Spiderhunter (Ages of Argainen Book 1)

by Robe

  “Auric,” Joan called after him. “What are you doing?”

  Auric put his hands behind his head in frustration as he gazed around the street. Finally, he looked back at them. “The woman who was in Hazzul’s room with us, she’s been spying on us for Argain.”

  “What?” Joan asked. “Wasn’t she the one who taught Reon to fight with a sword?”

  “Yes,” Auric said, his memory of where he had seen her refreshed. “She was.”

  -

  Before doing anything else, Auric brought the betrayal of the Martin woman to Ysseri’s attention. She promptly summoned each of the unwounded women working and studying under her to clear their names. None of them were the woman who’d been in Hazzul’s bedroom, so he and Ysseri concluded that the person Auric described had indeed snuck into the Long House to smuggle information away.

  “He has influenced those naïve enough to go against their own people and assist him in his mission,” Ysseri said. “A more dangerous enemy of the New World has never existed.”

  “We will stop him, even without the help of Hazzul,” Auric said adamantly.

  “I agree with you,” Ysseri replied, “but you shall need every source of assistance you can gather. Therefore, I have arranged for weapons to be made for you and your allies.”

  “Weapons?” Auric asked. “We have weapons.”

  “You do not have weapons as those you will have,” Ysseri spoke and rang a bell that sat on a table beside her. A young woman appeared. “Fetch Emule and Marima. I require their services,” Ysseri said. The maiden nodded and was off to perform her task. Ysseri then turned back to Auric. “Collect your friends. Their presences will be necessary.”

  -

  Auric made his way back to the common room and found his companions waiting for him.

  “What did she say?” Dalk asked.

  “The woman was not employed by Ysseri. She should never have been in the Long House at all,” Auric said. Reon looked quite pale as he sat at a table alone, staring blankly at the grooves in the wooden surface. “Ysseri has something in store for us. We are to join her in the main area.”

  “What for?” Joan asked, standing from her seat beside Kandon.

  “She is going to have weapons made for us,” Auric said, “and by the sound of it, they won’t be ordinary weapons.”

  The heroes returned to Ysseri to find Emule and Marima beside her. Both of the former prisoners of Argain looked much healthier than the last time the group had seen them, but the markings of what they had endured just days ago were still evident. Their expressions showed how eager they were to assist in the fight with the Evil God.

  Upon noticing the curious faces of the companions, Emule spoke, “Greetings again. Ysseri has gathered us here to help boost your fighting abilities against our common foe. She has suggested that we use our powers again, to mimic what Argain forced us to do.” The increasing interest of his audience prompted him to continue in his chipper, matter-of-fact tone. “Certainly you have observed the increase in potency from the one who calls himself Balanch. Many citizens of Oluld have, and it is all due to the new sword he wields. It is a sword we were forced to create, Marima and I. It conducts the power of the one holding it, channeling his or her energy through the blade, and in return, it empowers the abilities of the user. The weapon itself is very powerful as well, in addition to the other benefits it grants. Its blows cannot be met lightly with a normal weapon.”

  “That explains why Balanch has been more trouble than before,” Dalk said. “How is it you can make these weapons?”

  “A question I’m sure you’re all curious to hear the answer to,” Emule said, clearly excited by the topic of discussion. “I am able to imbue energy into ordinary objects, giving them supernatural qualities. When Ysseri found me, I was creating forks that could not break and books that could not be opened. Marima and I never thought we could perform in conjunction until Argain forced us to. Although the experience was terrible, we did not come out of it empty-handed. With the knowledge we gained, we’re confident we can work with the Touched to create weapons that will not only improve your strength, but also your control of your powers. ”

  “I guess that counts me out,” Kandon said. “I am not Touched.”

  “Afraid so,” Emule said. “Although we can upgrade that primitive crossbow of yours.” Kandon looked offended at the comment toward his weapon, but Emule was moving on, bowing his head toward Marima.

  “Thank you, Emule,” Marima spoke. She was quite young to be called a woman, and her face flushed in nervousness as everyone’s attention moved to her. “It is true. I had barely started exploring my newfound power before being taken by our enemy. I have been Touched with the ability to help other Touched focus their power. It is difficult to explain. In order to create a weapon of which Emule speaks, it is necessary to have present Emule, the individual for which the weapon is being crafted, and myself.”

  “Perhaps it would be easier to show than explain,” Emule suggested. “Who wants to go first?”

  “I will,” Dalk said. “I can use my personal sword, correct?”

  “Absolutely,” Emule replied. “Or you can pick a different one. Whatever weapon you prefer to carry with you will do, and our very own forge here at Oluld can supply you with any weapon of your choosing.”

  “Very well,” Dalk said, and he pulled his longsword from its sheath on his hip. It was quite a fine weapon, with a long, pearly-white blade featuring sleek edges on either side. “Hold on. You mentioned that items you created were indestructible. Will I still be able to sharpen my sword?”

  “Thoughtful of you to bring that up,” Emule said. “Indeed, you will be able to. I can choose which energies to imbue into the weapon, and I’ll only embed your algidimancy, your control over cold, so that the blade synchronizes perfectly with you.” Dalk simply looked at him before handing Emule the blade. Emule looked at both sides of the weapon and ran his fingers down the flat of the edge.

  “Follow me,” he said, and he and Marima guided Dalk into a room off the main area for privacy.

  “How long will they be?” Auric asked Ysseri.

  “It has been known to vary,” she replied. “Often times, Emule will finish quickly, but when he is taking his time to perfect the process, the wait can be quite lengthy. In the meantime, do any of you need a weapon to make your own?”

  “I do,” Joan said. “I’ve never swung a sword in my life.”

  “Neither have I,” Thraun spoke.

  “I, too, would like a new blade,” Auric said.

  “Then I will take you to the forge. The blacksmith is a close friend of mine. He will have what you are looking for,” Ysseri said, and she led the way out of the Long House.

  -

  The blacksmith was not a particularly large Martin, but he was muscular beyond belief. Veiny, rock-like bulges ran the lengths of his arms, and his chest busted outward from his torso like the front of a ship. Ysseri greeted him, and he responded with a warm welcome, opening his shop so Auric, Joan, and Thraun could browse his wares.

  Auric’s mouth fell open as he entered the blacksmith’s showroom; all four walls were lined with rows and rows of weapons, all gleaming magnificently against the sunlight shining in through the windows. Each piece had been crafted to masterful perfection without the slightest hint of flaw. The selection was not limited to swords, either, as other weapons adorned the walls, including battle axes, spears, maces, and every weapon Auric could think of.

  Almost immediately, he found a one-handed sword he liked; it was sturdy with good balance, not massive like Dalk’s, but respectable in length, and the hilt seemed to be made of pure silver. A black leather strip was wrapped tightly around the grip so as to make it comfortable to weild. The moment Auric lifted it from its position on the rack, he knew he would have a hard time putting it down. He tossed it from one hand to the other, familiarizing himself with its weight.

  “Is the hilt stable?” he asked the blacksmith, who
was watching from the doorway.

  The blacksmith took the sword from Auric and examined it. “I remember forging this one,” he said. “I took special care to make the hilt practical in combat. While not demonstrating exceptional durability, it will more than make up for this weakness by the style you will bring to the fight.” The blacksmith grinned and handed the weapon back to Auric. “It would serve you well.”

  Auric nodded. “I have made my choice then.”

  “Very good,” the blacksmith said, but when he relayed the price of the weapon to Auric, the hero nearly dropped his find. Ysseri offered to pay for the blade, insisting that it would be wrong to offer them gifts and then make them pay.

  “In this regard,” she stated, “long life brings great prosperity.” She opened her coin purse and exchanged the agreed-upon amount to the blacksmith, and the blacksmith took a properly-sized scabbard from a shelf and handed it to Auric.

  “You have my gratitude,” Auric said, and Ysseri smiled.

  Thraun and Joan were having a much more difficult time selecting their weapons, and after a long while of browsing, Thraun turned to the blacksmith. “All of these pieces are beautiful and fearsome, but I have no experience swinging any such weapons. Do you have others I could shop from?”

  The blacksmith thought for a moment before speaking, “I may have just the thing for you, friend. Follow me.” He led Thraun out of the warehouse.

  “I can’t find one I like either,” Joan said bleakly. “I do not know what kind of weapon I would use. I can hardly imagine impaling anything.”

  “Battle can be quite an unpleasant ordeal,” Ysseri agreed. “Without the right tool, you can be easily overtaken.”

  “But I do not wish to do battle with a sword,” Joan said. “My aquamancy is all that makes me a threat to Argain and his forces.”

  “That, and your conviction,” Auric said.

  “But I don’t have the strength to fight a full-grown man,” Joan said. “The heaviest thing I’ve ever lifted is a flower pot.”

  “Many fight using advantages other than raw power,” Ysseri said. “Your friend Veese could not match the blow of a black raider with his elegant weapon. He guides the battle so that he does not have to. His advantage is his agility.”

  “So, you think I could be trained to use a weapon?” Joan asked.

  Ysseri looked Joan up and down before saying, “You are of a light build, slender, but you are stronger than you give yourself credit for. Perhaps a weapon to suit your physique…” She walked around the room, examining the pieces before finding what she was looking for and pulling a thin, strange looking blade from a rack. It was an odd thing, with only one side sharpened while the other side was dull. Not vast in length, it was not a dagger, but it certainly was not a sword.

  “A long knife,” Ysseri said, handing the weapon to Joan. Joan took it with a skeptical look on her face and ran her fingers around the dull edge. “I believe it suits you well. It is narrow. It won’t weigh you down, and its grace in battle will prove an advantage over bulky weapons. It will be able to block superficial blows, if need be, and it is small enough to use in dire situations.”

  “It’s like nothing I’ve ever carried before,” Joan said, but even a fool could see the design was growing on her.

  Thraun and the blacksmith returned, Thraun looking quite satisfied with the tool he carried. Auric almost laughed at the obviousness of the choice, a broad shield with four curved edges, three points at the top and one at the bottom.

  “Why did we not think of that earlier?” Auric asked.

  “The choice was glaring me in the face, wasn’t it?” Thraun asked, grinning.

  “Have we made our decisions, then?” the blacksmith asked.

  “I believe so,” Joan said, showing the blacksmith her pick.

  “Ah,” he said, eyeing the weapon. “I could not have recommended a better fit myself. Certainly Ysseri helped you choose it?”

  “She did,” Joan said before nodding to Ysseri in thanks. Like Auric’s, Ysseri also paid the blacksmith for Thraun and Joan’s metal workings, and after bidding the blacksmith farewell, the company left the forge. It was not long before they were intercepted by Zanesh.

  The Martin warrior looked wilder than ever, her hair a mess and her eyes bloodshot as she practically shouted at Ysseri. “They said you had come here,” she spoke accusingly. “Ysseri, our people will not survive another attack. Our scouts have spotted a second group of black raiders joining with the first, doubling their numbers! If they strike, we will fall.”

  “Calm down, Zanesh,” Ysseri said. “You need rest. Allow me to manage your affairs this evening. I will warn the people. We will not be taken without a fight. Go back with Auric, Joan, and Thraun. If you are to be any use in battle, you must find peace.”

  Zanesh looked ready to argue, but as Ysseri’s calm, authoritative words worked their magic, the battle mistress brought a hand up to lay on her forhead. “Of course. You are right, as usual.”

  Auric, Joan, Thraun, and Zanesh all stood and watched as Ysseri strolled to the center of Oluld’s square and climbed onto a small wall where she could be heard by the most people. Quite an unusual sight she was, the hem of her gown lifted so the splotchy skin of her ankles could be seen above her socks and slippers.

  “Hear me now, people of Oluld!” she shouted with a voice so prominent it seemed impossible to come from such an elderly woman. She waited for a moment for a group to gather around her before continuing, “Our enemy has sought to end us twice now, and we have not fallen. The first attack was without our knowledge, and we took a hard blow. The second came more swiftly than we could conceive, and once again we were caught unprepared. Our wounded are many, our dead are abundant, but this time, we will not be taken off guard. Our enemy has grown greatly in strength since our last encounter, but they will not take us off guard. Should they attack before the second dawn coming, we will not have aid from Winteden. We will be alone, but we will not be taken off guard! They will send their horses and their spears, but no matter how many their number, they will understand what it means to attack Oluld as they have. The black armor will strike the ground by the love of our neighbors, and the strength of our honor!”

  The cheers around her were so enthusiastic Auric almost wanted to shout along with them, but he figured the audience didn’t need his help in voicing their agreement. The people of Oluld were not discouraged at all considering the losses they had sustained, and Auric saw why; with leadership like Ysseri, defeat didn’t even seem possible.

  -

  Auric, Joan, and Thraun returned to the Long House with Zanesh to find the rest of their party gathered around Dalk. He was holding his newly-enhanced sword for the others to see and looked quite impressed with it himself.

  “How is it?” Auric asked, approaching his friends. “Did it turn out as expected?”

  “Better,” Dalk said, and he brandished the weapon before him. It appeared as though runes had been carved along both sides of the blade, letters and symbols that glowed a remarkable light blue. As Dalk waved it, Auric felt the cold wafting off the blade, and he took a step back to avoid the frigidness.

  “Amazing,” Auric said.

  “Veese was eager to have his blade improved next,” Dalk said. “He’s in there with Emule and Marima. I see you have new weapons.”

  “Indeed,” Auric replied, pulling his new, silver-hilted sword from its sheath.

  “Not bad,” Dalk said. “And a broad shield for Thraun, how fitting.” Thraun grinned, his shield secured to his back with a leather strap.

  “Aren’t you going to admire mine, Dalk?” Joan asked and drew her long knife.

  “My, my,” Dalk said. “I would never have imagined you’d pick so fiercely.”

  “Perhaps you don’t know me as well as you thought,” Joan said.

  “I think it’s quite suiting,” Kandon spoke up. Joan smiled at him, and she slipped her blade away.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t
want a newer weapon, Ziem,” Thraun said. “That old thing looks like it’s about had it.”

  Ziem glanced at the sword he carried in his one mobile hand, one of the blades Veese had leant them back in the Cursed Forest so early on in their adventure. “I like it,” he said. “I haven’t had to use it, but it’s been a comfort to me knowing it’s here.”

  “I understand,” Thraun said. “Funny how some objects become so close to us.”

  “You want to see a real weapon?” Zanesh asked, and the gathered people were surprised she was still standing nearby. With a lavish sweep, she pulled her sword from its sheath and held it upright so it glimmered in the sunlight shining through the windows. The blade was blue and seemed to be made entirely of gemstone.

  “Incredible,” Dalk said. “I did not notice it when we fought alongside one another just yesterday.”

  She lowered it from the light, and in the gloom, it looked very much like a normal blade. “It only appears blue when sunlight hits it just right,” Zanesh said. “It’s made of something our miners call azure bedrock. Strongest substance of the known world, and surprisingly malleable.”

  “It is quite impressive,” Auric said as Zanesh sheathed her weapon. “Have you heard anything more of that spy that’s gone to deliver information to Argain?”

  “Chey,” Reon spoke up suddenly. “Her name is Chey,” his face was dark, but also anxious, and he turned to walk away, his shoulders slouching uncharacteristically.

  “We have not seen her,” Zanesh replied, ignoring Reon’s comment. “However, we weren’t looking for her. Her identiy is revealed. She will deliver no more information to our enemy. I will rest now.” The tired warrior stalked away in search of quarters to relax in.

  “Was Reon close with Chey?” Auric asked. “I hadn’t realized.”

  “Well, she taught him proper swordplay,” Joan said. “Unless she taught him wrong, it doesn’t make sense to me why she would help him while being one of Argain’s pawns.”

  “She certainly taught him correctly,” Dalk stated. “Reon can hold his sword with more confidence than most can with such little time practicing.”