Kings and Daemons

Home > Other > Kings and Daemons > Page 39
Kings and Daemons Page 39

by Marcus Lee


  In an amazing feat of agility, Drizt somersaulted backwards while flinging a small throwing knife at the swordswoman with such incredible speed that she only just managed to parry it, the blade scoring a cut on her shoulder as Drizt landed on the floor.

  The woman paused and raised her sword in a mocking salute. ‘That’s the first time in over fifteen years that I’ve seen my blood,’ she said, ‘but it’s not enough.’ She jumped down, and Astren knew all was lost as Drizt moved back … yet Drizt didn’t look concerned.

  ‘You’re better with a sword than I could ever hope to be, but that’s more than enough. You lose!’ said Drizt grimly, as the woman staggered to her knees, her weapons falling to the floor.

  She looked up in confusion as Drizt moved forward.

  ‘Salamander poison,’ Drizt answered the unspoken question in the woman’s eyes. ‘Us swamp dwellers never fight fair.’ As he walked past he drove his remaining dirk through the woman’s eye into her brain.

  Drizt ran over to where Astren was trying to help Sancen, and knelt, looking into the desert man’s eyes. ‘May you rest in the oasis of your fathers, and forever drink from its cool waters,’ he said, pushing the handle of his dirk into the man’s trembling hand. Sancen’s bloodied eyes held Drizt’s for a moment, and there was an almost imperceptible nod, and then they rolled back in his head, and he slowly slid sideways to the floor.

  Astren felt tears come to his eyes as he looked down at the warrior, blood pooling on the floor around him.

  There was quiet for a moment before Elender began to sob by the battlements.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he cried, ‘I had no idea, I thought our nations were going to make peace,’ and he raised his hands as if praying.

  Astren went across to Tristan and felt for the king’s pulse. ‘He’s just unconscious,’ Astren confirmed.

  Drizt moved toward Elender, his face as foreboding as thunder. Elender was a big man, gone to fat, yet still half again the size of Drizt, but he cowered away from the smaller man and the darkness in his eyes.

  ‘Us men of the Eyre, we don’t make friends outside of our own kind very often,’ Drizt said, almost no emotion in his voice, ‘but when we do, we would die for the other, or kill to avenge them.’ He cocked his head to one side, thinking. ‘Where are the gates to the citadel wall?’ he asked.

  Elender caught out by the question just shook his head. ‘They’re g-g-gone,’ he stammered.

  ‘Then what use are you,’ said Drizt, and quick as a flash, he bent and grabbed Elender’s legs, then heaved him up and over the battlements. He looked over the edge and nodded in satisfaction when the man’s screams stopped abruptly moments later.

  Tristan was moaning as he came around and Astren helped him to sit up. He looked around at Sancen and then the swordswoman’s body then looked around some more as he gathered his senses. ‘Where’s Elender?’ he asked.

  Drizt turned from the battlements. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘He’s down in the courtyard.’

  ‘What the hells is he doing down there?’ Tristan demanded, returning quickly to his usual self as he rose unsteadily to his feet.

  ‘He didn’t say where the gates were, and I recall you saying Sancen would throw him over the battlements if that were the case. So now he’s in the nine hells where he deserves to be.’

  Drizt turned away, and Tristan having seen the pain in his eyes decided not to push the issue. Instead, he turned to Astren. ‘So, not only do we not have any gates, or an army, we now have no citadel commander. How could this get any worse?’

  He turned to Drizt who was standing by the body of Sancen, looking sorrowful. ‘Drizt, I need you to get your archers and Sancen’s men into the citadel. I want Sancen’s men to look after his body, and to dispose of that filth,’ and he nodded to the woman’s body on the floor, ‘and the one who tried to fly. Then I want both yours and Sancen’s men to take up guard duty throughout this keep.

  ‘Tell the desert soldiers to pick a new commander and have him report to me soonest. If Elender couldn’t be trusted, it could be that the rot carries on down through the ranks. I have no idea how we will find out who has turned and who hasn’t, but let us hope it stopped with him.

  ‘We have to get this place ready for war. We have maybe three weeks, according to Astren, before the enemy is at our gate. Ye gods,’ he sighed, ‘where are my damn gates? Now, come on Astren,’ he beckoned, moving to one of tables laden with charts and letters and some ornate cabinets. ‘Let us see what insight any of this gives us.’

  Tristan opened the door to a dark wooden cabinet, ornately carved with falling coins and inside were row upon row of bottles of wine.

  ‘Hold on, Drizt!’ Tristan called, as the archer moved toward the doorway. He reached down and pulled a bottle out that was already open, then poured some into three goblets that were inside as well, before passing one to Drizt and Astren.

  ‘To Sancen. May you rest in the oasis of your fathers and forever drink from its cool waters,’ he said, quoting the ode to the dead of the desert people, as Drizt had done earlier.

  They raised their goblets, and when they had finished, Tristan and Astren sat, while Drizt walked out of the door, casting a final glance at his dead friend as he went to do Tristan’s bidding.

  -----

  Chapter XXI

  Maya, Rakan, Kalas, and Taran, sat looking out of the narrow tunnel exit over a beautiful valley, that was now starting to suffer the effects of Daleth’s gift. The devastation wasn’t as bad as the kingdom lands, being on the fringes, but even so many trees and plants close by showed the signs of withering and decay that would only get worse in time.

  The far side of the valley, barely visible, seemed unaffected, but in time, that too would suffer the same fate as the rest.

  Maya, Taran, and Rakan were fully outfitted with weapons and supplies, notwithstanding Laska’s doubts that they’d stay alive long enough to use them. Kalas sat with them as well, yet despite his escaping the curse of the daemon, Laska had insisted Kalas remain bound until such time as they were all ready to leave. Kalas’ armour had been returned, yet his weapons were packed away in a roll of animal skins carried by Rakan.

  Laska and his men were further back in the cave with Yana, and there was a heated discussion ongoing, but Taran was too worried about what lay ahead to worry about what lay behind.

  Rakan shook his head slowly. ‘I find it hard to fathom there is such danger here,’ he said. ‘We’ve been sitting here for the best part of the morning, and there’s been no movement, no disturbed birds or other wildlife. I don’t think that anyone or anything is watching this cave. I don’t doubt Laska, and it would be foolish to do so, especially as Taran confirmed he was telling the truth. Yet maybe the giants have died out over the years or have simply given up watching this cave.’

  Maya nodded thoughtfully. ‘I might agree with you, except you believed that of all the agents who crossed over, only two ever made it back. So I’d suggest that there’s danger in these lands whether we can see it or not!’

  Rakan shook his head, but not in disagreement. ‘You are right,’ he said, ‘but we can’t stay here. Our supplies will only last a week, and nothing will change in that time, especially not Laska’s mind. I think our best bet is to wait until sunset, then try to make our crossing under cover of darkness.’

  Maya turned to Taran. ‘What do you think, my prince?’ she asked, loving the way he smiled when she called him that. ‘You’ve been planning something, I can tell.’

  Taran looked at Laska. ‘Rakan’s right. Laska will never change his mind. I know I shouldn’t have, but I touched upon his thoughts. He cannot wait to see the back of us, and especially our new friend here.’

  Taran turned to Kalas. ‘Any observations?’ he asked, but Kalas shook his head. Despite his initial happiness at being released from the daemon's control, he’d been quiet ever since, his eyes rarely leaving Yana or Laska, perhaps reflecting on his recent deeds. Taran was tempted to read his thoughts further
but had decided against it. Kalas was one of them now, having sworn to join them in their quest; to repay the debt he owed Maya and Taran whilst at the same time seeking to fulfil his oath. Taran would respect his privacy as he would Rakan, Maya, or any other friend.

  Taran sighed. ‘There’s only one way to do this,’ he said. ‘One of us needs to go and take a closer look inside the treeline to see whether any giants are hiding there. My initial thought was to send Maya as being our gifted hunter she can move amongst the trees like a woodland nymph. I’m sure she could spy anything untoward.’

  Maya glowed at his compliment.

  Taran carried on while looking at her. ‘However, if they saw you when you saw them, I fear however graceful or fast, they would kill you without pause. Laska told us all of their terrible speed.

  ‘Then I thought of sending Kalas. His skill with weapons is beyond compare. Yet, even if Kalas prevailed against any he encountered, surely we would not survive as a group against a host of their angry brethren seeking revenge. Lastly, I considered Rakan, for he is the ugliest of us all, and they might sense a kinship and let us through due to an undeniable family bond.’

  Rakan spluttered indignantly at this, while Maya’s laughter rang out until she covered her mouth with her hand, and even Kalas couldn’t help but smile.

  ‘Yet, it has to be me,’ finished Taran.

  ‘No! You can’t,’ Maya exclaimed, grabbing his hand tightly.

  Taran smiled reassuringly. ‘It makes sense,’ he continued. ‘Laska advised that the giants communicate using strange sounds. If they’re out there, and we have to assume they are, then the only chance for us to make it to the Freestates without leaving a trail of blood, ours and theirs, is to see if I can use my gift to convince them we mean no harm and hope they let us pass. If this doesn’t work, then we’ll have to carve our way through, and likely die in the trying. I told you, Maya, you lead the way with your approach of healing and compassion, and I want to follow that path whenever I can. So, let me go out there alone, let me find and talk to them, and if my head is crushed, it will be all your fault!’ Taran stood as he said this and the others followed suit.

  ‘Let me walk by your side,’ argued Maya, a look of fierce determination on her face. ’Let me share the danger as we share the love,’ and she clasped Taran’s hand firmly in hers, pulling him close.

  ‘You know,’ he said quietly, ‘I would happily walk through this life with you at my side every step of the way. However, there are times you need to trust in me to go first, for my gift might keep me safe, but it can’t always keep us both from harm.’

  Taran turned to Rakan and Kalas. Kalas just nodded, but Rakan came over.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Rakan asked. ‘We can wait until nightfall and try our luck then?’ However, he saw that Taran had made up his mind even without receiving an answer, so Rakan smiled and embraced Taran briefly.

  ‘I’ll not venture far.’ Taran reassured them, ‘I will stay clear of the trees and give myself plenty of time to escape should any giants appear.’

  Taran’s heart beat fast, and with the course of action set, he stepped into the open. The sun high above shone upon him like a beacon.

  He couldn’t quite believe Laska, and even while the old man’s mind showed the truth of the stories, Taran felt sure that Laska’s memories were warped by fear and time. There couldn’t be actual giants, yet the trees had been cleared away from the cave entrance as if ripped from the ground. It was a good two hundred paces from the cave to the treeline, and Taran took his time ensuring his movements were slow and calm.

  He was two-thirds of the way, and there was no sign of any creature, giant or otherwise. The treeline was close enough now to look inside. Surely he would be able to perceive a creature of the size Laska described? Not seeing any danger helped Taran relax, and he breathed a huge sigh of relief.

  He looked back over his shoulder and waved to his distant friends, only to see their demeanour change from happiness to shock, in the same instant as the ground began to shake beneath his feet.

  As he turned around, there, charging from the trees, was a giant, club raised. Taran thought of running, but it moved too fast, and he knew there was no escape.

  The giant opened its mouth, letting out a warbling sound as it moved toward Taran like an avalanche. It seemed unstoppable, an incredible force of nature.

  He heard Maya and the others shout in the distance but stood his ground, and signalled over his shoulder for the others to stay where they were, hoping they would understand his gesture. He studied the giant as it moved, seeing its rage, and he spread his arms wide away from his weapons. Then, rather than running away, Taran started to walk toward it.

  Reaching out with his gift, he tried to read the giant’s thoughts and found them to be as clear as any humans. Yet they were so full of hate, and Taran realised even as he tried to communicate, that it wouldn’t work, not now, not yet. The giant needed to be in a state where it could listen to more than just its desire for blood.

  He knew even as the giant did, of its decision to swing its weapon, a club so large that it would break every bone in his body if it connected. It swung downward, and Taran deftly rolled to the side and back to his feet as the club sank into the stony soil. Dirt flew in all directions from where he’d just been standing.

  The giant cried out again, readying its strike, and just as it attacked, Taran rolled between its legs. It tried to adjust its swing but lost balance and spun to the ground so hard that a dust cloud rose into the air. Taran kept his arms outstretched and just walked around, as the giant cautiously got to its feet, picking up its club once more.

  The giant kicked rocks at him, threw its club at him, grabbed at him, and once even tried to bite him, but each time Taran read not only the giant’s mind, but also the move of its body, the drop of its shoulders, or the turn of its feet to avoid harm. After a while the giant was gasping for breath, and while Taran felt like doing the same, he kept his poise.

  The giant played its final hand.

  It ran forward, arms out wide, and dived, hoping its abnormal reach would stop Taran’s escape. Instead, Taran ran forward too, and in the last instant, as it flung itself to the ground, expecting him to dodge left or right or get squashed underneath it, he leapt high onto its shaggy head, and ran down its back, before circling to stand before it.

  The giant’s uncontrollable gasps for air pulled blades of grass toward its mouth, and Taran could easily have drawn his sword at that moment and driven it through the creature’s eye into its brain. Instead, he thought of the approach that Maya would take, and he sat down on the grass just within its reach.

  ‘My name is Taran,’ he projected into the creature’s mind. ‘I have no wish to fight you. This valley is too beautiful to be marred by unneeded death.’

  The giant’s eyes narrowed as it heard Taran’s message. ‘It is your kind that brings death!’ it thought instinctively in response, and memories of another time flashed through its mind, of soldiers killing one of their young so far back, as to be decades ago.

  ‘That was not me nor my friends,’ Taran thought. ‘Do you judge everyone not of your kind as an enemy?’

  The giant’s eyes fixed on Taran’s sword. ‘Everyone who carries such a thing who tries to pass through our lands also tries to kill us as well. You bring tools of death, and you wonder why you are met with the same?’

  Taran’s head whirred, but he realised the giant must be referring to Laska’s foray all those years past, and then of the agents who had tried to pass this way over the years; fighting to the last in mostly futile gestures against these massive creatures. He sighed in his mind, then unbuckled his sword belt. He rose and slowly walked toward the giant, which raised itself to a sitting position. Taran looked the giant in the eye then lay his sword at its feet before taking a step backwards.

  ‘I would not bring death to your lands,’ Taran stated sincerely. ‘Instead, I would bring friendship, and yet more importantly, as I look
at your valley and the disease that is starting to affect it, I would rather bring life as well. Let me have my…’ and Taran searched for the word he should use, ‘…my wife, join us.‘

  ‘Only her,’ the giant responded, before adding. ‘Can she jump around like you?’

  Taran nodded. ‘She can do that, but she can do so much more if only you’ll allow it. May I go to her?’ he asked, and the giant pondered. Taran could read its thoughts as it mulled over letting him go. The giant decided it wouldn’t be able to catch him one way or another, so it nodded.

  Taran stood and moved away from the giant, and as he drew closer to the cave mouth, Maya ran from it to throw herself into his arms then covered his face with kisses.

  Rakan stood back grinning from ear to ear. ‘Well done, lad,’ he said. ‘I don’t mind telling you my heart was in my mouth.’

  Taran walked into the cave and briefly explained to everyone that he would take Maya to prove their peaceful intent since memories of man’s incursions had left behind a hatred that would be hard overcome.

  So, Taran took Maya’s hand and led her into the sun, walking slowly down the hill.

  As they approached the giant, Taran could feel that its distrust had returned full force and it was contemplating whether to attack again.

  Taran knew he could easily dodge any assault, but he also knew Maya would have no such chance. He turned and kissed her gently on the lips. ‘Stay here and work your magic but don’t come any closer. Let everyone see the power of your gift.’

  With that, he continued walking down the hill, arms open as he projected his thoughts to the giant. ‘Behold, my big friend. See the truth with your own eyes and know that whereas those who came before had neither good intent or heart, we are as different to them, as fire is to water.’

  He turned a little but kept the giant in the periphery of his vision. He could feel it wavering between attacking, while he seemed distracted, or seeing if there was some truth to his claim, when its thoughts turned to disbelief.

 

‹ Prev