Shadow of the Knight

by Matt Heppe

  “After I see them, can I come to town?” she asked. He frowned at the request. Ayja knew Cam didn’t like her going to town. “Fifteen years, Cam. The queen’s men aren’t looking here, and I want to go to town.”

  “Speak like a commoner,” he said. “Don’t put on airs.”

  “I know. It’s your fault for bringing me up speaking High Saladoran.”

  “Just be careful. Take your spear.”

  “I broke it yesterday,” she said.

  “Take mine then.”

  “Won’t you need it? Are you going to warn the other hillfolk?”

  “I’ll take my axe.”

  Ayja knew immediately which axe he was talking about. It wasn’t a wood cutting axe, but his long-bladed Idorian axe. The axe that had felled the bandit lord and his men.

  “Be careful, Cam,” Ayja said.

  Cam laughed. “You’re telling me to be careful? I can handle myself.”

  “I have my craft.”

  “Don’t worry about me. And don’t let folks see your magic.” He held up his hand to stop any further objection. “Finish eating and hurry. And wear a dress if you’re going to town. I don’t want folks there thinking you’re odd.”

  “Cam—“

  He held up his hand. “Do it.”

  “I never wear dresses. They’re so—”

  “Don’t fight, Ayja. Just do as I say.”

  “Will I ever be free not to do as you say?”

  “When you’re a Princess of Salador. No, wait, not even then.”

  “You’re not funny.”

  He shooed her away. “Hurry over to Mellor’s. Daylight is burning.”

  Ayja ran upstairs, threw off her tunic and trousers, and pulled her shift and brown linen kirtle over her head. She only had one other dress and doubted that one still fit. She hadn’t worn it in ages. Ayja pulled her loose braid free as she walked downstairs.

  “Lace me up, please,” she said to Cam as she approached the table. She ate more of her bread as he quickly laced the back of her dress.

  “You want your hair braided?” Cam asked.

  She laughed. “The great Champion Nidon deigns dress my hair.”

  “You want my help, or not?”

  She smiled. “Yes, thank you.”

  He brushed out her hair and deftly braided it. “Just like your mother wore it.”

  Ayja didn’t say anything. He said the same thing every time he fixed her hair. He’d done it ever since she was a little girl. She knew Cam had loved her mother. She knew how much he had given up to protect her for the past fifteen years.

  She patted him on the arm and headed for the door. “Take my spear,” Cam said.

  “I will,” she said as she slipped on her low boots and tied them. She checked that she had her belt purse at her waist and then took Cam’s spear from where it stood by the door. Drawing the door open, she marched out into the morning light. The forest was silent and she immediately worried that something might be lurking nearby. It was an alien feeling. The mountain had always felt safe to her.

  She tapped into her elementar strength and felt her fingers tingle. All around her the elemental strands glowed, waiting for her to strum them. She refrained, though. Never show your magic. It was one of the first rules Cam had ever taught her. And despite her desire to let her friends see what she could do, she had always kept it from them.

  Not now. If she saw one of the living dead, she would not wait a moment. Fire. It will feel my fire.

  “You see something?” Cam asked from behind her.

  She shook her head. “Nothing here.”

  He handed her a water gourd with a leather shoulder strap. “It’ll be a warm day.”

  She took it and put it over her head. “Thank you. I’ll see you in town later.” Ayja strode across the yard. It would be a warm day but not terribly so. The skies were clear—again. The dry summer didn’t bode well for their beans. When she and Cam had built the fishpond a few years ago, they had made a sluice to water their garden; unfortunately, the water couldn’t reach their entire field. She’d open the sluice later.

  Using her spear as a staff, she strode down the path towards Mellor’s family farm. She couldn’t help but think about the creature she’d fought the previous day. Monster. There was no better word for it, although it had certainly been a real, living man at some time.

  Cam had told her of Akinos and the creatures he had created with the Orb of Creation. There were the giant capcaun and their offspring, the brutish urias. Cam said that one of the urias had come closer to killing him than anyone except the varcolac champion he’d fought the day he’d saved Ayja as a baby.

  Never had Cam mentioned any creature like this half dead thing. Had she imagined it? Had she just fought some raving, starving madman?

  It couldn’t be. She shook off a chill as she thought about the smell of death. His skin—his eyes, there could be no doubt that the creature was not natural.

  It certainly wasn’t one of the silver-skinned eternals. Cam said that her father had become one of them, but none of it seemed real to her. Everyone knew the tale of how Hadde of Landomere had killed Akinos. Some said it was Cam, back when he was Champion Nidon. He’d denied it a hundred times. It was her mother, Hadde, who had saved the world from the Wasting.

  It was all so outrageous. Old people talked about the Wasting, but nobody under twenty had lived it. Who could believe in a time with no children when there were children everywhere now? It was harder to believe Cam’s tales of Akinos, eternals, capcaun, and varcolac, and a father who was prince of Salador and a mother who had saved the world.

  It was all true, though. She knew the truth of it in her own elementar powers. She was an elementar and the queen wanted her dead because of it. Queen Ilana feared her, a humble hill-girl living in a forgotten corner of Salador.

  And she knew it was true because she believed Cam. She had no doubt he was the famous Nidon. It showed in his bearing, his intensity, and his skill. There was more though. When she looked at his face, she saw the most forthright, devoted father she could imagine.

  He was her father, in truth. She might call him Cam, and tell other people that he was her uncle, but he was her father. Ayja knew she’d given him grief over the past few years. It was hard living in the hills, kept away from a wider world. At seventeen now, she knew what he’d done for her.

  A wave of fear passed over her. She knew Cam was a great warrior, even now, at forty-three, he trained every single day. She hoped he’d taken her warning seriously.

  Ayja picked up her pace. She’d check on Mellor and then run back to make certain Cam was safe.

  Nedden will be home. He ran off to see Leva. They’ll certainly be in trouble! She smiled at the thought. Her two friends would have to get married now. Ayja crested a small rise and saw her friend’s farm nestled in a small valley.

  She stopped and stared. Something was wrong.

  The front door was open, and the shutters to some of the windows were thrown wide. Not just open, but broken. There were no sheep or goats in the pasture. She looked to the barn. The front door was open, and something lay in the dirt there. A sheep. Dead.

  Ayja glanced around—fearful that someone, or something, might be lurking nearby. She crouched behind a large stone, glad that she had worn her plain brown dress instead of her fancy red one.

  She hid and watched for a hundred heartbeats. Nothing moved at the farm below. The desire to run down and check on her friends tore at her. But what would she find? If some attack had occurred, it was over now.

  It couldn’t be bandits. They would have to have come through town first. Someone would have sent up warning if that had happened. Another of those creatures? She kept watching, hoping for signs of life, until she could bear it no longer.

  She had to look. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe they were alive and busy in the barn or inside their home. She was an elementar. She had her spear. And these were her friends. She owed it to them.

  Ayja l
eft the path and cut through the woods. It was a steep descent, and she used the element of air to leap down the rock faces. Off the path, she wasn’t concerned with being spotted from the farm.

  Crouching low, Ayja crept towards the sheep pasture behind the barn. It was empty, but it was possible they had been taken to a higher pasture.

  Except for the dead one.

  The farm was still silent. Taking a middle guard with her spear, Ayja crept to the corner of the barn and peeked around the corner. The sheep lay sprawled on the ground, its neck a bloody ruin. Crouched low and ready to fight, Ayja stepped closer to the open door. Flies buzzed around the sheep’s neck. The blood wasn’t completely dry. The attack hadn’t happened too long ago.

  Sunlight streamed into the barn, revealing a grisly scene of death. Cows, sheep, goats—all had been slain, and all in the same manner—their necks brutally torn out. Ayja gagged at the overwhelming smell of blood and backed away without taking a step inside.

  She had to check the house, although she dreaded what she would see there. The house wasn’t as large as the one she shared with Cam, even though the family was much larger. It was only a single story, although there was a half loft where the youngest two children slept. On the main floor was a great room, where the older children slept, a storage room, and a room the parents shared.

  Ayja went to the open front door, keeping well clear lest one of the monsters leapt out at her. From outside she saw an overturned table and broken crockery. Holding her spear in her right hand, she raised her left and, reaching into the aether, plucked threads of fire. Her hand tingled with power, but she kept the flames at bay.

  She stepped through the door. The main room was a shambles. It appeared nothing was unbroken. Careful not to step on anything, or to make a noise, Ayja crept across the room to the beds where Nedden’s younger sisters slept. The quilts were thrown on the floor. When Ayja knelt to look closer she saw the blood and her heart sank.

  Where are the girls? The animals were left where they died.

  Nedden’s bed was untouched. He wasn’t here when it happened. She thought back to the monster she’d fought at Hunter’s Cave. It couldn’t have been him, could it? The monster had looked nothing like her friend.

  Ayja turned to the parents’ room. The door was open. As quietly as she could, she crept to the doorway. There’d been a fight here as well. There was blood on the bed. On the floor she saw an axe, its blade blood-covered. Was it Mellor’s or did it belong to an attacker?

  The storage room was open but untouched. It held mostly foodstuffs, but what bandit would ignore it? They weren’t here to loot. The thought sent a wave of dread through her.

  Ayja was about to leave when she saw the ladder to the loft. The children—the two smallest slept up there, she knew. The loft wasn’t high, but it was high enough she couldn’t see in without climbing the ladder. She couldn’t take her spear up the ladder, and using it in the loft wouldn’t have worked anyway. Ayja propped it against the wall and climbed.

  Before looking over the edge, she paused and listened. She heard the hum of flies—a lot of them. Did the creatures, with their dead flesh attract them? A fly buzzed by her face. She raised herself another rung and found herself staring into dead eyes.

  Ayja shouted and leapt from the ladder. She fell hard and stumbled, calling fire with her hands as she regained her balance. Crouching, she stared up at the loft, her vision deep in the aether, ready to draw arcane power.

  After a moment she stood taller and let the flames dissipate. The eyes hadn’t belonged to the living dead. They’d belonged to Nedden’s little brother. Truly dead. There’d been another body behind him.

  She hadn’t seen anyone else but hadn’t gotten much of a look. Were the parents and older children stuffed up there as well?

  The room was silent but for the drone of the flies. Ayja let her vision leave the aether.

  There was only one way to know. She went to the ladder and straightened it. She didn’t want to climb it but had no choice. She had to know. Rung by rung she pulled herself upwards. She paused for a breath before she looked.

  The two children were there, both killed in the same manner as the animals. The rest of the family was not to be seen. Ayja hastily descended, took her spear, and went to the front door where she took several deep breaths.

  She had to find Cam. One monster couldn’t have done all this. Or could it? The beast had been savagely strong. One, or more, it didn’t matter. The attack had happened last night, after she’d killed the other creature. There had to be at least one more. Ayja ran for the trail and then stopped, cursing her dress. She lifted the front hem and stuffed it through her belt, shortening it by half.

  Modesty be damned, she ran freer now. She had to find Cam.

  Ayja’s feet flew over the ground as she ran up the trail towards home. She was a good runner, but it was still a long run, and sweat drenched her by the time she made it. She paused and took a few deep breaths as she looked over their farmstead. The sheep were in the pasture. The chickens in the yard.

  “Cam?” she called out. “Are you here?”

  She went to the door and pulled it open. All was in order inside. “Cam?”

  She let out a long breath. He’d already departed. What would she do if Cam were taken from her? He was her only family in the world. She’d find him in town, she knew, or on the trail there.

  Past their house, she turned left toward the town instead of right to Mellor’s farm. The first part of the path was very steep. Ayja leapt from ledge to ledge, reaching into the aether and twisting the threads of air to her will. Using elemental magic to jump was tiring, but using it to ease a landing was much easier. She nearly flew down the mountainside.

  She slowed as she approached the town. Mostly out of relief that Cam must be safe there. Secondly for fear that she might be seen. Despite the danger of the monsters, Cam would be furious if she revealed herself as an elementar.

  The town was just a gathering of farms at the base of the valley. It was as high as one could live and still have a decent sized farm and homes built close to one another. There was only one main street and no inn, although the general goods store had rooms they would let out. There was a smith and the water mill at the falls. Shallow draft boats could tie up at the dock—it was as far into the mountains as any boat could manage.

  There was a train of mules in front of the general store. Ayja knew the man loading them at the rail. He saw her and called out, waving her over.

  “I can’t stay, Fren,” she said. “I have to find Cam.”

  The trader looked her up and down. “Did you run all the way here? Is there something wrong?”

  “Yes, there is. Have you seen Cam?”

  “I saw him with a group of men by the sheriff’s house on the way in. Was just going to go over. By the way,” he said, furtively glancing over his shoulder towards the store, “do you have any more of the earthenware you sold me? I was hoping I’d see you.”

  “No, not now. I haven’t made any in a while.” Ayja had once sold him pottery she’d made and he was always asking for more. Her bowls and plates were lighter and stronger than anyone else could make, and she made good coin selling them. Cam had put an end to it, knowing that the only reason her work was so good was the elemental magic she manipulated.

  “I have to run. We’ll talk later,” she said as she backed away from him.

  “I see your game!” he said with a smile. He made the money sign with his fingers “We’ll talk soon.” She’s just turned away from him when he called out, “Hey! Wait just a moment.”

  Ayja turned at his tone—much more serious than before. He waved her closer. “Be wary,” Fren said. “I’ve just come up the valley and people are talking about strange things afoot in the lowlands. Murders and such. Bad business and getting worse.” He frowned. “By the look on your face, I’d say you already knew.”

  “What do they say about the murders?” Ayja asked. “Anything… strange.” />
  “You’ve heard. Ugly business…vicious. You stay close to Cam, and stay safe.”

  Ayja nodded before turning and running. As Fren had said, there were a half dozen men talking near the door to the sheriff’s house. The sheriff, an old man-at-arms, was the only authority within a two-day journey.

  Cam stood almost a head taller than the next tallest man. He wore his sword at his waist with his buckler dangling from the hilt. He’d left his big axe at home, Ayja supposed. Timon, the sheriff, wore an arming sword at his waist, but he always did. None of the other men, the smith, the miller, and two farmers, were armed.

  Cam spotted her approach and went right to her. “What’s wrong? What did you see?”

  “Mellor’s farm was attacked,” she said after a deep breath.

  Men uttered oaths and gathered closer.

  “What did you find?” Cam asked.

  “The two youngest children were killed. The rest of the family is missing. There was blood.”

  Everyone talked at once. Ayja couldn’t make out a word.

  “Silence!” Cam commanded. His voice cut through all of the others, and they immediately obeyed. He put his hand on Ayja’s shoulder. “What else did you see?”

  “The animals were all killed. The same way as the mountain goat. The children the same.” She glanced at the circle of men and then turned back to Cam. “Did you tell them?”

  “I did.”

  “I’m calling up the militia,” Timon said. “Every man is to arm himself. Homes are to be secured. I want to see Mellor’s farm, and I want to scour the hills.”

  The men around him nodded. “We’ll ring the alarm and muster immediately. Ulrod, you have a horse,” Timon said to one of the farmers, “I want you to ride to Sir Vainor’s manor. I’ll write out a message for you.”

  “My family—”

  “I’ll watch them for you.”

  “Ayja and I will go into the hills and warn the other families,” Cam said. “I’ve already warned some.”

  “Fren the Tinker says that there’ve been murders in the lowlands,” Ayja said.

  “I saw him come in,” Timon said. “I’ll speak with him. Ayja, is what Cam said about this man you killed true? It was some half-dead thing?”