by Mike Simmons
Edward looked to the floor, embarrassed.
“Sorry friend, I’ve had that problem for countless years. I hope I did not keep you from your rest.”
“No problem, I couldn’t sleep anyways. I have put a few things together that we will need for our trip to Victorville. Help yourself to some of that flatbread; it has cinnamon and raisins it. I made it yesterday, but it is still soft.”
Edward gave a pleased nod as he walked over to the flatbread sitting on the counter. Edwards's voice sounded with worry.
“You realize what this means, right? If you are the true one bearing the mark of the Red Star, then the things you do are weaved throughout the prophecies. Amazing things can happen to you, friend. Amazing, and possibly horrible things." Edward took a big bite of the flatbread.
“I like to think that I have some say in what happens in my life. I do not know how much control I really have, but I hate to think my life is a story that is already written. If we can use the prophecies to guide us, then wonderful, but it scares me to death to think that we don’t have a choice." Brandon went over to the wall, where a thick leather belt hung on a nail. Two short swords were hooked on either side of the buckle. He lifted the belt and stared at the swords. He nodded slightly to the swords, as if saying something to them, unlatched the buckle, and fastened the belt around his waist.
“Are you any good with those?” Edward asked in curiosity. Brandon chuckled.
“I don’t consider myself a sword master by any means, if that is what you are asking, but I like to think that I could hold my own against someone else who wasn’t a master either. Matthew and I used to spar for hours on end when we were kids. We fought all the time; fighting was one of the few things we both loved with a passion. We fought all the way up until the night before he . . .” A distant look glazed Brandon’s eyes.
“Again Brandon, I am sorry for your loss." Edward tried to change the subject. “There is a weapon master in Victorville. He is well known for his skill in weaponry and his ability to teach that skill to others. He owes my sister a favor and I’m sure we could use some of his knowledge." Edward snickered.
“What kind of favor does he owe her?” Brandon asked, looking at the old man with a crooked glare.
“The story is kind of comical. My sister is a wonderful cook, and she is known around town for her famous berry pies. After baking them, she would put them up in her window for cooling. The aroma of her pies filled the city with smells of cooked fruit. She made him a special one so that he could please a woman he was interested in. He said he owed her one. He’s always asking her if there is anything he can do for her. Maybe he’ll help us out.”
Brandon split a small smile at the story.
“Why would we need the help of a weapons master? You talk as if we are going to hack down all the denizens of evil, and free the world of tyranny and destruction,” he said, jokingly. Brandon froze still when he heard nothing back from Edward.
“We have a lot to discuss, dear boy. We will talk on our way out of town.”
Brandon’s eyes slowly glided up to Edward.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Please tell me you are joking." Brandon shook his head doubtfully. “I am a nobody in this world. It is full of people who can do mind blowing things. There are people out there that can make someone want to do things they wouldn’t normally do, and not think twice about it. I am not talking about persuasion; I am talking about actually changing someone’s free will. There are people out there that lead thousands of soldiers into battle, knowing where they all are, and conquer foes bigger and stronger than them. These people have skills and abilities that dwarf anything I have even dreamed of having. I am no one to save anyone else. I could not even save my best friend, or Margaret. You’ve got the wrong person if you think I am going save the world.”
“Brandon, don’t kid yourself, I am a Sensor, remember? I know you are gifted in the sphere of Will, although I am unable to tell to what extent, which is odd.” Edward scrunched his eyebrows at that thought, as if it just hit him. “You are the first person that I haven’t been able to read; maybe it’s because of the power of the prophecy page you are carrying. I am not sure really. You are gifted, Brandon."
Brandon nodded slightly. “I am a healer. I have known it ever since I was little. Anytime I would get a cut, or a scrape, with a little concentration, it was as if I could speed up the body’s natural healing process. Just because I can do that does not make me anyone special. Matthew was special, and he was not gifted. My talents don’t make me the one who will save the world, Edward,” Brandon spoke as if finished with this conversation.
“You have fulfilled strands of prophecy already; the page you have proves it. For he who bears the Red Star, those things would happen. They happened and there is no way you can argue that. There is no way you can question that those things could have happened to someone else. They were too specific. It is not as if this is a string of extreme coincidences. These things are determined by powers beyond us. Hion Starseer,” he said as he looked up to the sky as if asking for forgiveness for using his name, “was First Knight of the Brotherhood of Seers. His ability is unmatched by anyone to date. I still do not know how you got a hold of that page, but you are meant to have it. Someone needed you to read it. You are the one who was born bearing the Mark of the Red Star. You are meant for great things, Brandon. Do not instill doubt in yourself.”
Brandon zipped the tie closed on the overstuffed pack. It looked like a pillowcase with one too many pillows shoved inside it; its seams stretched at every stitch.
“Maybe you are right, maybe you are not. It seems as if I am puppet being guided by someone else’s hand, but I do not believe you would do me harm. Let’s go old man, the sun will be rising shortly, and we have a long road ahead of us." He hit Edward on the shoulder with the flat of his hand, as his lips turned upwards into a small smile. Edward snatched up two more pieces of the cinnamon and raisin flatbread, and followed at Brandon’s heals.
Edward closed the door behind him as they left the small farmhouse. The air held a chill from the night's last breath. Brandon walked over to the small stable house on the side of his property. Inside were two beautiful Friesian horses, a lighter colored black mare, and a jittery, dark black stallion. The horses seemed well taken care of; Edward could tell that their luxurious manes, tails, and feathered feet were often groomed. Edward smiled; their strong, driving and bearing hindquarters would be able cover a great deal of ground.
“This is Baby,” Brandon said, throwing a saddle over the mare’s back, “and that’s Firecracker. His saddle is off to your left there. Can you get him ready to ride by yourself?”
Edward nervously eyed the huge stallion. Having a name like Firecracker did not make him feel any better. He would have preferred a name like ‘Softy’ or ‘Not-going-to-kill-me’.
“Yes… I can get him ready,” he stuttered, wondering why he could not ride Baby.”
“Yes, I can get him ready,” he stuttered. Edward wondered why he could not ride Baby. Brandon chuckled to himself as he saw Edward’s nervous anticipation.
“Don’t worry Edward, he’s only bucked off two people,” Brandon said with a large smile on his face. Edward’s eyes got huge as they darted over to Brandon, the saddle frozen in his hands halfway up the horse’s back. Brandon laughed.
“Don’t worry old man, he’s strong, but he’ll let you control him. Get that saddle up there; we’ve got riding to do." Brandon pulled on the billet strap, ensuring its tightness. The leather creaked with each pull.
Edward mumbled under his breath as he got Firecracker ready to ride. Brandon mounted up on Baby, who pranced around impatiently, as Edward finished locking down the saddle. He shot an uneasy look at Brandon before he grabbed the saddle and threw his leg over the top. Firecracker lunged a step forward as he mounted, making Edward’s face turn ghost white. Brandon chuckled again.
“Don’t forget Edward, you are his master, not the other way a
round. Take control or he’ll do what he wants to do.”
Edward gave a quick, nervous nod.
They walked the horses to the main city road and headed north. The sun began to peak its head up over the mountaintop and the town bustled with movement. Vendors stocked up their carts with their wares and shop owners unlocked their doors. No one paid any attention to the two riders as they traveled through.
A few minutes into their ride, Brandon made Edward aware of men riding into town ahead of them. All four rode impressive stallions. Their warhorses, adorned in full battle armor, matched the armor worn by their riders. An embossed letter “R” crested each man’s pauldron. The man in the lead scanned the town with purpose as he talked to the men flanking his sides.
“If we are attacked, we will have two breech points, the north gate behind us, which is unlikely, and the south gate, which is at the end of this road. If they march from Orlimay, we will be hit at the south gate. Keep in mind the border is only a half days ride to the south. Luckily, this town in not on the main roadways that lead from Orlimay to the cities northeast of us, and it has never been attacked before. We must get the provisions and gear ready for pickup. Setup a medic tent somewhere in the center of town. Let Mayor Hancock know that we have arrived and are grateful for his cooperation in this matter. We will do all we can to prevent any attacks against his city while this war is taking place. We should have more than enough men here to protect it.”
His words fell into mumbles as they rode past, peeking Brandon’s curiosity.
“Who was that? And I wonder what they are doing here?”
Edward spoke as a teacher would. “Those are Lord Reinhold’s men. Did you see the crested “R” on their armor? From the sounds of it, Lord Reinhold is going to set station here. He must see this as a key point of interest for this war with Aurora. I cannot see the logic in that though, unless they plan to attack Orlimay, which certainly is not a good idea. Many other places would be easier to control. If Aurora wants to make it deep into our Kingdom, she would most likely head east along the Paraline River or west towards Jellindor." Edward shrugged.
They rode past the two city guards standing at the north gate, giving them respective nods as they went out. Up ahead of them, the two men saw eight wagons connected to armored horses, and men bustled to their duties with purpose. A few mounted knights worked along the roadside, monitoring the actions of those on the ground. The knights watched the two men leaving the city gates. Wooden crates were stacked oddly next to the wagons, and piles of weapons, separated by type, lay about the ground around them. They sorted and prepared the items from the wagons. The knight in town talked about these men. Brandon counted at least sixty heads.
As they strode forward another few yards, Edward stopped Brandon with the tips of his fingers on Brandon’s forearm.
“Stop, something isn’t right. There’s danger here,” Edward whispered.
“These men don’t mean us harm old man, you must be . . .”
“No! It is not them I am worried about. I sense danger Brandon, and a Gifted,” he muttered under shallow breath. As soon as he spoke, armored fighters leaped from the tree line and sprang towards the caravan. The charging fighters were tall and lean, and were plated in armor from head to toe. They wielded long metal staves with sword-like blades on the end of them as they crashed into the unsuspecting knights, and they were women! With a loud bone-shattering crack, Brandon’s face met the end of a metal staff that toppled him over his horse. The spray of blood from Brandon’s nose skittered across Edward’s clothes. Hands slapped Edward in the chest and closed around his robe, pulling him off his horse and slamming him into the ground. The horses jumped at the ambush and bolted towards town. As Edward looked up, the blonde Maiden above him drew a short sword knocked at her belt.
“Blade Maidens!” he yelled in total shock. Edwards’s eyes went to Brandon, who moaned on the ground. His hands clutched his nose as blood poured through his fingers. The red-haired maiden above Brandon raised her Maiden’s Blade high in the air, intent on beheading him. She slammed the blade down towards Brandon's neck.
Edward’s eyes closed tightly. He reached deep, pulling at the power that slept within him. He needed it now, more than ever. Beckoning its energy, the magical power awakened with renewed vigor. He looked at the blonde Maiden who pulled him off his horse. His mind connected with hers, as his magic took over. She felt her own thoughts vanish. A loud clang rang through the air. Edward looked up as the blonde Maiden thrust her sword, blocking the other’s blade from Brandon’s neck.
“Jenna?” Lynn asked, questioning her sister’s actions. She showed surprise at the stopping of her kill.
With a twisting of her waist, Jenna reared back and bashed the back of her armored hand into the Lynn’s face. With the hit, Lynn crashed into the ground, losing her blade. Jenna sprang towards the fallen Maiden, straddling her body with her legs. With a quick raise of her sword she attacked, arching it down into the dirt as Lynn twisted her head to the side, simultaneously sweeping Jenna’s legs out from under her. Lynn hammered her fist into Jenna’s chest as she hit the ground, making her whelp from the force. Lynn pulled a stiletto from her belt. She raised her hand to bring it down upon Jenna, but Jenna’s hand locked hard onto her wrist, and a frantic wrestle ensued. Jenna fought hard amidst yells of anger and questioning from her sister.
Edward rolled quickly over towards Brandon.
“Get up boy! Get up! We don’t have much more time!" He hooked his hand under Brandon’s armpit and helped him to his feet. The dust cloud from the fighting Maidens filled the air. Edward could hear the screams of dying men back towards the wagons.
“C’mon boy! Move!" They scuttled towards their horses, which stopped about twenty paces off. Both of the horses, wide eyed with nervous excitement, pranced as if stepping on hot ground. Edward helped Brandon mount up, and threw his leg over Firecracker. He turned both horses to the east, but before he went, he glanced back at the brawling sisters, then towards Reinhold’s men. None of Reinhold’s men still stood; most sprawled across the ground in pools of their own blood. A few were bound and gagged. Edward could not see any dead Maidens. Standing in the middle of the road by the wagons, a lone Maiden stood with her fists on her hips, staring at the two of them. The wind flicked strands of her long blond hair across her face. Her glaring eyes struck at Edward; her grey, glaring eyes. Edward stared back at her momentarily.
“Yaw!” he yelled at Firecracker as the heel of his boot spurred into the horse’s side. Firecracker jumped forward and burst into a full sprint. Brandon and Baby followed close behind them. As they trailed out of view, Jenna’s eyes refocused.
“Stop! Stop! That was not me sister. Please! Stop! That was not me! He must have been gifted. I could see what I was doing, but I had no control over myself!” she said as she intercepted Lynn’s blade from colliding with her head. Her sister stared intently into Jenna’s eyes for a moment, and lowered her weapon. The grey-eyed master walked up behind them.
“Jenna. Lynn. Get the rest of Reinhold’s men gathered up. Burn the wagons. Smash their extra weapons and armor and make sure nothing is left. Take the prisoners to the horses. We will make camp on our side of the border; Empress Aurora must know of this situation. You have twenty minutes. Don’t fail me,” she demanded as she stared off towards where Edward and Brandon had gone.
The two women spoke in unison. “Yes, Commander General Lomire. Your wish is my command.”
Chapter 2 - A Fate To Follow
The reality of the war between the two kingdoms became strikingly real as Brandon and Edward rode from Greylin. The slight breeze made the day's heat bearable but the temperature kept rising. Neither of the men had a lot to say; thoughts of the day’s earlier events occupying their minds. Edward glanced over at Brandon. He could feel the waves of magic coming from him as he cupped his right hand over his broken nose. He pulled at his power, and healed himself. Edward could sense it.
They had been kee
ping a hard pace; Baby and Firecracker still held a steady speed. Both men wanted to put as much distance between them and the Blade Maidens as possible. A foamy, white froth had gathered around the mouths of the horses, and they were sweating profusely, especially around the saddles. Edward flipped his head around, as he had been periodically doing since their encounter with the Blade Maidens, and surveyed the road and tree lines to see if anyone followed them. The sun sat motionless in the center of the sky, and heat rose from the road, making it appear to wiggle in long waves up ahead of them.
“We have to stop Edward, we are pushing the horses too hard in this heat,” Brandon yelled up to Edward. Edward looked over at him, and agreed with a nod. The swelling in Brandon’s nose had vanished, along with the bruising, and the only remnants of damage were the traces of dried blood around the base of his nostrils.
“Okay, there’s water through the trees off to our right,” Edward hollered back as he pulled on Firecracker’s reigns. “We can stop by the stream and let the horses rest there.”
As Edward slowed, he yanked the reigns to his right, and led Firecracker off the shoulder of the road. Brandon trailed behind him, flanking up to march on Edward’s right side.
“Pretty familiar with the lands, eh, old man? I’ve lived here my whole life and wasn’t aware of a stream over here,” Brandon said with a smile. Edward chuckled.
“Ya know boy, for someone who is supposed to save the world, you sure don’t have a good memory. I’m a Sensor, remember?" Edward gave him a joking glare.
“First of all, enough of that ‘save the world’ stuff. And you tell me that you are a Sensor, but I’ve never been educated on the different types of magic. I’m sorry, but I don’t know much about it, other than the small things that I can to do. No one has taught me; I learned by myself. I don’t really know what a Sensor is either. I assume it means that you can sense things, but I don’t understand how that works.”