Immortal Swordslinger 3

by Dante King

  “Agreed.”

  As we headed up the steps, another figure was walking down toward us. Ganyir had donned the armor that previously lay in a corner of the temple. It added to his already intimidating bulk, creating a figure of towering strength. His expression was still grim, but at least the slump was gone from his shoulders.

  We met him halfway up the steps. To one side, the mountain fell away in a vertiginous and jagged drop. To the other, it soared up toward the heavens, a mass of stone nearly as solid and stern as the fallen lord of the Gonki.

  “I want to take a closer look at the army,” Ganyir said. “To see what sort of threat we face.”

  “I’ll come with you, my lord,” I said. After being called “Master” for a day, using the honorific felt a little strange. “I didn’t have a chance for a closer look with the initiates in tow.”

  “Count me out,” Tahlis said. “I can smell everything I need to about them from up here. Let me tell you, the mighty forces of Gonki need to bathe more often.”

  “If you’re heading up, then tell the others that we have a raid incoming,” Ganyir said. “I spotted a detachment of 30 or so heading this way. They’ll be set on storming the Sunstone Temple.”

  “Very well, my lord.” Tahlis bowed, both his words and the movement clear of his usual mocking tone. Then, he headed up the steps.

  I expected to go back down the stairs, but instead, Ganyir directed me to a narrow gap between two rocks. He had to turn sideways to fit between them. On the other side, a trail I hadn’t noticed headed steeply up the side of the mountain, back east above the valley road.

  The lord didn’t speak after I followed him through the gap, and I kept pace with him as we traversed a steep and winding trail. The narrow path clung to the natural curves of the mountain. It looked ancient, not a deliberately designed route but one laid down by centuries of living things traveling along it. In places, it was so narrow that I had to put one foot in front of the other like a tightrope walker, while leaning in toward the rock to avoid overbalancing and tumbling down the mountainside. Ganyir, despite his bulk and the weight of his armor, moved along it as nimbly as a mountain goat, practically leaping along a path so tenuous that I might never have noticed that it existed.

  The trail forked repeatedly as it wound across the mountainside. Sometimes, we took the high route and sometimes, the low one, but Ganyir always followed it with absolute confidence.

  “You know this place well,” I said.

  “My brother Targin and I came out here when we were kids,” Ganyir said. “The place has changed since then, and not for the better, but I still know my way around like I know the rooms of the palace.”

  The darkness of his tone put me off asking further questions, and we continued our journey in silence. I emerged onto a rock ledge at the top of a cliff where Ganyir laid prone. I figured he wanted to make himself inconspicuous to the army, so I mirrored him as he crawled to the edge of the cliff.

  Below, sand dunes fell in waves down the valley toward the river bed. On the way, they ran across the sand-sunken village.

  The army gathered amid the half-buried houses. Most soldiers seemed to be ordinary infantry, men and women in cheaply assembled uniforms like those of the guards I’d met at the city gates. They carried heavy two-handed weapons, including clubs, hammers, maces, and long scimitars. There were scouts as well, with short swords at their sides and bows on their backs. The officers, dressed better than the rest, were clustered around one of the cooking fires, with their horses and camels tethered nearby.

  Most important were the Augmenters. They stood out in their guild robes, and like the officers, they weren’t mixing with the rest of the troops. They had cleared the sand off a set of benches in what had once been the village square while the troopers brought them their meals. This was the way of the Straight Path—use your strength to have others do your bidding, even in the smallest of things.

  “This doesn’t look good,” Ganyir said.

  “I’ve defeated a guild before, with those same Augmenters who are now inside the temple.”

  Admittedly, I’d also had Faryn, a collection of Wild tribes, and a Water Clan alongside me. But I wasn’t going for complete honesty with Ganyir. I wanted to inspire him where I could, let him know the situation might not be as dire as he seemed to think.

  Still, I wasn’t exactly filled with confidence as I stared out at the masses of soldiers and Augmenters.

  We lay there for a while, watching the troops come in and out, counting numbers and judging what sort of soldiers they had. Ganyir sometimes pointed out individual men, especially among the officers and Augmenters, and told me what I could expect from them. His knowledge of the details was impressive.

  “This is your clan,” I said at last. “You clearly know them well. How did you lose control and end up in exile?”

  Ganyir was silent for so long that I thought he was ignoring my question. But it seemed that he had been brooding, not ignoring me, as he finally started to tell his story.

  “My brother and I were close once, as family is supposed to be. As children, we explored the mountains in each other’s company. As guild initiates, we practiced Augmenting together. As adults, we shared many fine evenings of eating and drinking. Targin was always a little self-indulgent, and it was good that I was the eldest and so, set to inherit. But it never occurred to me how deeply he resented that state of affairs.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Saruqin. When he became high priest, he began turning people away from the Wandering Path. I didn’t know it, or I would have had him exiled in an instant, but he turned many people against me. Targin was one of the first.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say since I didn’t have any brothers, so I knew nothing of family betrayal. Ganyir saved me the trouble of thinking up the words when he continued.

  “Piece by piece, they stole control of the guild away from me,” he said. “I blinded myself to the warning signs, even when they maneuvered to have Tahlis thrown out. But at last, the time came when I could ignore it no longer. Targin was set on usurping all authority in Gonki.” He paused, and it seemed that he wouldn’t continue the story.

  “You confronted him,” I said after I’d thought about it. “But it was too late. His supporters were all in positions of power.”

  “The only solution would have been to fight him outright,” Ganyir said, my words loosening his tongue again. “With two powerful Augmenters battling in the heart of the city, half of Hyng’ohr would have been flattened. I couldn’t do that to my people, so I went into exile instead.”

  I couldn’t agree with his choice. Not at all. There were miles of desert where he could have lured his brother to fight, thus preventing the city from being damaged. Ganyir seemed too concerned with the proper thing to do and not the right thing to do.

  “Do you regret not fighting your brother?” I asked.

  He grimaced. “I thought that in my absence, people of influence would realize how problematic Targin was as a leader. But Saruqin had become too powerful of an influence. When I tried to return, I was not met with open arms but with Mahrai and her monstrous golem. My exile was ensured.”

  “I defeated her golem,” I said.

  “Her golem has many forms. If you defeated it, then she merely showed you one of its weaker forms.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But you never even tried to take on your brother. You let your city fall to the cultists because you were weak.” I stared him in the eyes, and I wondered how much I’d truly learned from the Seven Realms. I hadn’t used his honorific once since coming to the mountaintop, but I believed that rulers earned their right to rule; they shouldn’t be born into it like Ganyir had been.

  He went silent for a moment as he stared at something in the valley. Rather than the anger I’d expected, my words seemed to strike a chord with him. He lifted an arm, and I wondered what he would do next, but then he pointed to the village.

  “Look,”
he growled.

  A new figure had walked into the village. Not just any figure, but one three times the height of the warriors around it, a solid mass of hulking stone. A smaller figure, short and functionally dressed with a neat bob haircut, jumped down from the creature’s shoulders, then walked over to join the Augmenters.

  “Mahrai,” I said. “So, you said her golem has multiple forms. If that’s the case, then I’ll just have to defeat whichever one she throws at us.”

  “And level a chunk of the valley in the process,” Ganyir stated grimly. “If we want to finish that thing, it’s going to come at a cost.”

  “It’s not my land to pay that price,” I said.

  “If it means stopping the cultists, then I want you to do it.” Ganyir looked me in the eye. “I failed to fight before. And I’m not sure I can fight now.”

  I felt like slapping him across the face, but I stayed my hand.

  “But I know you can fight,” he continued. “And if you’re truly the Swordslinger, then you can defeat her golem. And perhaps all the cultists in Gonki.”

  Chapter Eleven

  In the valley below, the corrupted Augmenters of Hyng’ohr were gathering around Mahrai’s stone golem. They approached the mighty creature with respectful admiration; they had seen this thing several times, but none drew close enough to touch it. There was something intimidating about the greater golem, even to people on its side.

  Ganyir drew back from the cliff edge and rose to his feet. “I should return to the temple, gather my weapons, and prepare for the confrontation to come.”

  “I’ll move in closer while you prepare,” I said. “I can pick off stragglers and scouts, whittle away some of their numbers and start to put fear in the others. It’s only a start, but it’ll mean there’s a softer target when you arrive.”

  “Al. right.” Ganyir nodded slowly. “It’s the start of a plan, at least, and every victory has to start somewhere. While you’re dividing and conquering, I’ll bring the others down and see what advantage we can make of the opportunity you’re creating.”

  He clasped my hand firmly and looked me in the eye. There was a determination in his gaze that had been missing before. Perhaps my harsh words had actually done something. The initiates weren’t the only ones who had gained some fire in their bellies.

  “I’ll see you in the fray, Master Swordslinger.”

  “I’m not a master.”

  “You might as well be.”

  Ganyir headed off down the trail with a bounce in his step.

  I gave the village a final scan, locking down where the main groups of warriors were relative to each other and to the golem. Of course, they might move by the time I got down there, but this at least gave me a chance.

  I headed back along the trail. Ganyir, so at home on the mountain paths, was already out of sight, but I remembered the route we’d taken to get up here. I went back down, slowing for the narrowest bends, occasionally stumbling as a rock rolled away from beneath my feet, until I emerged between the pair of rocks onto the steps to the temple.

  Just above where I’d appeared, sitting on the steps with his mace beside him, was Kegohr.

  “Hey, hey, hey!” he called out. “Been waiting for you. Figured you’d turn up somewhere around here.”

  “I thought you were all waiting for us at the temple.”

  “Got bored.” Kegohr picked up the mace and swung it around. “Too long since I had any action, you know? And I don’t have much of a head for battlefield strategy, so I couldn’t help with planning. I just want to get in there and smash some skulls.”

  I smiled to see how confident he’d become. When I’d first met Kegohr at the Radiant Dragon Guild, he and Vesma had been social outcasts, scorned by many of their classmates. Kegohr had been a gentle giant, fun and friendly in a way that was surprising given his ferocious appearance. But the battle for the guild and then traveling out on our quest had changed him. There was a ferocity there, a baring of his tusks that hadn’t happened often before.

  “Come on, then,” I said. “Let’s find you some action before you smash up Tahlis’ steps.”

  We walked down the narrow staircase, past protruding rocks and dark crevices in the mountainside. The sun, whose heat seemed a constant presence in the valley, blazed down on us.

  “It’s good to see you keen for action,” I said.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m gonna smash these cultist bastards so hard. It was a tainted guild that killed my family. I ain’t gonna let the rot of one of these cults spread. Not while I’m still standing, yeah?”

  “Of course.” I stopped and looked at him. “You’re reliving those memories for the sake of my quest, aren’t you?”

  “You think I don’t face those memories every day? Your quest’s giving me a chance to avenge them. That’s the best thing I could have been given. Now, let’s go crush some scum.”

  As I walked, I laid one hand on the hilt of the Sundered Heart Sword and another on the Depthless Dream Trident. I wanted to check in with the other two companions I was taking into action.

  “My sweet man,” Nydarth said inside my head. “I see we’re heading into battle. I look forward to seeing you thrusting and pounding with all your might.”

  “Thanks, Nydarth,” I replied. “It’s always good to have your support.”

  “I am with you too, mighty Swordslinger,” said Yono in her silky tone. “It will be a good chance for you to use more of your water Augmenting and so reinforce those channels within you.”

  “Better to rely on fire,” Nydarth said. “Work with your strengths, not against them. Give in to the fiery heat of passion.”

  “You do understand that he’s going to a battle, not a whore house, don’t you?” Yono asked.

  “Sex and death are not so far apart. The blood pounds, the heart races, and we lose ourselves in them.”

  “Spoken like a creature of fire. You can’t enjoy anything without chaos and destruction, can you?”

  “And what would you prefer, to sit quietly and watch the clouds drift by?”

  “At a time when the world allows it, yes.”

  “See, sweet Ethan? This is the alternative you’re being offered—the slow slide into tedium.”

  “I didn’t realize I was meant to choose between you,” I said. “I thought you were both on my side.”

  “We are,” Yono said. “But I’m afraid that someone doesn’t like sharing the inside of your head.”

  “I’m happy to share, as long as Ethan wants to join in,” Nydarth said. “Whether it’s in battle or in his private chambers.”

  Yono didn’t respond, and I thought it was best to let the conversation die. I had other things to worry about than the dynamics between the voices in my head. They could finish their bickering another day.

  By the time Kegohr and I reached the bottom of the stairs, we hadn’t seen any sign of the enemy. I was on my guard. Now that we were on open ground, we had more room to maneuver and opportunity to get around our opponents. But that also meant that they had more ways to approach us, more places to hide and positions to launch an ambush from.

  Kegohr and I headed out across the packed earth of the foothills and down into the dunes of the Vigorous Zone. As we went, we saw strange beasts moving about. Snakes with salt skin that sprang from the earth then tunneled back down. Crab-like creatures that came scuttling out of their hiding places and snapped at each other with stone claws, the clack of their pincers creating a strange and rhythmless beat. Tiny foxes with huge ears that formed out of the sand ran circles around our feet, then disappeared back into the ground.

  “Vigorous Zones, man,” Kegohr said with a grin. “They never get dull.”

  As we got closer to the village, we made more use of the terrain to stay concealed. There were occasional rock outcrops, especially close to the mountainside, but for the most part, we used the rise and fall of the dunes. We stayed to the sides, away from the village, occasionally climbing cautiously up a ridge to look o
ut for observers, sometimes lying low while the wind blew stinging blasts of sand from the peaks. But as we got closer and started spotting Hyng’ohr lookouts, it became clear that we were going to need something else.

  “Can you tunnel closer?” Kegohr asked. “Like Tahlis does?”

  “I don’t have that technique yet. And even if I did, I don’t think I could take you with me.”

  “Nothing with your mud techniques?”

  “No, but…”

  I closed my eyes and reached into the power of earth. I let just a little flow along the channels that led it to form a Sandstorm, and then let that out into the world.

  Sure enough, a swirl of dust appeared between my hands. I summoned another and directed it in at an angle so that they created something like the twisting of a dust devil.

  I let that Sandstorm go, and it drifted out ahead of us. I created another like it, and it did the same. Soon, a trail of miniature Sandstorms lay at key points on our route ahead, obstructing the view where the dunes didn’t do the job.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Kegohr said. “That’s great shit. But it’ll only do so much to help me blend in.”

  He gestured up and down his tall, muscular frame, with the distinct gray skin and fur across the shoulders.

  “You’ll be fine,” I said. “We’re here to cause a distraction, anyway, to draw off some of the bastards. If they think they see something in among the dust swirls, that might not be a bad thing.”

  Using the scenery and my magic for cover, we continued toward the sand-sunken village. Soon, the first buildings were in sight. I unleashed more Sandstorm, and we crept forward behind them until we were less than 50 yards from the nearest buildings.

  We crouched behind a low dune and watched. A fire was burning outside one of the nearby huts, so someone was clearly using it. If they wandered outside, maybe we could draw them off.

  There was movement in the doorway, half-buried in the sand. Mahrai crouched through the gap and stepped outside.

  “Shit,” Kegohr hissed. “What were the odds?” He grinned. “Gotta take this opportunity.”