The Sword

by Bryan M. Litfin

  “What’s the matter?”

  Ana removed the big stone and dropped it to the forest floor. “Do you really think that one’s necessary? I’m a hard-working farm girl, not a lazy urban princess!” Teo burst into laughter and nodded his head in agreement.

  With a flask of lantern oil, Teo moistened the horse’s tail thoroughly. He had just started to rummage through his rucksack when Ana handed him something else: a box of Vulkain sticks. Taking it from her hand, they exchanged smiles, as a memory passed between them.

  Teo lit the match and ignited the horse’s tail. With a slap on its rump, he sent it galloping into the forest. “That should throw them off,” he said. “Now, Anastasia, take off your gown.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “I said, ‘Take off your gown.’” Teo gestured to the river. “We have to swim.”

  “I know what you meant, Captain. Even so, you shouldn’t say those words to me in that commanding tone.”

  Before Teo could reply, Ana moved into the bushes. Teo tsked and shook his head as he removed his leather jerkin and linen shirt. He heard a splash, followed by a high-pitched gasp as Ana hit the cold water. After retrieving her shoes and gown, Teo set everything on a log, which he pushed ahead of him as he swam across the river.

  Ana reached the western bank a moment before Teo and stood there shivering. She had stripped to her chemise, which clung to her as she emerged from the river. Teo averted his eyes. When he reached the far bank, he dug into the rucksack and removed a dry shift and the riding outfit Ana’s mother had packed. He turned his back to her and held it out.

  Ana walked closer to him. “A moment ago, you rudely ordered me to undress. Now you turn away with chivalry. You seem confused, Captain, as if you’re unsure who to be.”

  “I know who to be. It’s just that, well, you’re nearly naked in that shift.”

  “You’ve never seen a woman’s figure before?”

  “Of course I have.”

  “Then is there something wrong with mine?”

  “N-no—definitely not,” Teo stammered, thrown off-balance by the bold question.

  “So you’re tempted to look, yet you don’t. How come you’re acting like such a gentleman now?”

  Teo searched for a reply. “I guess I’m just trying to give you your privacy.”

  “You didn’t seem to have such convictions when you were gawking at Princess Habiloho.”

  “What? When did I gawk at Habiloho?”

  “At the Pon-Revel. You couldn’t take your eyes off her at the bonfire.”

  “Is that what this is about? You thought I was ogling another girl when I had asked you to be my escort?”

  Ana said nothing.

  “Would it relieve you to know I was staring past her, trying to assess the danger of a certain monk of Astrebril lurking in the woods? And my assessment was a lot more accurate than yours—you got into his coach!”

  There was a pause. Teo heard Ana’s bare feet padding toward him on the sand. He felt the urge to turn around as she approached but held himself still. Ana stood close behind him. She put her wet hand on the bare skin of his shoulder. Teo inhaled sharply. His heart was beating rapidly, and he felt a strong emotion, though he couldn’t say what it was.

  “Captain, I’m sorry,” Ana whispered. “I misjudged you. I do believe you’re a gentleman. And that’s what I want you to be.” She snatched her outfit from his hand and disappeared into the forest.

  Rothgar crept through a thicket with two warriors. The Chiveisian fugitives weren’t far away now. Obviously they were terrified, for they had galloped wildly through the forest for a long time, until their horse had to slow down. A whinny from the trees ahead told Rothgar he was close. Signaling to his two partners, he prepared to charge.

  The men burst into the clearing with battle cries and drawn swords. The horse snorted and shied away as they looked around in bewilderment. Rothgar immediately understood what had happened. The horse’s burden of stones and its burnt tail told him everything he needed to know. It was a clever trick, and that enraged him all the more. He snatched a rock from the horse’s back and hurled it at one of his comrades. “You fool! The demons take you! Who made you a tracker?”

  An hour later, the men stood along the riverbank again. “Here’s the woman’s shoe-print,” the tracker said to his chieftain. “And here’s the man’s boot. It looks like they swam across. We missed it the first time.”

  “No, you missed it.” Rothgar’s tone was contemptuous.

  “Two ships approach!” shouted the other warrior, peering upstream. “They’re ours.”

  Rothgar hailed the cargo ships as they pulled close to the eastern bank. Each vessel held six horses amidships. “What news of the king?” Rothgar called.

  The pilot of the lead ship shouted an answer: “He’s badly burned and in great agony. He’ll carry the scars the rest of his life. He wants the criminals to suffer even worse pain.”

  The two men on the bank glanced at each other, then looked to their chief. Rothgar nodded to them. They all knew of the king’s sadistic cruelty. He would exact revenge of the most horrific kind. Whoever delivered that opportunity to the king would be well rewarded.

  Rothgar ordered all the supplies and gear transferred to the lead ship, along with eight of the horses. “Proceed downstream to the Lost City,” he instructed the pilot. “Hold the bridge there. Whatever you do, don’t let the runaways get across! Kill them if you must, but take them alive if you can. The king will want to watch them be tortured.”

  The second ship, now lightened of its load, was ordered to patrol the river and seek the Chiveisian fugitives.

  “You men will come with me!” Rothgar pointed to the three best warriors. “We’ll take horses and hounds, and we’ll run our quarry down. Blood will be spilled before the day is over!” The men erupted in cheers.

  “Chief! Look here!” The tracker approached from the underbrush. “I think I’ve found something to help us!” He brought his discovery to Rothgar—a pair of women’s stockings and garters.

  A smile grew in the depths of Rothgar’s shaggy beard. “Ha! She’s a frisky one—mating in the bushes like a hind and leaving her stockings in the dirt!”

  Rothgar carried the find to the hounds in their cages. He opened the doors and let out the excited dogs. When he held Ana’s hosiery to their noses, they began to sniff the earth and bay in anticipation of the hunt.

  “It’ll be a merry chase, men!” Rothgar exclaimed. “I’ll have that whore to myself tonight, and when I’m done, you can have what’s left!” A malignant sneer darkened his face. “Believe me, it won’t be much.”

  Ana felt vulnerable as she changed out of her wet chemise into dry clothes. She was relieved to put on her outfit, not only for modesty’s sake, but also because her new garments were much more practical. Over her dry chemise, Ana wore an ivory tunic decorated with gold trim. The tunic, with fitted sleeves and a belt that gathered it at the waist, fell to the middle of her thighs as a short skirt. She donned woolen leggings of dark brown, which would allow her to walk or sit astride a horse with greater ease. She also pulled on a pair of high boots—much better than the shoes she had selected when she had thought her day would involve only poetry and games. In her tunic and leggings, Ana looked more like a peasant traveler than a lady. But given her current circumstances, she didn’t mind that look at all.

  “I’m not used to seeing you like that,” Teo said when she returned.

  Ana smiled. “I’m quite versatile, you know. I wear gowns whenever I can and a tunic when I must.”

  “You make a lovely vision in both.”

  “A courteous word,” Ana answered with a nod. “Thank you, Captain Teofil.”

  Hiking west through the forest, Teo and Ana crossed a narrow shipping canal on an accumulation of debris and fallen logs, then came to an overgrown road. Teo stooped to examine it. The highway, still visible underneath the layer of organic material, was made of the black stone the Ancients a
lways used. Though now severely deteriorated, it was still flecked with the white paint that had marked its surface.

  “The Ancients were excellent engineers,” he said. “Their roads cut straight across the countryside instead of meandering around. We could travel quickly on this old roadbed.”

  “Which direction—north or south?”

  “Chiveis is to the south, but so is our enemy’s territory. We could try going that way, but we might run into searchers. Or we could strike north and establish some separation from them.”

  “Wherever you go, I’ll follow.”

  Ana had no sooner uttered those words when she heard a distant sound that sent a wave of terror coursing through her body. Her mouth dropped open, and she saw Teo’s eyes widen as the sickening realization dawned on him as well. Hounds! They were approaching from the south.

  For a moment, the pair stood absolutely still, trying to comprehend this new threat. Then Teo uttered a single word: “Run!”

  Driven by fear, Ana sprinted north on the road with Teo at her side. Her breath started coming in gasps, but she kept running, desperate to lose her pursuers. Yet part of her knew it was futile. The baying of the hounds grew nearer.

  They rounded a bend in the road and were forced to halt. Thorns blocked the way ahead. The hounds were close now. Ana panted heavily, her hand on her chest, trying to regain her breath. She felt Teo grip her arm, and she knew what it meant. The pack of dogs had emerged onto the road behind them, followed by four men on horseback. Teo and Ana stood exposed. The men looked directly at them, pointing and shouting.

  Even at a distance, Ana recognized one of the men: Rothgar! Her stomach lurched. She would rather die than fall back into his filthy hands. Putting her finger to her bosom, she felt the dagger clipped to her chemise. She had stolen it from one of her captors with a specific purpose in mind. Teofil had thought it was for self-defense, but she knew it was inadequate for that. In her heart Ana resolved—as a last resort—to use the knife for its true purpose. On herself.

  Teo saw everything with the clarity that comes only in the most desperate moments. He was alone in a remote forest with nowhere to run or hide. It would be a battle to the death. And if he died, what would happen to Anastasia? Torment, degradation, defilement. He must not let that happen. He would not.

  The four riders spurred their horses and charged, their weapons raised. Ana let out a little whimper. Teo knew she understood that her life hung in the balance. He held her by both shoulders and looked into her eyes.

  “Steady,” he said. “I’ll protect you, Anastasia. Trust me.”

  He took her hand and pulled her into a thicket where the horsemen couldn’t attack all at once. “Get up in this tree! Stay there until I come get you!”

  “Give me your bow and quiver. They’re no use to you now.”

  As Teo handed them up, he heard the sound of horses charging through the underbrush behind him. He wheeled around, and then the fury descended.

  The lead horse bore down on Teo. It was Rothgar, hissing like a lynx, his spear held low. Teo stood his ground as long as he dared, gripping his ax in his left hand and the sword of Armand in his right. Every sense came alive. His muscles tensed. At the last possible moment, he made his move. With the flicking motion he had practiced many times, though never in the face of such a deadly threat, Teo flung a metal ball at his enemy. The missile took Rothgar in the teeth with a loud crack. He cried out and dropped his spear, which allowed Teo to stay in the horse’s path. Teo sidestepped just enough to slash the beast’s shoulder as it went hurtling by, sending it crashing to the earth in a deluge of blood. The horse squealed, and Rothgar was thrown hard against a tree trunk where he lay still. One down, three to go.

  Teo weaved through the trees, sensing another rider barreling at him from behind. He whirled with his ax to parry the blow of the attacker’s sword. The enormous impact rang out in the forest. Teo’s arm quivered, but his training didn’t fail him. In a fluid motion, he spun the ax in his hand to catch the sword blade in its crook, yanking hard as the horse swept by. He expected the move to pull the sword from his assailant’s hand, but the man had a firm grip on the hilt, so he came tumbling out of the saddle instead. He collided with Teo, and the two went sprawling into the briars. With thorns clawing at them, they lunged at each other, weapons extended, bellowing in rage. Teo’s sword was the longer, and that made the difference. It pierced the man’s ribs even as Teo felt the hot burn of a blade slicing across his forearm. Though the wound Teo received was bloody, the one he had just dealt was mortal.

  Hooves pounding! Move!

  Teo rolled aside as a pale gray horse flew by, its rider’s spear barely missing. As the horse’s great bulk thundered past, its hoof clipped Teo’s shin, sending agony up his leg. He ignored the pain and dodged behind a tree as another rider’s arrow smacked into the bark near his face.

  Sprinting toward the enemy archer, who was fumbling to nock a second arrow, Teo flicked two balls at him in rapid succession. One missed, but the other hit the man in the knuckles. He grimaced and dropped his bow. Teo roared like a wild animal. With a look of fear, the man swept his weapon from its scabbard, and then Teo was on him with ax and sword.

  Blades clashed as the two men struggled to survive. The horse shied and pranced, not liking the close combat and the smell of blood. The mounted attacker leaned from the saddle to make a thrust. Teo parried with his sword, and his ax countered with a crushing blow. He sank its edge deep into his enemy’s skull, pulling the dead man headfirst from the horse’s back. Grabbing the reins, Teo leaped into the saddle and kicked his heels just in time to avoid the whiz of an arrow.

  Teo turned his mount to confront the last man, who rode the pale gray horse. Even at a distance, Teo discerned he was a superb fighter. The rider had been forced to circle a briar patch after his earlier charge. Now, as he rounded the briars, a confident smile spread across his face. He threw aside his bow, lowered his spear, and charged at Teo with a wild yell. Goading his own horse, Teo surged forward. The lust for battle had taken hold of him now.

  As the galloping horses neared, Teo realized with dismay that his sword would be no match for his enemy’s long spear. Its steel tip would run him through long before his own blade could be brought into action. Hooves and heartbeats pounded as the warhorses raced toward each other. Both warriors were shouting at the tops of their lungs. The spearhead glinted in the sun as the rider aimed at Teo’s chest. The man wore a triumphant grin. Death was certain.

  Now!

  Teo stood erect in the stirrups. With all his strength, he hurled his ax at his assailant, then dove from the saddle as the two horses collided.

  The force of Teo’s impact against the ground stunned him, but he dared not hesitate. Gasping, he spun around. The two horses were rolling in the dirt, striving to regain their legs. Beside them, the spearman lay on his back, the ax embedded in his chest. The man tried to sit up, grunted, and fell back. Teo walked over to him, breathing hard, his bloodied sword extended. The outsider met his eyes with a rancorous glare. Death claimed him then, sealing his livid stare for all eternity. Teo yanked his ax from the man’s sternum.

  Anastasia!

  Teo ran through the forest to the place he had left her. He looked into the tree, scanning the branches. She wasn’t there.

  Something leaped from the bushes with a ferocious growl. Teo pivoted in time to parry the thrust of a sword, though the unexpected attack knocked the blade from his hand. The force of the man’s lunge threw Teo against the tree trunk. It was Rothgar, snarling through his shattered teeth, his dark beard glistening with blood. His fiendish expression was demented and subhuman.

  Rothgar swung his sword in a vicious overhead arc, but Teo grabbed the haft of his ax and held it in two hands to block the attack, struggling to keep the deadly blade away. Rothgar did not relent. He was a big man and unbelievably strong. His jagged red teeth gnashed in Teo’s face as he vented his murderous desire. Teo could feel his strength ebbing
as he pushed against his enemy’s sword blade with the ax handle.

  Rothgar’s free hand reached for a hunting knife at his belt. Horrified, Teo watched Rothgar grasp the knife and draw it back. There was nothing he could do. He needed both hands to fend off the sword. Teo’s stomach muscles tensed as he prepared to receive the killing stab.

  Suddenly a bloodstained arrowhead emerged from Rothgar’s chest. The fierce press of his sword against Teo’s ax diminished. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his knife slipped from his fingers. He gagged, went limp, and fell to the ground.

  Teo raised his eyes from Rothgar’s corpse. A few paces away stood Anastasia, beautiful and resolute. A bow was in her hand.

  “You picked the wrong woman, Rothgar,” she said.

  Teo met Ana’s eyes. They approached each other slowly, breathing heavily and shaking. She clasped him around the neck, and his arms encircled her waist. They stood like that for a long time in the forest, leaning on each other for strength and comfort.

  “You know, Anastasia,” Teo said at last, his hands resting on the small of her back, “this is the second time you’ve saved my life.”

  She drew back from the embrace to look up at Teo. “Let’s hope there won’t be need of a third.”

  Ana pushed away the covers of her bedroll and adjusted the folded cloak that served as her pillow. The night was warmer than usual, but the copper leaves of the beech trees overhead told her it was certainly autumn.

  Beyond the trees, brilliant pinpoints of light speckled the night sky. Chiveisian folklore said the stars were gods. Were they? Ana longed to know the answer, but who could tell her of such things? A stanza from her poem came to her mind: I wait, alone, with longing heart / My soul begins to pine / For one who reigns o’er all to give / A prophecy divine! Ana sighed and folded her hands across her stomach as she gazed into the mute cosmos.

  After the battle, she had tended the cut on Teofil’s arm with yarrow root for the bleeding and wild garlic to prevent infection. She had wanted to rest there, but the captain insisted on getting away quickly in case more searchers were in the vicinity. After gathering the horses, he put the injured one out of its misery, then fed the others oats from the outsiders’ supplies. As for the hounds milling around without any masters to lead them, they could fend for themselves.