by Rutger Krenn
How he hated their voices! Once again he was back with Agchack and he unconsciously fingered the scars on his right arm. His mind returned to that terrible day over a dozen years ago. His arms were cut and bleeding. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his muscles ached with exhaustion. No longer could he swipe the knives away. They came fast and were thrown with too much malice, and when the knives ran out, stones soon followed.
The Goblins ringed him closer now. He yelled at them in defiance and struck as hard and fast as he could, but the Goblins didn’t fight him. They blocked his strokes and smashed the backs of their swords against his arm. It was jarred to the bone, and the force of the blows rocked him to his heels, but he wouldn’t let the sword go.
They were close now, close enough to have killed him many times, but he yelled his defiance and continued to struggle.
A hairy hand clamped down about his small wrist. It gripped him like a vice. He couldn’t believe the force and he thought his bones would break. The pain was excruciating, but still he refused to let go of the sword.
He kicked out with his left leg. There wasn’t much strength in the blow, but it was enough to unbalance the Goblin holding him. He leaned back a little, and the grip on Talon’s arm lessened. Talon ripped it free and his sword flashed through the air and struck home.
It was far from a killing blow, but it cut a gash in the Goblin’s side and he jumped back in pain and surprise. He was the leader, and Talon now saw a hot desire for revenge in his eyes. There was no mercy there: only a promise of agony.
Talon looked away from his gaze. He was scared, far more scared than he had ever been before, but he lifted his sword higher and took a step toward the Goblin. There was nothing else to do.
His attention shifted back to the sentries. They’d suddenly stopped talking. Could they have seen him? He remained frozen where he was, watching and thinking. He could kill them on his way out, taking his revenge for what he had endured all those years ago, and then escape on his horse before the rest could reach him. That would be two less Goblins for the world to worry about, but he reigned in these first instincts. Apart from anything else, the risk that he didn’t escape, even if small, was too great. He must take news of this army to Thromdar, and he couldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.
The Goblins had made no move to investigate anything, so he slipped back to the sorrel, taking much longer on the way out than he had on the way in, and then rode into the timber. He went north again, circling the encampment for some while, but still under cover of trees, and then moved up the slope toward the ridge.
He was tired and in need sleep. His horse was worn out too and needed rest even more than he did, but there would be no rest between now and late afternoon at the earliest. By then he should be able to reach Thromdar with his news. For now he must ride, and ride with speed. Daylight was approaching, and he had to clear the valley by then, otherwise he might have more than just the Chung following him. He would have an army of Goblins at his heels as well, and that would be no good thing: not for a man who wanted to live, who wanted to start his life anew in his old home and make something of himself.
He felt he was a safe distance from the Goblins, though there could be scouts anywhere between here and Thromdar. He took the risk anyway and nudged the sorrel into a gallop. Weary as the horse was he still raised a fast pace, and his easy strides ate up the distance. The sky was lightening in the east and the tops of the mountains burned with a pink fire as the sun rose over the rim of the world.
It remained dark in the valley though and also along the tree-lined paths that Talon took. He followed the trails that offered the most concealment. There were stands of timber here and there though they didn’t grow as thickly as he would have liked. Still, the Goblins were now a long way away and they would have trouble seeing him even if they were looking in his direction. He gave no further heed to his tracks. There were two sets of enemies now that could follow them but it couldn’t be helped. What counted at the moment was speed.
Between here and Thromdar was just one more valley and he hoped to reach safety by nightfall. Then he could lose both lots of enemies, pass on the disturbing news of the Goblin army and leave the castle behind. How he would build a new life for himself and uncover the mystery surrounding his mother were things he had not yet properly considered.
His childhood home was lost to him. That was one place at least which he knew he wouldn’t return to.
Irritably, he pushed these old thoughts to the back of his mind and let them go. There were many things that had happened to him since those times, and they had been good.
He looked back from beneath the shadows of some trees and studied the Goblin camp. There was activity now as timber was added to fires and meals were cooked. This brought the realization that he hadn’t eaten himself, and he became suddenly hungry. He decided to stop for a brief meal and rest the horse momentarily when he went down into the next valley.
He was just about to crest the ridge when he saw what he dreaded, and thoughts of food and rest disappeared. There were five riders coming fast up the valley behind him. They didn’t appear to be on his trail but a little to its west. Could they have seen him? Or had they just split up and taken their chances to find him?
There was nothing he could do about it so he nudged the sorrel forward and carefully used what few trees there were and the many large boulders that littered the pass for cover. When he reached the other side he looked down into a large valley.
It was richer and more fertile than the others he had ridden through so far. The grass was green and lush, the warmth of spring and early summer reaching even high into the mountains.
Then he stopped the sorrel dead in its tracks. There were two people riding the lower slopes a mile or so away. They were small from this distance, and he couldn’t tell much about them. It was certain to be more trouble though, and he cursed his luck. Fire and flood! Nothing had been going well for weeks now.
He studied the riders hard. He could tell from the fact that they were riding that at least they weren’t Goblins. No horse ever foaled allowed a Goblin on its back.
Who on earth were they? Could they be Chung? If they weren’t enemies would he be able to prevent them from riding toward the danger of the Goblins?
He gripped the reigns tightly in his strong right hand. Indecision annoyed him, but in this situation to make the wrong choice would hold consequences not just for himself but for others as well.
There were only moments to decide what to do. Pursuers who would kill him were closing from the rear, he had urgent news for Thromdar castle, and now there was the possibility of endangered people ahead, or possibly enemies in front as well as behind. What course of action could he take that wouldn’t lead to disaster?
Chapter 2
Talon scrutinized the riders below. They didn’t look like Chung. It was too far away to be sure but the horses had a different build. The stock of Aren Daleth were longer in the leg and of a finer type.
It wasn’t much to go on, but he decided to trust his instincts. If they weren’t Chung they must be Northmen and they obviously weren’t aware of the danger of the Goblin army.
His indecision vanished, and having determined they probably weren’t enemies, he knew he had to warn them. His mind made up, he nudged the sorrel into a gallop and sped down the slope.
The silver pendant that hung about his neck jarred loose from underneath his tunic. It was a beautifully crafted Eagle of the North, the symbol of Aren Daleth, and the only keepsake he had that had belonged to his mother.
He felt a rush of wind on his face and the power of the horse beneath him. Riding was always exhilarating and now it was heightened by imminent danger. He pulled his thoughts together abruptly. This was no time to act like a fool. The danger was no longer just behind him but possibly all around. His old enemies had already found him or would discover his tracks shortly. Five riders were at his back but where were the rest?
It was
possible that the others could be in front even if the two riders he could see had nothing to do with them. The risk of death increased with every stride of the horse and each decision he made but there was no safety in turning back either.
The riders down the valley saw him and stopped. It appeared as though they were content to await his arrival and see who it was that approached so urgently.
Talon hoped they would listen to him. He would be unknown here but the word of a traveler should be good enough. Who would be so foolish as to dismiss the news he brought?
Onwards he rode and looking back he saw that the five riders were now on his trail. They were a little over a mile away. He felt a sudden stab of fear as he saw that they were on fresh mounts. They must have stolen them from an isolated farmstead. He hadn’t seen any such place himself but he had heard that there were a few brave Northmen who lived in fortified steads and farmed west of Thromdar castle.
The sorrel took him forward and now it was a race; a mad dash to the two strangers at the bottom of the valley to let them know of the Goblin army. This would serve two purposes: they would learn of their own personal danger and also, even if he were caught by the Chung, there would still be some chance of his news reaching Thromdar castle.
His mind flew ahead to cover all possibilities. What if his enemies, after killing him as they would surely do if they could, also killed the strangers? They would not want witnesses even in a foreign land. Still, they were not at their full strength and he had not been able to see the most dangerous of them, Wu Chin, in the group. It was possible they could be repulsed if the two riders took his side, but what would the strangers do, and what manner of men were they?
Down the slope he rushed and the figures of the strangers became clearer. With relief he could now tell for certain that they were Northmen.
Reaching the bottom of the valley he sped on. The sorrel was lathered with sweat and steam rose from his slick body into the cool morning air.
He raced forward and his pursuers came after. They had gained a little on him. The chances that he and the two strangers could get out of this without a fight were diminishing. He suddenly wondered if he were doing the right thing. Maybe he should lead his enemies away from these men? They had no part in his feud with the Chung and he had no wish to bring danger toward them unnecessarily.
Reluctantly he confirmed his earlier decision that he must. They were still in danger whether he rode to them or not and if he didn’t survive who would take word of the Goblin army to Thromdar?
He drew close. The two strangers looked at him without betraying any feelings. Oddly, they didn’t show signs of fear or agitation which would be expected with a lone rider galloping toward them and five others following.
The one on the left was tall and thin. He had a look of authority about him. His hair was long, but well combed, and his beard was neatly trimmed. The other, who was of smaller build, had long blond hair and sat on the horse with rare natural grace.
It was a woman! Talon realized this with shock and cursed his luck once more. Her safety was an additional worry for him and he couldn’t understand why someone would bring a girl beyond the edges of the Battlemark and so close to Goblins.
He reached the strangers who at last seemed to be showing surprise and pulled his horse to a halt. The sorrel snorted and breathed loudly. He would get little rest before the ride began again and the next stage of the race would have to be slower.
“Do you have any idea of your danger?” Talon said abruptly, frustration at the situation lending harshness to his voice.
The man took offence straight away and stiffened in his saddle. Talon regretted his tone instantly but could tell he was the type who took offence regularly. The girl merely glanced imperiously in his direction.
“On the contrary. It is you who are in danger,” said the bearded man in the unhurried drawl of a noble who would rather not, and yet by necessity must, address someone of lower rank.
“Have a care,” he continued, “or I will teach you better manners than you presently possess. This is Lady Arell, daughter of the Duke. She is not accustomed to the rudeness of commoners.”
Talon turned his attention to Arell. She was, he could not deny, a stunning woman. Her rich blonde hair ran golden in the morning light. Her blue eyes showed quick intelligence and a spirit of defiance. She looked at this moment as though she were the queen of Aren Daleth. Talon knew his enemies though. It was possible that in a matter of minutes she could lie bloody and lifeless on the ground unless he acted swiftly. It irked him to be called a commoner by someone with such arrogance. Little did these people know that his father was Duke of the Seamark, but he had no intention of telling them that and destroying his chance to build a fresh life and make a name for himself in his own right.
“The Lord Mecklem is correct,” said the Lady. “I am not accustomed to being addressed by any man of whom I have not been properly introduced.”
“Well then, miss, you can call me Talon. And now you had better ride, and ride fast. There’s an army of Goblins in the next valley, and if you haven’t noticed yet those five riders trailing me are Chung warriors. They’ve come to kill me but I don’t think they’ll stop once they get started.”
Arell showed no great alarm at this speech. Her eyes flickered to the oncoming riders and narrowed thoughtfully as she studied them. She didn’t show fear, but she didn’t show stupidity either. She knew she was in danger now but she wasn’t going to fall to pieces. Talon did a quick reassessment. Perhaps she wasn’t helpless after all but her superior manner made him grind his teeth together.
“Talon?” said the Lord Mecklem, testing the name with curiosity as his eyes took in every aspect of the rider before him, including the silver pendant, measuring him up as though they were acquaintances of long ago.
“What sort of a name is that, boy?”
Talon didn’t like this man at all. He sensed at once that he had a streak of cruelty as well as being arrogant. Arell’s fault was that she just thought she was superior. This man would start a quarrel and get them all killed by his belligerence.
“I’m no boy,” answered Talon quickly, “and the name was given to me by one whom I admired greatly.”
The memory of that day long ago with the Goblins came to him unbidden. He was about to die when an old Chung warrior spun among them, sword flashing and knife glinting. In the blink of an eye red blood flowed in streams upon the ground and the Goblins were slain with a skill Talon thought beyond human ability. It was this warrior, who had ended up being so much more, who had named him Talon.
Mecklem was going to be difficult. “You are like a boy to me. A boy who is rude to his betters and tells tales to seek attention. I will teach you manners so that next time you have cause to speak with nobility you will be more polite.”
He began to dismount but Arell’s voice stilled him even as he moved. It carried, however faint, a tone of irritation.
“He’s right, Mecklem. Those are Chung warriors, and you know their reputation. It’s time to leave. We can send scouts later to see if the story about the Goblins is true.”
A look of profound worry came over her face as she said those last words and Talon’s heart skipped a beat. There was something very wrong here but there was no time to find out what it was. Nor was there time to wonder what a lord and lady were doing wondering about the Battlemark without guards.
Mecklem looked at the approaching warriors. He attempted to appear indifferent but Talon could see that for the first time he was growing uneasy. The Lady was smarter, and also, he judged intuitively, the braver of the two.
“Very well,” said Mecklem stiffly. “Let’s ride and see if the boy can keep up.”
Talon ground his teeth once more but kept silent. They had no way of knowing who he was, and regardless of whether he was of the nobility or a commoner he deserved greater respect. Couldn’t they see that he was telling the truth and trying to help? He couldn’t understand their reluctance to
take him at his word. Most of all he couldn’t understand Mecklem’s belligerence. No doubt the reasons would become clearer in the future, if they should even have a future. For the moment all that was meaningless. The only thing that counted now was bringing word of the army to Thromdar and ensuring Arell reached it safely. He wouldn’t like to see her suffer at the hands of his enemies or the Goblins, even if she did look down her nose at him.
They nudged their mounts into a full gallop. The sorrel had been through more than the other horses. He’d seen long weeks of travel on poor feed but he’d had a few moments rest and now he matched the others stride for stride.
They sped toward Thromdar, which was the only place that offered safety. Mecklem was on the left, the Lady Arell on the right and Talon rode up between them to the Lord’s obvious chagrin.
As they galloped Talon surreptitiously studied Arell’s face. It seemed flushed and he realized that some part of her was enjoying this. Slowly, beyond all the worry and fears he carried, beyond all his tiredness and responsibilities, he began to enjoy it too. If only she weren’t so arrogant! She was certainly a fine lady; intelligent, courageous and good looking. It was a hard combination to find. He brushed aside such thoughts though and turned his mind to the way ahead.
The sun wheeled higher in the sky and onward the horses raced and closing behind came the Chung. They were five strong but one was well in the lead and galloped at a pace the others couldn’t match.
The warrior came up close and drew his sword. It was a dao, the broad and slightly curved blade favored by many Chung. He would reach them very soon but Talon decided not to wait for that. It was an opportunity to act before the other Chung caught up.
Subtly he let the sorrel slow a little as though it had lost its wind and dropped back gradually until the Chung warrior drew up beside him. Mecklem and Arell glanced behind them as they rode.
Swiftly swords flickered out and steel clashed against steel. The flash of their blades was like lightning accompanied by the thundering of hooves in the steep sided valley.