by BJ Hanlon
“The child fell sick and we couldn’t move him,” Horston said his voice seeming to come out of the darkness.
“Ahh, a sick child with a sword… well you see your offer of meat sounds swell to me and I do not doubt your honesty.”
A man began to lower himself to Edin’s left as like a crillio ready to pounce.
“You see my men and I are hungry; the guards have turned us away. They called us bandits, do you believe that?” The terrin shook his head. “While I’m not a fan of the taste, your flesh will satiate our stomachs just the same.”
“Our flesh?” Edin said then realized what he was saying.
The terrin gave a halfhearted shrug as if apologizing for telling them they were on the dinner menu was a simple misunderstanding.
“Big word for a thug,” Horston called out. Even in this position, he had no qualms with taking a jab. He would’ve laughed if he was so scared. Maybe he could stall, wait for Grent and Dephina to return. If they even would tonight. His heart was racing as his mind moved. “You eat people?” It was all he could say, the only words he could get out.
“Look at him, boss, he’s shaking…” one of the men said.
“If we’re going to be eaten, we’d rather have a higher-class person eat us. Like a muckraker.” Horston said.
“You don’t insult us,” the terrin shouted. “Attack.” A man leapt at Edin. A large two-handed sword raised. More movement to his right, another man.
He watched the blade coming down its dull metal barely reflecting the little dying sunlight. Edin tried stepping back and raising his blade to block, but the pain in his leg caused him to stumble. His eyes went dark for a moment and Edin heard a grunt and a gasp.
He looked up and saw his blade had cut the man’s stomach. The bandit’s eyes were open and there was a splashing sound, like dumping a pale of water onto a cobblestone floor. Edin instantly kicked back, trying to get away from the collapsing body. He spun and planted both hands on the ground and saw the second attacker’s blade coming down at him. Edin leapt forward driving his shoulder into the man’s chest and pushing him. A sudden thud and scream came as they stopped. A tree stood above them. The man’s eyes closed as Edin stepped back, spun, and swiped his blade through the man’s neck. The head fell off and rolled into the darkness.
Edin turned back to the group only a few yards away. Suddenly, all three sprang forward. Attacking one at a time but alternating and giving Edin no moment to rest. His arm was growing tired, and his leg throbbed.
Something whipped through the air, a black object barely seen in the light. The man on the right suddenly lurched left, his body colliding with that of the terrin. It took only a moment, for Edin to parry the last guy’s thrust, spin the blade in a huge arc and slash down at an angle. Edin’s sword dug into the shoulder with such force it got stuck for just a moment. Edin tightened his grip on the hilt and kicked the man’s chest. He fell back like a tree after a lumberjack finished his business.
Suddenly the terrin was in front of him. He screamed like a phantom wraith, his sword blows coming faster and harder. Edin was still on the defensive moving up hill and trying to pay attention to his opponent’s hips, and stance as well as the ground. He grew more exhausted. Nothing was stopping the man.
The terrin leapt back panting. “You’re… fast,” he said before pulling out another blade, a shortsword, for his off hand. Another duel-wielder. The terrin moved toward him quickly, closing the three-yard difference in a moment and struck with his longsword, then the short. Edin could almost hear the blades humming in the air as he blocked the first, then the second. The attack was quick and Edin retreated trying to stay out of range of the smaller blade while dodging or parrying the larger one.
It went on, Edin didn’t know for how long. He felt his defenses slowing and with them, the terrin’s grin grew. Another strike and the blade twisted in Edin’s hand as sparks flashed off it and his hand stung.
Edin’s grip was failing and a moment later, the shortsword came up and crashed into the blade just before the hilt. His sword twisted in his hand and flew into the dark forest. The terrin thrust with his longsword like a fencer aimed at his heart.
A wrenching, feeling came in his stomach as the ethereal shield flew out from his body. The sword slammed into it as if it were a stone wall. There was a snapping sound and the terrin cried out, his black steel sword dropping to the ground. Edin dropped the shield and pulled out the hunting dagger. The terrin was too stunned to say anything, do anything. Edin slashed at the terrin’s neck, but Edin was too tired, and the strike was off, catching his already injured arm.
The terrin screamed out gripping his injured arm. “You’re a bloody mage…” He was huffing as the words came out. “You could’ve bloody warned us.”
Edin said nothing, the pain in his leg beginning to return. He was feeling tired and sore as adrenaline started to seep from his body. Maybe the terrin would run… but now he knew Edin’s secret one that couldn’t get out. He had to kill him. Edin lifted his knife. A moment later, the hand that Edin had thought was clutching the other wrist whipped out. In less than a half a second, he felt the burning in his collar and stumbled back.
Edin didn’t think, all he remembered was the crillios and the spear. Edin whipped his arm forward miming some sort of throw. He caught a glimpse of the white light illuminating the dark forest.
There was a coughing and gurgling sound and Edin leaned into a tree.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Horston moving down toward him. “You okay?” Edin asked, his legs giving up.
“Me?” Horston said in the darkness. “Quit it boy, you’ve been stabbed…”
He felt the blade in him and looked at it with a bit of surprise. His head swam. It was very dark now and Edin couldn’t see the old man’s face. Edin slid down the tree trunk. “Maybe start a fire.” Edin’s eyes closed and he fell asleep.
His head throbbed as water was poured down his throat. In his mouth, he tasted remnants of blood. Everything hurt even while he was lying still. He felt hands on his chest as something was being peeled away. Edin moaned and it was ripped away quickly.
“He’s awake,” Master Horston whispered. Footsteps were coming toward him crunching on the ground. Edin’s chest thumped and forced his eyes to open.
Sun was filtering through the trees above Master Horston. The old man was leaning over him with a cloth the color of diluted blood. Grent stood back, his mouth firm under the mustache.
Edin’s pulse slowed, he was with his companions.
“You fought a terrin?” he said shaking his head. “I’m not sure how you survived. It should be impossible.”
“Unless the so-called terrin was lying,” Master Horston said looking at Grent. “He was fast but not as quick as you.”
Edin blinked, he didn’t feel like talking right now. His body craved more sleep. A sharp pain was stabbing into him just below the collar bone and his limbs felt like lead. He could still feel the tightness in his hip.
Master Horston grabbed a waterskin and held it to Edin’s mouth. He sucked it down until he felt as if he was going to throw up from it.
The smell of something cooking came to him and he glanced toward the campfire. Dephina stood over a large pot and was ladling a mysterious food into a wooden bowl.
“You did a lot of shopping?” Edin said trying to smile. Back home, he rarely saw men at the market unless they were hawking their wares or escorting women.
Dephina moved toward them with the full bowl.
“Not my favorite task,” Grent huffed glancing toward Dephina. She set it next to Edin and stood back, slipping an arm around Grent.
Edin grimaced sitting up. A brown soup with chunks of white meat, carrots and potatoes smelt amazing. He picked it up and moved it to his lips. “It’s hot,” Grent said.
His mouth watered. “Chicken?”
Grent nodded as Edin started to slurp the delicious broth. He didn’t care about the heat; the broth carried salty
flavors that tingled on his tongue. His stomach may have been full of water but he took down the entire bowl in moments. He noticed that both Grent and Dephina seemed to be completely healed. That was good.
Edin laid back, slowly a measure of strength was returning to him and despite the throbbing pains and exhaustion. Eventually, he would feel normal. Edin looked up at the terrin, his hand reaching up and grabbing the fang pendant.
“How long was I out?” Edin said. It was night when he fought and despite it being daytime, he didn’t know what time it was.
Grent grunted. “A day and a half,” he said, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “I thought you’d never wake up and the three of us forfeited our lives for nothing.”
Edin took a breath and then the words sunk in. He looked at Grent, then at Master Horston and Dephina. “How’d you forfeit your life? You’re still alive.”
“We travel with a magus, at the very least we won’t be able to return to Resholt once we leave.” Grent sat down across from Edin, resting his back against a tree. “I got you something,” he said and picked up a long light-colored piece of wood. “A staff, to placate Horston over there. Heck, all mages should carry one. Though this is just a normal quarterstaff, not Ironwood or an enchanted staff.”
“Enchanted?” Edin asked.
“I’ve heard of them, though I’ve never seen one.”
“I have,” Dephina said, “they’re extremely rare because they are passed down in mage bloodlines or lost to history. Few bloodlines still exist from the time of the Kingdom thanks to the Por Fen and Vestion. But there are some here and there. One visited the House from some far away land across the sea called Seoreh.”
“They float around, collectors, nobles, or kings tend to have them.” Master Horston started to chuckle and they glanced at him. “A few decades back, a boy, not much older than Edin here found one while adventuring in some old ruins… he ended up turning himself into a cripple and nearly died trying to use it.”
“They’re not for the weak minded,” Dephina said. “Supposedly more than one girl has lost their life trying to wield a magical staff.”
Edin shifted trying to sit up even further and looked at Horston who was still grinning. “Why’s that funny?” Edin took it and looked over it. The wood was smooth and the color of the inside of a pine tree.
Master Horston shrugged. “It just is.”
“Also, this is yours,” Grent said handing him a sword. It wasn’t his sword, he looked up at Grent and furrowed his brow. “No, it’s not the one from the armory. It was the terrin’s. Made from Eluvrian Steel.”
It was a dark metal inlaid with a slightly lighter design. A bit like Dephina’s knives, though the design was different.
“Very few smiths can work with the metal and even fewer know how to get their hands on a quantity large enough to forge something,” Dephina said. “But, one of these can cut through almost any armor. It makes them extremely expensive.”
“What about you?”
“I have one,” Grent said pulling his blade and showing it to Edin.
The color was slightly lighter and instead of black marks inlaid there was white. “It’s different due to the place it’s forged. This one is a northern blade. Yours is a southern. Base metal is the same but where it is forged and who has made it determines the color and inlay.”
Edin gripped it in his good hand. It felt lighter than his old one. The cross guard was flat on the bottom but rose at an angle to meet the blade on the top. The weapon was also a little longer than he was used to but felt well balanced.
“We’re going to need you to rest up, tomorrow, we skirt the city before sunrise and make our way down the cliffs.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to climb down…”
“There is a switchback path, it’s treacherous. A smuggler gave us the location,” Grent said.
“You mean gave me the location,” Dephina said smiling. “I had to use my feminine charm… it always works.” She flashed her eyelashes at Grent.
He sighed. “It’s a half a day north. Probably take us the same amount of time to descend. The patrols aren’t our biggest worry, it’s the Great Cliff Raptors. If they grab you they’ll throw you from the cliff and feast on your crumpled remains,” Grent said.
“What are those?”
“Giant birds.” Grent said.
“I’m sick of everything wanting to eat us,” Edin said as he lowered his head back to his pack. He held his sword in one hand and the quarterstaff in the other. “Why can’t these raptors just grab a steak or something?”
9
Why Do Predators Fly
It was midafternoon by the time they reached the cliffs. The trail head was a small sign, almost invisible to the eye unless you knew what you were looking for. It was a cross, with an unintelligible word on it. They followed a winding trail through thick bramble bushes and imposing trees to a tiny clearing over the plains of Dunbilston.
The cliffs were higher than Edin expected, though he previously couldn’t fathom how high three hundred yards was. A breeze caught him and brought shivers down his spine.
He couldn’t help but gape at the drop. It was as if the earth was cleaved by a giant being or one of the gods. There was no way even a magus could do this.
After a moment, when the shock wore off, his eyes roamed from side to side looking for anything that could be considered a smuggler trail. He saw nothing. The cliffs weren’t a sheer drop, but it was pretty close to it.
“How is this even possible?” Edin asked as he looked straight ahead. He could see for leagues, maybe hundreds of leagues into the distance. The sun was over their heads and he felt the warmth of its late morning light.
Nearly endless prairie lands rose and fell, grasses blowing like waves in the wind with only small swatches of trees breaking up the green sea. North he could see water, hills and light brown cliff faces that were much shorter than theirs. Further, he knew were a few small villages and huge mountains. “How can people climb this?”
Grent shrugged as he drank from his waterskin. Edin glanced toward Master Horston who was leaning against a boulder and staring glassy-eyed into the distance. Edin never thought about it but the man looked to be around sixty and at that point looked every bit his age. He wasn’t sure if the old man would be able to make the decent. Edin reached up and adjusted the staff that was digging into his back between the shoulders.
“My guess is they only smuggle small objects, gems, perfumes maybe artifacts,” Dephina said.
His heart was racing and he suddenly felt a little dizzy, the decent didn’t look fun.
“If we get started and can keep going, we should be able to make it to the ground before nightfall.” Grent said. “There are caves and crevasses scattered throughout the cliffs but most of them are taken by the raptors. If you must stop please give me a warning.” Grent looked directly at Horston. The old man looked nearly green, but he nodded.
Edin motioned to the rope on his shoulder. “What are we going to do with that?”
“Tie ourselves together.” He crossed his arms, “I’ll lead, Edin in the rear.” Grent walked toward the boulder that Master Horston was leaning against. “You’ll be behind me.”
Grent circled the rope around himself and then the old man, he reached Dephina.
“Tying me up? Would’ve been more fun in Brisbi?” she said with a wink.
Grent blushed and moved to Edin. “Are you okay with heights?”
Edin tried to settle the pounding of his heart as he nodded. He was not okay with this but there was no other choice. “If you feel like you’re falling, try to jab the knife into the cliff. Angle it down if possible.”
Grent patted him on the shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile.
Edin tried to return it but couldn’t force himself to do so. Grent walked back down the line checking the rope and making sure everything was secure. He took a few steps toward the edge and apparently found what he was looking for. He sa
t down and hoped off as if he were dismounting a horse.
Edin moved closer to the edge and saw a foot-wide patch of rock. His legs almost buckled at the drop. “There has to be another way,” Edin said.
“This is it,” Dephina said, she put a hand on his shoulder as Master Horston moved closer to the edge ready for his turn. “You’ll be fine.” She kissed him on the cheek and went up behind the old man. Somehow, Master Horston seemed calm as he took a step down with Dephina steadying him.
Edin heard him whispering something. Edin shook his head and looked back to the trees and the forest. That was a landscape he was used to.
He’d been on the roof of the manor before, helping fix the thatch, but that wasn’t too bad. They could probably stack a hundred manors on top of each other and still not reach the top.
Edin’s palms felt sweaty as he began wiping them on his trousers. Shortly he felt a slight tug on the rope. Dephina was looking at him, her head barely peaking above the edge of the cliff.
“Come on child,” she said with a grin. “Time to be brave.” She winked.
Edin wiped his hands again and moved toward the cliff. At the edge he could see Grent and Master Horston creeping along a narrow path, each with one hand skimming the brown rock.
They moved slowly but it seemed methodical. Horston’s way of doing almost everything. Between each companion was about twenty feet of rope.
Focusing on the ledge he sat down and slid forward until he was only a foot off the path. He swallowed, let his heart steady and closed his eyes. “Don’t look down.” Edin said. It took another tug for him to look. He focused on the path and dropped. He landed, one hand still on the cliff face. Another deep breath and he began to move.
He had to watch Dephina. Edin couldn’t look anywhere else. Down, up, out over the plains… every view was one he wished never to see again. He had to focus. Edin kept one hand grasping the rope and the other dragging against the rocks clenching the few rounded nubs he found.