Bladeborn

by Clayton Schonberger

  Sometime later, Bladeborn awoke, still in the grip of pain. He was in a large room lit by glow-globes, with a lady at a writing desk and a guard by the door. The room smelled of incense and musk. It was a cool, dry atmosphere and although he was dizzy with pain, he could tell he was in a wealthy person’s canopy bed.

  “My weapon,” Bladeborn said, in a raspy voice. “Where is it?”

  The lady arose elegantly from her oversized chair and the Guard at the door perked up. She came over to Bladeborn and looked at him.

  “Sir Rodon Thell said he wasn’t sure what kept him alive while the traveled here, my Queen. But he claimed that the odd Sword he was found with had something to do with it. When Sir Rodon gave it to him, his health improved. Your personal physician said it was an impossibility, and last night, we locked the weapon away, so if he awoke he couldn’t harm himself or anyone else.”

  With great effort, Bladeborn managed to repeat, “I need my Sword and it’s scabbard…”

  The lady, whom the Guard had said was a Queen, lingered over Bladeborn for some time. Because his vision was so blurred, Bladeborn couldn’t see her face very well. She turned toward the Guard and said, “Send for my physician again, Lord Esket; he is awake. And have his Sword Brought, also.”

  “Right away, my Queen,” the one called Lord Esket replied, opening the door. He barked a command, “Get the Queen’s physician back in here, quickly!”

  Lord Esket said, “I’ll be right back with his weapon and scabbard. But I don’t recommend it.”

  The Queen replied, “I’ll be the judge of what is best for him, Lord Esket, if you don’t mind.”

  Moments later, a man who must have been the Queen’s physician entered the room and sat down on the edge of the canopy bed. The physician applied a salve to Bladeborn’s lips, then poured a strong drink down his throat. The medicinal mixture caused Bladeborn to cough and gag.

  After he had administered the medicine, the physician arose and the Queen sat down on the bed with Bladeborn, placing her hand on his forehead.

  “Will he live?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so, my Queen,” the physician said. “I can only do so much. We can pray for him, but it is just a matter of time.”

  “He claims his weapon has healing magic,” the Queen whispered. “Could we lay it beside him?”

  “I don’t recommend you chance this, my Queen,” Lord Esket advised. “He may be wilder than we can ascertain.”

  “My physician says the man is on the brink of death, Lord Esket. He is no threat, and he claims it will help him,” she said, with a resolve in her voice that bespoke of command. “I think it is a risk we can handle.”

  Wrapped in cloth, Nightslayer was brought in, and the Queen gently placed it under Bladeborn’s good arm.

  The physician declared doubtfully, “This is foolishness. The man won’t last the night.”

  The Queen replied, “If he can survive the poison and other injuries, we shall know his Sword can heal.”

  Thus, holding Nightslayer, Bladeborn attempted to find a place beyond the pain. Nightslayer’s telepathic voice rang clear in Bladeborn’s mind.

  ~~You verge on death, Swordsman, but fight it! Go deep into your soul and mend your injuries! Remember, I have chosen you, and our bond is forever!~~

  Near the Sword and the healing scabbard, Bladeborn could enter a deep trance to break the fever and close his most serious wounds. Somewhere within this trance, Nightslayer showed Bladeborn visions of a drawn-out war; in repeated battles Bladeborn saw himself leading the charge with a force of human warriors following. The shifting dreams showed a bloody conflict with the Rhinolon.

  Bladeborn found the brutal victories achieved in the fight against the Rhinolon to be inspiring. He thought it was more than mere dreams, being something yet to be. He pushed his healing trance deeper than he ever had before. After several hours of such visions—or perhaps several days—he slept soundly.

  Bladeborn awoke and sat up in the bed, surprising the old gentleman who was cleaning the room.

  “Water,” Bladeborn said, through parched throat and cracked lips.

  “Awake?” The man-servant said. “Let me get the Queen’s physician, young man...”

  The gentleman was gone for a moment, then he returned with the physician. The aged physician sat on the bed and held his hand to Bladeborn’s head to check for fever, “How do you feel?”

  “Better, but I am very stiff,” Bladeborn replied. “I ache, and these bandages seem a bit tight. I need water.”

  “Go get the Queen and Lord Esket,” the physician ordered the older gentleman. “They will want to know.” The physician handed a decanter of water to Bladeborn, who gulped it down.

  “Don’t drink it so fast,” the physician said. “You’ve been through a lot.” As he examined Bladeborn he asked several questions. “You speak our language well enough to be understood, yet I can tell you’re not from the Six Valleys. Where is your tribe?”

  Bladeborn said, “I walked across the Blasted Plain, staying with the tribes who dwell there. But I was born in Fortress City, far to the North.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” he countered, frowning. “It is widely known that Fortress City is no more than a tomb, destroyed in a forgotten war. And the Blasted Plain is only a place of death.”

  “Have it as you would,” Bladeborn said. They each held their tongues for a bit, until the Queen arrived.

  The physician came to his feet as the Queen entered with Lord Esket. She stood at the foot of the canopy bed and asked her physician, “How does he fare?”

  “I don’t understand it, my Queen,” the physician said. “Not only has the fever broken, but…most of the wounds have already closed. It is possible that there was some sort of magic here—but I cannot determine its nature.”

  “Is he…safe for the Queen to be near?” Bladeborn heard the man named Lord Esket ask the physician.

  “He claims to have—walked—through the Blasted Plain,” the physician scowled. “he makes other such fantastic claims.”

  “I don’t want to expose you to any ‘unknown forces’ my Queen,” Lord Esket said.

  “I feel that the healing magic is benevolent, my Queen,” the physician claimed. “He makes wild claims, but seems to be civil.”

  The Queen frowned, as if she believed that the two men were overly cautious, and then introduced herself, “Stranger, my name is Queen Deocarla Procasseye of the Royal Line of the Six Valleys. I believe that I know of you from stories. The Rhinolon call you ‘the Accursed One of the North.’ You were brought here by a Knight of the Realm and his men, who assured me that you were the same person. You are that man, are you not?”

  “The Rhinolon we captured often named me as such,” Bladeborn said honestly. “As far as they are concerned, I am that person. For the past three seasons, I led groups of Drommu tribesmen against the Rhinolon raiders. If I may ask, did any of them survive the fight that left me injured?”

  Lord Esket interrupted, “My Queen, this man’s claims are may echo those of Sir Rodon’s scout. But in truth, no Drommu would ever fight a Rhinolon.”

  The Queen kept a watchful eye on Bladeborn after Lord Esket said this. Bladeborn guessed she was assessing his character. Instead of responding to Esket, Bladeborn said, “I am…very grateful that a noble Queen would see fit to care for me…and I would like to personally thank the Knight who saved my life.”

  She smiled and said, “All in good time.” the Queen turned from the physician and walked over to the bed Bladeborn was in. Gracefully, she sat down next to him and said, “Warrior, for the past week you have been under my care in one of my private apartments.”

  “A week?” Bladeborn questioned, wondering if he had heard correctly. “I have lain here for that long?” He recognized most of the language she used, having been made accustomed to it by Nightslayer. It was like the language that the Drommu spoke and faintly like that spoken in Fortress City.

  The Queen continued
, “It has been that long. You seemed to be in some sort of trance, but my physician said you still had life in you. He could hear your heart beating, and you still drew breath… The Knight who found you, Sir Rodon Thell, had been watching the maneuvers of an unusually large group of Rhinolon soldiers. After the Rhinolon went into a box canyon, there was an earthquake—an occurrence almost unheard of here. All of us here in the First Realm felt the tremors.”

  “An ‘earthquake,’” Bladeborn said. “Such a thing is new to me, but I can understand it. I hope no one was injured here.”

  “No one was hurt,” the Queen said, smiling. “What was the last thing you remember?”

  “The tree fell… I was dragged behind a riding beast on a cot for several days. I remember little until I awoke here,” Bladeborn stated.

  The Queen continued, “One of the scouts spoke with the Drommu in the area, who said you were their war-leader. Is all that correct?”

  “Yes…” Bladeborn managed to say, coughing a bit. As he coughed, the Queen put her hand on his shoulder to calm him.

  When Bladeborn could speak again, he asked, “Who brought my Sword here?” Bladeborn was concerned that the last man he saw grasp the weapon by its hilt had killed himself with it.

  “Sir Rodon himself brought the weapon here. We laid it in its scabbard next to you days ago, before the fever broke.”

  “The Rhinolon often use poison on their weapons,” Bladeborn stated. “Your care has saved my life.”

  “Yes,” Deocarla continued. “About your Sword…there is some powerful magic within it. Is that true?”

  Bladeborn was relieved that no one had been injured by Nightslayer. He looked at the woman closer. Her smile seemed genuine, but there was sadness about her that Bladeborn could sense. He thought he could see in her eyes that she carried a heavy burden, and although she seemed noble and gentle, he also saw that she was unwilling to be completely open with him. Her shifting gaze suggested that she had something to hide.

  Still, he was glad to be alive. “You are correct, Queen Deocarla.” Bladeborn had struggled to pronounce her name right, but it sounded right when he did so. “Thank you for saving me, my Queen. I go by the name of Bladeborn,” he said.

  “You have helped my people a great deal, Bladeborn. While you were active in the Raider Marches, the Rhinolon shifted their attention away from our mountains. For the entire season, the Six Realms have been a safer place, and we have started to harvest food from the surface as we did in the days of old. Our Kingdoms are not wealthy like they once were. Over the centuries, the Rhinolon have captured those venturing to the surface in the Spiral Mountains. We have paid ransoms for their safe return, where possible, and it has drained our coffers. But you will find our people rich in spirit, I am sure.”

  The man whom Deocarla referred to as Lord Esket said, “Some men in the Kingdom are willing to share what they have gained over the years, and this is what keeps the economy going in lean times…”

  Deocarla frowned a bit, and gestured to her guardsman, “This is Lord Esket, my bodyguard.”

  “Good to meet you, my Lord,” Bladeborn said. Esket nodded curtly.

  Bladeborn thought about what the Queen and her bodyguard had said for a moment, then asked her, “So, this city is under the ground?”

  Queen Deocarla said, “To survive, our entire population moved beneath the surface generations ago. At first, growing food was difficult, but now we manage. We even raise herds of cavern cattle and deep sheep to keep us fed during long winter months. Our Six Realms are extensive underground complexes, linked by a long underground road, Many Families have been safe here for hundreds of years. We live together in peace.” The Queen looked at Bladeborn sadly, and said, “I guess it is difficult for you to understand.”

  “Not at all, good Queen,” Bladeborn replied. “I am from a place called Fortress City, where…”

  “Fortress City?” Lord Esket exclaimed in disbelief.

  The physician said, “That is the same unusual story he told earlier. The place has been emptied for centuries, my Queen.”

  Bladeborn simply sighed and again held his tongue.

  Queen Deocarla paused, and turned away for a moment, lost in thought. Then she continued with renewed strength, “For most of my life, we have dwelled below the ground, fearing to go under the grey sky and the red sun. But as I said, our people have been able to walk freely in the all the Valleys this year, as we used to. We…owe you our deep gratitude.”

  Bladeborn tried to sit up more in the bed, despite his pain.

  “Speak no more,” Queen Deocarla said. “You must rest.”

  The Queen of the First Realm turned to leave, but not before looking back at him with a half-smile. Bladeborn was filled with questions, but he didn’t have enough strength to ask.

  Again, the physician dressed Bladeborn’s wounds with medicinal herbs and replaced the bandages. Several of the injuries were carefully stitched, and his broken bones had been expertly set.

  While the physician worked to replace Bladeborn’s bandages, a Healer-Priest who looked to be as old as Onar entered the room. The Priest, perhaps seventy years old, wore an iron symbol of Saint Morth, and he asked Bladeborn to pray.

  Bladeborn said a brief, familiar prayer with the aged Priest, glad that they both shared similar religious beliefs.

  When the prayer was finished, Bladeborn asked, “Do all the humans in the realms worship Morth and hope for a place in the Heavens?”

  The aged Priest laughed, but didn’t answer Bladeborn’s question, instead saying, “My name is Brother Kregert. It is my pleasure to meet you.”

  “I am Bladeborn, and I am honored…but forgive me if I don’t shake your hand…”

  “Don’t over-stress your injuries in order to be polite, young man. I think all of us are quite amazed that you have survived. When I was your age, I was a Healer-Warrior, yet I never saw anyone live through trauma such as you.”

  Bladeborn listened, and replied, “Still, I’m certain you have seen much in your years.”

  Brother Kregert smiled gently. He casually took out a smoking pipe, and then used an Essence-based flame to begin smoking. Bladeborn watched him do this and was somehow comforted.

  Kregert took a few thoughtful puffs, then said, “I traveled far with King Rosen’s father and the Great Wizard of old. But the stories told about you seem difficult to believe. Rumor has it that you and a tribe of migrant humans from the north preyed upon the Rhinolon raiders for nearly a year. Is this true?”

  “Some of it is true,” Bladeborn answered. “However, I was not with humans. The Drommu were my comrades. We attacked Rhinolon caravans, mostly to free captured Drommu and let them return to their homes. Eventually our attacks became something more. The Drommu fought for vengeance.”

  “Ahh…” Brother Kregert said. He took a puff and then asked, “What did you fight for, then?”

  Bladeborn paused. He had never considered the question in that way, and he had no good answer.

  “You don’t have to answer, warrior,” Kregert said. “I can sense the good in you. You are a thoughtful soul.”

  The physician said, “Kregert, you have said your prayers… Now, let this man rest.”

  “I suppose you are right,” Kregert sighed, looking at the physician. He took another pull on his pipe and told Bladeborn, “I am going to report what I know of you to the Queen, young man. I think she will be impressed. I will come back to visit…Often. Do you, by any chance, know how to read?”

  “Yes, Brother Kregert. I can make out several languages and I read the printing common to Fortress City very well… If that is any help.”

  Kregert said, “I’ll bring some books by tomorrow. I assumed that someone as well-spoken as you are could read.”

  In a cloud of pipe-smoke, the Priest left, and the grumpy physician gave Bladeborn a strong drink which he gagged it down.

  The medicine made Bladeborn feel dizzy and soon he slept dreamlessly.

  It was s
ometime later when the Queen again visited, still accompanied by Lord Esket. She had Esket summon an elderly squire, whom the Queen whispered instructions to.

  The squire left and the Queen asked Bladeborn, “How do you feel?”

  “Hungry enough to eat a pack-beast,” Bladeborn smiled.

  The Queen replied, “We can do better than that, Bladeborn. I have sent a man to the kitchens.”

  They chatted a few minutes, and then food was delivered. Several squires brought in the most delightful repast Bladeborn had ever partaken in. Fruit, fresh fish, and varieties of well-cooked meat, several different vegetables, breads, and other new and delicious foods comprised the banquet. Near the end of meal, the mature squires answered Bladeborn’s questions about the foodstuffs: what everything was called in the Six Realms Language; and how it was prepared.

  The Queen and Esket watched Bladeborn eat, so despite his famished state, he used proper manners. Bladeborn felt that it pleased the Queen.

  When Bladeborn was finished, the Queen dismissed the squires, although Lord Esket stayed. Motioning to the writing desk in the room, she talked to Bladeborn about her letters.

  “During the week that you were ailing, I wrote to my brother, King Rosen of the Six Realms, about you. A runner delivered his response today. My Brother said I should trust you…what do you say, Man of the North?”

  “My Queen, I would like to repay you for saving my life,” Bladeborn claimed. “If there is ever anything I can do, I shall do it.”

  Deocarla laughed, and said to him, “Simply remember this moment, then. Do not make such a promise lightly.”

  “I think I can walk, with your help, good Queen. If you would take my arm I could try…”

  “You are a presumptuous one,” she said. “Yet no one sees but Lord Esket. Swing your legs from the bed and try to stand. I won’t let you fall…”

  With the aid of the Queen, Bladeborn stood up and walked with one hand about her waist, the other holding Nightslayer by the scabbard as a crutch. Slowly, he gained the ability to hobble about the room. He laughed with the Queen at his imbalance. Seeing her laugh made him feel good. She seemed to be very surprised that she could be made to laugh by such a simple thing. They talked a while longer and laughed about the simple things of life, like good food. Later, after she had gone, Bladeborn realized they both had been delighted with each other’s company.