The Warrior's Bane (War for the Quarterstar Shards Book 1)

by David L. McDaniel

  Gartan the Dark looked at Alaezdar and Morlonn sympathetically, turned abruptly and walked away in a great hurry to leave Alaezdar’s presence.

  “Now if that isn’t the best story I have heard yet,” Morlonn said and snickered.

  “I think we should protect ourselves,” Alaezdar said and stared at Morlonn seriously.

  “You’ve lost it, Alaezdar. Ah, never mind. You’re new here. After you hear a few more of these dark tales of false prophecy, you’ll catch on.”

  Alaezdar grabbed Morlonn’s arm as he turned to walk away and stared hard into his eyes. “He speaks the truth, Morlonn. Don’t ask me how I know, but I know! We should be worried.”

  “It can’t be true. Ever since we built the wall, the Goblin Tribes have never crossed the Sippling River, and they never will. For the most part, they are like snakes…they are more afraid of us than we are of them. Where are you from, anyway? Everyone knows that.”

  “I was raised in Hyronael. I know it is far removed from the Goblin Tribes, but I know that the Goblin Tribes cannot be trusted or expected to stay in any one place forever, and though they don’t like to leave their area, they are not afraid of us.”

  “Alaezdar, my friend, do not worry. Tomorrow we hunt, the day after that we fest for three days, and the Goblin tribes will not bother us.”

  Morlonn finished in such a determined voice that Alaezdar knew he could not convince his friend of the possible danger ahead, and he reluctantly let the matter drop. He knew that continuing the conversation could possible trigger in Morlonn a suspicion that Alaezdar was more than he claimed to be.

  Alaezdar knew that he had already said more than he wanted to by telling Morlonn where he had lived and his knowledge of the tribes. The only way to convince Morlonn of the truth would be to divulge his credentials and show how he knew what he knew. All he could do now was hope the Goblin Tribes did not attack Valewood, but if they did, he would have to do his best to defend the village.

  Chapter 5

  The boar came out from behind a cluster of overgrown ferns shrouded by white pine trees. Something had spooked him and he came charging out of the brush at full speed snorting and squealing. Alaezdar lifted his bow, aimed and released.

  The arrow hit the boar in the chest behind his left leg. He fell to the ground with no more than a short squeal.

  “I got him!” he yelled, happy with his shot.

  “Not even close, my friend,” Morlonn said from behind Alaezdar, startling him as he spoke. “Your shot was high and wide.”

  “Sorry, Morlonn the Hunter,” Alaezdar said, smiling as he mocked him by emphasizing the words the Hunter. “I saw him first, fired, and got him, plain and simple. And fact.”

  “Come with me, my friend, and I will prove to you whose shot was the deadly one.”

  They walked to the dead boar and stood over its hairy body. He was a stout boar and would provide plenty of pork for the feast.

  “My arrows,” Morlonn said and began staring at Alaezdar with his best I got you look. He withdrew the arrow with a tug, wiped the blood off the arrowhead, and showed Alaezdar the black diamond tip. Alaezdar looked at the arrow blankly and said nothing as his friend wiped down the whole arrow and returned it to its quiver.

  “Maybe next time. Let’s find the others so we can clean and pack the boar. Then we can start the drinking.”

  Alaezdar, Morlonn, Rivlok, Tharn and Kunther all gathered shortly thereafter, cleaned the boar and set up their camp in a small clearing surrounded by the thick forest trees. They built a fire, more for light, than for heat because the early Doreal evenings were often warm and dry. They sat down around the fire as Morlonn broke out one of the many flasks they’d brought of ale and mead.

  “Do you always celebrate the kill of the boar by spending the night in the woods drinking?” Alaezdar asked.

  Morlonn laughed, but Tharn answered before anyone else.

  “These boys like to drink. All they need is an excuse. Morlonn here works hard for us, so we let him hunt the boar and take us for an adventure in these woods. No one knows the outlying area better than he does.”

  “I find solace in the woods,” Morlonn admitted. “I love to hunt, but I love being alone out here. But even more, I love being out here with friends drinking!” he said as he took the first swig from the bag of mead and passed it to Alaezdar.

  After an hour of small conversation, they sat quietly for a few moments, watching the smoke drift into the sky from their crackling fire.

  Morlonn broke their silence. “So, Alaezdar, during your travels you said you have seen the Watchers Guild, but have you seen any elves?” he asked, not really probing him for information, but more giving him a sarcastic ribbing.

  “I have seen them a few times,” he admitted, lying about the frequency. Not only had he seen elves, but also during his time with the Rager’s he had both fought with and killed elves many times. He feared they would ask more probing questions, so he decided to give them some information that would defer them from asking more.

  “Did you know that there are different types of elves?”

  Their silence on the matter told him he was about to keep them interested long enough to give them something new and keep the placated from asking him anything else for a while.

  “There are the Val elves and the Sor Elves. The Val Elves are aggressive and have very little magic ability, usually Wrae magic, but the Sor Elves are pure elves who live peacefully and have learned how to use the magic from the land, called Kronn.”

  “You mean there really is magic in the land?” Kunther asked, showing great interest.

  “Very much so. In fact, it is much more complicated than just the ability to use magic because it gets into their religion, their gods and their belief system. As far as the magic is concerned, my father, a wizard, can control both types of magic, I am told. He supposedly can master both Wrae and Kronn, and as far as I know, he is the only human who can control both. Many Sor elves can control both, but not very well, and no Val Elves are known to be able to use Kronn. However, the use of Kronn is dwindling, as magic in the realm overall seems to be fading.”

  “Do the elves ever fight each other with opposing magic? Kunther asked. “I mean, I have heard that there is magic, but I didn’t really believe it, and I had no idea there were different kinds.”

  “No, not that I know of. The elves have long since joined and have almost blended. Long ago the Val Elves lived just on the other side of the Goblin Ridge Mountains, but the goblins chased them away and they found a home up north with the Sor Elves, where they found a way to live in harmony, blending their differences. But during the Human-Elf war, the elves moved to Lake Quarterstar where both tribes live together. Though sometimes I hear they have internal struggles, because the Sor elves are pure and expect their leaders to be pure of elven heart, but the Val Elves just want to advance their cause. It is actually even more complicated than that, because they actually have two different gods that they worship, but they have learned to accept each other’s theological differences. Mostly, they now work together to preserve their magic, but even they know it is weakening. They believe that the extended Markenhirth periods have everything to do with the weakening of the magic.”

  “How do you know so much, Alaezdar?” Kunther asked, wide-eyed with fascination.

  Alaezdar swallowed hard. He had begun to speak too much, but it felt good to explain what he knew about the realm. He was surprised that these people knew so little, except maybe for Tharn, and he was obviously purposely silent during Alaezdar’s explanation.

  “My father beat all that history into me at a young age. There is no way I could forget any of it.”

  “Did he teach you
any tricks, Alaezdar?” Kunther asked and looked at him as if he were an overachieving schoolboy.

  Alaezdar smiled genuinely and told the truth.

  “Oh, yeah, lots of times, but I was horrible at it, and I fought him around every corner. The last thing I wanted was to be known as a freak going around the realm using magic at all those freak shows. I did not want people thinking of me of as a man who is laughed at like your friend Gartan the Dark. So, for my disobedience he beat me when I refused, and I gladly accepted the trade off.”

  “You got beat, did you?” Rivlok finally spoke up after taking a swig of the mead and passing it to Tharn.

  “At least every day that I refused my lessons.”

  “Did he pound you with a fireball or something?” he asked and smirking to himself.

  “No, he would never do that. He had too much respect for the magic. If he is one thing, he is loyal to the land and the magic that produces it.”

  “Then magic comes from the land?” Morlonn asked.

  “Kronn does, but Wrae is mostly a learned talent. He could do both. It was pretty amazing what he could do by using both simultaneously. Morlonn, my father would like you. You find solstice in the woods. He might even be able to teach you simple magic, like how to work the plants, herbs and even the stones from the land to do almost anything from healing to making weapons to calling animals. As much as I hated it, it was fascinating to watch him do what he did. When I saw him, that is.”

  “You told us that your father left you. Now I think I know why I would too if I were him,” Rivlok said, smiling.

  Alaezdar looked at Rivlok and saw his cocky smile in the firelight. He knew his type. It annoyed him, but he didn’t let it show.

  “Yeah, once he realized that I would not be his apprentice, he left to do his business in the Northern Kingdoms. He had thought to take me, but when I showed absolutely no interest, he just left and had me live with my cousins.”

  “I don’t think I would’ve turned away the chance to learn the magic of the land,” Kunther mused.

  “Yeah, well, maybe sometimes I do regret it somewhat, but when I think long and hard about it, no, not really.”

  “Morlonn, we need another flask,” Rivlok said. He needed to change the subject. He was getting tired of all of the attention Alaezdar was getting.

  As dusk gave way to nightfall, so too did their soberness and the five men laughed and chided each other as the night wore on. Morlonn teased Alaezdar off and on throughout the evening about his missed shot. Alaezdar took it well, but wished he could have something on Morlonn to come back with. Instead, he turned to Rivlok for some gossip and revelation.

  “So where did you and Aaelie go yesterday?” Alaezdar asked. He knew he would hit a nerve.

  “To the woods. You saw us,” Rivlok said and took a swig from the leather bag. “And it is no concern to you what Aaelie and I do, or where we go,”

  “I was just curious. I thought maybe there was something special by the river that I didn’t know about.”

  “Well, there is something special by the river, and it’s for Aaelie and me to share, so it would be wise for you to butt out.”

  “Sorry,” Alaezdar said, not surprised by the attack.

  “Alaezdar,” Tharn began. “Rivlok and Aaelie have been together ever since they were little kids, and our young friend here always gets a little protective when it comes to his girlfriend Aaelie.”

  “I think she has some feelings that are changing,” Kunther added coming into the conversation for the first time after waking up from a drunken stupor.

  “He’s alive!” Morlonn announced loudly.

  The others looked at the just awakened Kunther and laughed.

  “Go back to sleep, you fool,” Morlonn said.

  “No,” Kunther insisted. “Aaelie asked me the other day if Alaezdar was fond of her.”

  The others looked at Kunther in surprise, and then watched him as he got up and ran to the trees to vomit.

  “That’s all changing, though, back to the way it’s supposed to be,” Rivlok defended himself. “Aaelie loves me and no one else.”

  Rivlok then stood up and went to the trees to relieve himself both physically and of the stress of the conversation.

  “Don’t worry about him, Alaezdar,” Morlonn said, looking into the fire as it crackled before him. “Aaelie and Rivlok have been close almost all their lives, just as Tharn had said, but they have been through some rough times together, as well. I think they are beginning to grow apart and their relationship has changed to almost sibling-like.”

  “I understand. I am a bit fond of Aaelie, but I don’t want to disrupt their relationship.”

  “Relationship?” Morlonn quizzed. “Their relationship has been off and on ever since that foul wizard Torz came here.”

  “Torz?” Alaezdar said almost too loudly and with too much excitement from the shock of hearing such a familiar name. Alaezdar caught himself and looked around, but the others were just drunk enough not to have noticed his surprise.

  “Yeah, a few years ago,” Morlonn said, “he and his followers came to Valewood and bullied a few villagers out of their homes. They were rude, but surprisingly did no harm to anyone or their property. They just wanted a place to sleep. Tharn knew Torz, I think. Anyhow, Tharn was able to convince him to leave us alone somehow, because the next morning they left and he hasn’t been back since. The real problem, though, came later that evening when a mercenary group came chasing after the wizards. They called themselves the Rager’s Swords, I think...”

  “The Rager’s House of Renegades,” Alaezdar interjected without hesitation.

  Morlonn looked up at Alaezdar, shocked by the quick correction.

  “Yeah,” he said, and then continued. “Anyway, one of the men grabbed Aaelie and attempted to take her for his own, but Aaelie’s father stepped in and attacked the man with his sword. Aaelie broke free during the attack and ran to find Rivlok. Rivlok came running, but stopped short when he saw the two men locked in combat. Aaelie yelled for him to do something, and Rivlok hesitated, although he did finally take his knife and run toward the two men. Ironically, all he did was distract Aaelie’s father long enough for the mercenary to cut him down. Aaelie was irate and blamed Rivlok for her father’s death. Rivlok contends that even if he hadn’t jumped in, and had stayed out of the fight, Aaelie’s father would still be dead.”

  Morlonn stopped and stared back into the fire before he continued.“So you can see why they are having problems. It took Aaelie a while to let go of her anger toward Rivlok. Not just for letting her father die, but later for not avenging his death. Rivlok often has to defend himself against Aaelie’s attacks, but worse yet, he condemns himself for being part of her father’s death. I think they have worked through a lot of their problems of late, though.”

  “I believe they both still hurt deeply, though,” Tharn added. “Whenever they fight, Aaelie brings it up to wound his heart...”

  “And she does it quite a bit, and she doesn’t care where they are. Public places aren’t off limits when she fights,” Morlonn added.

  Alaezdar nodded. He understood, and he laid back and looked into the stars above him. The others saw him move and slowly began to ready themselves for the night, as well, while Rivlok stood just outside the reaches of the firelight. He had been listening to the whole conversation and he stared blankly at Alaezdar with clenched fists.

  Chapter 6

  Once a year, during the transition from the end of the hot season of Flamespan to the coming of the Doreal and the harvest season, the small village community of Valewood became a center of excitement and bustling energy. The fields, once full of the diligent l
abor that would determine the success or failure of the whole year, became silent and were left alone to stand while the village shifted their efforts from the fields to the construction of the annual harvest festival.

  Throughout the village, bright colored tents and tall banners surrounded the main center. The banners displayed the markings of all of the kingdoms of Wrae-Kronn in order to welcome all the representatives from those kingdoms who would arrive in the splendor and grace of their home kingdoms. Also in attendance were the surrounding Valeland communities that had spent the whole year producing crops for all of Wrae-Kronn. They all migrated to Valewood, as it was now the center of importance in all the Valeland communities. The representatives from all the kingdoms partook in the Fifth of Doreal celebration in the Valeland communities and bargained for the best prices for the newly harvested crops and anything in the market was available for its best price, too, through the beginning of the next year. The Valelanders competed amongst other villages to get the business from all the other kingdoms.

  The crop owners ran each tent and displayed the fruits of their hard work. Some tents had not just food, but other wares created in the Valelands, such as glass blown items and handcrafted clothing made with intricate detail by the wives and children of the farmers. There were even tents displaying weapons created by the local sword and bow maker’s guilds.

  The villagers catered to the guests with free samples of their products as they tried to obtain the visitors’ permanent business, and those representatives took advantage of their catering by promising the merchants to purchase their product, but they often remarked that they must first keep an open mind to other markets. In exchange, the representatives brought down items that many of the Valelanders enjoyed, such as the black arrowheads that Morlonn used.