Voices yelled outside the tent. More of his people were coming, giving the others their chance to escape. Serra jumped over the table toward Ewen. He held up his hands, allowing her to get behind him and to place the blade at his throat.
He surrendered too quickly. His body wasn’t even tense at the threat.
She forced him to move out of the tent where the others had brought down some of Ewen’s men. They stood still when they saw the blade against their leader’s throat. One of them was about to stab Aravar. “It’s over! Drop your weapons!”
They did as commanded then Aravar kicked one of them in the gut. Repayment for earlier. Despite his obvious loss, Ewen chuckled.
“You have no power over us.”
He vanished from Serra’s hold. She whirled, finding him behind her, deeper into the fog. She ran after him, only be forced to stop when she lost sight of him.
“You are a fool, Serra. You cannot stop the return of the gods.” His voice echoed around her. When she felt a presence behind her, she swung her sword, meeting no contact.
“What you want makes sense, Ewen, but it can’t come from some magic. Peace comes from people. You want the world to change, you’ve got to put some work into doing it. Not worshipping some dead religion and their gods.”
There was another echo, only this time it was Ewen’s laugh. He appeared to her left, too comfortable for his own good. “You are naïve, Serra. You cannot stop me. You can’t even hurt me with that little sword of yours.”
Determined to prove him wrong, she rushed toward him and swung. Before he could vanish again, she briefly saw it make contact. Ewen’s voice screamed, and he rematerialized behind her, grasping his bleeding arm.
He stared at his bloody hand then the corner of his mouth curled upward. “Seems Guvtarr has found himself a new champion.”
He walked backward, disappearing into the fog before the fog itself lifted, leaving Serra alone with his blood on the tip of the blade. When Serra looked down, she saw burning marks glowing in a perfect, calm red flame.
Serra returned to the others, cursing herself that Ewen got away. She should’ve struck harder. Lopped off his arm. Should’ve been faster. Now he was gone, back into his hole where she couldn’t touch him. He would recover swiftly and do everything in his power to stop her from getting too close. She had to figure out what he was doing.
Relief filled her heart when she saw that her companions were safe. Theren went to her the moment he saw her and embraced her tightly.
“You’re all right. What happened?” he said.
She relayed what happened in the tent. Ewen’s confirmation of who he was and their fight. She showed him her sword. The once-burning markings had faded and then were gone as if they were never there.
“He said I was Guvtarr’s champion. You don’t think he plans to bring back the others? The ones you told me about?” It seemed crazy even for a madman. How would he even do it? Magic was all but unknown. A buried secret no one spoke of. Where could he have learned it from?
“It seems… that he may have found a way if he’s expressing such confidence. But it’s just a legend. There’s no way to bring back what doesn’t exist.”
Serra held up the sword, feeling its weight. She winced slightly as her wrists strained. “If the sword of Guvtarr is real, it’s safe to assume for now that the rest of the legend is real. We need to return to Adhelm. That’s where Ewen will be.”
“How do you know?”
She sheathed her sword on her belt. “Because a duke will never be far from where he holds power.”
They headed back to Mary’s farm who, despite her shock at their appearance, welcomed them and provided blankets for them to rest for the remainder of the night. After an hour or so, everyone but Serra and Theren were asleep. They were discussing what they should do.
Her heavy eyelids threatened to fall but Serra knew she wouldn’t sleep well. Knowing that the duke has been involved in the cult made her too afraid to sleep. What could they do? Everyone in the rebellion was at risk. Everyone in the city. Ewen wasn’t the only one who’d gotten information during their encounter.
“We will need to send the others back to Sharlea.” If the sword could hurt Ewen, it was the only weapon they had right now.
She needed more information. How was he planning on summoning the gods back to this world? How could she stop it? The key had to be in Adhelm. Ewen couldn’t allow others to find out about his connection to the Black Trinitas if he was to remain in power. But he couldn’t have such a powerful resource in Redwood. He would always want it close to him, under a solid lock and key.
“You don’t plan on taking him on without the rebellion’s help, are you? We need all the fighters we can get,” Theren countered.
“Theren, we can’t fight as we are now. We barely managed to gather enough people to take Slaterock. With all the sick and injured… they would be slaughtered.” Her thoughts traveled to Irma. Pregnant and alone. All she had was Sharlea’s protection keeping her safe. If they tried to take what fighting power they had against a threat, there would be no stopping Ewen from killing all of them.
Theren laid on his back, deciding not to argue with her further. “You’re right.”
No matter how much they wanted this rebellion to win, they couldn’t risk it against these odds. Ewen had the resources and now magic on his side. If they were to attack the city, it would be a laughable assault to him.
Theren closed his eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep. Serra curled up beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. He shifted and wrapped his arm around her, placing a kiss on her forehead. Within moments, he was asleep.
Her mind raced with the events of the past few days. Her feet were sore from the walking. Bruises formed around her wrists from the ropes. She would make Ewen pay for that. Eyeing Theren’s wrists, she discovered that he didn’t have as much discoloration as her.
A small relief, but she was still concerned about his head. The first blow was enough to knock him unconscious like hers. The second one… it would’ve left a nasty headache. Yet, Theren made no complaints for one. She would need to keep an eye on him. At least he was resting now, that would help.
Serra wrapped her arm around his torso and closed her eyes, hoping to get at least a few minutes of sleep.
They walked the entire day, saying little to one another. Aravar looked like he would be sick or throw a fist to the next person who spoke to him. Serra and the others did their best to keep their distance, but concern for his mental health grew. Leo had to stop him from stabbing into an already dead rabbit they had caught earlier for dinner.
He wasn’t handling this entire thing well. Between the loss of his friend and discovering he was a tool used for some malicious plot to bring back ancient gods… it was understandable that it affected him like it did. The anger in his eyes would stop even the fiercest of predators.
Finn tossed Serra his flask. “It’s the last bit until we get back to the city.” She eyed him suspiciously.
“Why are you giving it to me?”
He rolled his eyes. “Because Caden felt that for me to live longer, that I should… cut back on my drinking.”
She laughed. “You? Cut back? He’s asking for you to grow a foot taller.”
He gave her a warning look. “Hey, now.”
“Sorry.”
He sat across from her, looking as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words. He stared at something on the ground then picked at a strand of grass, breaking it into smaller pieces.
“What’s wrong, Finn? Something on your mind?” This didn’t seem like a good thing. Whenever he got like this, it usually meant something played heavily on his mind.
It reminded Serra of the time where Finn had grown quite attached to a woman they had worked for. She had dark skin, thick black hair, and full lips and was a few inches taller than Serra. Her husband had passed away nine months earlier. He had left her no children, but he did leave her
their farm. Finn would often stay up late for hours at a time to talk with her. He once picked her flowers as a surprise for her name day.
Sadly, it didn’t work out as she became involved with another man. It broke Finn’s heart. He drank twice as much and barely spoke a word to Serra for several weeks. It was a look she never wanted to see again.
“This… all this is bad, Serra. I’m not sure what we can do.” Any mention of magic made him nervous. Even the random performers they would see on the streets during their travels would make him shudder.
She sighed. “We need to find Captain Falck. She has to know about this.”
“What makes you think she will care?” He was right. Her clear cold-heartedness for the two elves was obvious, but Serra couldn’t make that assumption that she would have felt the same about the rest of the people in her city. If the duke was involved in this cult, it would be in her best interest to listen.
But how would she convince her? Ewen would have people watch her. Probably lock her up if she tried to take away his power. If he believed she was Guvtarr’s champion, then he would do whatever he could to keep her from stopping him.
She could warn her. At least tell Captain Falck that the duke has been seen outside the city, dressed in strange clothing. Give her enough information to get her mind filled with questions but leave out the magic and Black Trinitas. If Serra brought that up in the conversation, she would easily dismiss her.
“We will have to be careful of what we say. If we say anything about the Black Trinitas, she’ll probably lock us up immediately out of spite.” The captain would’ve killed her if she tried to stop the execution of those two slaves. Caden had said so himself. What else would she do if Serra accused the duke of being some dark magic wielder?
Finn looked at Leo and Aravar. “What about those two? I know Theren will refuse to leave your side.”
Serra relayed her decision she had told Theren before. Finn was inclined to agree with her and offered a suggestion. “We will also want to scout where Ewen is. We need to find out where and how he plans to bring those gods back.”
He kicked a rock on the ground. “I ain’t paid enough for this,” he muttered to himself before heading towards the others.
She stared at the rock that laid in front of her feet then flipped it on its backside with the tip of her boot. Ironically, she felt like she was like the rock itself. Lying there. Walked on until someone needed it to use as a weapon against a threat.
An orphan with no power or family. No resources, and now she had to find a way to stop some maniac from performing his ritual to summon gods intent on destroying the world in the name of “peace.” Why was she given this responsibility?
Perhaps Finn was right that she never should’ve gotten involved in the rebellion. She felt she was making a difference, but it threw her deeper inside an already very deep hole with no means of escape. Finn’s dream of prosperity would have to wait. It made her feel guilty that she’d been so selfish. She never should’ve let him get involved. They never should’ve come to this city.
But then she never would’ve met Theren or Caden, and a lot of lives would be suffering if she hadn’t been here. At the same time, she wouldn’t have brought Finn in the middle of this. He was all she had for a family. While she loved Theren, she wondered how much he cared for her. He has yet to say he was in love with her. Maybe it was a simple infatuation, an overpowered lust that would dissipate over time.
She sighed. There was no going back now. She had to see this through. She just wished there was another way.
When she approached Leo and Aravar, she felt as though the air was thinning. “You two will need to return to the camp and inform Sharlea what happened. Finn, Theren, and I will return to the city. That’s where Ewen will be.”
Leo raised a brow. “You plan on fighting him alone?”
“That human killed Ethrond!” snapped Aravar.
Serra raised her hand. “It’s for the best. He won’t stop until the rebellion is dead. They will need you far more than I will. Whatever happens to us, you need to do everything you can to take your people to safety. Take a ship and go to Crelia. There’s a town on its outskirts named Basinshore. Your people would be safe there for a while.”
Aravar looked at Leo, begging him to argue. Leo simply nodded and turned to leave. “That’s it? We’re just going to walk away? You would allow a human to—”
Leo threw a fist, finding its mark against his nose. Blood immediately dripped from his nostrils. He wiped it away with his sleeve. “Fine,” was all he said before shoving his shoulder into Leo then walked down the hill.
Aravar stopped, staring down at the grass and broke into tears. Serra glanced at Leo then stepped down the hill to Aravar, muttering something to himself.
She touched his back, trying to comfort him. Instead of shoving her away, he fell back into her, gripping her shirt as he sobbed.
She rubbed his back as she embraced him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Ethrond wasn’t… just a friend to me,” he said, voice cracking. “He was all I had. I loved him so much. I didn’t… even get to say goodbye and tell him I loved him.”
Understanding, Serra held him tighter. Aravar lost his best friend. His lover. It explained why his death hit him so hard. Why he suffered so much.
“I’ll avenge him. I promise. I won’t let Ewen get away with this.”
“Serra,” said Leo. He helped Aravar to his feet, hugged him then patted his back. Aravar forced his feet forward, wiping away his tears. Her heart broke for him.
Leo grasped her hand. “Thank you. For everything.” And with that, he left and walked beside Aravar. She watched them for a while, making a small prayer that they find their way to a new home.
The rest of the journey back to the city was uneventful. The heavy absence of Leo and Aravar brought a silence between Serra and the others. They each agreed that it was for the best, but it didn’t make it any easier. Three against Spirits knew how many Ewen had under his control. It was crazy to say the least.
Serra worked through a plan. They would attempt to inform Captain Falck of the situation, find Ewen, and sneak into his residence to find out what he was using to bring back the gods. It wasn’t clear what they would be looking for or how big.
From what Serra had heard in the past, people who practiced magic would use some type of artifact or potion to perform their spells. At least that was what people used in stories. Most of them went the same way—some man with magic powers would be exiled from his people only to have to return to ward off some evil demon and save the day.
But that was in stories.
Adhelm was its usual self. Everyone was too busy shuffling with their daily activities to mind a few wanderers. Even the guards seemed bored. Serra noticed there were fewer guards than normal. Finn observed the phenomenon as well.
“I bet they are at Silverhall. From what I have noticed the past few months, there’s always a meeting before the day patrols start. Might be a good place to start,” he said. Finn always had a knack for knowing where the guards were, just in case they needed to sneak around them during a job.
Serra had only seen Silverhall once before. It was as the rumors said—a massive building with shining silver embedded in its stone. A large open bridge stood between itself and the rest of the city, and an over twelve-foot wall to protect its contents. In the worst-case scenario, they could blow up the bridge for protection. Scaling the rocky base up to the wall would be impossible. Especially if they had archers at the ready.
At the entrance of the bridge, there stood Captain Falck and twenty of her men and women. She shouted out orders as they remained in their lines. Their backs were straight, shoulders pushed back, as they saluted with her fists above their hearts. Falck waved her hand, dismissing them.
Before Serra could approach her, a man walked up, whispering in her ear. In the corner of Serra’s eye, she saw two other men standing several feet away. She almost pulled
out her sword to end him right then and there but forced her temper in check.
Ewen.
She was right. He had returned to the city, playing the role of a proper duke. Bastard. He would pay for everything he’d done. Her promise to Aravar and Ethrond’s father echoed in her mind. Serra backed away a bit into a deeper crowd to avoid his gaze. He didn’t need to know she was here yet.
When she looked back, she saw him put his hand on Captain Falck’s shoulder. She stared straight and stiffened as if his touch hurt her. Her eyes changed, flickering black just like the ones Serra had seen before.
She cursed. He had her under his control. Finn looked at her, confused. Serra relayed what she just saw as she inclined her head toward them.
“Damn.”
“We need to get inside, but we can’t climb those walls, and I doubt the captain will just allow us to waltz through,” said Theren.
Possibilities roamed through her mind. Theren was right. They couldn’t do this conventionally. She rubbed her chin, her eyes wandering until they landed on a pair of guards talking. A smile formed across her face.
“I have an idea.”
It took Serra over two hours to track the movements of the two guards that were closest to her and Theren’s height. None of the guards under Captain Falck was Finn’s height, so it would just be the two of them. Serra and Theren walked together, Theren slightly behind her. A human and an elf were never seen walking side by side. They gave the false assumption that Theren was her slave to not arouse suspicion. He kept his head down.
Finn pulled out his flask as he leaned against the wall outside a small tavern. When he saw the guards, he tripped in front of them and landed against the female guard. “Watch where you’re going! Stupid, drunken dwarf.”
“My apologies, madam. I seem to have lost my coin purse. Have you seen it?” Finn slurred some of his words. It was humorous because he could mimic his slurred speech perfectly for when he was drunk. He played the part a little too well.
Rise of the Champion (The Champion Book 1) Page 21