The Sword of Darrow

by Hal Malchow

  These feelings were too new and too strong. But he was nothing if not brave and he clung to this power and would not let it go. Separated from all sensory contact, he lingered in this condition for a long time. Empowered by these feelings, he forgave all of them, that great and enormous multitude that had mocked him and ridiculed him throughout his life. He forgave them all. Every single one.

  Scodo looked up again. “I have forgiven them.”

  Babette could not believe these words, but she knew that they were the right ones. More importantly, she could feel a warmth—a powerful, radiant warmth—flowing outward from Scodo’s being. She sensed an enormous power that was almost frightening in its force. And she knew, without a single conscious thought, that she was witness to a miracle so rare and special that centuries might pass before it ever happened again.

  Now she understood that inside of Scodo dwelt a powerful force of goodness and magic far more profound than her own. She suspected that Scodo’s untapped powers were perhaps as great or greater than those of Asterux himself. This time, without doubts or skepticism, she spoke in a stern, commanding voice.

  “Think of those who have done you the most terrible wrongs. Confront them. Understand them. Forgive them. And your power will grow.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Scodo’s mind descended once more deep into his past. Soon, he faced the terrible mob that had chased him from the goblin village, that had hunted him with torches and dogs. This was the mob that murdered his parents and destroyed the house he had built with his own hands. For many years, he had been unable to face this memory and now he trembled before it.

  Suddenly, he became deeply fearful and longed to turn back. But against those fears, his new power gave him strength. For the first time, he looked directly into the faces of the mob and a deeply felt bitterness rose up inside him. Understanding? Compassion? Love? These feelings were far from his reach, but he would not turn back. He peered into their eyes, gleaming with hatred and cruelty of the most vicious kind. He looked into their hearts and wondered what they must contain.

  What Scodo saw made him tremble and shake.

  Babette looked at her friend and she became alarmed. His hands made fists so tight that Babette feared he might break his own fingers. His body shook so violently that she touched him on the shoulder to offer him calm. But nothing in this world could intrude upon the journey that Scodo had begun.

  Hours passed, as the wagon traveled slowly ahead. Babette feared for her friend and decided that somehow she must awaken Scodo from his ordeal. She dreaded that she had unleashed some terrible force so strong that it might destroy him. She feared that he might never awaken. But slowly, his trembling subsided. After a while, his body, remarkably, returned to complete calm.

  In her seat next to Scodo, Babette could feel a presence so strong and powerful that it surely stilled trees and calmed creatures miles away. The great power that flowed from Scodo was as real and tangible as the earth beneath them and the raindrops from the sky. She marveled at the strength her friend surely possessed and wondered if he might become the greatest wizard ever known and sow the magic of goodness, justice, and right all across the world.

  For a very long time, Scodo remained in his position, his head lowered, his hands holding the seat, with an appearance of total calm. Then, slowly, Scodo lifted his head, opened his eyes, and spoke these remarkable words.

  “I have forgiven them.”

  Babette was awestruck, but she feared the next step. Already, Scodo had done what had taken her years. Could any being endure something beyond what Scodo had experienced that day? But she also knew that the magic was indeed within Scodo’s reach. And if Scodo could find the magic, he could not only perform good and wondrous deeds; he might well transform an evil world.

  For a few moments, she wavered, unable to decide. Scodo looked at her, not with impatience but with understanding and hope. Without a single word, his expression told her that he placed himself completely in her hands—trusting her, without a single doubt, to do what was right. So Babette turned to Scodo, her decision made. With fire in her eyes and a powerful force flowing through her own body, she shouted words that echoed off the cliffs and ricocheted high into the evening sky.

  “Search for the one person who has handed you the greatest evil. Search for the one person who has done you the most grievous wrong. Search for the one to whom you owe the greatest and most terrible revenge. Find him! Understand him! Love him! Forgive him!”

  Scodo lowered his head and thought. There were many in his life who had done him wrong. But who was worse than the others? He did not know. Harder and harder he thought, reviewing his life and all of the terrible characters it contained. But there was nothing.

  Babette, sensing Scodo’s struggle, offered firm instructions: “Don’t reach for him. He will come to you. Let him come. Let him come.”

  Returning to his struggle, Scodo first searched for his power. But this time, his mind was jolted as if by some outside force. In his mind, he was suddenly spinning through space, falling and turning, faster and faster, until without the slightest warning, he was still. And when the falling stopped, his entire span of life raced before him. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of events flashed by in a few seconds. But he saw each episode with great clarity, in great detail, and with an understanding he had never before known.

  When his life had passed, the events began to spin one into another. He saw faces of people and goblins and Minotaurs that did not belong together. They appeared in settings that were entirely wrong. He became deeply confused, and now, instead of goodness and courage, he was overcome by anxiety and fear. For a few short minutes, this great whirlwind of distorted and false memories raged through his mind. Again, he began to shake—this time not with the power of good but with the fear of evil. Inside his mind, the torments of his life grew suddenly large and his heart was racked with terrible pain. All of the awful ghosts of his awful past swirled and raged in a panorama so frightful that he feared he might never depart with his sanity intact.

  Then it stopped.

  When it stopped, he saw the forest where his parents lived and where his childhood was spent. Standing in the forest, looking directly into his eyes, stood Zindown.

  Scodo was perplexed. He had not the slightest understanding of why Zindown might appear. But the second he saw the image, he knew that it was Zindown who had somehow, some way, dealt him his most grievous and terrible wrong. Scodo wondered if perhaps Zindown planned to hurt him in the future, for while Zindown was evil and had opposed him and Babette in the desert, Scodo knew of no other way that Zindown had committed acts against him. But as he considered Zindown, a new feeling arose inside him.

  It was the feeling of hate.

  Desperately, Scodo fought back with all his new power. He returned to the memories of his parents. He looked into the face of his loving mother, and in her expression he found strength. He thought of Hugga Hugga and Babette and the friendship they had given him and his strength continued to grow. He looked into the souls of those who taunted him and those who were horrified by his very presence and he understood them, loved them, and forgave them once again. And finally, he forgave even the goblin mob and they, too, felt his love. As he retraced each step, slowly, and with all the power inside him, his goodness and his power began to grow. A great, wondrous glow filled his body and surged through his fingertips and toes. With this new power, he felt as if he had soared into the air, breaking even the grip of gravity that binds us to the earth. Now he was stronger and his power raged. He turned toward the image of Zindown again, armed with the most powerful forces the human spirit can create. He considered Zindown for his wrongs and thought of the evil deeds he carried with him every day. He wondered at the terrible burden.

  As he searched for compassion, his body trembled mightily with all of the great power he had summoned. But that power was not enough. He could not understand. He could not forgive. He could not love. His spirit staggered backward,
reeling in defeat.

  But Scodo had stood at the edge. He had reached for the power and it lay only a little beyond his grasp. One person stood between him and the magic. And Scodo would not be denied. Once again, he put Zindown away and went back to his power. He retraced his memories. He nurtured his goodness. Once more, he felt love for his enemies and forgiveness for their actions, this time more deeply and profoundly than before.

  When he had brought his power to its greatest level yet, stronger than he could have imagined, he brought this power once again back to Zindown. He faced the image of the wizard anew. And a great struggle raged inside of him.

  Babette was once again alarmed. Scodo’s body shook so violently that the wagon began to wobble. The wobbling grew and the wagon rocked so hard that Zauberyungi brayed in fear. This time, Scodo did not calm. He shook and trembled as he gripped the wagon with his mighty hands.

  Babette feared that she had pushed him too far. On and on, the shaking continued and Babette became afraid that Scodo might never return from the horrific struggle that raged within.

  Then, in an instant, he was still. For a long time, he did not move.

  Now Babette was hopeful. Perhaps he had conquered his demon. Perhaps this great being that sat beside her would perform wondrous magic that very night. Waiting with eagerness, anticipation, respect, and love, she stared at Scodo.

  Scodo lifted his head, and as tears dropped from the motionless eyes on his dark face, he turned to Babette.

  “I have failed.”

  Babette comforted Scodo, who was dazed by all he had been through. She told him he had great power. She told him he would do great deeds that could change the world. She urged him to find patience because he had been blessed with a beautiful gift, greater even than that of Asterux himself. Her words soothed his battered spirit. But for a long time he could not move or speak.

  As she whispered encouragements into his ear, she wondered what terrible demon lay inside of him that could resist the awesome power of goodness that Scodo held within.

  • 36 •

  Kelsner’s Plain

  The road was dry and the morning dew had long since burned away. As Darrow looked to the rear, the line of soldiers stretched into the horizon. Their footsteps raised a dust cloud that obscured the end of the line. Darrow no longer greeted each new recruit. They were too many. He wondered how many walked in the line. It must be at least six hundred.

  Ahead, Darrow could see a town, bigger than Kelofel, with stone houses, some three stories tall. The town was Pfesthammer and before Darrow had approached the city limits, his soldiers were greeted by well-wishers who lined the road to cheer his success. When he entered the town, the streets were as packed as before. This time, the town had already gathered food and weapons, which they presented with great ceremony in the town square.

  When he finished his speech, he inspected the weapons. There were pitchforks, more hammers, and many knives. But when he had sifted through the pile, he turned to Timwee with an expression of despair. No words were needed to convey the terrible news.

  In this vast pile of weapons, there were only eighteen swords.

  As soon as he was able, Darrow asked to meet with the blacksmiths. “Our hope lies in your hands,” he began. “We need swords, as many as you can make and as fast as you can make them.”

  “But we know nothing of swords,” one of the smiths responded.

  “It is time you learned,” Darrow snapped heatedly. “We are all responsible for allowing the goblins to rule unchecked.”

  By early afternoon, the men were marching again. Darrow pushed his men hard, desperate to cover ground. They were almost a day’s march from Kelsner’s Plain, where Darrow expected to spend the night. But the hardships of the march were hardly noticed at all.

  The cheers of their countrymen rang in their ears. The hopes of their kingdom soared in their hearts. Alive, eager, and certain of victory, Darrow’s ragtag band practically floated across the plain.

  The sky was dark as Darrow’s company approached Kelsner’s Plain, a city that was home to ten thousand people, almost fifty miles from the forest. As they rounded a turn in the road and the city came into view, a man on horseback galloped to meet Darrow. This time, there was no welcome. This man brought a warning.

  The goblin army was marching. They would arrive at Kelsner’s Plain tomorrow night.

  The messenger was unsure of their number. There were reports from many people. Some said a few hundred, others counted as many as a thousand. But whatever their number, they would soon stand before them on the field of battle.

  At the edge of the city, Darrow was met by the committee of town leaders.

  “You have one day to prepare. Tell us how we can help.”

  “Bring me every carpenter in the city,” Darrow replied. “Tell them to prepare to work tonight and all day tomorrow.”

  One of the men scurried away to meet Darrow’s request.

  As they walked the streets, Darrow marveled at the shops. He had never seen a city of any kind. One shop contained bowls and cups and pitchers, all made of glass.

  “People drink from these containers?” Darrow asked.

  The mayor struggled to suppress a smile.

  “They do. In fact, Kelsner’s Plain has more glass blowers than even Blumenbruch. These drinking cups are in every house.”

  They arrived at the mayor’s home. A small crowd stood outside and cheered Darrow’s approach. But there would be no speeches tonight. For weeks, Darrow had considered this battle. His speeches would slay no goblins.

  Inside, city leaders answered Darrow’s questions about the whereabouts of the goblins, the size of their force, and the landscape beyond the city. When his questions were answered, he told the leaders what he needed. “We will need volunteers to work behind our lines.” Heads nodded. “We will need contributions from every household in the city.” Heads nodded. Darrow issued his instructions in great detail.

  In the next room, Timwee, Hugga Hugga, Kaylin, and Mempo waited. Darrow entered and gave orders. All soldiers would assemble west of town at sunrise. They had one day to prepare and they would need every minute. And when all was clear, Darrow lifted his sword to repeat the pledge of their band. Around the table, every sword rose to meet Darrow’s. But before he could speak, a messenger burst into the room.

  A wagon had arrived from Kelofel. It contained twenty swords.

  • 37 •

  The Temptation of Evil

  Not a single star broke the blackness of the night, only a quarter moon. It hung just above the horizon and its reflection cast a long white line across the water.

  Thirty-five hours earlier, Scodo and Babette had begun their journey. Now, long after midnight, they stood at the pirate’s cove. To reach Darrow in time, they would have to make the return trip in barely more than a day.

  The ground was soft and wet and covered with high grass. They scanned the darkness to locate a ship. They could just make out a dock in the distance. As they approached it, they saw the shape of a ship against the sky.

  The deck was littered with snoring, unwashed, unshaven men. Some lay in hammocks. Others sprawled about the deck in all manner of bodily contortions. Scodo looked at Babette. Babette shrugged. What were their choices?

  They stepped quietly onto the boat and looked about. Where was Telsinore? Suddenly, a voice boomed in the darkness.

  “Who dares trespass on the Trap Door?”

  Startled, Babette turned to see the dark shadow of a large man lifting himself from the deck. Knives and clubs hung from his belt. He pulled a sword.

  “I’ve run many a man through for less than this,” he said with a hint of pride. “Though you are obviously no man.”

  The sleeping bodies began to stir.

  “We came to see Telsinore,” Babette shot back. “We have business to discuss.”

  “Aye, and what business does a lady have? Perhaps you’re an old friend of the Cap’n, come here to reacquaint?”

>   At the sound of a woman’s voice, several men lifted their heads and began to blink.

  “Only to do business,” Scodo repeated. “We’ve brought treasure. A lot of it.”

  At that, the pirate grabbed a rope and sounded a bell. Twelve men stood about the deck, staring at the strange pair.

  “You’d best stand back with your hands on your head.”

  One pirate charged Scodo, but Scodo grabbed him by the shirt and threw him from the boat. The pirates drew their swords. Scodo drew his as well and took a step forward. The pirates stepped back.

  Then a voice rang out behind him.

  “I wouldn’t try that if I were you. Not if you want this pretty lady to keep her head.”

  Scodo turned. A pirate was holding Babette by the hair with a knife at her throat.

  “Put her down,” shouted Scodo.

  “No, you drop your sword. One wrong move and the missus will be looking for her head.”

  The pirates snickered meanly. Scodo dropped his sword. In a moment, his hands, arms, legs, and feet were tied with ropes. Then his neck was chained to the mast. Babette was tied, gagged, and carried below.

  “Remove his hood,” cried the pirate who had been thrown overboard. By now, torches lit the deck. A pirate grabbed the point of Scodo’s mask and pulled.

  The reflections of the torchlight danced on the dark shell of Scodo’s face. His tiny round insect eyes glowed still and red. A gasp spread across the boat.

  “We’ve caught ourselves a monster,” said the large pirate, speaking softly and with respect. In the light, Scodo could see this pirate for the first time.