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

by David L. McDaniel

  “You can’t do that!” Kunther objected. “You said that they want to kill you!”

  “Yes, they do, and they most likely will. It is okay. I am ready. I am tired of running. If nothing else, you guys have shown me what a normal life should be like. I have never had that. My life has been chaos ever since I was a boy, back when my mother was killed by the wizard Torz, and my father, also a wizard, left me as an orphan.”

  “I won’t do it. You belong with us now, you are part of us, and we will help you,” Kunther said.

  “You will die trying. I keep telling you all, the life I have lived is so very different from the one you live. These people are ruthless and have no feelings or care for you and your life.”

  “Won’t they kill me on the spot, as you say, since I know your true identity?” Kunther asked.

  “That’s right,” Rivlok interrupted. “What you are telling us is flawed. If they are so ruthless, what is stopping them from killing Kunther right then and there as he stands?”

  “No. Again, Rivlok, I am telling you, you do not know these people like I do. Yes, I did tell you that they will kill anyone just for breathing our identity, but Kunther has information that is more important to them than his life…. my whereabouts. That will be his key to everything they want right now. In fact, it is most likely the very most important thing on their agenda right now, and that will be Kunther’s greatest asset in keeping him alive.”

  “I still won’t do it. I want to go with you,” Kunther pleaded, like a child wanting a treat from his mother.

  “You must, or you will stay here. Besides, it is more important to our lives that you go. Like it or not, they are the only people who can help us. Other mercenary guilds will want more money than we can offer, especially now that Valewood will need all its available resources to rebuild.”

  “How will I pay?” Kunther asked reluctantly after giving in to the argument. His face showed the sad realization that he wasn’t going to be chasing after Aaelie with the men he looked up to.

  “My name and location will be all you will need. That will be the only payment that will satisfy them anyhow, and it will be more than enough to save your life, as well as hold something over them. But be careful, that could also be very dangerous information for you. Hold our whereabouts tightly to your chest, for once they are done with you, they will kill you. As soon as you have led them to the Goblin Tribes Forest, you must escape.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Again, for your safety. You know my name, and they do not want you to know it.”

  Kunther felt dejected, but knew what Alaezdar was asking was important or he would not have asked him. Still, he could not help but plead one last time to go with them.

  “Since I can’t go with you, I want to ride with them until I find you.”

  “No, you don’t. We most likely will not survive this quest. If we have any chance of surviving, it is because the Ragers will bring their experience and numbers, but when they have me, they will kill you because of me. You must not ride with them much past the Sippling River.”

  “Then I will leave right now,” he said. He’d finally realized the importance of his mission.

  “No, not yet. Pack up, find the fastest horse in the village, rest up for a few hours, then go. You will leave before us because you will need the head start.”

  “I will,” Kunther said and turned around and ran back home to get ready for the most important and life changing event in his life.

  Chapter 12

  Kunther awoke after two hours of fitful and restless sleep. He wanted more, but he could not rest with the anticipation of his mission upon his shoulders. He tossed and turned, and if he fell asleep, he would only awaken ten minutes later. He did this many times until he eventually gave up trying.

  Before lying down he had done as Alaezdar had suggested and found Tharn’s fastest and strongest horse and packed her up. She was obediently standing right where he left her when he awoke. He went outside and mounted her and saw the early Doreal evening had an empty darkness about it. The night air was very dark and chilly and the village still reeked of smoke from the smoldering fires, so much so that it created an eerie haze as he sat on the horse pondering the trek in front of him. He was about to nudge his horse forward when he saw a figure walk out of the smoky haze at the end of the road.

  “You are leaving too soon,” Alaezdar said as he approached the young man.

  “I can’t help it. I can’t sleep,” he said

  “Just as well. Neither can I. You might as well leave now, but you need to go and go quickly. Do you have a sword?’ he asked.

  Kunther smiled and withdrew his sword from the scabbard strapped onto the barrel of the horse’s left side.

  “I have Straight Edge,” he said with a proud smile and handed it hilt first to Alaezdar.

  Alaezdar took the sword and felt its weight and balance while swinging it from left to right, then down and up. Taking it with both hands, he throttled the hilt. He could tell even in the dark by the feel of it that it was not a work of beauty and was actually quite crude, but the weight was right and he knew that Rankin had made the sword and it was a worthy blade. The sword would be effective in battle in the right hands. Unfortunately, he feared that Kunther lacked much experience and he might be sending him to his death along with the others.

  “Remember and do exactly as I have told you,” Alaezdar said and handed the blade back to Kunther hilt first. “Talk only to Commander Carsti Balron and no one else. They will try to get information out of you, but be vigilant and confident. You must speak only to Carsti Balron.”

  Kunther agreed as he centered his horse from straying sideways.

  “Thank you, Alaezdar.”

  “For what?”

  “Having faith in me. I know this isn’t what I initially wanted to do, but I do realize that this is vital to getting Aaelie back alive.”

  “You’re right. We are counting on you.”

  Kunther nodded to Alaezdar and then kicked his horse and raced off down the road out of Valewood towards Daevanwood. Alaezdar turned around and started running back to Tharn’s farm, where the others would soon be heading. His thoughts were on Kunther and his meeting with Commander Carsti Balron and he wondered again if he might be sending Kunther to his early death.

  Or, was he prolonging his life by not allowing him to go into the Goblin Tribes forest. He knew Carsti Balron, out of all his faults, to be a fair man and a good leader. Although he was a ruthless and shrewd man, he would listen to reason when it was presented to him properly. He just hoped Kunther would be wise enough to give him good reason at the onset to let him live to tell the tale of where Rock Blade would be.

  He ran quickly along, thinking these thoughts, until he saw Tharn’s farm just as a tint of sunlight began to creep up over the horizon.

  When he got back to the farm, he found, not surprisingly, that Tharn was already awake and packing up all of the horses for their trek. Without a word Alaezdar helped Tharn finish packing their supplies, and just as they had finished, Rivlok came with his horse pack over his shoulder, dressed in a still dusty suit of leather armor.

  “Where did you find that old thing?” Alaezdar asked.

  “I bought it, why?” Rivlok responded in a terse voice.

  “No reason, really, other than I haven’t seen armor like that in years. It looks like armor from the Korlond Empire.”

  Rivlok smiled and then quickly took the smile away. “Well, it may be. I don’t really know, but it is better than nothing.”

  “I agree. You are right, but I have something a little more current and efficient. After we last spoke, I went to Rankin and Kord
, the leather-smith, and asked them to come up with some swords, shields, breastplates and arm guards for all of us. Before we leave, we need to go over and pick them up. I am sure he is still working on them. We didn’t give him much time to make them perfectly efficient, but with a little luck they might stop arrows.”

  “Why don’t you go pick them up now?” Tharn suggested. “I will get some food and torch supplies and then meet you there.”

  Alaezdar agreed, and he and Rivlok mounted their horses, ponied two more horses and then headed to the smithy shop. On the way they stopped at Morlonn’s house and found him standing outside of his partially burned home. They gave him a horse and proceeded on to find Rankin and Kord, who were finishing their final preparations, but they had most everything ready.

  “I have all of the breastplates, shin and shoulder guards, daggers and swords all done,” Rankin said as he wiped the sweat off his gray eyebrows with his blistered hands. “Some of these I already had in the back room just collecting dust. Kord is just finishing up with the last scabbard.”

  Alaezdar picked up a breastplate and inspected it. He looked at the front side and turned it quickly to look at the backside.

  “Quick work,” Alaezdar stated bluntly, neither complimenting nor criticizing the work.

  “I did what I could with such short notice,” Rankin defended.

  Alaezdar continued to examine the breastplate and did not look up.

  “Understood, but these breastplates are too heavy and will limit movement. I just hope we don’t get into any hand to hand combat.” Alaezdar paused and looked to Rankin. “The gronts may be short and stocky, but they are very maneuverable when locked in hand to hand combat.”

  “It is all I have,” Rankin once again defended himself.

  “I have more scabbards and leather leggings,” Kord said as he entered from the back room. Alaezdar turned to Kord and put down the breastplate.

  “Do you have any scrap pieces of leather to use as breastplates?”

  “I can make some.”

  “Do it. Just make them one sheet thick and use two leather straps as ties. Simple, but light weight, and effective for what we will be against.” Alaezdar turned to Rankin and put his hand on his shoulder. “We will need the breastplates, and we will be taking them. Thank you. You did great with all these, especially on such short notice.”

  Alaezdar, Tharn, Rivlok and Morlonn did not have to wait long for Kord to finish the breastplates, put them on and make a few minor adjustments. They packed the rest of the armor, shields, and daggers onto the spare horse and were soon on their way.

  Within minutes they were crossing the Sippling River not far from the spot where Alaezdar and Aaelie had last spoken. The sun had just crested over the Goblin Ridge Mountains, finally bringing in the early Doreal warmth with the morning’s sunrise. They rode for six hours before their first stop. Morlonn found evidence of broken branches from what looked to be someone being dragged in the dirt, but soon he lost that trail just as if it had magically disappeared in front of him.

  They decided to break up into groups of two’s and continue in a diagonal sweeping pattern and crossing back every half mile to try to get the trail back, but after a few hours they gave up. Alaezdar called everyone together, dismounted his horse and asked the others to do the same. Rivlok jumped off his horse and charged towards Alaezdar. He was clearly frustrated with their slow progress.

  “Why are we stopping now? I don’t understand. Ever since we decided to go with you, you have done everything possible to slow us down!” Rivlok shouted.

  “Back off, Rivlok!” Alaezdar said and jumped in front of Rivlok’s face, shutting him up.

  “Morlonn,” Alaezdar said, “Any new signs yet?” He turned away from Rivlok and left him alone brewing in his anger with his fists clenched tightly.

  Morlonn walked up to Alaezdar and looked ahead of them.

  “Nothing yet.”

  “I want you to lead from here on. Go up a few hundred yards in front of us, if you need. Rivlok, I want you to ride with Morlonn. Tharn and I will follow from the rear. Ride towards the Goblin Ridge Mountains, stop if you find their trail and wait for instructions once Tharn and I catch up to you. If you don’t find their trail, continue on to the Vixtaevus Gap. I am sure we will find their trail there, as there is no way around for hundreds of miles but through the pass. Once you get there, stop and wait for us. Under no circumstances do you cross into the gap without us.”

  “The Death Pass?” Tharn asked.

  “It is the quickest and only route into the Goblin Tribes Forest. I don’t know why they have Aaelie, but I am sure that they are in a hurry to take here there.”

  “Surely, we aren’t going to walk right through the Death Pass and not expect to get attacked?” Morlonn asked, showing a little fear in his voice for the first time.

  Alaezdar mounted his horse.

  “No, I am not expecting that. In fact, I am expecting to catch them before the Death Pass, but if we don’t make it in time, we will have to cross the pass and I fully expect to be attacked, but we will be prepared,” he said and pointed to the packhorse. “We will be wearing our iron breastplates, and we will -- cautiously and very quickly, I might add -- be moving through the pass. Whatever will be waiting for us there, goblin, ogre, gront or chrok, will have to have a keen eye to see us.”

  “They will most likely be waiting for us if these gronts know that we’re following them.”

  “I am sure they would inform their own kind of such things,” Tharn added and he too mounted his horse.

  “Not necessarily,

  Alaezdar said. “The Goblin tribes don’t always communicate with each other because they are often fighting each other, so Fyaa and hers may have to fight their way past as well.”

  “Then let’s go!” an impatient Rivlok shouted as he mounted his horse and rode to the front, expecting the others to follow.

  “That boy is going to get us into a lot of trouble,” Tharn said as he grabbed the reigns of his horse and packhorse and waited.

  “He means well,” Alaezdar commented, but he also felt uncomfortable about Rivlok’s anxiousness and aggressive attitude.

  Morlonn had just left the group to catch up to Rivlok when they all heard a loud squeal and then Rivlok’s yell for help.

  “It can’t be them already!” Alaezdar said.

  He withdrew Bloodseeker and charged his horse into the woods where a gront was attacking Rivlok. He felt Bloodseeker’s power rush through his veins as he charged and he immediately saw Rivlok on the ground, his horse running away, and a gront on his knees, but about to stand. Rivlok was conscious, but was lying in the fetal position with his hands covering his head.

  “Get up!” Alaezdar yelled as he swung Bloodseeker at the gront. Morlonn arrived a few seconds after him and was nocking his arrow as he rode towards the gront. Alaezdar’s sword and Morlonn’s arrow hit the gront at the same time. The arrow hit the gront’s chest, but only bounced off. Alaezdar’s sword hit the gront at the shoulder, but only knocked him down.

  Rivlok heard Alaezdar yell and he realized he needed to move, fast. He scrambled to his feet, grabbed his sword and charged the gront, still on the ground. His blow hit the gront in his ribs, but his blow, like Morlonn’s arrow, only bounced off his rough hide. Alaezdar jumped off his horse and met the gront in hand-to-hand combat just as he was about to return the strike from Rivlok.

  The gront and Alaezdar now fought intensely. The gront growled and grunted with every blow and the massive overbite of his fangs dripped drool down his chin with every swing. Finally, with one deft stab he made Alaezdar jump back, but before he could charge his opponent, Rivlok’s sword finally found its mark. His blade
entered into the gront’s back just below the shoulder blade and his arm flew up as he dropped to his knees.

  Alaezdar brought his sword down on top of the gront’s head, but his blade only bounced back at him. The blow only brought the gront back into the rage of battle, and he straightened his grip of his sword, put one foot on the ground, and had begun to stand up when an arrow hit his left cheek. The gront grunted and groaned again, but this time dropped his sword and clutched at the arrow.

  Rivlok and Alaezdar both took advantage of the opportunity and began cutting into the gront’s hide until they finally penetrated it enough times to kill him. They beat him senseless and continued slicing him and his blood made the ground muddy beneath the gront’s carcass.

  Alaezdar and Rivlok stood above the bloody creature and stared into his now lifeless, coal black eyes. His animal hide armor was now wet from his own blood and sweat and it looked like the body of a giant rat. His mouth was open, exposing his giant teeth and the sharp fangs showed a superior fierceness even in death. Even the space where a nose should have been gave the gront’s face the impression of a fierce demon.

  Even more intimidating to Rivlok had been the fact that when the gront was fighting them, he stood almost six feet tall, making him appear to be a walking animal with pale grey skin a the fighting ability better than most common human warriors.

  “What happened?” Alaezdar asked Rivlok without looking up.

  “He jumped me from the top of a tree,” Rivlok answered, shaking his head.

  “What…a tree?” Alaezdar looked sharply at Rivlok.

  “Yes, a tree, just as I said. He jumped out of the tree and knocked me off my horse. I got the wind knocked out of me. The next thing I remember was you yelling.”

  “Gronts aren’t known for climbing trees. In fact, they have never been known for having the patience to wait for their enemy and ambush them. They have gone into battles in large groups, of course, but this is the first time that I have heard one going it alone.”