Fate Rides Wicked: Volume I of the Lerilon Trilogy (19 page)

“Let’s just go.” With this they leapt into the sky and
vanished in the clouds at incredible speed. They would
travel the thousand miles in a little over three hours, setting
down just short of the south wall of the city of Crentin. In
the trees, out of view, Doleof changed back to human form.
He turned to Aquendar and said, “You are the only human
to know that we can change forms. Others suspect it and
tell tales about it but only you can be sure. You must keep
it a secret.”

“As long as I do not see it as a threat to Li, I will never
tell another soul. Take me to this Tych, so that I may show
him manners.”

Doleof began walking towards the army’s encampment.
“He will consider you a minion of Rangdor and try to kill
you. We will not let his magic touch you but there are
other things we do not have control over. Be very
cautious.”

The camp looked like an anthill that had just been
stepped on, soldiers scurrying around everywhere, trying to
get ready for the march. Doleof led him through the
mayhem and the soldiers around them cared little about two
men in their midst. Nobody really knew for sure who
belonged to the army and who didn’t.

Near the center of the field, overlooking a cleared area
where men practiced swordplay, they found Tych and
Lendril watching with discomfort. Aquendar turned to say
something to Doleof, but couldn’t find him. The dragon
had vanished before Tych could see him and recognize
him.

Aquendar strode forward, coming to a stop directly in
Tych’s view of the practice session. Tych’s expression
changed from disgusted to slightly amused to angry in mere
moments. The horsemaster merely sidled up so Tych’s
face rested against his plate mail, Aquendar being almost a
foot taller than the endaril.

For a moment, everything stopped. The practicing
soldiers lowered their weapons, others began to gather and
not even breathing could be heard. A cold breeze seemed
to blow by, kicking up Aquendar’s long braid.

The next thing Aquendar knew he lay on his back with
the endaril standing over his head, the horsemaster’s right
arm twisted in his hand. ‘Oh, forangen droppings,’ he
thought, ‘this guy’s good.’ With this he too moved rapidly
and Tych received both of the large human’s feet in his
face, sending him sprawling and freeing his grip on the
warrior’s arm. Blood flowed from Tych’s nose as he
somersaulted to a standing position and drew the jeweled
sword. He could also sense the prowess of his opponent,
and wondered how Lord Damarin could have been so easy.

The crowds gasped as Aquendar brought out his sword,
so huge did it stand. He readied himself and circled
uneasily with the Prince of the Endarils. Tych charged,
sword low, and the human struck down to deflect it. The
endaril wanted this because he buried his sword point with
the force of the thrust and used it to launch into the air and
plant both feet in the human’s face. He then landed on the
sword arm of Aquendar and removed the two-handed
sword from the battle.

Aquendar landed on his rear end and reached for his
right shoulder as Tych picked up the sword his father gave
him and approached. The prince still didn’t expect the
speed the big man showed as he dodged the sword without
getting up, planted both feet in Tych’s onrushing chest and
flipped him over his head into a nearby tent. The canvas
collapsed like a net, tangling the endaril up.

While his opponent struggled to free himself, Aquendar
stood and held his dislocated shoulder for a moment, then
popped it back into place with a grimace of pain. While the
endaril tried to get free, Aquendar retrieved his sword.
Turning back to his opponent, Aquendar was startled by a
giant column of flame that raced towards him but then seemed
to curve off to the left.

Tych stood not more than a couple of yards away, a
dagger in each hand. “I don’t know how you avoided that,
human, but you won’t fare so well against my daggers.”
As they circled, Tych fired one with a quick flick of the
wrist. Aquendar flicked it aside with an equally fast flick
of his sword and it planted in the ground to his right. Tych
grimaced, wondering what it would take to beat this guy.

They circled each other cautiously, and Tych paid
special attention to the fact that a two-inch blade stuck out
past the warrior’s knuckles of his right hand. As Aquendar
took a cut at Tych, the endaril threw himself backwards and
went into a flip. The endaril struck out to kick the hilt of
the human’s sword, but once again the warrior surprised
him. Instead of sending the sword flying, Aquendar
slapped him in the side of the knee with the flat of this
blade.

Tych’s flip went awry and he tumbled to the ground in
a heap, his dagger barely staying out of his own body. A
little dazed, he only barely moved enough to soften the kick
to his stomach that sent him onto his back. Groaning, he
concentrated on his sword not too far off. As Aquendar
raised his sword to strike, his father’s gift flew to his hands
and he smacked the giant blade aside. This knocked his
opponent off stride and Tych used the opportunity to grab
the human’s ankle and help him fall. Striking out with his
foot, he planted a boot in the human’s chin. Once again,
Aquendar surprised him and sent the endaril’s sword flying
with a kick to Tych’s hand, a move Tych had just missed.

The endaril had a move of his own snapping to standing
onto the human’s sword. Aquendar dodged Tych’s kick,
leapt to his feet and backed away. A dagger appeared in
his left hand and he balled his right fist to make the dagger
out of his glove. Two daggers appeared in Tych’s hands,
so quick that they seemed to materialize there. The two
circled each other, wary of what they faced.

In the pause, Tych took a deep breath, amazed at the
prowess of this warrior. The two warriors came together,
and rapid thrusts and parries ensued, as each tried to get a
dagger past the other’s defenses. Tych landed a fist
wrapped around a dagger hilt and sent Aquendar stumbling
backwards. The human attempted to block the next charge
with his left hand, but Tych crossed his daggers and ripped
the human’s dagger from his hand. Incredibly, the human
recovered and brought a right foot round kick to Tych’s
head.

They circled, each regaining their balance. With a
lunge, Aquendar drove his dagger-glove towards the
endaril. Tych threw himself to his back, placed both feet in
the onrushing stomach of his opponent, and launched him
into the air. The horsemaster slammed into a wagonwheel
and fell unconscious. Before either Corl or Doleof
could move, Tych straddled the prone body and turned it
over. He slapped the man awake.

“Now, my fair foe, you shall see yourself die.” He
raised both daggers, turned them point down and two sets
of hands lifted him off the ground by his extended arms.
They quickly set him down and stepped back before he
could strike out at them. Turning, a puzzled look came
over his face at the sight of Doleof and Corl. “What is the
meaning of this?”

“We brought him here,” responded Doleof. “You
needed to be shown you could be defeated.”

“But I wasn’t, so what have you proven?”

“Ah, but if he had been trying to kill you, you would
now be a corpse and the army would lose its greatest
warrior. He could have flipped you with that dagger-bracer
he’s wearing, or killed you with that monstrous sword
while you struggled to free yourself from the tent. The best
one of course would have been to repay your kind gesture
of waking him for his death by overpowering you and
placing your daggers in your own chest.”

Partially playing up the last possibility, the now standing
Aquendar said, “Indeed, I have killed tougher
opponents with such methods before.” This lie held truth
only in that he’d used the method before. Tych had proven
to be his toughest opponent, though for the purposes of the
humbling he would not admit it.

Tych pointed at a soldier and crooked his finger. The
soldier walked over and came to attention before him.
“Soldier, take him to the infirmary and see that he gets
excellent care. Carry his weapons.”

The soldier did as ordered and led Aquendar towards
the base of the city walls. As soon as they passed from
Tych’s sight, Aquendar relieved his guide of the huge
sword and the bow. The neftiran man felt like an ant next
to his imposing charge and he knew that Tych had done
this intentionally to help racial relations.

Tych, meanwhile, had some harsh words for his two
magicians. “I want you two to know that I don’t appreciate
being manipulated, either by somebody’s belief in destiny
or by the sense of...” he paused for the right word,
“ownership you seem to feel you have over me. Sadly, you
have proven your point and I have been humbled. I know
you want desperately for me to ask you what to do next, but
since this Aquendar is also a victim of your games, I will
ask him. He seems wise and well bred, and I shall have no
problem bringing his ideas to all my army since they’ve
seen him fight and admire that. Now, however, if you’ll
please excuse me. I have a meeting with King Daubert of
Polentair who arrived this morning.”

Doleof and Corl stood silently with expressions of
repentance painted on their faces. As Tych turned with
Lendril and began towards the city, the two great ones
turned the opposite direction and shared self-satisfied
smiles. These grins vanished immediately, though, as Tych
shouted back, “And get those silly grins off your face, you
ego-maniacs.” Both wizard and dragon shared expressions
of surprise and vanished from the camp in the blink of an
eye.

The two endarilan warriors first wove their way to their
tent. Already they had very little time left to get to the
mansion in the city where the king would meet with them
and they needed to get into their good dress armor. Upon
reaching the tent, their practice armor flew off and they
began putting on the white plate mail with the symbol of
the royal family of the endarils painted on the front. Tych
strapped on Gaylin with its jeweled hilt and for this
occasion, Lendril wore the jeweled scabbard and sword
Morg gave to Tych fifty years earlier.

Decked out in this royal finery and connecting the
clasps of white royal capes around their neck, the Prince
and Princess burst out of the tent and almost knocked over
Aquendar. He wore his plate mail and only his daggers
hung on his belt. “Let me join you. King Daubert and I go
back to his childhood.”

Tych did not like this request. “The king must be
young then.”

“Indeed, he is only just past twenty. I have come to be
trusted by his family and I taught him how to ride and care
for a horse. I may be of great service in helping attain what
you want.”

Still skeptical, the prince asked, “Is that the finest armor
you own? I wish to make a good presentation of me and
my charges.”

“Daubert is my friend and he would not recognize me
in clean, new armor like yours. What have you to lose by
bringing me along?”

“I suppose you’re right. I hope you’re up to some fast
moving, or we’ll be late.” Tych and Lendril turned towards
the city and began a little trot. Aquendar followed after,
knowing a ‘thank you’ would be inappropriate with one of
so little emotion. The three jogged through the gates and
down the long cobblestone road to the mansion, still
covered with confetti from the parade thrown for the
victors a few days earlier. At precisely two hours before
zenith, they arrived at two, heavy wooden doors, embossed
with the metal seal of the Kingdom of Polentair and with
the red and blue banners of her armies.

The guards recognized them and opened the doors.
One of them pointed towards a door at the end of the
hallway. “Go to the end and tell the man at the door your
official names and titles. He’ll announce you.” With a
smile, the soldier added, “Good luck, Commanders.”

The warriors stopped in front of a very tall, very skinny
man wearing a brown tunic with a long tail in back and
trousers that ballooned above boots that came halfway up
his leg. Tych handed him a slip of paper. “Please
announce us as written on this piece of parchment.”

“As you wish, sir.” The courtier bowed deeply and
turned to the door. It opened into the throne room and once
inside he shouted, “Presenting Prince Tych di Corl,
Commander of the New Army of Li. Also presenting
Princess Lendril di Rutif, Commander of the New Army
and,” the befuddled man paused. He turned to the three
outside. “Who is he?” He pointed at Aquendar.

“I am Aquendar of Concrof, a friend of the King.”

With a grunt of disbelief, the man turned and said,
“And Aquendar of Concrof, a friend of the King.”

The three entered and, much to their surprise, the King
had come halfway across the throne room and had his arms
outstretched. “Aquendar, my old friend, it is good to see
you again.” He embraced the large man and turned to the
two royal members of the endarilan race without taking his
left arm off his friend’s shoulders. “Ah, the royalty from
up north. I hear I am deeply in your gratitude. Come sit on
those cushions before my throne and we will talk.” An
ebullient, blond haired, brown-eyed young man led them
back towards the throne, his arms around Aquendar and
Tych.

The endarils just stared ahead at the cushions, amazed
at this outburst of enthusiasm. No such thing would have
been seen in the Hidden Kingdom. With the clank of metal
armor, the warriors sat down as the King did on his throne.
“So, Prince Tych, you have saved my most northern
outpost. Under normal circumstances there would have
been three times as many men here and Damarin would
have only continued his harrying.”

“Where are all the other men?”