Legend of Ecta Mastrino Box Set

by B J Hanlon

  Edin nodded, he didn’t know what else to do. His thoughts were slow and barely keeping up.

  “How’d you come to guard the manor?”

  “I owed him, I still owe him. I should’ve died two decades ago. After that last caravan I found your mother and you. Master Horston was already there, though you were just a toddler.”

  “Enough of this. Get some rest, we’ll be at the mountains tomorrow,” Master Horston said as he rolled over, facing the other way.

  It was just before mid-morning when they reached the base of the black rock, except close it wasn’t black, it was a deep dark granite. There were no plants on any rock face he could see. It was as if the mountains were a desert of stone.

  The clouds overhead looked like rolls of bread dough constantly being kneaded with the sun barely peeking through. Rain trickled in starts and stops.

  Edin drank from his waterskin as Bolvin turned the horse further south. “It is around here somewhere.” His eyes moved toward the slopes and then back into the grasslands. He paused for a moment and glanced back the way they’d just came. “Where?” he whispered.

  Then Edin caught sight of something dark moving in the grass about thirty yards away.

  Hairs stood up on his neck. Something didn’t feel right… it felt as if they were being watched. Edin heard the clacks of rocks begin to roll down the stone wall. He glanced toward the sound and saw a black stone. It was a pure, deep black that seemed to pull in the light around it. But not just the light, the energy. Everything in its immediate vicinity felt like it had been forced inside. It was an empty space where nothing survives.

  Edin felt empty… as if he’d lost a part of himself. An arm or a leg… or worse, his soul.

  “Wan stone,” Grent shouted, he leapt toward it. With a quick movement he hurled it as far as he could. Further than Edin could see.

  “Ambush!” Edin drew his sword and turned toward Bolvin. Suddenly, he knew he’d seen him before… the Ranger that Merik talked too in Frestils.

  “The boy is the abomination,” Bolvin yelled. He drew his two-handed greatsword and pointed it at Edin.

  Edin smacked the flat of his sword on Hail’s rear-end. The startled horse reared back causing Master Horston’s animal to do the same. It threw Horston to the ground while its front hooves nearly clipped Bolvin’s beast. His horse stumbled back and Bolvin missed his attack.

  Edin tried to call forth the energy around him but it was a void.

  A cloaked man appeared from the tall grass and aimed an arrow. As he loosed it, Edin fell to the side just as it was about to hit. He heard it crash into the rock wall behind him. More men began leaping from the tall grass and the few sparse bushes. He couldn’t feel his power. He felt sick and scared. It had always been there for him, a shield… his shield. But they were trapped.

  Men started to charge forward. Grent rode toward them, slicing his blade like a scythe cutting through body and grass so quick. Then he saw Bolvin swing toward Bliz. The wolf saw it and leapt backward.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a wisp of long copper hair in the low grass. A moment later, a man dropped crying out.

  This drew some attention.

  Another arrow flew from the same man. It slowed and he remembered the ice forming. It kept getting slower, he glanced around the battlefield and saw Grent was the only other one moving like a man out of water.

  Edin glanced at Bolvin and the arrow, the bald warrior was sweating and Edin could see his blond mustache peeling from his face. He was a Por Fen spy.

  Bolvin was ten feet away, but his broadside was open. His movements were speeding up, so was the arrow.

  Edin slapped his sword into the arrow as the battle increased. A spark glanced off his blade and the arrow slammed into Bolvin’s horse’s flank. The stallion bucked and whinnied loud throwing the man from the saddle.

  Edin looked back toward the archer but as they made eye contact, blood formed in the man’s mouth and he dropped out of sight.

  Dephina jumped up and hurled a knife toward Edin. It flew past his head and heard a grunt followed by a thud.

  She grinned at him. Edin saw his quarterstaff on the ground as three more men, sellswords, began racing toward him. He rolled it onto his foot as one raised a weapon. Edin flicked it at the sellsword, catching the man in the face as he swung. It threw the man off. Edin side stepped the downward strike and stabbed his eluvrian steel blade through the man’s heart. He pulled it out and rolled between the two other men. Edin came to his feet swinging his blade back, catching a sword strike and deflecting the blade back into the air.

  The man looked shocked, but for only a second as Edin came back around and took off his arm at the shoulder. Then he was horrified. The third attacked barely a second after Edin had taken his friend’s arm. Edin leapt a low cut and twisted out of reach as the man came back with two giant sweeps. He felt something at his foot, the quarterstaff. He grabbed it and backed up. The attacker looked over his shoulder. Someone was behind. Edin leapt forward to thrust with the weapon as he felt a soft tug behind him.

  The last of the trio was shocked and blocked the sword strike, but Edin wasn’t trying to kill with that. As the man parried the blade to the right, Edin spun the staff, catching it between his own arm and ribs and used the leverage of his twisting body to crack the man’s skull.

  He carried through and ended up twisting back toward the man behind him. It was Bolvin.

  “Archers above,” Horston cried out, at least he thought it was Horston… the voice was weak.

  “Reinforcements,” Grent called. Edin stepped back, taking his eyes from Bolvin for a moment. An attacker dropped out of sight with a blood curdling scream.

  Grent was attacking four men—he was on the offensive. Dephina was dancing between two more. He couldn’t see Horston or Bliz. He noticed Hail standing in grass fifty yards away just watching.

  “Can’t use your wicked powers boy?” The words made Edin look back to Bolvin. The man smiled. “It was I who caught my brother trying spells…”

  “I don’t need the talent, slimeball.” He wasn’t sure where the word came from, though the sweat on that half hanging mustache reminded him of a slug curled up beneath a rock.

  Edin heard growls, barks, and screams.

  His eyes caught a wan stone on the ground a few yards from him. Bolvin stood over it. The man shuffled forward, didn’t step. He swung his blade hard and fast. But not as fast as Grent or even the bandit in the forest.

  Edin dodged the strikes. He danced around in a circle until he was over the stone. Bolvin tried a jab. Edin sidestepped, jammed the quarterstaff into Bolvin’s chest with as much strength as he could.

  It smacked into his chest and exploded. The cracked end pierced the traitor’s chest and then snapped off. Blood began to spurt from around the wound as Bolvin dropped to his knees taking the stick with him as if it were part of his body. “Wicked magus…”

  Edin bent down and felt a rush of air past his leg. Gripping the stone, it felt cold, but a different kind of cold than the sapphire. He threw it as far as he could.

  Suddenly, a small amount of the energy returned, like after a shot of coffee. An arrow appeared in his peripheral vision and he immediately tried to twist. The arrow grazed his hip and he felt the burning pain.

  The men above were well covered. Edin remembered the thought of the knives, he was hesitant then because he’d pass out. Though he didn’t the night before.

  Edin formed an ethereal knife in his hand as an archer popped out from behind a boulder. Edin threw it. The man barely had a moment to aim when his body nearly exploded backwards. Blood spatter covered a huge swatch of the gray rock. The next leapt out, saw his friend and tried going back. It was too late. The second hit him causing the same reaction.

  The weapons began to quiet. Looking over he saw one man left, his eyes darting back and forth between Grent and Bliz.

  There was fear in them. “Please… I’m not a one of them,” the man sai
d, “I’m just–”

  Bliz leapt at the man’s legs, gripping around his ankle, the man turned to try and stab his wolf but Grent was there piercing his chest with his blade.

  Only Grent, Bliz, and Dephina stood. Where’d she come from, and where was Master Horston?

  He caught the sight of the old man on the ground, blood seeped from his gray robe. “Master Horston!” Edin screamed.

  Dephina ran up and knelt next to him, her twin blades were covered in blood. A throwing knife bandolier around her chest was half empty.

  It was over. Edin began toward Horston when he heard Grent shout. “More coming!” Edin looked up to see dark figures racing toward them on horseback. They were riding hard. He couldn’t tell how many there were, but it was more than twenty, maybe thirty. Dephina looked up at the approaching riders.

  Edin looked to the west and felt the rumble on the ground.

  He glanced back at Horston. Blood poured from his chest, bubbling with short pops every time he took a breath. “Run,” Grent commanded.

  “Master Horston?”

  “He’s dead, and all of us will be soon.” Grent wiped his blade clean on a sellsword’s sleeve.

  “I can help…” Edin said. He was panting but surprised to notice he wasn’t exhausted and falling over.

  “I followed them, they moved from the pass a day ago,” Dephina said. He looked up at the approaching storm of men.

  Bliz stood over Master Horston’s body, guarding it. There were only two horses still standing. Hail and Horston’s.

  “We can’t outrun them,” Grent said.

  “Are they all Por Fen?” Edin asked.

  “Yes, and a Justicar leads them. He just arrived from the south,” Dephina said. “I heard its Merik.”

  “He was the one that was there… he killed my mother… Kesona,” Edin said. He could feel anger percolating.

  “No… there’s too many. You need to go, we’ll hold them off as long as we can.” Grent said. “In Carrow, search out the harbormaster, find The Castilander. The Captain is named Ashica; he’ll be wary of you, but you’ll need to convince him you are what you are.”

  “How? What am I supposed to do?”

  “The mountains.” He pointed up the steep slope. “You’re braver than you know. You can handle the heights.”

  “Grent… no.”

  The guard looked at Dephina, “I love you.”

  Surprisingly, she was the one who turned red but walked up and kissed him. “I love you too.” She whispered. “And I will in the next life.”

  “No, we can go, we all can escape,” Edin yelled.

  Bliz howled.

  Grent jumped on the back of Hail. “You don’t mind if I borrow him, do you?” Grent said taking off Edin’s pack and tossing it at his feet. “I should’ve died years ago, I’m glad I’m leaving the Elori-way.”

  He gripped Dephina’s hand as she got on the other horse. Grent booted his feet into the stallion as it kicked off at a dead sprint toward the attacking men.

  Edin stared, watching his last two friends in this world ride to certain death. His stomach felt like it was in knots and he blinked back tears. He glanced at the Master, his eyes were open, he lived.

  “Master,” Edin shouted. The old man’s lips moved slightly.

  Edin dropped down next to him. “Master…” Edin said staring at the old man, he remembered him from before these terrible days and realized for the first time how gaunt his face looked. He was as pale as the snow high above them.

  “Where is that gruff blotard?” Master Horston asked.

  Edin shook his head.

  “Then make our lives worth it. I’ve always loved you like a grandson… I still do.”

  Edin smiled, it was forced and hurt his cheeks to do so. “I thought grandparents were supposed to spoil their grandkids…”

  “The foolish ones do,” Horston said, blood spilling from his mouth.

  Tears began to flow down Edin’s cheeks. He’d lost his mother, his tutor, the girl he wanted more than anything… all because of who he was. Now he was going to lose three more people he cared about.

  “I don’t want anyone to sacrifice for me.”

  “You are dumb.” Master Horston smiled, blood pouring through his white teeth. “It wasn’t your choice boy.” Master Horston’s hand came up as if to slap Edin, but Edin caught it. His palm was clammy and then it went limp.

  Bliz howled as Edin sat back and held the old man’s hand. He was almost oblivious to the world. Edin let the tears go as they streamed down his face. Bliz barked and snapped him out of his stupor. Edin wiped his face with his sleeve. Slowly, he looked toward the clashing of swords and the screams of men.

  Black robed men were falling from their horses as Grent and Dephina dodged between them.

  They were hundreds of yards away but he could make out the figure of the heroic terrin warrior and his assassin lover fighting in their last stand.

  Edin was trained in the blade, he wasn’t useless. He should be there with him, they both could live. Edin stood.

  They’d hate him… was he stupid. His heart wanted to go… but he knew there was no chance he’d live, no chance he’d be able to seek revenge. The Por Fen were the murderers, the monsters… they were the abominations.

  A moment later, a group of horsemen peeled off from the melee and charged in his direction. Grent and Dephina were still on their horses.

  Edin gritted his teeth and thought of the old man lying dead. His friend, his teacher…

  Hatred, something he’d never truly felt before began to course through his veins. He disliked Dexal, didn’t hate him. He didn’t want to kill the man, or the thieves in the forest and even the jeweler’s guard-turned thief.

  These were supposed men of a caring church, spiritual men who believed in right and wrong. He’d done nothing wrong and they hunted him half way across the continent. Murdered his family, murdered anyone they wanted…

  Edin stopped and stared at the charging warriors. His heart raced and he closed his eyes. He needed to feel it… feel the energy around him.

  It grew stronger, seeping into him. He couldn’t see the particles that Horston had spoken of, but he felt them. So many, and he called them in, all of them and let them fill him up. They seemed to rush at him, some twisting like a cyclone in the wind.

  Edin looked up and saw the horsemen were much closer. He focused on them, he could see their faces, eight of them, all wearing black and their bald heads shinned in the sun.

  Bliz stood next to him, growling.

  The first fight with crillio cat came into his mind. What stopped the crillio was the same tactic to stop charging armies or cavalry.

  Edin called as much strength as he could. The men were fifty yards away.

  A slight pulse, his power ebbed. He had only moments before one of their wan stones cut him off. Edin shot a hand out and a long line of spikes flew out of the ground before the horses.

  With no idea they were coming, the horses were skewered. His resolve almost sank when he heard their cries.

  Like rocks from a trebuchet, the men were flung from their saddles, some still held onto their reins and slammed into the ground, others flew landing barely five yards from Edin. Bones cracked and bodies went limp when they collided with the hard ground.

  Edin’s connection to the energy seemed to be instantly severed. His body felt tired and nearly exhausted from the attack.

  Crying and moaning came from all around him. Edin surveyed the scene, one man rolled around, another tried to stand but collapsed. More of them were motionless, either dead or close to it.

  Bliz leapt toward the side and ran to a downed man. Edin heard a scream, then it was silenced.

  Edin walked to one of the Rangers clutching his arm. A bloody bone sticking out of his leg. Fixable, the man could live.

  Edin raised his sword as the man looked up at him. His eyes showed fear as Edin slowly pushed the blade into the man’s chest, missing the heart but catching
the lungs.

  “You’ll die like my Master,” Edin said before turning to another zealot. Edin walked over slowly, his hand was too tight on the sword’s grip.

  “I have a family,” the man said in a soft whisper, “a wife and baby boy.” His eyes were just as fearful, but they also held a glimpse of sorrow in them.

  Edin glanced at his body, he had broken bones, his elbow was bent at an unnatural way and his shoulder seemed dislocated. Blood came from his scalp and ear. “I had a family too… you’re lucky I don’t hunt yours down.”

  The man’s eyes widened as Edin stabbed him in the neck. It didn’t matter anymore, it was them or him. An abomination against monsters.

  A man finally made it to his feet and wobbled. Edin felt almost the same. The gold badge of a Justicar was on his chest.

  Merik? His grin dropped when he saw it wasn’t. Just another Justicar.

  The man raised a sword and stared at him.

  Edin raised his blade. “You’re not the Justicar I’m looking for… Where’s Merik?”

  “I get to the kill abomination...”

  “You’re the abomination… you and your entire order. I will end you,” Edin said.

  The man grinned, blood slipping between his teeth. He spat red at Edin and tried to charge. He was fast, terrin fast. But he was injured.

  Edin dodged his first slash, the man overcompensated, and probably hoping his speed would keep Edin off guard.

  It didn’t. Edin left a low slash across his stomach and swung back around, bringing the blade down on the back of his neck. His head popped off and flew toward the mountain.

  “Tell the gods, I’m coming for them,” Edin said.

  A moment later, Edin heard a yell from far out. Looking up he saw more horses thundering toward him. Behind them lay a pile of bodies, horses and men. He couldn’t see Grent or Dephina.

  Edin clenched his jaw and wiped his eyes.

  His body was tired… he couldn’t fight anymore and with so many wan stones around, he couldn’t pull the same trick.

  Looking at the steep mountain, he wasn’t even sure he could climb it. He jogged to his pack and heard Bliz growling at the new attackers.