Koa only chortled. “Define helpless. I could not safely carry you through the shadow lands during sunlit hours, lady, but I am hardly helpless. I am still untouchable by any standards, and even in daylight, there is always a shadow to be found I can exploit. ’Tis just not safe to risk your life when I am weary, and hampered by daylight, ’tis all.”
“I thank you for your concern,” she told him. “Just….warn me next time you intend to wager my collar to earn coin,” she complained somberly.
“There was no chance the man would have won, lady. For one, even without my….gifts, the man simply wasn’t that good. I could have bested him bare-handed. I didn’t even truly need my staff.”
Before having watched him best five freemen, and one of their huge bully-boys when he entered that contest at the local inn, she would have called him a boastful lackwit at first. Until his spinning shaft took down every man that stood before him, or even behind him. It was as if he knew their moves before they did, and simply knew to be there to prevent them.
“Well, I daresay they might be less quick to challenge a vagabond anytime soon,” she remarked.
“I doubt it. Such men rarely learn until the truth of a matter is shoved into their faces,” he told her.
“You are a strange man, Sir Koa,” she told him.
“So I have been told.”
“I did not mean offense,” she said quickly as his tone changed.
“Nor did I take it from you, lady,” he said, glancing behind him.
“What is it?”
“I thought….. For a moment I sensed someone following. Only….they aren’t there any longer.”
“One of those slavers,” she asked uneasily.
“Nay. None of that lot is coming. Nay, this was someone else. Someone….farther away, and yet, strangely close. I could sense them all but bearing down on us for a moment. Then….nothing. Curious,” he murmured at the end. “Very curious.”
“Franks,” she asked, uneasily, glancing around the high grass.
“You need not fear the men of the plains. They are friends, and my commander oft winters among them at times when we are not engaged.”
“Oh.”
“I have said I shall see you safely home, lady,” he told her. “You may consider it a truth. For I have never failed in my vows, and I shall not start now.”
“Sir Koa….. If you can do the things you do…..? Why do you not just slay your enemies at will. I vow, even the assassins guild could not manage half so well as you.”
“Lady,” he frowned darkly now. “’Twould not be honorable. I’m a warrior. Not a murderer.”
She stared at him, hard, then nodded. “I am beyond grateful that you are, sir. I am beyond fortunate that your friend found you, and showed you an honorable path,” she said, having heard much of his tale by then. Or, as much of it as he consented to share.
She already guessed there was much he did not share. For one, she noted he seemed to leave his own heart and feelings out of his words, even when talking about his meeting, and sparing her dear, lost Lia.
“Truly,” he agreed. “Even I am loathe to think of what might have become of me had I not met Sir Jengus.”
“He sounds like a good man,” she allowed. “Tell me. What of Eric? Do you think he is as honorable a man?”
“He and I have met but a few times over the years. Usually as he is speaking to my friend. He has always struck me as an honorable, and yet driven man. I believe he has long suffered while fretting over his family’s fate, unknown to him until recently. Learning it, however, has only increased his determination to put an end to Galdyn’s threat.”
“And I may be bringing him his greatest weapon yet,” she realized, and looked down at the soft bundle she carried.
“Whilst even I can hardly judge his heart, lady,” he told her. “Lord Ericson does not strike me as the sort to use a babe as a weapon of any sort. Most especially his own kindred.”
“Even if ’twere his enemy’s flesh?”
“Ah, but is the babe not also your own? And thus, his own?”
“You are a curious man for a mercenary warrior, Sir Koa. Still, I appreciate your words all the same,” she admitted as she juggled her child, making him smile in delight as she bounced him.
Stopping, Koa looked around, and eyed the area before nodding. “We shall stop here and rest. At dusk, I shall carry you on to Lord Eric’s encampment.”
“We could walk….”
“We are still far from the Spine, lady, and ’tis little use of risking the steps, or needlessly wearying yourself when you’ve much before you as yet. Rest. I will keep watch, and ensure you are not disturbed.”
Helena, who was admittedly weary after years of uncertainty and abuse, as well as by their strange flight through the night, did not argue further. She stretched out on the cloak he used to fashion a bed for her, and watched as he dropped the waterskin near her even as he knelt in the high grass for a moment, seeming to summon the very shadows around them in the waist high, thick grasses to gird him a moment before standing up again. When he did, he was once more clad in his black, leathern armor, holding a sword rather than a staff.
Sheathing the weapon as he rose, he ignored the child’s frank stare, and nodded at her. “Rest, lady. I shall be close. None shall harm you.”
And he walked out into the grass to stand as a silent sentry as if carved from stone.
She remembered old wife’s tales, and fairy tales of his kind, and marveled that anyone had ever managed to face them and live. Yet she recalled there were tales where his kind were fought, and slain, but she could not imagine how just then. Still, rather than fierce, frightening demons just then, all she saw was a sad, lonely man that seemed unable or unwilling to open his own heart.
That, she felt, was the true tragedy.
Especially for a man she felt was obviously trying so hard to be a good and honorable man.
Chapter 7
It was just after dark when Harlock appeared outside the border village that had been recently restored after what had been just one in a series of attacks from the look of the area. Yet people always returned to such places, and always risked death to keep certain towns, and commerce going. Not that he cared, or complained. As a guild elder, his fortune was tied up in the stubbornness of such men.
Still….
“Why would he come here,” he demanded of the shadow as he eyed the small township with disdain as they approached it on foot.
“He is not here any longer.”
“Then where is he,” he scowled.
“Not far now. But the path is still vague. I was waiting for it to age, so I could sense its ending without doubts. For the closer we travel in his wake, the more certain of his destination I am. But first, I must let the next leap set to give us a true destination.”
“Bah! More delays!”
“We shall be upon them soon enough. I am sensing him clearer than ever now. We are close. Very close.”
“This shadow must be a fool to travel so carelessly. Leaping blindly hither and yon,” Harlock snorted as he walked toward the town. “Attend me. I shall have a goblet of spiced wine while we wait for you to focus on our prey. Best you not delay us, though. I wish to depart the moment you have a set goal again,” he instructed.
“Of course,” the gaunt shade intoned.
Harlock heard the bitterness in the tone. The contempt. He didn’t care. He controlled the shade, and he had little intention of letting him go anytime soon. Not when he was so useful in dealing with his own enemies. Still, if this ancient shadow thought their younger prey was potentially more powerful, mayhap he would be adding a new servant to his ranks soon. If not, it would only serve him well to be known as a shade-killer.
It would even ease the priestly contingent he guessed were already conspiring against him after seeing his servant.
“Come,” he spat, and ignored a group of sullen, battered men near one inn as he walked past them toward the local tavern
.
X
“M-Mother,” Lia gasped, coming out of the tent even as men gave a sudden shout, and she walked out to find Koa and Jengus leading an older woman toward her as Eric emerged behind her.
“Aye,” Eric smiled, though his eyes were fixed on the young babe in her arms. “But who did you bring with you, mother,” he asked as he went to greet her, kissing her on the cheek as the woman’s green eyes shone with tears.
“Your brother, Eric. I named him Douglas,” she told him simply.
He studied the small babe who looked owlishly at him, and nodded. Then he turned to his men, and exclaimed, “Lads! Truly we are blessed. First my sister is restored, and now our queen-mother!”
The men cheered as Helena only then realized she knew the face of a young, blonde slave that had just appeared as she approached with slumped shoulders, and a bowed head.
“You….took Princess Miranda,” she exclaimed.
“Our friends took the entire royal family,” Eric chortled as Lia hugged her mother, and cooed over the child with her. “Yet I confess that even I had my doubts when Sir Koa declared he could find, and restore you,” he said, nodding to the young mercenary. “I vow, I shall not be doubting you again,” he declared.
“So, then,” Jengus murmured. “All we need do is wait on Hastings’ response to your demands,” he remarked.
“We won’t wait long,” Koa said, turning to stare past the glare of the nearby cook fires around the camp.
“Koa,” Lia asked.
“Something…..comes,” he said, turning to face the western horizon beyond the canyon walls.
“You mean someone….?”
“Something,” he cut Jengus off. Then he looked around, and said, “When it arrives, do nothing,” he told Eric and Jengus both as their men stirred uneasily as his tone sobered more than usual. Which was telling for him. “Leave this to me.”
“What is it, lad,” Eric demanded of him.
“Something I have long been curious about,” he said honestly as the night suddenly chilled around him, and something darker than dark swirled in the air. “Apparently,” he said as two figures seemed to step right out of the air, “There are yet other shadows walking this plane.”
The older man at that gaunt shadow’s side laughed as his eyes focused on them, and drawled, “Well, this is convenient. All our prey gathered together in one place. How delightful,” he declared, dismissing the warriors around him without hesitation.
Jengus and Eric were not the only ones that reached for steel as the mage sniggered.
“Nay,” a voice like thunder bellowed, and every man there froze as Koa flowed between them and the tall shadow who had started to react to their movements. “Nay, brother,” he said to the gaunt shadow. “You do not face them. You face me.”
“Take his name, Mockton,” Harlock hissed imperiously. “Take his name, and give me his spirit!”
The tall shadow stepped forward, eyeing the slightly shorter mercenary who stared at him with glittering black orbs. He looked down on him with equally black orbs, seeing beyond flesh, and sensing all about the young shade that stood before him.
“Impossible,” the growling, gravelly tone exploded even as he recoiled from Koa as if flung back by unseen hands. “Impossible!”
Even as he spoke, Koa smiled. It was not a warm smile.
“Foolish mage,” he drawled, one eye on the giant. The other on the mage. “You cannot name the unnamed.”
The giant tensed and recoiled again. “It is! It is! Prophecy,” he hissed, as if staring into the face of God.
“Tripe,” Harlock spat. “Just destroy the thing if you cannot control it. You are but a weapon. A tool. Break his bond, and send him back to the shadows if you cannot name it. I can always summon him later!”
Koa smirked again.
“You cannot break a bond that does not exist,” he said, and still stood unyieldingly before the pair as the men behind and around them stared uneasily at the confrontation every one of them sensed was being fought on levels they could not even comprehend.
“Unnamed. Unbound. Prophecy,” the other shadow hissed again.
“Your prophecy means naught,” Harlock snarled at him. “Strike the cur down, and send it away!”
“You cannot unbind the unbound,” Mocton murmured, staring only at Koa. “As you cannot name the unnamable.”
“Tell me of this prophecy,” Koa urged as he stepped closer to him, his own dark eyes fearless.
“A warning, and a blessing,” Mocton told him as Harlock only scowled all the more. “Among our kindred, ’tis said the first shadow brought a prophecy out of the otherworld with him. The words themselves are lost, but their essence remains in the heart of every true shadow. In short, brother,” Mocton now called him, “’Tis said that when the unnamed stands unbound upon this world, striking down the last shade bound by man, then shadows shall be free to return to their own, or live as true men.”
“Us? I….could be a true man,” he exclaimed.
“Koa,” Lia declared suddenly from nearby. “In all I’ve seen since you spared me, I have seen naught but goodness, compassion, and honor. True honor. You are already a good, and true man!”
He said nothing as he stared into Mocton’s dark eyes, and his own returned to a more human coloring.
“Brother, old as I am, having served this mage for untold decades, I can tell you this. I am the last bound shade upon this world. The true god’s followers have driven the others away. It may be I am the last bound to this world anywhere. It may be that you…..are our prophecy, and our kindred await only your rise to be able to walk among the living as true men once more.”
“Tripe! Nonsense, and tripe,” Harlock swore. “Strike him down, Mocton,” the man raged. “I command you!”
Mocton stared down at Koa, looking beyond complacent.
“Unnamed, and unbound, I cannot strike at that which does not exist,” the gravelly voice drawled as he stared only at Koa. “Hence, brother, you must strike. If you are the one, you will know the blow that frees us all. A single blow that will either spare us all, or damn us all. I give you this choice, brother,” he told him as those watching all but held their breath as Koa stepped closer.
His eyes, still normal, still seemed to look through and beyond the world around them as he reached out with his left hand, and touched the shoulder of the gaunt shadow before him.
“In all these years, short as they were, you are the first of my own kindred I have met. You are the first that shared my…..gift. And my curse. You are, however, not the first I have called brother. I name you so proudly, and offer you this blow as respite, rather than malice,” he said quietly as he raised his right hand, his gauntlet simply vanishing as shadow wreathed his entire forearm.
Harlock started to smirk in anticipation.
Even as Koa’s hand flashed toward the mage, a barely seen scythe appearing out of the inky mist to slice through flesh and bone, neatly decapitating the man before he could speak a single word. His gaze was stunned and incredulous as his head fell away, and his body tumbled in a limp heap to fall where he had stood.
“Well struck, brother,” the gaunt shape smiled a taut grin. “Long have I wished someone would land that blow,” he said, his face starting to melt like hot wax. “For ten times two decades, that cur bound me to rotting, insensate flesh. Now….. I am finally….free of…..”
Mocton’s melting flesh suddenly faded, and blew away like smoke on the wind. Koa stared up into the sky, and gave a faint smile. “Go in peace, brother. May you never be so bound again.”
He then looked down on the dead mage’s body.
“I believe Lord Hastings is going to be disappointed with this outcome, my lord,” he said, turning to Eric. “Mayhap I should return this cur’s head to let him know he has failed yet again?”
”Please do. With my complements,” Eric nodded soberly.
“Lad,” Jengus said as Koa walked over to pick up the suddenly shriveled
head. “What Lia…. What the princess said…..is true. You have always been a man in our eyes. You have been a true and good man, and a fine companion from the day you stood up, and followed me. I, too, am very proud to name you friend,” he said, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Mayhap, Sir Koa,” Helena said as she stepped forward, too, showing no fear of his unearthly might. “Do you not think that the secret is not so much in becoming a true man, as simply choosing to live as one?”
He looked down at her, and smiled faintly. “Lady, I see where your daughter found her kind heart, and her wisdom. Mayhap there is something to your words. We shall see,” he said, and walked out into the night carrying the old mage’s head.
Eric came over and stared in disdain at the old man’s body. “Bury this filth,” he snarled at his men. “And bury it deep. Let none ever speak of him, either. Let him fade as did the poor creature he bound to this world for far too long,” he ordered.
Jengus merely nodded his approval.
X
George was still feeling more than confident when he walked into his room, and he lit a lamp before pondering his choice of mistress, or slut this evening. Even as he did, he realized something was already on his bed. He walked over, seeing a simple chest, and threw open the lid.
To stare down into the blank, staring eyes of Harlock Graves.
“Bloody hell,” he almost shrieked as he backpedaled, feeling the world grow still and dark around him. He spun around, staring in all directions, and seeing nothing but unending shadow that blinded him to all else.
“What the devil is this? Release me, spirit! I demand it!”
“You are not one to demand aught of anything, or anyone, pretender.”
George shuddered as he heard that voice echo and emanate from all around him.
“I’m not a pret….”
“Pretender to madness. Pretender to ambition. Pretender to the throne.”
“Lies!”
Steel and Shadow: An Epic Fantasy Page 8