement and soon the only sound around the camp was soft snoring and the occasional rustle of someone turning over or pulling their blanket up higher.

  Callen sat quietly on a boulder watching over the band; after a couple of hours had passed he felt a rush of wind and looked up to see a dark shadow pass overheard. He tracked it with his eyes back to Duramer, though it was distant he heard an unearthly screech and saw a bright jet of flame blast Duramer, clearly Thrax had taken a disliking to something or someone. He shook his head and quivered, preparing to hide should the great beast return. When he did return he swept overhead s
eemingly not noticing the warriors camp.

  Vashni woke and glanced at Callen he walked up to her, as white as a sheet, “It was Thrax... He’s just been to Duramer and burned something... “

  “Shhh, I don’t think the others have woken... Are you okay?”

  He nodded.

  “Would you like me to keep watch for a while?”

  His voice was shaky and fearful, “No... I’ll be okay... I just want you all well rested so tomorrow you can find him and kill him.”

  “If you are sure... And do not worry; we shall try our best Callen.”

  With that she rolled over and drifted off back to sleep.

  Korhan slept heavily, when he awoke he sat up to see Votrex checking the remainder of his plate mail, he’d cleaned and fitted his pauldrons, arm plate and gauntlets. He wore a thick mail skirt to protect his legs and thick dwarvish greaves to protect his shins, he was sitting adjusting the leather inner part of his winged helmet for comfort. Saul had a collection of bottles and vials, a mortar and pestle and a book out - he was sitting, working diligently, decanting one flask into another. Vashni appeared behind him, “What are you doing wizard?”

  “Hmmm, I’m brewing some slipperin oil, a powerful sharpening concoction. It will not last long, but it will mean at least a few strikes from our weapons should do some damage to Thrax, I am memorising some spells too, the winds of magic flow strongly around here, possibly because of Thrax’s close proximity... I have already placed a ward of fire resistance on Votrex, Silus, Brael and Harald... Would you like me to do so for you and Korhan?”

  “Hmmm, why not? It will be interesting to see your skill finally; I was beginning to think your title of wizard was a ceremonial one, granted to you for your excellent beard growing and the fact that long robes become you. Now we’re ready to face Thrax, I find it reassuring that your magical abilities extend beyond juggling apples and pulling flowers from your sleeve. ”

 

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