Legends Lost Tesnayr

by Nova Rose

  Chapter VIII

  A Village Forsaken

  Tesnayr eyed the small village from his vantage point. He did not like the looks of it. The people darted about scared in the faint moonlight. The quickest way to Drynelle was through the village itself. Tesnayr did not wish to frighten them so he decided to go around.

  Tesnayr crawled away from the rock he hid behind. It had been awhile since he had scouted terrain, but the skills of a lifetime guided his movements. He made no noise as he stepped on the grass. Unaware that the village had its own scouts, Tesnayr acted as though he were safe.

  Rough hands seized him pinning his arms by his side. Another set of hands snatched his sword from his belt. The man gasped in pain as he dropped the blade.

  “What’s wrong with you,” said a gruff voice.

  “His sword…zapped me,” replied the man who had taken Tesnayr’s weapon.

  “Grab it and let’s go,” said the first man.

  “He won’t be able to,” interrupted Tesnayr remembering something the phoenix had told him. That sword chooses its owner and no one else may touch it. “Let me handle it.”

  “You think us fools?” spat the first man.

  “Far from it,” replied Tesnayr. He refused to struggle. Doing so would lead to his death. “None but me may touch that blade. Try and handle it if you don’t believe me.”

  The leader studied the weapon on the soft ground. Its blade glowed slightly. “Take it then, but no funny business.”

  The men holding Tesnayr released him. Slowly, he bent down for his weapon. He picked it up by the blade demonstrating that he had no intention of escaping. Carefully, Tesnayr put it back in its sheath. The men seized his arms again.

  A commotion arose near them as more men stepped into view. They dragged someone behind them. The man thrashed fiercely, but his hands were effectively tied. Tesnayr recognized him immediately. It was King Slyamal.

  “We found this one trailing him,” said one of the men holding King Slyamal.

  “Bring them both,” ordered the leader.

  Tesnayr was dragged to the main street of the village along with the King of Sym’Dul. Questions burned within him as to why the king was there. He buried his curiosity. Answers would have to wait.

  People gathered around as the strangers were brought into their town. A tall man with greasy hair awaited them at the end of the square where a giant fire blazed. “What have we here?” he demanded.

  “Two men skulking about, Seth,” answered one of the thugs. “I believe this one is the king,” he pointed at King Slyamal.

  “How dare you treat your king like this,” barked King Slyamal. “Have you no respect?”

  “Plenty, but not for you,” said Seth. “You are far from your court. And who is the other?”

  Tesnayr remained silent.

  “Your name,” repeated Seth.

  “You might try asking nicely,” said Tesnayr.

  “Sarcasm? What if I kill your friend?”

  “He is no friend of mine,” said Tesnayr.

  “Then it would not grieve you if I killed him,” said Seth.

  “Kill him if you like,” replied Tesnayr, “And I will stick my sword through your heart.”

  “I thought you said he was no friend,” said Seth.

  “He isn’t,” Tesnayr replied, “I just don’t like you.”

  Seth drew closer to Tesnayr. “Your bravery means nothing here. This is my village. The people here do what I will.”

  “Only because they are too frightened to stand against you,” said Tesnayr.

  Seth backhanded Tesnayr.

  Tesnayr barely flinched. He stared straight into Seth’s eyes. “Your bravery means nothing while you are surrounded by your men.”

  “I know him,” said one Seth’s thugs. “That crest on his armor, it belongs to one man. A fella they call Tesnayr.”

  Seth’s eyebrows rose. “Tesnayr? Not a day goes by when your name is not uttered. There were some interesting creatures looking for you. I think you know them.”

  Jenel hunkered behind the wagon with King Edrei and Max by her side. They had followed soon after they noticed that her father and Tesnayr had been captured. Thanks to Max’s concealment spell, they avoided capture.

  They watched as the firelight illuminated the man called Seth. He railed against Tesnayr and King Slyamal and the supposed tyranny they had spread. “We will rid ourselves of this darkness,” he said to the entire village, “By handing these men to the orcs, we can save ourselves.”

  No one in the crowd cheered. They cowered before the man and his minions.

  “Lock them away.”

  Two muscular guards hauled Tesnayr and King Slyamal away. They threw them into a building and bolted the door.

  “I don’t understand,” said Jenel. “Why would they do this?”

  “Some men will do anything for power,” said Max.

  “It appears that this man has treated this village like his own private kingdom,” said King Edrei. “This war has provided him the perfect opportunity.”

  “And what of the other wars,” said Jenel, “I am certain that all of the conflicts my father fought against you provided the same opportunity.”

  “I’ll not deny my part in this,” said King Edrei, “If we had not busied ourselves with our petty squabbles, then we both could have spent time bettering our realms.”

  “We’ve got to get them out of there,” said Jenel.

  “Do you have a plan?” asked Max.

  Jenel noticed a tankard of mead sitting on the wagon. “As a matter of fact, I do.” She picked it up and splashed the contents onto Max’s clothing.

  “What are—”

  Jenel thrust the mug into the wizard’s hands. “You remember that day they found you in the tavern,” she said, “Act like that.”

  Max grinned at her, understanding her plan. He left his place behind the wagon and stumbled into the gathered crowd. A shower of sparks flew from his hands striking inches from Seth. He staggered drunkenly waving his mug. “What goes on here?” he slurred.

  People backed away from him and his flailing hands. Another set of sparks squirted from them hitting a wagon loaded with weapons. The cart burst into flames lighting up the night even more.

  “Someone subdue that man,” yelled Seth.

  A burly man advanced toward Max. With a flick of his hand, Max launched an invisible force against the man sending him flying. “Oops,” said Max, feigning apology. “I appear to be a bit out of sorts.”

  “You drunken fool,” roared Seth.

  Pretending to be shocked at such a comment, Max stumbled around some more. “My dear sir, there is no need for anger. Simply point me in the direction of your tavern.”

  “No friend of yours,” mumbled King Slyamal as Tesnayr undid the rope around his wrists. “Go ahead and kill him. And what if he took you up on that offer?”

  “He wasn’t going to,” replied Tesnayr.

  “Why didn’t you put up a fight?” asked King Slyamal.

  “I wanted more information about this place,” Tesnayr said, calmly.

  “You have a strange way of doing things,” said King Slyamal.

  Tesnayr searched the empty, one room building they were in. No windows. No weak spots. Not good, he thought. “Why are you here?” asked Tesnayr. “Weren’t you staying behind to protect Jenel?”

  King Slyamal looked at his feet. Apologies did not come easily to him. “I couldn’t spend another day watching her cry herself to sleep. So I set out to find you…to protect you.”

  “Protect me?”

  “I’ll not lose another daughter to a broken heart. If I can do anything to keep you from dying in this war, then I shall do it. The king of Hemίl has promised to look after her. Do you love her?”

  The last statement by Slyamal startled Tesnayr causing him to stare at the king with a shocked expression.

  “Do you love my daughter?” repeated King Slyamal.

  “I traveled a path known
only in myth and legend, I battled the elements of the Ársa Mountains, all for her,” said Tesnayr, “I left her at the Keep of Edrei to spare her from this war. Yes, I love your daughter.”

  “Then when this is over you will be married straight away.”

  “Do I not get a choice,” laughed Tesnayr.

  “Does a woman ever give a man a choice,” replied King Slyamal.

  Tesnayr nodded at that comment.

  “Now, let’s find a way out of here,” said King Slyamal, “Unless of course you are still studying this town.”

  “Come on,” whispered Jenel to King Edrei, pleased that Max’s distraction worked.

  She and the King of Hemίl crept along the outer edges of the firelight. They stayed in the shadows taking special care to avoid detection. Jenel spotted three men guarding Tesnayr and King Slyamal. Splintered wood tugged at her armor. Jenel freed herself. She studied the wood that snagged her. It belonged to a pile of crates. Quickly, she shoved the crates over clattering loudly. Two of the guards rushed over.

  “Take care of them,” whispered Jenel.

  She tiptoed over to the remaining guard in front of the locked building. Quietly, she pulled her dagger from its sheath gripping it tightly in her fist. Silently, Jenel approached the guard from behind.

  “Pssst,” she whispered.

  The man whirled around. She punched him in the face with the hand that held the dagger. In one smooth movement, she brought the blade up and stabbed the man in the throat. He slumped to the ground unmoving. Jenel frantically searched his body for the keys. Her hands touched steel. She ripped the ring of keys from his belt. Jenel jammed key after key into the lock hoping the next one would fit. Click. She yanked the door open.

  “Jenel,” said King Slyamal in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “We haven’t time,” hissed Jenel, “Now come on.”

  “I thought I left you in Hemίl,” said King Slyamal.

  “No time to talk,” Jenel insisted. “Now let’s go.” She ran out into the darkness heading straight where she left King Edrei. Tesnayr and King Slyamal followed.

  King Edrei stood over the bodies of the two guards that had left their post. They all hid in the shadows watching Max continue his display of fireworks and drunkenness and marveled at how he carried it on for so long.

  “We need a plan for getting Max out of there,” said Tesnayr.

  “I’m certain he can take care of himself,” King Edrei replied.

  Jenel spotted a saddled horse nibbling on a small patch of grass. A plan formed in her mind. “Wait for my signal,” she said. She hopped on the horse and steered it to the road where Max and Seth stood.

  “You should stop her,” said King Slyamal to Tesnayr.

  “She’s your daughter,” replied Tesnayr.

  “She’s your fiancé,” countered King Slyamal.

  “I’d rather face a thousand orcs than try to stop her right at the moment,” said Tesnayr.

  “Agreed,” said King Slyamal.

  The three men worked their way toward Seth and his cohorts. Stealthily, they each picked a side to sneak up on, waiting for Jenel’s signal.

  Jenel galloped into the fray of the gathered townspeople. The horse’s hooves echoed on the rocky road as she rode up to the burning flames behind Seth. She tugged the reins pulling the horse to a stop. “What goes on here?” she demanded in a commanding voice.

  “Who are you to request such a thing?” asked Seth with an edge to his voice.

  “Do you not recognize the princess of Sym’Dul?” replied Jenel. “I am Jenel, the lady and shield maiden of Sym’Dul. You will answer my summons.”

  Unmoved by her authoritative words, Seth sneered at her. He never noticed Max edging away. “You are not the Lady Jenel. She never leaves the palace of Drynelle.” He placed his hand on the reins of her horse.

  In a flash Jenel placed the point of her sword at his throat. “Unhand my horse,” she growled. “You dare question me?”

  Seth released the reins.

  “What are you doing here cowering in your homes,” continued Jenel, “War is upon us. The orcs pillage and burn our lands while you sit here in groveling fear of a madman. Why do you let this scum tower over you? Are you not men? Are you not the free people of Sym’Dul? Will you not take back your lands?

  “I spit upon all of you and the shame you have brought. While others die, you sit here and allow this man to play king.”

  Jenel glared at Seth. “Your days of enslaving these people are over.”

  Seth reached for his weapon. Jenel raised her blade high pointing it at the heavens. Instantly, with some help from Max, lightning shot from the point of her weapon arcing to the sky. She swept her sword downward blocking an attack from Seth. Immediately, she backhanded him knocking him to the ground. A muscular man charged her. She jabbed him forcing her blade deep within the upper part of his torso.

  The others sprang from concealment. Tesnayr crashed into two of Seth’s minions. He elbowed one in the chest while kicking the other in the belly. In a graceful movement, Tesnayr whipped his sword around slashing the man in the side. Instantly, he stabbed the other in the chest.

  King Edrei kicked one of the armed men in the middle of the back. The man dropped onto the ground. Wasting no time, he rammed his sword into the soft flesh of the enemy. Another man raced for him. Fluidly, King Edrei dodged out of the way twisting on his feet and bringing his sword down upon his foe’s head.

  Watching from the sidelines, many of the townsfolk began to burn with a desire to help. Some snatched pitchforks and various farm tools. They charged into the skirmish no longer fearing Seth and his henchmen. In a flash, the entire street filled with the roaring cry of a people fighting for their very freedom.

  Tired of being stolen from and tired of their children being used, they fought ferociously. They piled onto Seth’s men tearing them to the ground.

  King Slyamal noticed a man heading straight for Jenel. He shoved his way through the mass of people. Unaware of the danger, Jenel focused on those in front of her. The man raised his sword. He released a yell as he charged.

  King Slyamal flung himself upon the man. They tumbled to the ground rolling through the dirt. King Slyamal sprang to his feet. He smacked the man in the chin with the toe of his boot. “You dare to sell your king,” he said as he plunged his sword deep into the man’s skull.

  Gradually, the fighting diminished to a few bits of tussling. All of Seth’s men lay dead. Two farmers held Seth tightly on both arms. Blood oozed from his nose and dripped onto his shirt. They brought the man before King Slyamal.

  “We apologize, my king,” said a portly man. “What do you want us to do with him?”

  King Slyamal glanced at his daughter. Jenel nodded back at him. He understood. “This man has wronged all of you,” said the king, “His punishment is in your hands. Do with him what you will.”

  Yells went up as the mob dragged Seth back to the city square.

  “No!” yelled Seth. “No! Don’t leave me here!”

  A noose was tied around Seth’s neck. The people flung the other end of the rope around the branch of a tree. Seth’s shoes scraped across the gravel as the townspeople lifted him off the ground.

  King Slyamal watched coldly as the man swung in the air dangling. He writhed and wriggled for several minutes until his movements slowly halted.

  “And so passes another greedy man,” said King Edrei.

  “It never should have come to this,” whispered King Slyamal. “We need to leave.”

  The five left the town unnoticed, save by a girl of about six. She paused by Jenel handing her a lily. Jenel accepted it gracefully and thanked the girl.

  “What will happen to them, father?” she asked.

  “I do not know,” replied King Slyamal. “But I hope they choose their next leader more wisely.”