“We retreat then.” Sidion said once more as the men began heading back the way they came.
“I cannot decide who is more incompetent, yourself or that wretched Sidion.” Omni bellowed. “How could you let four commanders under your authority leave unscathed?”
“Three left unscathed. One is dead.” Trudor replied tersely.
“Do not mock me human.” Omni stood up from his seat and rose to his full imposing height. He towered above Trudor and yet Trudor was no man of average height.
“You will do as I say or else...”
“Or else what? You’ll kill me? You’ll kill my family? You’ll massacre Angweleth? I have no such fear or bonds the way Sidion does.”
The most powerful principal of the dragol rushed towards Trudor and grabbed him by the torso. Omni’s hands wrapped around Trudor’s ribs and lifted him up as though he had no weight to him, slamming him into the wall. He held the Angwelethean soldier at a daunting height above the ground. Despite what had just happened, Trudor remained calm.
“You could have killed me now Omni. Why didn’t you?”
The principal growled. “Who is to say I won’t?”
“Me. I’ll tell you why. I am well aware that you and your kind can only enter our realm for short periods of time due to a curse... A cursed placed by Rikard Miljorn.”
At the pronunciation of his name, Omni growled even more fiercely.
“A name you detest I see. No matter. If you kill me now, the soldiers are on orders to kill any dragol seen entering our realm from Angweleth and to put up the first line of resistance once... if the gauntlet of Feona were ever uncoiled.”
“How have you come about this information?”
“Through my own means. King Sidion would never entrust me with this himself. He is a careful man as he should be. After all, he knows the danger of courting a traitor in his house.”
“My army will overrun Angweleth in as much time as it takes you to breathe.”
“Not if Angweleth is already allied with the other kingdoms. You need a place to begin your quest against the humans. Where else would you rather emerge?”
Omni let go of Trudor, who promptly dropped to the ground. He got to his feet after catching his breath.
“Your usefulness will be no more once the spell is lifted. You have merely bought yourself some time. Once Davydd finds the gauntlet and uncoils it, your life is forfeit.”
Trudor laughed out loud. “You now hope for Rikard’s son to find the gauntlet? You do not trust Sidion?”
“I trust no human.”
“Then know this. As long as a human such as me has the heart of a principal, you will never truly rule Terrianus. This is a pact we have and you are neither my lord nor master. In the aftermath of your crusade, I want what Sidion wanted. To rule alongside the principals and be master of worlds... and I shall have it.”
Omni glared at Trudor in silence.
“The great Omni the manipulator is at a loss for words.”n
“No. I only look at you in amusement. Davydd Miljorn started out as a nuisance. Now five moons later, a brother of mine is dead and he has an army. He has an army taken from your brothers. Pray your plans go according to plan human. Pray you do not blink for if you do, death will be the least of your concerns.” And with that, Omni was gone from the room, leaving Trudor to contemplate his last words.
Davydd flipped over the blade that threatened to separate his torso from his waist. He landed on the other side and brought up Balek’s sword to block Lady Lynda’s second swing. His right hand wielded his standard blade, which he used to parry her left-handed attack. Before he could react, he felt the force of her kick to his mid-section which sent him flying through the air. Davydd arched backwards in midair and plunged his blades into the wooden floor beneath them, stopping his motion and landing on his feet once more. Lynda was already upon him, but Davydd ripped his swords out of the ground, sending splinters of wood in her direction. It was only a momentary distraction, but it was enough to allow him arch backwards low enough to avoid the crisscrossing swipe of both her swords in scissor-like fashion. Using his leg strength, he parried her swords out of the way and made to hop-skip to her side. However, Lynda was already upon him again and he had to side step a downward slash from her right blade. It shimmered in the darkened room, its bluish light pulsating as it hit the ground. Davydd swung with his right blade at Lynda’s torso but missed entirely. She was off the ground and in the air. She pivoted and spun with her blades extended and spinning with her in a windmill motion. Davydd kept his eyes focused on her motion and reacted just in time to block one of the blades as it passed through in an arch that would have split his skull vertically in half. He fell on his back as Lynda came down with both blades pointed at his chest. Davydd lashed out with his legs and caught her in the mid-section, pushing her up and over him. She fell on her back as well. Davydd sprang up to his feet at the same time as she did and they both attacked and defended equally with their dual-wielding techniques. Davydd twirled his sword in his right hand between attack and defense, with the sword making a swooshing sound as it spun menacingly in an arching motion beside him. He attacked Lynda again. Clang. She had blocked and countered. Clang. He had done the same. Whoosh! Whoosh! It was the sound of his swords twirling in between each clash. However, the twirling wasn’t just an aesthetic habit he’d developed. If Lynda came close enough, each arbitrary twirl would evolve into a lethal swing and she knew it. She had fought an all too familiar technique long before. He was getting faster, stronger each day they dueled and his technique, once rough and unpolished, was now fluid and assured. Up on the balcony, two men watched the mother and son duel.
“Nostalgic isn’t it?” Matilom asked, turning to the Baximus who was watching intently.
“What is? That he twirls his sword like his father or that he wields two swords like his mother?”
Matilom shrugged.
“Both I suppose.”
“They say one’s abilities are in the blood.”
“Indeed. Is there anyone with the ability to find a pirate?”
“You could Matilom. Or she could.” Baximus jutted his jaw out towards Lynda who was evading successive swipes from Davydd. She ducked under a sideways slash from his right sword and spun around while crouched, with her leg extended. Davydd could not react in time. Both his legs were swept off the floor. Davydd landed on his back and instinctively rolled to his left, while positioning his right sword behind his back so that Lynda could not take advantage of the opening. As he finished his roll over his belly he whipped out with his left hand. However Lynda was not there. He felt the sharp metal blade behind him and stopped rolling. Davydd looked behind him to see Lynda. There was a white shimmering tear closing behind her.
“You lose.” She said.
“You cheated mother.” Davydd said as he got up to his feet. “‘No godly powers’ was the agreement.” He was panting and sweating profusely.
“I know. It was the only way I could end this duel.”
“You mean you could not defeat me any other way.”
“I mean you have improved greatly. But you don’t know your own strength and as such, you don’t know your own limits. How long do you think we have been dueling?”
It was then Davydd realized he could not remember when they started. He was surprised at being able to fight for so long without feeling the effects of waning strength, though he was now. But that was not all. What truly amazed him was in all that time, he had not been able penetrate Lynda’s defense, not once. Yet there were a few moments he was sure she could have taken advantage. They were only a few, yet they stuck out like glaring holes to him. Was this what it felt like to fight with a god? Was this what it felt like to fight with an uninjured principal? The thought made him shudder.
“Get some rest and replenish your strength.” Lynda said as she walked out of the training room and through the hallways. “We will duel later on.”
Davydd sighed and looked around him. The trai
ning room was not really a training room as it was a prayer room for the monks of the shrine they were in. The floor was made of mahogany wood, divided in thin long planks. The balcony upper level, which spanned around the entire rectangular room, was also made of the same wood, as well as the repeating half pillar supports that held up the balcony and fastened it to the cream colored brick wall. The dome shaped ceiling was made of stained glass paintings that depicted the many feats of the goddess Lynda and her siblings. Davydd smiled at the irony. In a hundred years he wondered if they would need new stained glass paintings.
“Davydd.” Baximus called. “We have matters to discuss.”
Davydd nodded and headed towards the hallway Lynda had gone through moments earlier. He had not gone far into it, when he turned right and walked up a set of winding stairs that led to the upper balcony level. He finally got to where Baximus and Matilom stood awaiting him.
“What is it?” Davydd asked.
“As you know, we have searched for Ivan everywhere we can. Right now, Leo, Sam and Max are on their third visit to Sangwa. Luck has not been kind to them. What shall we do?”
Davydd kept quiet for a while. This was the fourth time he had been asked this question.
What shall we do?
He had always responded with the Keep looking answer. However, something told him such an answer would not suffice this time around. The truth was he still was not used to strategizing or giving out orders.
“This is frustrating... on the one hand, we can easily find him if my mother would only lend us her powers.”
“She would not interfere unless...”
“In dire circumstances.” Davydd finished Matilom’s sentence. “I am well aware. What could be direr than saving a child in trouble?” Davydd gasped as he finished his sentence.
“That’s it!” he half yelled.
“What is it?” Baximus asked.
Davydd looked at Baximus and Matilom.
“The archer... Kazan? Did he not say he was son of Ivan the terrible?”
“He did, which is why we have kept him alive to make a trade in case Ivan has the gauntlet.”
“Ivan has the gauntlet and we need to let Kazan go.”
“And why would we do that?”
“Because Ivan would never reveal himself for fear of losing the gauntlet and he would never sail into deep waters for fear of losing Kazan. However, if Kazan were to turn up in Sangwa...”
“The balance is tipped in our favor.” Matilom smiled. “Why didn’t I think of this earlier?” He asked looking at Baximus.
“You are old. Very old.” Baximus responded as they both turned around, following Davydd out of the balcony. They walked down the winding flight of stairs and back into the hallway, turning right towards an exit which led into the shrine’s rather large courtyard. At the edge of the courtyard, chained by his right foot to a heavy metal ball, sat Kazan. He slowly lifted up his head to look at Davydd, Baximus and Matilom.
“Has luck smiled on you yet?” He asked mockingly. Reading the looks on their faces, he chuckled. “It would seem the answer is ‘no’”. At this, Davydd dropped down into a crouching position and stared at Kazan.
“Luck does not smile on you either. It has been decided that you’ve outlived your usefulness. You will be executed at the first crack of dawn tomorrow.”
“Executed? You wouldn’t dare!! You need me to strike a deal with my father!”
“I do not intend to strike any deals. I merely seek to recover that which rightfully belongs to me. And I shall do so by force if need be. You serve no purpose alive, but at least the sight of your body will draw his ire. Enjoy what little time you have left.” With that, Davydd, Baximus and Matilom walked off.
“Wait! You cannot do this! Wait!! No!!!!”
Kazan struggled with his chains in futility. All this time, he had placed his hopes in the knowledge that they needed him alive to lure out his father. He never thought that Davydd could come up with such a sinister plan either. Kazan gave up on the chains and sat still, his mind racing, trying to come up with a way to buy himself more time.
Davydd had already continued on his way to the main prayer room on the other side of the courtyard. Instead of being constructed predominantly out of mahogany wood, this room was made out of concrete. It was enormous. It had three rows of four columns that reached all the way to the ceiling, which was flat instead of dome shaped. From Davydd’s perspective as he entered the room, the wall to the right was lined with oval shaped windows, spaced at consistent intervals while the wall on the left had board paintings hung on them. Each board painting seemed to tell a story. Davydd stopped at a painting depicting a man in golden armor wielding a sword of medium length, against what looked to be a dragol. The dragol had wings, just like Balek.
“That particular painting is in every king’s castle in Terrianus... except maybe in the one castle it is meant to be in. Castle Alvo.”
Davydd looked to see that it was Vera, the high priestess of the shrine’s order of monks, The Order of Beatha. Vera was a fair-skinned woman with an off white hair color. Her hair was curly and part of it was braided at the sides. The braids fell to the side of her face, just past her jaw line, while the rest of her hair curled and rolled over itself down to her neck. Her eyes were glassy in appearance and almost white all through, except for a little darkening where the pupils should have been. It had been explained that she was born blind. She wore a long flowing dark blue gown and a green scarf wrapped around her neck.
“I wonder if the artist sufficiently captured his image. How is it that you knew what painting I gazed upon?” Davydd asked.
Vera laughed.
“I am blind to but one aspect of reality Davydd. I still see you clearly. As clearly as I can tell where I stand in this shrine so that I know exactly what painting you were looking at. These paintings are more about the legacy of person than of the person. If you want to know what your father looked like, all you have to do is look at yourself and within yourself.”
Davydd looked at her in shock.
“How... how did you?”
“The air smells different.”
“The air...”
Vera shrugged. Davydd turned around and walked towards and empty board at the end of the wall. It had no painting on it.
“The story for that is yet to be written.” Vera said, almost reading his mind.
“Did all the others begin like that?”
Vera nodded.
“So you have no idea how this story will play out then.”
“That board is actually the oldest of all the ones you see. Before my mother died, she told me about a prophecy passed down for generations to all the high priestesses of the order of Beatha.”
“What prophecy?”
“That the world as we know it will come to the edge of complete chaos and damnation, and one man’s decision will decide all our fates... gods, humans and dragol.”
“One man.” Davydd laughed.
“Indeed. This man will wield in his hands the power of life, and the power of death.” Vera turned to him. If Davydd did not know better, he would have said something about her staring so intently at him. Vera smiled. “But you didn’t come here to discuss old myths and paintings with me now did you?”
“I apologize for taking up your time.” Davydd said, catching himself. “You have been more than kind to us. Sometimes I wonder why.”
“No need to. I know exactly who I am in the presence of. I would never deny aid to my goddess or her offspring. What is it you need?”
“Tonight, I would like for one of your brothers or sisters in the order, to set the prisoner free.”
“I have no right to ask, as he is not a prisoner of ours, but... why?”
“Sometimes it is wiser to let the fawn go, so as to lead you to the deer.”
Vera smiled sheepishly. “Well then. Let the hunt begin.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Wraiths at Dawn
The night was a cold one. Kazan
balled himself together as much as possible to keep warm. He wished the night would stretch out for as long as possible. He even wished for dawn not to come, for the sunrise meant the sunset on his life. He’d had time to reflect on his life, though he had fought that with all his might. What good was it getting depressed before his impending death. He’d lived as good a life as he could ever hope for. He’d sailed with his father across the oceans since he could remember. They’d discovered lands as yet unknown to all the empires. Together, they had been on more adventures than others would experience in fifty life times. No, he had little to regret but one. He would never be pirate king. A sound, barely audible, shook Kazan from his thoughts. Kazan sprang forward and made an attempt to move until the tug of the chain on his right ankle, reminded him of the dead weight that kept him in place. Out of the corner of his eye, Kazan caught sight of a figure moving from pillar to pillar. The figure was cloaked in black garments.
“Who goes there?!!” Kazan yelled. “Have you come to ridicule me before sending me to the beyond?!”
The figure suddenly rushed towards Kazan and covered his mouth before he could yell some more. The hands were as slender and soft as that of a woman’s. Kazan caught sight of the cloaked figure’s face. He rested on the glassy eyes. It was the lady they called Vera.
“You...”
“Be still and silent.” Vera said brandishing a key. “If you want my setting you free to not be in vain.”
“And why would you help me? You shelter and feed my captors.”
“Despite that truth, I did not foresee you being treated so cruelly.” Vera unlocked the metal band around his ankle that was attached to the chain. Kazan looked down at his leg in disbelief. He was free? He was free.
“You don’t have much time.” Vera said. She pointed towards the huge twin doors to the right side of the courtyard and they ran towards them. Vera rotated the long wooden latch that held both doors together, upwards and pushed them open.
“Go!”
They could hear voices behind them.
What’s going on out there! Someone’s letting the prisoner escape!
Metal and Magic: A Fantasy Journey Page 83