The Shattered Shards

by Stephen J Wolf

  They were a team because they each contributed their strengths to the whole unit. It was like the jades themselves, each with their own abilities that would come together to create the colossus. So, too, must the people of the land find ways of working together across the borders. They needed to find and share their strengths for the greater good, to share resources, to end the wars, and to start out on a new path.

  Dariak was so caught up in his epiphany, he didn’t realize he had been swinging his hands, inadvertently augmenting the fire in front of him. Now, it rose to a blazing, spiraling column, swirling in the air and alerting all the land to their presence.

  “Put it out, you moron!” Kitalla shouted at him. “You want all the patrols to come take us in? Not sure if I can break you out of the royal dungeons again! Turn it off!”

  Embarrassed, Dariak reversed his hand motions in order to quell the pulsing energies. To that end, he tapped the water jade with his mind, seeking its help, and soon the campfire returned to its complacent glow. Gabrion and Randler sprinted back moments later.

  “What was that?” Gabrion gasped. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

  The mage nodded, abashed. “I was lost in thought. Sorry.”

  “Not to worry,” Randler chimed in, “we were heading back anyway. You just got us here a little sooner.” He cast warning glances at Kitalla and Gabrion, who shook their heads and dismissed the issue.

  At once, the team set about preparing dinner and laying out the next course of action. They still needed to reach Randler’s cave and retrieve the last of the jades he had claimed. After establishing the order of the watch for the night, the team settled into their routines, hoping to pass the night peacefully.

  But Dariak’s inadvertent signal had indeed alerted the nearby patrols. Magic use was essentially forbidden in Kallisor and no other explanation would hold for a display of that magnitude. Randler had taken first watch as usual, pulling out his lute and strumming a warm lullaby. He continued the tune for a while, pausing only to stoke the fire and take some water. But soon the night air filled with the sounds of horses and clanking armor.

  Alert for such an attack, Kitalla was already on her feet when Randler sounded the alarm. It took seconds for them to ready their weapons and to arrange themselves into a fighting stance, keeping the horses behind them and out of harm’s way. The patrol was coming from the southeast, but they suspected it wouldn’t be the only one that would arrive.

  “Halt, fiends!” the guard captain sneered upon arrival. “I place you under arrest for the use of magical energies. Lay down your weapons and come peaceably or meet your doom.”

  Gabrion whispered back to Dariak, “They’re well protected against you.”

  “Silence!” the man demanded.

  Kitalla released a loud sigh. “There are only nine of you. You don’t stand a chance against us. Go home and have your wives bake you some bread. Better that than dying here.”

  “Impudence!” he barked, but he didn’t issue the order to attack. “Whatever your skills, you will succumb to the law of our lord king. Now stay your weapons!”

  Kitalla turned to Gabrion. “I don’t think he understands. Can I kill one of them to make my point?”

  It took all of the warrior’s concentration not to laugh at her flippant retort. “If they raise a sword against any of us, you can kill the usual four.”

  The thief grinned and added a malicious cackle for effect. “Raise your sword, armored one. Go on, I dare you! Please!”

  The sheer audacity of it broke the man’s resolve. His horse sensed his hesitation and stepped back a pace as he glanced at his troop, wondering if the companions were all bluff. He was a seasoned soldier and he could sense the deep camaraderie between them. He wavered only for a moment more before raising his sword and calling for the attack.

  True to her word, Kitalla’s hands flicked forward and daggers sailed through the air, killing two soldiers instantly and unseating two others. Randler had a mace at the ready, for arrows wouldn’t be much use at the moment. Gabrion’s sword flashed and dispatched two more fighters from their mounts. The captain, bewildered by the instant turn of events, snapped his reins and ignored Kitalla and Gabrion, racing directly for the mage among them.

  Dariak had been pulling on the energies through the entire verbal exchange, even knowing that his spells had been failing or going haywire all day. The Shield of Delminor was ineffective, but because he had witnessed it earlier, he looked for the fault in the energy weave and sensed immediately that it wouldn’t do more than protect him from a scraped knee, if even that. Thinking quickly, he brought his arms up and wide, mimicking the swell of a tide, and then spun full circle, reaching out for the oncoming soldier. A gush of water issued forth, spraying horse and rider, but they weren’t deterred at all. The man and horse were covered in special magic-resistant armor, not unlike the protective wards in the Prisoner’s Tower that had kept him trapped within. The spell struck and fell, dampening the land, but not hindering the attacker at all. Randler tried to intervene, but Dariak insisted otherwise, sending him to join the rest of the fray.

  Dariak didn’t want to do it, but the horseback rider was coming closer so fast, he didn’t have time to think of other consequences. His twitching and numb-patched body understood the need, and so it cooperated with him as he tapped into the lightning jade. The erratic energy of the jade raced instantly through his body, but he had no intention of turning back into a ball of chain lightning. Instead, he sent the energy burst forth out of his body and into the air between himself and the rider. A blinding sphere of light blazed to life and terrified the man’s horse, causing it to buck and veer away. The spell didn’t last for long, but at least it had saved the mage. Unfortunately, its light acted as a second beacon, and another nearby patrol rode in minutes later to investigate.

  Gabrion and Kitalla, meanwhile, were dipping in and around the remaining guards. It was a tougher fight than others they had experienced against the king’s soldiers. As he slashed and ducked, then spun about, Gabrion wondered about it, knowing he ought to be focused instead on the battle but unable to stop himself. It seemed to him that the king was not sending the best fighters off to the war, but rather the lesser ones. The more-seasoned of the troops were instead kept near the king’s capitol city in order to protect himself. At least, so it seemed as he took a few hits and doled out several of his own.

  Kitalla had come to the same conclusion but was less surprised by it. Instead, she focused on lunging and stretching as much as possible, keeping herself limber and ready for more. She understood that Dariak’s second blast of unnatural light would ensure they had a busy time of it tonight.

  “Incoming!” Randler hollered moments later. He faced off against one of the wounded soldiers from Kitalla’s first attack, but his sensitive ears heard the hooves from the north. He smashed his mace against the man’s helmet and pulled back, turning to help Dariak who was struggling against the guard captain.

  The man had fallen from his frightened horse and he moved a little sluggishly through his pain, but he had an angry glimmer in his eye that alerted Dariak to the man’s determination. This battle was going to end in death—either his or the soldier’s. The mage summoned his fire darts, casting them outward to distract his foe, but the guard had clearly been trained for such things, and he trusted deeply in the protection his armor gave him. His only reaction to the fire darts was to squint against the light.

  Dariak backed away, fumbling in his pocket for a dagger. He wasn’t ready for this. He relied on his magic. There wasn’t much he could do here. A quick glance showed him that the others were busy, especially as the northern patrol rode in and joined the fray. Even Randler was splattered with blood from his bouts. No one could help him now.

  The soldier sensed it too and he gave a toothy grin. “Time’s up, mage.” He took a teasing jump forward, causing Dariak to stumble in his haste to step back. He had his dagger at the ready, but he knew already it was no matc
h. With a yell, the broad fighter rushed forward and brought his sword around, a crazy light flaring in his eyes. Dariak stepped further away, then remembered something Gabrion had done back in the Savvron. As the fighter ran toward him, Dariak daringly lurched forward into a roll and snuck under the man’s attack. He brought his dagger up into the man’s belly, scoring a wound but not a fatal one. In fact, the move only enraged the man further.

  The mage kicked with his feet, trying to knock the sword from his opponent’s hand, to no avail. The soldier grabbed one of Dariak’s ankles and stamped his foot down into the mage’s crotch, sending waves of searing agony through him. As he recoiled, the soldier laughed lining up his sword and preparing for the final blow.

  Dariak looked once more for help, but his friends were hard-pressed. He had little option left. He cried out to the jades among him, begging for their help in this battle. He felt the sizzling response from the lightning and though he feared the repercussions, he accepted its hunger. The electricity seared through him and tugged at his essence, desiring to change him again into the ball of energy.

  But the other jades refused. Dariak could sense their interference all at once. The earth and water jades raced through him and held his body together in material form, thwarting the efforts of the lightning jade. Even the air jade whipped around and battered against the sparks. Three against one, the lightning lost and was quelled once again.

  This didn’t help Dariak against the sword seeking its way into his flesh. A biting, searing pain cut into his chest as the tip of the sword pierced through his tunic and punctured his skin. With the mage essentially immobilized, the soldier was delighting in making this thrust as painful as possible, and though he could have killed the mage quickly, he enjoyed the horrific screams now filling the night air.

  His torment of the mage led to his own undoing, however, for Dariak had another ally he hadn’t counted on. Sensing its master’s pain, Dariak’s horse tore free of its post and rammed the soldier to the ground, nickering angrily and biting with terrible force. Taken unawares, the soldier went down, where his arm landed under a stomping hoof and was badly broken.

  Dariak couldn’t move for all the agony he was feeling, but he coerced his thoughts to pull on healing energies. He swept them through his chest and the jades helped by augmenting the spell. It was only enough to seal the wound from inside out; the pain lasted far after. Dariak rolled onto his side, clutching his dagger and eying the captain, who was again on his feet and slashing wildly at the horse. He couldn’t let his protector be harmed, and so Dariak sent sparks toward the soldier, drawing his attention back once again. But one glance told the man that the horse was the greater threat, so he thrust and stabbed again, scoring some hits on the larger beast, but not striking anything vital.

  Dariak pulled himself onto his knees and then found his feet. Whatever hurt he felt was irrelevant if the man scored a kill against the horse. Not thinking about what he was doing, Dariak leaned forward and let his body weight pull him forward, arm outstretched. With a thud, his dagger penetrated the captain’s armor from the back, and with a startled cry, he fell dead.

  With the threat gone, the horse immediately calmed down and nuzzled against the mage, whose body gave way and dropped to the dirt. The injured horse stood guard over the unconscious Dariak, keeping him out of harm’s way.

  By this time, the others had drawn closer together to better protect themselves. Gabrion’s sword swept wide and his shield blocked many incoming blows. Randler defended more than he attacked, but he kept his fair share of attackers busy, wounding many of them along the way. Kitalla was the major killing force among them. While Gabrion and Randler drew and deflected attacks, Kitalla leaped forth with deadly strikes, bringing down their foes quickly.

  A third patrol had joined the fight, but with the piling bodies around the field, they were reticent to get too involved. Two of them were archers and they launched a few volleys into the trio, scoring hits on Randler and Gabrion, until Kitalla unleashed her daggers and snapped their bowstrings with careful tosses. It wasn’t until a fourth battalion entered the area that the team grew truly concerned.

  Heartened by additional support, the third group of fighters became enthusiastic in their efforts, sweeping aside other fighters and trying to get close enough to score hits against the fearsome threesome. Kitalla called forth to her jade, which increased the accuracy of her metal blades. Similarly, Gabrion sharpened his own sword with his shard’s help and Randler obscured the enemy’s sightlines with a bit of darkening magic. They couldn’t control the powers well, especially within the heat of battle, but the jades themselves were somewhat willing to assist and so they did.

  The fourth set of soldiers was fresh and the team was weakening. Dismounting and readying their weapons, the soldiers waded through the other fighters, giving them well-earned respites, seeking the rogues in the center. They too had seen the mage-fires in the sky and if they weren’t mages themselves, it was clear they were in league with one.

  Desperation set in and Kitalla started screaming with each major thrust of her daggers. Her supply was running low, too. Another fifteen fighters remained to take them down now that the fourth troop had arrived. She believed in herself and the others, but she sure wished a large fireball would appear all of a sudden and level the field. Thinking of the mage, she glanced around but saw no sign of him.

  Gabrion received some nasty wounds from his attackers, who saw him as the biggest threat with his wide sweeping arcs. Doubling up against him, they were able to keep the nimble warrior constantly moving, and he was starting to tire. Gashes appeared on his legs and arms, with a slice scored on his right cheek adding a sharp sting as sweat dripped within. He refused to admit defeat and kept pushing onward, taking down another soldier and then another.

  And then another sound filled the air that took the hope from him. More horses were nearby, rushing to enter the battle. He raised a ferocious cry and spun in a wide, dizzying circle, felling all the soldiers within range with his crazy, blind attack. He needed erratic action now in order to combat the endless parade of foes. He too thought of Dariak and the spells that could save them now.

  As the fifth group of fighters approached, the rest of the king’s men redoubled their efforts. Randler took a sword hilt to the head, collapsing in a heap. Gabrion’s retaliatory strike kept the attacker from killing the bard, but the move cost Gabrion some of his defensive posture. Kitalla more than compensated for it with a hasty dagger throw, after which she turned to finish her newest opponent.

  The soldiers on the outskirts trying to get inside to kill the rogues were furious when a horn sounded, calling for a halt. They shouted back at the newest commander, insisting that a mage was present and needed to be taken in at once, but the horn blast repeated in reply. It took time to disentangle the fighting, but Kitalla and Gabrion held their own and pulled Randler between them once they had the chance. Dariak was too far away to likewise protect, but they could see the mage’s horse standing over him.

  “Stand down!” ordered the newly arrived officer. “This is my jurisdiction. Defy me and face the consequences.”

  Kitalla sneered but refused to lower her weapons. To her shock, all of the other fighters set aside their weapons and stepped away. They created a wide, safe berth, though she could have breached it easily with a good toss. However, it wouldn’t benefit her in any way with all the fresh fighters in the area.

  “Signs of magic were seen in this vicinity. I shall meet with the perpetrators now,” he commanded. Gabrion eyed the man oddly, tilting his head and squinting. The soldier dismounted and handed his sword to one of his men before approaching Gabrion and Kitalla unarmed.

  He came very close to them and looked briefly at the carnage they had created. The duo was panting heavily, still ready for attack even with everyone else backing away.

  “Greetings to you,” he said somewhat congenially from behind his helmet. “I understand that magic was used in his area and j
ustice must be served.”

  “You won’t take us with you,” Kitalla assured him coldly.

  “I will. And you haven’t any choice.” He shrugged. “That or death, in any regard. But fear not, for you will not be harmed within my troop. I assure you.” He then lowered his voice so only they could hear. “I beg of you to comply.”

  “We surrender,” Gabrion said after a moment. He looked sorrowfully at Kitalla. “We really don’t have a choice.”

  She didn’t like it. But there wasn’t anything else they could do. If they struck the man down, they would certainly die when the others retaliated. If they resisted him at all, he would have no choice but to coerce them or kill them. Going peacefully might give them a chance.

  The soldier waved a hand to his men, who rushed over and claimed the prisoners, steering them away from the other fighters who had lost comrades to these two. Randler and Dariak were also recovered, as were their horses and belongings. The compliance of all the other guards left Gabrion and Kitalla with no doubt that this soldier was indeed at the head of jurisdiction in this area. They departed the scene moments later, leaving the rest to tend to the wounded and dead.

  It was a quiet and formal march away from the battle for the next hour. The dark night overhead added a solemnity to the procession and as the minutes ticked away, both Gabrion and Kitalla doubted the situation more and more. At last the leader called a halt and the rest of the men set up camp for the remainder of the night.

  The prisoners were pulled from their perches and set together on the ground, after which their binds were cut. Kitalla rubbed her wrists as she looked up suspiciously into the leader’s helmeted eyes. “What’s this about? Now that we’re away from the rest, will you kill us? Why release our hands?”

  At last the man pulled the helmet from his head, which prompted a sharp gasp from Gabrion. “No,” the soldier responded to Kitalla, “I won’t kill you. Not after you spared my life,” he added, looking at Gabrion.