The Last Swordsman

by Benjamin Corman

  As she moved delicate hands down the muscles of his arms and chest and back, he ran his own over slender shoulders, soft breasts and stomach. When their exploring had gone on for several moments, they met again in a kiss. They pressed hard against each other, hungry, their hands again moving over each other with abandon. The pair fell to the soft bed and then their bodies moved fully together.

  They became as one, the moment filled with passion and requited heartbreak, sorrow and happiness, pain, ecstasy and love. As they moved together, it was as if a void was filled, that never could have been when they were apart. When it was over, Nikolis pushed up from her, and looked into her eyes. There were tears there, though her face bore a smile. He did not have to question the seeming contradiction; he knew exactly how she felt.

  The light of the lamp was extinguished and then they found each other again. This time they went more slowly, the hesitancy of their earlier moments was subdued, and now it was replaced by the dawning of something greater.

  What must have been hours later, Nikolis awoke to find the warm body of Karlene pressed tightly against his own. She looked so beautiful as she slept, her breath coming in low, shallow draws. Though he did not want to, he gently lifted her arm and got out of the bed. He went over to a small, high window, through which moonlight filtered into the room. He slowly raised the iron latch that held it shut and pushed it open.

  The gray towers of Highkeep rose into the sky beyond, long banners waving from a dozen parapets. When he had first seen the castle at Seaport, he had thought these rough, gray stones paled in comparison. But now, now he felt only one thing: that he had come home.

  As he looked to Karlene’s sleeping form and then back to the keep again, he knew that what lay ahead of him would be his most difficult trial yet. What had occurred in this room had been the culmination of years of longing. What he had experienced and done since he was a young boy had been the product of hard work and discipline. Nikolis Ledervane knew that what now was to come, may very well undo it all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The damp hay stunk, the dank odor filling his nostrils. Rain was coming down in sheets and even though he was buried in the cut grass, his cloak and clothing were soaked. The cart in which he was hidden was just now rolling to a halt, but before much time passed, he heard the crack of the driver’s whip, and it took off again. The old man sat in the front seat he knew, the man that had brought him to her.

  Leaving Karlene this time had been more difficult than before. Perhaps it was the most difficult thing he had ever done. The only challenge that might be of greater difficulty was the task that was now ahead of him. Only in thinking of her did he take comfort. He could still feel her hands on him, as she straightened his shirt and fastened the buttons of his grey coat, which had made the journey with him in relatively good condition.

  When she finished dressing him, Karlene had touched the shield sewn on the breast and the emblem of the sword that had been added there.

  “I haven’t worn it since I crossed the White, heading to the east,” he had said to her. “It feels strange to wear it now.”

  “It suits you,” Karlene had responded.

  Then he had kissed her, long and deep. Their lips stayed together for what seemed like an eternity. She had broken the kiss finally, perhaps sensing that he could not bring himself to do it. Karlene was strong.

  “Must you go?” she had said. “We could leave. Take flight to the country. No one would ever find us.”

  “When it’s all done,” he had replied. “I promise. First, I have to find out. I must see this to its finish. I can no longer live with this shadow hanging over me.”

  Even though she disagreed with what he was about to do, she let him go. The last thing she had done before he left the inn was put his cloak about his shoulders. She had done it just as she had years before, when she had first given him the gift.

  As he walked out of the small room they shared at the inn, he turned around and admired her framed in the doorway. Then he whistled and Jayjen appeared, flapping his dark wings. The raven landed on his arm and let Nikolis stroke its black feathers. He set the bird toward Karlene, and Jayjen flew after her, and landed on her fingertips. Karlene smiled at it, and Nikolis, under his breath, had whispered, “Watch over her.”

  That had been hours ago. Now all he could do was sit and wait, as the cart brought him slowly, slowly closer to Highkeep, secreted away within its load of hay. There, where it was darker even than the night sky above, he was left with only his thoughts. Nikolis had never before been more conflicted about anything he had set out to do. Fear plagued his mind, fear of what was to come. But worse than that, was the thought that what he was about to do may not be just. Am I Lyam of Redstone, he thought, or the Rhaynori scourge?

  The cart wheels sounded off of cobblestones for many minutes and then they turned and were moving over bare earth. When they finally stopped Nikolis could hear the light lap of water. Ahead, the driver stepped down and started fishing about in the hay. Nikolis clawed his way to the surface, and the old man said, “This is as far as I can take you. She said you could handle yourself from here.”

  Nikolis looked about. They were near the base of the high-reaching walls of the keep, on a patch of earth beside the castle. Ahead was the wide moat that separated the outer bank from the castle walls. He knew the spot well. After thanking the old man, he helped him back up into the driver’s seat and then watched as the cart rolled away.

  Keeping low, Nikolis moved toward the moat and lowered himself into the cold water. He wished that he had a better plan, but there was no time. Less than twenty feet away, at the bridge that reached from the southern bank to the castle gate, eight guards stood amidst torches, their red and white tabards visible in the firelight. If any one of them spotted him, they’d call out a hundred guardsmen in an instant, and there would be no escaping.

  Unfortunately, the closest the driver could leave him off was on the opposite side of where he needed to be. He would have to swim underneath the bridge to cross to the other side, and so Nikolis moved as quietly as possible in the water. When he got near to the gate, he could hear the guards laughing and joking above, and so he held his breath and went under. Slowly he pushed himself along, using only hand strokes. He dared not kick his legs, less he churn up water and make a commotion. When he estimated that he was beyond the bridge, he slowly came up for air.

  When he cleared the surface, he cursed under his breath. He had made it beyond the bridge, but not by much. As he looked up, a guard turned in his direction, and he froze in place. Above, he heard him mutter, “Did you hear that?”

  Another guard came over and started to look about. “What? I didn’t hear anything.”

  “I heard something in the water,” the first guard said.

  “Just a fish,” said the second.

  “Most like,” said the first, and then the pair turned back to the others.

  Nikolis let out a sigh of relief and continued on along the moat. In little time he came to that familiar opening that led underneath the keep walls, the one he had used in his youth to steal away into town with Kelson Greene. Once inside the tunnel he had to feel along the walls, for it was so dark he could not make much out. Several times his foot slipped, and he had to catch himself from falling into the channel of water that ran beside the stone bank. Finally, he came to the iron grating that he remembered from his youth and got down into the water again. He took a deep breath, and then pushed himself down into the murky depths.

  Just as he had so many years before, he pushed himself along the small subterranean tunnel fighting to hold his breath. It had almost seemed easy when he thought about it in retrospect, but now the memory of just how difficult and terrifying the whole experience had been came hurling back at him.

  When he got to the other end of the tunnel, he felt along the iron grating, searching for the exit hole. He searched for what must have been minutes but could not find it. A horrifying thought wen
t through his head that perhaps they had found the rent and fixed the grating. What would he do if they had? Did he have enough breath left in his lungs to head back and get out? What would he do if he could? What plan of action would he take then? He felt along the iron bars frantically searching for the opening. Just when his breath was nearly spent, and his only option would have been to make a mad dash in the opposite direction, his hands met open water.

  He pushed himself out of the tunnel and clawed for the surface. Panicking, he opened his mouth too quickly and took in a swallow of water. When he broke the surface, he was coughing and sputtering, grasping for the channel bank. With what strength he had left, he pulled himself onto the shelf and then collapsed. His lungs fought for air, his chest heaving and then without warning, everything went dark.

  When he woke up, he was cold, but seemingly not wet. He wrapped his arms about his body and shivered. Above, the sky was red, and he found himself standing in the middle of a desolate field. Pale, jagged rocks sprang up from the terrain here and there, but otherwise the area was absent of remarkable features. There was no wind, and nothing seemed to be making any noise, the entire plain devoid of sound.

  Nikolis wandered about, hugging his body, searching for someone, something, anything. He turned about and came face to face with a massive bear with dark eyes and a coat of thick, brown fur. The creature opened its massive jaws and growled. Nikolis stumbled backward, tripping over a rock, and fell to the ground. Sweat coated his brow, but when he looked up the bear seemed only to be observing him, looking him up and down with curiosity.

  “You don’t need to fear him,” a low voice croaked from behind. Nikolis spun around in confusion, putting his hands up defensively.

  Before him a small, old woman sat on a small boulder. She was dressed in worn roughspun, her face a mass of wrinkles, and her brittle, gray hair tied up in a bun on the back of her head. “You don’t have to fear me either,” the old woman said.

  “Who are you?” Nikolis asked, fear evident in his voice.

  The old woman cackled. “You don’t have to fear old Mag,” she said. “After all, you’ve already forgotten about him.” She nodded behind him.

  With trepidation Nikolis turned back, and was shocked to see the bear still there, but now it appeared much smaller, only a cub. “What is going on?” he demanded.

  “You have come to a crossroads in your path,” old Mag said, staring off toward the horizon, not looking him in the eyes. “You’re surrounded on all sides by enemies. Fear controls you. Yet, you have no need to fear.”

  “I’m not afraid,” he said, trying to force bravado into his voice. “What do I have to fear?”

  “Much and nothing,” she said. “It is normal, but unnecessary. You have an important decision before you. What you do now shapes many things.”

  “What do you know of me?”

  “Much and nothing, I am sure,” she answered. Then she cackled again, oddly, almost as if to herself.

  “What do you want of me?”

  “Old Mag wants nothing. Nothing and everything.”

  Nikolis shook his fist at her. “You make no sense.”

  “There is much that lacks order in the world, my boy.”

  “I am no boy.”

  “But you are…as long as your fear controls you. Perhaps after what is to come, you will learn not to fear. But often, this lesson comes at a high price.”

  “What lesson?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “You must face it.” She cackled again and started to approach him.

  Nikolis took a step back, moving away from her, but on the old woman came, staring at him and laughing. No matter how far back he moved, she seemed always there, getting closer and closer.

  “No, stay away from me.” He didn’t know why he was so afraid. As she was about to overtake him, her presence filling his vision, the old woman shrieked, loud and clear.

  “No! Away!” the old woman wailed.

  Nikolis more felt than saw, a figure appear between them. It was strange, but this new form seemed strangely familiar. Young, with sun-dark complexion, but hair that should have been dark was white as snow, dressed in a dark shroud, with a roughhewn staff in her hands. It was as if the young woman was there but was not. She raised her arms and there was a fluttering of wings, as a bird, similarly of a stark white color that should have been dark, flew at the old woman.

  Again, the old woman shrieked and now backed away from him. “Be gone!” she wailed. “Be gone!” Then she looked up and pointed toward the horizon behind him. “They come!”

  “Hello!” a voice called.

  Nikolis shot up, darkness all around him. He looked about this way and that but could make nothing out. He heard the faint sound of water lapping at stone, and dank wetness filled his nose. Rock was beneath him, and he began to be able to make out the ceiling of the small, stone channel above.

  “Hello!” a voice called again. Who is there? Has my plan been discovered? What is going on? On the edge of his consciousness, he began to remember a dark, red sky and an old woman, but the image vanished when a figure splashed into the tunnel ahead of him.

  Jumping to his feet, Nikolis drew his sword and moved forward. The figure got within inches, clearly not as used to the darkness yet as he was. As he was about to strike the man, he made out his features. They seemed oddly familiar, though somehow…changed.

  “Jak?”

  The young man spun about, surprised, only spotting him after much searching. “Nikolis? That you?”

  “You look…different,” Nikolis replied.

  “So do you,” Jak said. Nikolis almost found it difficult to believe the person standing before him was the friend of his youth. He looked so much older, more of a man, than a boy. His shoulders had broadened, and his arms were thick. Nikolis imagined that he himself must look similarly changed.

  Behind Jak, two more forms appeared in the tunnel, and Nikolis tensed his grip on his sword for a moment. Jak must have noticed, for he said, “Don’t worry,” and pushed Nikolis’ hand downward.

  Raife appeared first, still hunched over, walking with some difficulty, and Garley behind him, rounder and chubbier than ever. “Hello Nikolis,” Raife said, with a flourish of his hands. “Fancy meeting you in a place such as this.”

  Garley stopped before him and nodded. “Hello,” he said. The customary smile that had always adorned his face in the past was not in evidence. Nikolis could wonder at the reason, but he didn’t need to. He knew what had stolen the grimace from his old friend’s features.

  “Evar,” Garley said, without delay. “What happened? They told us all manner of things. They said you killed him, that you tried to murder the King. What happened at Seaport?”

  “Slow down, Garley,” Jak said. “We’ve just now met up after all these years, let our friend catch his breath.”

  “I could never do that to Evar,” Nikolis said. “Nor King Alginor. How could you think that?”

  “We didn’t believe them,” Raife offered. “At least not about those two. My brother now, that I could believe.”

  Raife saying that, even in jest, tore a wound in Nikolis’ heart. It hurt all the more, for it was true, but he could not bring himself to say anything. Nikolis knew that Raife had hated his brother, for Lirk Penderton had never been nice. But he still could not make himself say the words.

  “What happened,” Garley repeated. “Please tell us. You were there. We’ll believe you.”

  Nikolis looked at Jak and then from Raife to Garley. How could he tell these two friends, that one of their brother’s had murdered the other? Would it tear them apart? Would it create a breach that could never be mended? He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  “There was a lot of confusion,” was all that he said. “A treasonous plot. That is why I am back. To see it to its end. All I knew was that I had to get the King out, even if I had to give my own life. Lirk and Evar most like died in the confrontation with the plotters, protecting t
he King. Much more than that, I do not know.”

  Garley seemed to brighten at those words, though Raife looked doubtful. He knew his brother too well.

  “The King is still in dire condition,” Jak said. “He’s been sickly since Timmer Garth brought him back. In and out of consciousness they say. Some days he seems like he’ll get better and then others he’s worse than before.”

  “His living has kept the realm in balance, though,” Raife added. “And kept Erad off the throne.”

  “I must thank you for helping me,” Nikolis said. “But…wait a moment, how did you find me here?”

  “She sent word,” Garley offered. “She said you would be coming.”

  “Landed quite a flower there,” Jak added, with a smirk.

  Nikolis couldn’t help but smile. “Even she did not know how I intended to get in.”

  “I had an idea,” said Jak. “I watched you come back that night, remember?”

  “We had to make sure you were alright,” said Raife.

  “We had to see you,” Garley added.

  “Thank you,” Nikolis said, putting a hand in turn, to each of their shoulders. “Thank you. Now I need your help once more. I must get inside the castle.”

  “What do you plan to do?” asked Raife. There was concern on his face, the same that was on the features of Jak and Garley.

  “It is best that you do not know,” was all Nikolis said in return. “Only now, I must hurry.”

  “Let’s go,” said Jak.

  An hour later, he was inside the castle walls. Moving along torch-lit hallways, as quickly as he dared. Every few minutes he would encounter a guardsman in red and white, but fortunately for him, none in grey. Garley, Raife, and Jak, had done their part to help him in gaining entrance. The first two had created a diversion in the yard, drawing the attention of the nearby guards, while Jak had helped rush him inside. Leaving them had been a bittersweet goodbye. Now, all that was left before him was the task at hand.