The Awakening (The Stones of Revenge)

by Sargeant, Justin

  ‘The man’s face held a look of shock, then slumped to his right side and fell to the ground without moving. The third man fled through the door. I picked myself up and looked toward the traveler’s table but she was gone. Rowan called out to banish me from his store because of the mess and assured me Lord Malchus would hear about it.

  ‘I ran out as fast as my feet could carry me. I blew through the door and was pelted by the fresh air outside. I had never killed a man before and knew only that I had to get away. I decided to walk briskly toward my home. I had only walked about two blocks when I thought I heard someone calling my name. I stopped to look around thinking it was someone from the tavern or a guard coming to arrest me but no one was there. I shook my head thinking I was hearing things, but before I could move again someone or something called my name again. This time it sounded as though it was coming from the alley on my left, so I decided to investigate.

  ‘The day had already been the worst of my life, so I couldn’t imagine how it could become any worse. I stepped into the alley, and the traveler from the bar stepped out of the shadows. She thanked me for helping her then said she wanted to repay me. I thought to myself, what could this homeless woman possibly have? She ruffled through a knapsack and pulled out a short dagger in a scabbard. It was studded with many dark jewels. She claimed it had strange properties and that it would bring me good luck. Normally, I would have taken it and tried to sell it, but there was an evil aura about it. She insisted that I take it, and her eyes held a passion and an anger I didn’t want to deal with. So, I fled as fast as I could.

  I knew not what happened to her, but I didn’t care to find out.”

  “Why did you not flee to Linsford, the City of Refuge? You know it is your only salvation if Malchus comes to exact justice.”

  “I know, but I could not simply abandon my family. It has taken us a number of days to make preparations.”

  “What about Rowan or Lord Malchus?” Mordecai asked.

  “I haven’t heard from Rowan nor the castle since then, though I doubt I am in the clear.”

  “More than naught, Rowan didn’t even report it.”

  “All the same, I don’t know if I want to find out.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “Most likely Linsford. I fear Malchus might pursue me further if I do not seek refuge. Either way, by the end of the week, this store will not exist any longer.”

  “Is there no one to whom you can sell it?”

  “Nay, the drought has hit everyone just as hard. No one has the collateral.”

  Mordecai reached out his arm. “I will be sad to see you leave. Best of luck Archer, and many thanks for yet another harness.” Archer returned the gesture and clasped his arm. They stood for a moment with a long look of friendship and appreciation between the two of them. Then, just as Mordecai turned to leave, the door to the store flung open and in walked Lord Malchus. Mordecai thought he caught a glint of something in Malchus’ eye. What it was or meant he couldn’t fathom, but it prompted a shiver to run down his spine. What have I gotten myself into, he thought.

  “Gentlemen,” the slow melodic voice began. “Gentlemen, I have been meaning to speak with both of you.

  Any hope Mordecai had of getting out of the building was thwarted with these words. He looked over to Archer and saw sweat running down the sides of his neck. Archer obviously expected death for his crime. Malchus moved into the room and slowly made his way up a row of shelves filled with dust and the occasional trinket to their location at the back of the store. His cape dragged along the ground creating a grating sound as he moved. He did not say another word until he stood before the two men. They bowed low.

  “Archer, it has come to my attention that a certain altercation has occurred in Mr. Rowan’s establishment. You know the law as it pertains to the death another person intentional or otherwise; therefore, I shall not expand upon it. I have a man outside waiting to take you into custody. I would prefer you to come quietly.”

  Archer stood in his place with a stunned look on his face. He knew he should have left much sooner, but he had sincerely hoped that Malchus would find an empty store when he came to call. His choice was simple; he had to leave with his Lord. Otherwise, his family would receive the punishment that he deserved.

  “Can you promise that my wife and children will be cared for?” he asked, his tone pleading for Malchus to forego the execution.

  “I can,” Lord Malchus said smoothly.

  “Then I submit to you,” Archer said sullenly. Malchus turned to lead Archer away. They only walked a few feet when Malchus stopped and spun around his eyes gleaming again.

  “I find your reticence and your submission rather comforting. I have a proposal for you that may allow me to circumvent the law. It is nasty business, but if you accept, I will stay your execution.”

  “What is it, my Lord?” Archer said grasping at anything to save his life.

  “There is a man here in town who has been eluding my grasp. If you saw to his execution, I would consider your debt paid in full.”

  “What is his name?” Archer asked readily accepting the job.

  “Daxis.”

  “Daxis? Daxis is a child’s nightmare created by parents to entice their children to be obedient.”

  “Be that as it may, that is your mission. I will give you a week’s stay of execution. If you can bring him to justice, you will go free.”

  Archer was stunned. He was given a ghost hunt as a mission. There was no possible way he could fulfill this mission. But feeling as though he had been deceived but left with no other option, he accepted. He then disappeared behind his counter with a dejected look in his gait. Lord Malchus turned his attention to Mordecai.

  “Ah, Mordecai, I have a mission of interest for you as well.”

  “Me? I have not murdered anyone,” he exclaimed with alarm.

  “No, no, of course not, this involves a different sort of choice,” Malchus said with a cold smile.

  “I’m afraid I will have to decline without hearing the offer. My nephew and I must return to our farm.”

  “Perhaps a little persuading is in order. What if I told you that the decision which is before you could save the life of your nephew?”

  “What danger is upon his life?” Mordecai asked cautiously.

  “The answer to that requires your acceptance of the task. I must know if I have your full confidence before I can divulge any secrets.”

  “Honestly, I do not like being put in a situation such as this,” Mordecai rebuked his Lord much stronger than he intended.

  “None the less, in this situation you are!” The Lord of Camsbury boomed. “And in grave danger is your nephew,” he said relaxing his voice this time. “Do I have your confidence?” Malchus asked. His cold smile remained but there was something else in his demeanor that was untraceable. He stood before Mordecai silently waiting for an answer.

  Mordecai knew that he could not take long to give an answer. This man still owned the land that he and Landon lived off of. There was still a possibility that he could renege on their deal to allow the land to pass into Landon’s hands if he did not cooperate.

  As if in response to his worries, Malchus added quietly, “I would hate to cancel our deal with regards to ownership of the farm.”

  This was the exact reason he wanted the land to go to Landon. He did not want the ruling elite to have this complete control over the direction of their lives. He did not seem to have a choice in this matter. After a long while pondering what to do, Mordecai knew that if there was any possibility that Landon’s life could be in danger, he had to see to it that the danger was eradicated. And since his hand was being forced, he replied, “I accept.”

  Chapter Five

  The Affliction of Innocence

  Landon stared at the precious ring in his hands. Fear, anger, sadness, pity, and a plethora of other emotions gripped him. The weight from the ring was tremendous. It echoed the weight on his soul. It was impossi
ble to believe that his father had left something for him. As he continued to gaze at the ring, he turned it every which way inspecting it as if to find his father’s face hidden somewhere amidst the curved surface. Landon wanted to emblazon the details of the ring upon his memory so as to never forget. This was now the only remnant of his father. This same ring had stood upon his hand; it had touched him. Then, like a back draft of flame, a thought struck him.

  “How did it come to be in your possession?” Landon asked with meaning and a hint of accusation.

  “Knowing it was to be yours one day, your father asked me if I might engrave a phrase upon the ring.”

  Landon again examined the ring. After a few minutes he looked up and said, “I have looked over every inch of this band, and I see no engraving upon it.” Landon was beginning to feel as though he was being tricked.

  “You speak quite well. There is no engraving.”

  “So you kept it for yourself?” Landon rose to his feet, a heat growing in his face.

  “Calm yourself, Landon son of Jediael. You act as a boy. That rage is quite unbecoming of a man.”

  “Then explain yourself!”

  “Your father,” Godfrey said calmly but with authority,” put the ring into my possession for the purposes of having it engraved; however, shortly after, a week to be precise, your father was killed, and I felt it a mistake to complete it since your father would not be around to explain the meaning of the phrase.”

  Landon’s anger was abated but not his distrust. He stood silent for a minute then sat down and asked,” Do you remember the line?”

  “Aye, I do; food, life; water, death.”

  “It’s a curious line indeed. I greatly wonder what he meant by it.”

  “As do I. Your father always did have a mysterious way about him. Perhaps he intended to teach you a great lesson one day or perhaps it is meant to remain a family secret. Either way, I know not and could not bear the burden of completing his request without knowing how to guide you to an answer.”

  Landon sat a long while in the candlelight gazing down at the bundle in his hands. His mind raced trying to solve the riddle his father had left for him. He dared not wear the ring for fear that he might betray the memory of his father. He vowed never to wear the ring until ascertaining the answer to the riddle. Godfrey sat across from the young man unsure of how to encourage the lad. Finally, it occurred to him.

  “Landon, your twentieth birthday is approaching this week, yes?” he inquired.

  “Aye,” came the soft reply from the young man his head still slumped towards his chest.

  “Then, I believe you are in need of a present.”

  “You have already given–”

  “Ah, that is a gift from your father,” he said interrupting him. “I offer you another gift. Achieving twenty years means achieving manhood. No self respecting man should walk around without a sword.”

  “Mordecai does not,” Landon said.

  “Forgive me, but I find your uncle to be a fool in this respect. A sword is a symbol of status, or authority, not to mention a weapon with which to defend yourself. I offer you a choice of any in my shop.”

  Stunned Landon was hesitant to accept. He knew the lecture he would receive from his uncle, but he was also becoming a man. This was his decision whether his uncle liked it or not. He perused the room with his eyes noticing the myriad weapons hanging all about. He stopped on an assortment hanging near the rear of the shop. Wrapping the ring in the cloth, he set it in his pocket and strode over to the collection.

  “Ah, that is my most valued collection,” Godfrey explained noticing Landon’s object of fascination. Turning aside Landon said, “Oh, I apologize.”

  “No, no,” laughed the smith. “I said from any, and I do mean that.”

  With a smile on his face, Landon returned his attention to the assortment. Picking up a sword he saw that it had a very straight edge, long and thin, with a hilt that wrapped itself intricately around the hand. It was exquisite, but seemed too delicate for Landon. He replaced it and retrieved another sword. This one’s blade was thicker than the first and flatter. The hilt splayed wings which wrapped towards the blade. He held it out to feel the weight and balance of the weapon. Landon had never really held a sword before, but he had heard stories from travelers that taught him both elements were essential in a fight. He could tell the sword was heavy and it used a lot of energy simply to raise it. He decided against it.

  Replacing it, he knocked over the sword next to it, and it fell to the ground producing a soft thud. Bending over, Landon noticed that it was not made of steel as the others were. Instead, this sword carried a soft reddish glow. The blade, which boasted a broad edge and curved to form a sharp point, appeared black. The edge of the blade closer to the hilt was narrower, but it curved up towards the broad end creating a sharp point on the front. The hilt was simple without any adornments.

  Landon reached down and picking it up immediately noticed how light it felt. The grip was soft to touch. Landon wielded it back and forth trying to become comfortable with it. As he moved it across his body, the light from the candles transformed the black blade into a dark crimson in flashes of streaking light.

  “Ah, excellent choice, a blade fashioned from taafeite found in the far reaches of the realm outside Seyleon. It has no equal and is as strong as the Castle of Bodam itself, minus the faulty foundation of course.”

  “It is perfect. I should love to have it, though I fear what uncle will say.”

  “Do not worry about that. If needs be, I will speak with him. Now, every sword must have a sheath.” And so saying, Godfrey turned around to dig through a trunk near his counter. After minutes of rustling and grunting, Godfrey extracted a fine sheath made of dark bronze and studded with gems matching the blade. It seemed an elegant weapon meant for a prince.

  Carrying it over to Landon, Godfrey retrieved the sword from him and slid it easily into its hold. He then returned the entire piece to Landon. Landon felt overwhelmed and unsure of what to say or do. Slowly, he buckled the belt around his waist feeling slightly uncomfortable from the weight.

  “Just look at you. You are the spitting image of your father.” He took a minute to relish the scene. “I suppose you have never fought with a sword, though. Well, we cannot send you out without at least some knowledge of sword play. Draw your sword.” So saying, Godfrey walked to the closest forge and picked up a thin sword. It was longer than Landon’s but not as strong.

  “The best position to defend yourself,” he began his instructions, “is with your opponent directly in front of you in a line with your feet. If he moves one way, you are to counter by moving in the opposite direction. If I step to my right, you step to your left. Ready?”

  Godfrey took one slide to his right, while Landon countered to his left.

  “Good. Now, again.” Again they repeated the move and again Landon countered. In an attempt to test Landon, he took two steps, and, to his surprise, Landon countered with two steps. He tried again but moving to his left two times instead of his right. Again Landon countered.

  “You are a quick study. Very well done,” Godfrey exclaimed with a smile. Now, a simple defensive move is to parry the sword keeping your opponent’s blade at a perpendicular angle to your own.”

  He then proceeded to give examples of this from an overhead attack, a side attack, and a forward thrust. Landon kept up fairly well; though, his footwork was lacking. Lastly, Godfrey showed him a few attack moves.

  “Remember, the easiest way to attack a foe is to deceive them into exposing themselves. A simple feint at the head will force your opponent to raise his arm. Then, all you need to do is quickly rotate your wrist and land a strike against his ribcage. The opposite is also true if you want to strike the head.” Once again he gave examples of how to perform these maneuvers. “Be careful because these skills I have shown you are the most basic and any experienced swordsman will easily know how to overcome them. Use what I have taught you only for d
efense.

  “I understand and thank you,” he said bowing as he would to a king. “I must be on my way, but I was hoping you might keep this for me,” he said reaching into his pocket and pulling out the bundle containing his father’s ring. “Please keep it and engrave the line as my father wished. I’ll return for it when it is finished.”

  “As you wish,” and he too returned the bow Landon had given him. Quickly, Landon exited the shop with his new sword hanging at his hip. He unstrapped Aquila from the post in front of Godfrey’s store and led her across the town square towards Archer’s Goods. Before he arrived, however, Mordecai exited the store followed by Lord Malchus. Immediately, Landon stopped and knelt before the Lord of Camsbury.

  “Arise,” came the curt reply from the noble. Landon stood and took his first long glance at the man who owned the farm he had been working all his life. Lord Malchus was a tall man with jet black hair. He had a very strong, rectangular jaw that befit his title. He wore a long black robe and a steel studded leather jerkin that made his impressive muscles seem even larger than they probably were.

  “You must be Landon. Mordecai has just been telling me all about you.” Landon stole a quick glance over to his uncle who stood behind the Lord. His face was a stone revealing no emotion. “I understand you will be becoming a man at the end of the week. Were you aware that your uncle has decided to turn over control of the farm to you, with my permission of course?”

  Shocked, Landon recoiled. He knew the husbandry laws clearly forbade it, so he never believed he would be allowed to inherit the farm. The day had already been too overwhelming. He had received two gifts in one day, each of which had flipped his perception of his world on its head. Now, he was receiving a third. His mind began to spin.