The Shadow Knight (A Shadow Knight Novel Book 1)

by Jason L. McWhirter

  Unconsciously they had all backed closer together, their weapons held before them. Even the Earl had a sword, his guards standing protectively around him with drawn steel. Then ten of the creatures converged on them while others blocked the exits. It was eerie as the only noise they made was the sound of their sharp claws cutting through the stone as they shot towards them.

  Jonas dropped into the state of Ty’erm, becoming one with the energy around him and shutting out everything from his mind other than what he needed to survive. Of all the things that Kiln had taught him, the state of meditation had been the most important to his survival. All movements slowed and his senses were heightened. It allowed him to focus his energy, to concentrate on what he needed to do to live rather than let his base emotions of fight or flight take over.

  Reaching out with his right sword he drew in the particles around him and shot them forward with a huge amount of force, striking one beast in the head and catapulting it backwards, its body tumbling head over end until it crashed against the far wall, the thing’s neck twisted and broken.

  Two more were on him and his swords danced left and right, the edges of the blades glowing blue as they cut into pale flesh. He brought forth Shyann’s light, the glowing blue tree flaring brightly, forcing the attacking beasts to pause momentarily as they covered their eyes from the stinging pain. Bearit was next to him but he had no time to help him, the enemy numbers quickly making it impossible. One beast hissed through the light and shot forward incredibly fast, but Jonas, in his meditative state, saw it coming. Ripping one blade from the chest of a beast, he ducked low under the other attack, pushing up with his strong legs and back, using the creature’s own momentum to throw it high and backwards. Hopefully the thing wouldn’t crash into any of the other men behind him, but he couldn’t worry about that as another slashed its claws across his leg. The steel plate on his thigh flared blue as the thing’s claws struck it. His armor was blessed by Shyann and anything of pure evil would be repelled by it. The beast hissed and retracted its clawed hand just as fast as it had attacked. Jonas followed up with a snap kick to the thing’s face, knocking its head back forcefully as he brought his other sword across the stunned creature’s neck.

  Bearit’s mouth felt like cotton and his heart pounded in his chest, the creatures closing on him faster than he thought possible. He was a big powerful man, and the first thing that he did was a natural reaction to keep something as awful as the creatures before him away. He snapped his big foot forward, his new boot cracking the lead beast in the face as it paused from Jonas’s light, the strike stopping it in its tracks. Another slashed at him, the thing’s claws scraping across his chainmail shirt that hung below his hip. And yet a third leapt at him from over the creature he kicked. He had no time to think, he just reacted. With his left hand he spun his big axe down and to the side, cutting the arm off of the beast there. That move alone was a testament of his strength, wielding the heavy axe with one hand in a controlled maneuver. Simultaneously, he lunged forward with his right fist, slamming his huge hand into the leaping beast’s throat. He was lucky actually, as he had aimed for the thing’s head. If his aim had been true, he could have broken his fist on the beast’s thick skull. Luckily, the creature tried to turn away from the strike, exposing its neck in the process. Something gave way under the tremendous impact and the howling beast fell to the side.

  There was a bright flash to Bearit’s left and he glanced over as Galright shot a bolt of lightning from his raised fist. The bolt forked and struck two creatures, knocking them off their feet. The odor of burnt flesh filled his nostrils. There was fighting and screaming all around him but he had no time to look and see how anyone else was faring. He was tired from his earlier practice but it mattered little as massive amounts of adrenaline shot through his body. He screamed and fought like a berserker, the twin blades of his axe flashing up and down, left and right, cutting into pale flesh as they got close. It wasn’t pretty, but effective, the big sharp blades of the axe swung with his strength were delivering heavy damage.

  Bearit felt danger on his left side and he turned to see Galright go down under three pales bodies, their long arms flashing up and down as their claws ripped into him. Blood splashed across the pavers as the wizard screamed horribly. Now that his flank was exposed, two more creatures attacked him, their red eyes boring into him. He tried to turn to face them, but another creature was before him. He cut the beast down with a vicious sideways chop, and just as he was expecting to feel the enemy claws slice into him, he heard a tremendous roar and saw Tulari slam into them, her mouth wrapped around the body of one while her huge paw pressed the other to the ground, her claws ripping through its flesh as she shook the other in her mouth. Flesh tore and bones snapped before she tossed the thing to the floor, the pale and broken body skittering across the stones.

  Jonas fought furiously, creating a quick reprieve as he cut two more creatures down. Thinking quickly, he drew on his cognivant powers again, wrapping energy around him and running to the base of the stairs. Once he reached the first step, he leapt high, using the energy to propel him much higher than a man could typically jump. He landed gracefully on the throne, simultaneously sheathing his blades and spinning his bow off his shoulders. One creature blocked the door behind the throne and faster than a blink, Jonas reached back, gripped an arrow, nocked it, and shot it into the beast’s forehead. Spinning on his foot to face the main battle, he jumped up on the chair’s arm rests, braced his legs, and fired arrow after arrow into the remaining attackers from his elevated position. Allindrian, the half-elf Bladesinger, had taught him many things, but he was most thankful for her tireless lessons on the use of the bow. He could now nock an arrow, aim, and fire one shaft for every heartbeat, hitting nearly any target.

  And he quickly passed the value of those lessons on to the vile creatures in front of him. He killed four more, the last one nearly making it to him before he shot it point blank through the open mouth. Finally having a few moments free from attack, Jonas surveyed the scene. Three of the guards were down as well as the wizard. Bearit and Taddick were fighting side by side and the Earl was behind them, a sword held in his bloody hand. It looked as if he was slashed several times on his arms. But luckily for him the fourth guard next to him was a skilled swordsman, his blade killing one beast and keeping another at bay.

  Jonas whipped his arm back and dispatched that creature with two arrows to its back. As he did so he heard Bearit scream. Glancing quickly towards him he saw the big man slip on a blood soaked paver. To his horror three beasts leapt on top of him as he fell.

  Bearit felt several claws find his flesh on his arms and legs as he fought furiously, his armor protecting his torso. But it would only be moments before their sharp claws found his throat, and then it would all be over. He was suddenly furious, so angry that his body instantly flushed with more adrenaline. There was no way he was going to die like this. He had just been saved from his own weakness the day before, given armor and a weapon fit for a king, as well as a second chance at a life. He would not be killed the very next day, not even by creatures of his nightmares. He roared like an enraged bear, lifting up with his powerful legs and grabbing one beast in his huge arms, bringing the other two up with him. As he lifted the flailing creature over his head, the beast’s sharp claws dug channels of red up his arms before he tossed the creature far and high. He was too preoccupied with the other two creatures on him to witness Jonas’s skill as he hit the flying beast twice with arrows before it hit the floor. Bearit rammed his elbow into another creature, knocking the snapping teeth away from his throat and giving him some space to punch the creature in the face three times. Then he felt sharp claws wrap around his thick neck and knew that the third beast was just getting ready to rip out his throat. As he punched the stunned creature before him, he expected to feel his blood spray from his neck, but he felt nothing of the sort. Instead the clawed hand released him, scratching him badly in the process but not inflicting a
killing blow. Bearit spun around and saw the creature on its back, an arrow jutting from its eye. Looking up the stairs, he saw Jonas standing on the arms of the chair holding his bow in his hand, an arrow nocked and aimed. In a flash it thudded into the beast Bearit had punched, stopping it from ripping open his leg with its fanged mouth. Spinning around, Bearit saw that all the attackers were now dead. Suddenly weary, his arms and legs feeling like lead, he dropped to his knees next to his bloody axe. Captain Taddick was next to him panting heavily, his crimson stained sword held in his right hand. He dripped blood from several cuts, but none of them looked life threatening.

  Earl Magnar was sitting on the ground surrounded by bodies, most of which were killed by Jonas’s arrows. He was bleeding from several deep cuts on his arms and legs. The one remaining guard was kneeling next to him, his forehead bleeding badly from a deep cut. It looked as if they would each make it.

  Jonas leaped from the chair and bounded down the steps, moving quickly to Bearit’s side. “Where are you hurt?”

  Bearit looked at him, his face smeared with his own blood. “I’m not sure. I’m so tired.”

  “That’s normal. The adrenaline is leaving your body. Let me look at you.” Jonas looked him over quickly and didn’t see any wound that would kill him. His right fist was cut and perhaps broken. He was bleeding badly from several deep slashes on his arms and legs, but once cleaned and bound and given ample rest he should be okay.

  “Am I going to live?” Bearit asked, his voice faint as the loss of blood began to take its toll.

  “You’ll be fine,” Jonas said. “Help will be coming soon enough. Take this,” Jonas said as he fished out the other healing draught from a pouch at his belt. Handing it to Bearit, the big man downed it without question. “That should at least seal your wounds and bring back some energy.”

  “Thank you,” Bearit said wearily, feeling better quickly.

  As if on cue, guards erupted from the doors and ran into the room with weapons drawn. Jonas went to the Earl as they secured the room.

  “How bad are you hurt?”

  Earl Magnar smiled weakly. “Not as bad as I would be if you had not been here. Worry not, my healers should be here soon. Thank you.”

  Jonas nodded. “We still need to talk.”

  The Earl’s smile disappeared. “Now more than ever.”

  Chapter Three

  It was late in the evening by the time the bodies of the creatures had been removed and the Earl was healed by his clerics, servants of Toolm. Of course Jonas knew Toolm as Ulren, the High One, the god’s more common title in the east. It looked as if the Earl at least was not a follower of the old gods, as were many in these parts. Jonas’s understanding of the Kingdom of Lanard was that they had relaxed laws on religion, allowing all to follow whom they wished.

  Earl Magnar made sure that his healers took care of Captain Taddick and the lone surviving guard, as well as Bearit, who didn’t need much assistance after he had taken the healing draught. The bodies of the soldiers, as well as Galright, were removed for proper burial. After making sure to bolster the keep’s defenses, they retired to the Earl’s private dining room, eager to leave the bloody council hall while workers cleaned up the blood. Captain Taddick was there along with Jonas and Bearit, and joining them was the Earl’s wife, whom Jonas learned was Elena, a middle aged aristocratic looking woman from Lanard. Despite her stoic personality, she was clearly concerned for her husband.

  Jonas had taken the time to investigate the bodies while the clerics did their healing. They looked to be human once, but clearly something had morphed them into nightmarish beasts. They did not bleed like a man, and they seemed smaller, like shrunken abominations of their former selves, whoever that might be. Their faces and heads were distorted, no longer recognizable as human. They were naked and pale white, with no evidence of whether they were male or female. Jonas wasn’t sure they were ever human. He had never seen anything quite like them.

  Trays of sliced meats, bread and butter, and stewed vegetables were placed all around the long table. Goblets of wine were poured and everyone, following the Earl’s lead, dove right in, dispensing with the pleasantries of court. They were tired and hungry, postponing the inevitable conversation until their bellies were full and their minds somewhat relaxed.

  The Earl spoke first. “Jonas, thank you again for saving us. I fear we would have perished without your warning and skill.”

  “We are in your debt,” Elena added, her voice soft and calm, like she was used to people listening to her every word.

  Jonas nodded. “I’m glad I was here to help, and I’m sorry about Galright and your men.”

  “Thank you,” Earl Magnar replied. “They were good men.”

  “Before the attack you said that you had something to tell me.” Jonas was eager to get to the bottom of these mysterious assailants.

  The Earl sighed and drank from his wine. “Three days ago a messenger came from the king with a sealed parchment,” the Earl began. “The news he brought was dire indeed.” The Earl continued to tell them all about Maltheil’s escape and the disappearance of the Red Guard troops. He took some time to tell Jonas and Bearit the history of the demon and what had happened so very long ago. Bearit of course knew of Maltheil’s tale, but he, like many others, thought they were just that, tall tales told by bards. He was shocked to learn that the demon was, in fact, real.

  Jonas leaned back in his chair. “So, if the men I killed were in fact the missing Red Guard soldiers, then somehow this demon you speak of has the power to control others, to turn them into something beyond what they used to be.”

  The Earl nodded. “That is true it would seem. Legend has it that Maltheil turned the royal family into its servants, and in doing so raised an army to sweep across Lanard and into Onett. But he was stopped, thankfully.”

  “What I fought in the catacombs of the city was different than what attacked us tonight,” Jonas mused.

  “Perhaps,” Taddick added, “this demon’s capabilities allow it some flexibility in how in changes its victims.”

  “If these things that attacked you were once human, then they came from somewhere. Has there been any reports to quantify this many missing people?” Elena asked. “My guess is Maltheil will take advantage of the small settlements between here and Lanard, taking slaves and turning its victims into servants.”

  Earl Magnar nodded solemnly. “We have had missing person’s reports from the city, but no word from any outlining settlements.”

  “My guess is word will be arriving soon,” Jonas said. “Which reminds me. It would be wise to send a message to Lanard about what has happened and to warn the king that such an attack could, if it hasn’t already, happen there.”

  The Earl nodded in agreement, pointing to a guard near the door. “Turgar, please bring my scribe and runner to me immediately.” The guard nodded and briskly walked from the room.

  Captain Taddick looked to the Earl as if he just remembered something. “My Earl, what about the king’s wedding?”

  Elena looked at the Earl, her stoic face shifting to one of concern. The Earl too looked worried. “I had forgotten about that in all the chaos,” Earl Magnar said.

  “What wedding?” Jonas asked.

  “King Rothar is soon to wed Kylin Oneck, the youngest Princess of Tur’el,” the Earl said. “The arrangement has been long in the making with the hopes that it would end the violence between our kingdoms.”

  “When is this to take place?” Jonas asked.

  “Two weeks from now,” the Earl said. “As we speak an emissary force is en-route to Angar, a border town between our kingdoms. Once the treaty is signed, the procession will make its way to Lanard to prepare for the big event.”

  Jonas didn’t like it. “And I can only assume the royal family of Tur’el will be with this procession.”

  “You are correct,” Elena said. “We will all be at the wedding witnessing the historic event.”

  “Sounds like a perf
ect time for an attack,” Jonas said. It was evident by everyone’s expressions that they were thinking the same thing. “I need to find this demon.” Tulari agreed, growling deeply next to Jonas

  “How will you do this?” Captain Taddick asked.

  “Shyann will guide me, have no doubt.”

  ***

  The next morning Jonas and Bearit departed at sunrise, Tulari, in dog form, leading the way at a brisk pace. The Earl had been kind enough to offer rooms for them both, as well as horses and provisions for a week, along with a detailed map of the Kingdom of Lanard. Jonas didn’t know exactly where they would be going, their destination many possibilities as Tulari guided them further north towards Lanard.

  Bearit had very little experience riding and he was failing miserably at hiding his discomfort. “I be thinkin’ I’d rather walk,” the logger said with a grimace as he tried adjusting his back side in the saddle.

  Jonas smiled, looking sidelong at him. “Don’t fight against the horse’s movements. Work with him. You will get sore, there is no doubt. But once you get the hang of it you will not agree with your previous sentiment.”

  “I hope you be right.”

  They rode quietly for an hour, Jonas and Bearit side by side on the well-traveled road, Tulari in the lead. The environment around them was forested, with pockets of rolling grasslands, the gentle hills occasionally peppered with massive jutting rock formations bursting from the ground tripling the height of any tree. It was beautiful country.

  “You think those creatures were demons?” Bearit asked, filling the silence as they both were lost in their own thoughts.

  Jonas shrugged. “They looked it, and they avoided Shyann’s light, which means something.”

  “As of several days ago I did not believe that demon’s existed.”

  “I wish they didn’t.” Jonas looked at Bearit. “You did well in that fight. Most would have frozen with fear. You have strong nerves.”