Sevenfold Sword: Champion

by Jonathan Moeller

  Ridmark grimaced. “Agreed.” His heart screamed at the delay. Calliande and Gareth and Joachim might be captives at the fortress even now, and he wanted to run there, storm the castra, kill anyone in his path, and free them. But rushing in like a fool would only get him killed. “Let’s use the rest of the sunlight to get as far as we can, and then find a place to rest. We should set out again before the sun comes up.”

  Kalussa nodded, adjusting the weight of her pack, and Ridmark walked past the dead lizards.

  “What are those things called, anyway?” said Ridmark.

  “The scutians?” said Kalussa. “The shield lizards. They are beasts of burden, and we use them to pull our wagons and our plows. They also taste quite pleasant.” She sighed and patted the dead lizard on its thick, wrinkled neck. “They are good animals, quite placid, and did not deserve to die like this. It was cruel of the Confessor’s soldiers to kill them out of hand.”

  “Yes,” said Ridmark. It also made sense. If they wanted to cripple King Hektor’s army over the long term, destroying the army’s beasts of burden would help do it. “Let’s keep moving.”

  Kalussa nodded, and they left the road, climbing back into the hills. Ridmark kept a watchful eye on the land around them, answering Kalussa’s questions with as few words as possible. There was no sign of any more muridachs or of the Confessor’s orcs. Perhaps the muridachs had taken enough plunder from the battlefield to satisfy their avarice. Perhaps the Confessor’s soldiers had all withdrawn to Castra Chaeldon to defend the fortress. Ridmark didn’t like that thought. It would make finding Calliande and Gareth and Joachim all the harder.

  He came to a sudden stop as they approached the top of another hill.

  “What is it?” said Kalussa at once, raising her bow.

  Ridmark frowned and looked down at Oathshield, drawing the sword a foot or so from its scabbard. The sword shivered in his grasp, and a pale white flame danced around the blue blade.

  “Why is your sword glowing like that?” said Kalussa.

  “Because creatures of dark magic are near,” said Ridmark. “Some of Archaelon’s undead, I expect.” For an instant, he had the horrible fear that Calliande and his sons had been slain and raised as undead creatures like those he had fought many times in the past.

  But he didn’t see anything moving nearby, save for the ripples of heat rising from the sun-warmed rocks of the hills.

  “I don’t see anything,” said Kalussa.

  “Do you have any spells to detect the presence of dark magic?” said Ridmark.

  “I do,” said Kalussa, “but I’m afraid I’m not very skilled with them. I cannot sense anything with the spells unless it is only a few yards away.”

  Not everyone, Ridmark reflected, was the Keeper of Andomhaim.

  He drew Oathshield and turned in a circle, seeking for foes as the soulblade glowed with white fire.

  The rippling caught his eye.

  In the distance, the valleys and the hills flickered with heat, since the rocks had been in the sun all day. But some of the ripples stood out and appeared to be coming closer.

  “Urvaalgs,” said Ridmark, cold certainty settling over him.

  Kalussa gasped. “Urvaalgs?”

  Ridmark glanced at her. “You know the creatures?”

  He looked back at the patterns of approaching ripples. Five of them, he thought. Maybe six. That would be hard. If Calliande had been with him, they could have disposed of all six urvaalgs in short order. He wasn’t sure how useful Kalussa’s magic would be in the fight. Ridmark had seen Antenora burn urvaalgs to cinders, but he doubted Kalussa had Antenora’s mastery of elemental flame.

  “Then we are doomed,” said Kalussa in a flat voice. “It takes a group of Arcanius Knights to fight even a few urvaalgs. The two of us cannot fight five urvaalgs at once and prevail.”

  “Oh, yes, we can,” said Ridmark. He drove the bamboo staff into the ground and took Oathshield in both hands, calling on the soulblade to fill him with strength and speed. “Stay behind me. If you can kill one of the urvaalgs with your magic, well and good. Otherwise, I would appreciate it if you could keep the creatures from surrounding me.”

  “What are you doing?” said Kalussa. “We must run!”

  Ridmark took a deep breath and strode forward, watching the ripples of the unseen urvaalgs. Likely the creatures did not think he was any threat. Urvaalgs were more cunning than normal beasts, and the ones he had fought in Andomhaim sometimes had the wit to avoid Swordbearers.

  These urvaalgs, though, had likely never encountered a Swordbearer before.

  Hopefully, Ridmark could use that to his advantage.

  The blurs started to converge on him, and Ridmark broke into a sprint.

  Oathshield’s magic surged through him and drove him onward, giving him tremendous speed, and Ridmark swung the soulblade. All his strength and speed drove the weapon, and the blade slammed into something unseen with a shock.

  The urvaalg became visible as it died, a twisted creature that looked like some ghastly hybrid of ape and rabid wolf, its body covered in lank, greasy fur, its claws like daggers, its fangs a row of yellow knives in its bulging jaw. Ridmark’s blow had opened its skull, and the creature fell dead to the ground as Oathshield’s white fire burned through the wound. He did not hesitate but struck again at once, ripping his soulblade through another unseen urvaalg. The creature appeared and fell dead, the black slime of its blood leaking onto the stony ground.

  Then the other four urvaalgs abandoned their stealth and became visible, leaping at Ridmark, howling their horrible, metallic battle cries.

  He dodged, sweeping Oathshield before him, and opened the chest of another urvaalg. The creature fell dead at his feet, but Ridmark had no choice but to retreat, trying to stay out of the reach of the urvaalgs’ snapping jaws and slashing claws. Without his soulblade, the urvaalgs would have overwhelmed him. Even with his soulblade, he barely kept ahead of them, and the urvaalgs did not give him an opening to strike.

  Kalussa shouted, and sudden heat washed across Ridmark’s face, as intense as the heat radiating from a blacksmith’s forge. A cone of fire washed across the urvaalgs, setting their fur ablaze. The creatures stumbled, howling their rage, and Ridmark seized the opportunity and struck. Oathshield split the skull of the nearest urvaalg in two, and the creature toppled. The two survivors attacked, but Ridmark had an easier time fighting two urvaalgs instead of three. He dodged a sweep of claws and struck, wounding the urvaalg on his left. The creature reared back with a brassy scream, and Ridmark whirled and killed the urvaalg on his right.

  The urvaalg on his left recovered, but Ridmark was faster, sinking Oathshield between its ribs and into its black heart. The creature shuddered, slid back, and collapsed to the ground.

  Ridmark wrenched Oathshield free of its carcass, the white fire on the sword burning away the black slime of the urvaalgs’ blood. Had it always been this hard to catch his breath after a fight? God and the saints, he was getting old.

  “That was good timing,” he said, wiping sweat from his eyes as he turned back to Kalussa.

  She stared at him, green eyes wide. Ridmark glanced over his shoulder, wondering if more urvaalgs or something worse had appeared, and then he realized she was staring at him.

  “What is it?” said Ridmark.

  “You killed them,” said Kalussa, her voice shaking a little. “You killed them all. Six urvaalgs, and you slew them alone.”

  “No, I didn’t,” said Ridmark. “You helped.”

  “Six urvaalgs!” said Kalussa, astonished. “I have never heard of such a feat of arms. No one in Owyllain has ever heard of such a feat of arms! Are all the Swordbearers of Andomhaim as puissant as you, Ridmark Arban?”

  Ridmark shrugged. “Some are, some are not.” He looked at the dead urvaalgs, sheathed Oathshield, and retrieved his staff. “Let’s not linger here. Other scavengers might come.”

  Kalussa recovered her poise and nodded. “Yes. Urvaalgs are drawn to dar
k magic like maggots to carrion, and Archaelon’s filthy necromancy must have summoned them. Let us continue on.”

  ###

  They walked for another hour and a half, but by then it was dark, and they had no choice but to stop, lest they blunder uselessly around the hills. For that matter, Ridmark had no wish to traverse the rough terrain at night. It would be all too easy to put a foot down wrong and break an ankle, or worse, a neck.

  Ridmark chose a campsite at the base of one of the rocky hills. Several boulders stood in a loose horseshoe shape there, and the rocks would shield Ridmark and Kalussa from sight. As the sun disappeared and only two of the thirteen moons appeared overhead, it got cold, far colder than Ridmark would have expected.

  “A pity there’s nothing to burn for a fire,” said Ridmark.

  “Ah.” Even in the gloom, he saw the flash of Kalussa’s smile. “Fortunately, Lord Ridmark, we have no need of fuel.” She rolled her hand with more flourish than was necessary as she cast the spell, and flames leaped from the ground, dancing over the rocks. The fire radiated a comfortable heat. “That should last us for most of the night, I think, so long as I tend it every so often.”

  Ridmark nodded. “Just as well. One of us will need to keep watch.”

  “After we eat, I think,” said Kalussa. “It has been a long and trying day.”

  “Agreed.” Ridmark sat down against one of the boulders with a sigh, putting his pack and waterskins next to him. His joints hadn’t ached so much as the end of the day ten years ago, or even five. “I’ll eat, and then take the first watch.”

  He expected Kalussa to sit on the other side of the fire, but to his surprise, she sat next to him. Right next to him, in fact, so close that her arm was touching his. He almost stood up and moved away, but his knees hurt, and he was tired and sitting felt pleasant. After he ate and drank, he would get up to go on watch.

  “Lord Ridmark,” said Kalussa. She hesitated, the fire throwing shifting shadows across her face.

  “Lady Kalussa,” said Ridmark.

  “You did save my life,” said Kalussa. She took a deep breath. “Thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome,” said Ridmark. “I wouldn’t have left anyone as a captive of a necromancer like Archaelon, not if I could avoid it.”

  “You are a great warrior,” said Kalussa.

  “That’s very kind,” said Ridmark.

  “No, it isn’t.” The white smile flashed over her face, her green eyes glinting in the firelight. “Alas, I have never had much of a gift for flattery. But I have spent all my life around warriors. I fear Owyllain has been at war with its enemies and with itself my entire life. And never have I seen a warrior like you, Shield Knight. I would be glad to help you in your task.”

  “Thank you,” said Ridmark.

  “In any way that I can.”

  Ridmark nodded.

  She smiled at him and then put her left hand on his right knee.

  “In any way that I can,” repeated Kalussa.

  Suddenly he realized the point she was trying to make.

  “Lady Kalussa,” said Ridmark, “that isn’t…”

  Before he could finish the sentence, she leaned closer and kissed him hard. For a moment shock froze Ridmark’s reactions. But her lips were soft and warm, and he felt himself responding to the kiss, her tongue brushing his…

  Then his reason reasserted itself, and he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away.

  “Stop,” he said. “Stop that!”

  Kalussa smiled at him. “Do you not find me pleasing to the eye, Lord Ridmark?”

  He did, as it happened.

  “Whether I do or not is of no consequence,” said Ridmark. The kiss had addled his wits. It had also set a fire in his blood. “I am married.”

  “But it has been a long time,” murmured Kalussa, “since you have enjoyed a woman’s touch, has it not?”

  “And how could you possibly know that?” said Ridmark with irritation. Too late he realized that his answer conceded the point.

  “I can tell,” said Kalussa. “You have a tension to you, like a spring in a clock wound too tight. You have hungry eyes.” Her smile didn’t waver. “Would you not wish to ease that hunger? I find you desirable.”

  “You only met me today,” said Ridmark. “We are both in terrible danger. We only know a little about each other. And, most importantly of all, I am married. I will not dishonor you, my wife, and myself by making you my mistress.”

  “Mistress?” said Kalussa. “Who said anything about a mistress? I wish to become your concubine.”

  “My what?” said Ridmark.

  Kalussa frowned, and then her eyes widened. “Oh! I understand now. You must not have the custom in your land.”

  Suddenly his earlier musings about the laws and customs of Owyllain seemed much more relevant.

  “For God’s sake, explain,” said Ridmark. In Andomhaim, while it wasn’t approved for a nobleman to have a mistress or two, it wasn’t uncommon. There had been women who had hinted they would be happy to spend time alone with Ridmark, but it had been easy for him to make excuses without causing offense.

  But now he was alone with Kalussa, he needed her help, and she was offering herself to him.

  It troubled him how hard it was to refuse her.

  “The realm of the Nine Cities has known war for many years,” said Kalussa. “Even before Kothlaric defeated the Sovereign, we had numerous wars. Many men died in battle, and soon there were far more women than men in the realm. The scriptures say that a man can have but one wife, but with so many more women than men…”

  “Some of them would rather be concubines than childless,” said Ridmark. The orcs of the three baptized kingdoms had something of the same custom. They had accepted baptism, but they continued their old practices of polygamy, partly from preference, and partly because so many of their men died in battle. The orcish women of Rhaluusk, Khaluusk, and Mhorluusk would prefer to be a second or a third wife as opposed to having no children at all.

  Evidently, many of the women of Owyllain thought the same.

  “Yes,” said Kalussa. “You see? The laws of Owyllain permit it, and we would have rights and duties to each other. And it would be a mercy to your wife, would it not? If she has wearied of sharing your bed, then another would be glad to take you in her arms. Your wife could remain in charge of your household, while I remain at your side to give you more children. And you are a great warrior. I might have only known you a day, but I can see that at once. Any woman of Owyllain would be glad to be your wife or concubine.” She smiled a little. “Perhaps you think me desperately wanton, but I am not. I think rather that God has given both of us an opportunity.”

  Neither of them spoke for a long time.

  “Forgive me,” said Ridmark, the pulse throbbing in his temples, “but I cannot do as you wish. Those may be the laws and customs of Owyllain, but they are not mine. I swore an oath before God and men to remain faithful to my wife until death, and I intend to keep it. You are right. I do find you pleasing to the eye, and I admire your bravery. Were circumstances different, perhaps I could think more on what you have asked of me. But they are not, and I cannot betray my wife like this. I am sorry.”

  Her smile vanished, and she stared at him for a moment. Perhaps she would fly into a fury. Some men and women did not take rejection well, and he knew some women developed a lasting hatred for men who had passed them over. Here, in this dangerous land, that could be disastrous.

  Kalussa rose, straightened up, and offered a deep bow to him. Then she stepped back and sat down further away from him.

  “Then you are a noble man as well as a brave one, Ridmark Arban,” she said.

  “I am sorry,” said Ridmark. “I did not wish to offend you, but I cannot act otherwise.”

  To his surprise, she smiled. “Do you know, I am not offended? I think I would be, but…usually, I have no suitors, but that is because my father wishes me to serve as a Sister of the Order, so no man of A
enesium will approach me for fear of his displeasure. But you do not care what Hektor Pendragon thinks about anything. Why should you, when you have never met him? You instead follow the laws of God and your own conscience. A fine thing, I think...if a rare one.”

  “Thank you,” said Ridmark. “I do not wish to be your enemy, especially since there are so many foes around us.”

  “Yes,” said Kalussa. She sighed. “I suppose I should have broached the topic later. But sometimes if a thing is not done at once, it is never done at all.” She offered him a sad smile. “But I am sorry that your wife has ceased to love you.”

  Ridmark frowned. “She hasn’t.”

  “Then why has she stopped sharing your bed?”

  “Because she has been sick,” said Ridmark. He didn’t want to talk about the last year with this bold girl, but to his surprise, he found himself speaking of it. He didn’t want to talk about it, but maybe he needed to speak of it. “About…eleven months ago, now, she was with child. She has been pregnant before, and we thought we knew what to expect. But the pregnancy went bad, and she spent months confined to her bed. The child came early. A daughter. We named her Joanna. She…barely lived three days. My wife has powerful healing magic, and she tried again and again to save Joanna. Between the labor and her efforts, I don’t think she slept for more than a week.”

  “But the child died,” said Kalussa, her voice soft.

  “Yes.” Ridmark remembered those awful days as if they had happened yesterday. “There is no grief quite like losing a child. It was difficult for me, but it was much, much harder for Calliande. I didn’t think anything could ever break her, but this did. For weeks, she refused to leave her room, refused to eat, and she was so sick. I feared that she would starve to death, or that in her grief she might slay herself.” He sighed and rubbed his face. He felt tired, tired, tired, and he had felt that way for some time now. “I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. When we went to High King Arandar’s court this morning, it was the first time she had left our domus in months. And now…this.”