Once We Were Kings (Young Adult Fantasy) (The Sojourner Saga) (6 page)

Read Once We Were Kings (Young Adult Fantasy) (The Sojourner Saga) Online

Authors: Ian Alexander,Joshua Graham

Tags: #Young Adult, #rick riordan, #percy jackson, #c.s.lewis, ##1 bestseller, #epic fantasy, #Fantasy, #narnia, #christian fantasy, #bestseller

BOOK: Once We Were Kings (Young Adult Fantasy) (The Sojourner Saga)
12.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Never one to admit it, Edwyn had always envied Mooregaard's status as a knight of the Order of the Scarlet Pendragon.  What was it about him?  His sword, his chainmail, his commanding stature?

Inclining her head in response, Lady Volfoncé continued with the introductions.  Edwyn stood patiently awaiting his trio of students.  This time, he thought, for once in my seven years as a royal tutor, please let them be different.  Not just sheep incapable of independent thought.

By the time Volfoncé finished the introductions and all thirty-one students had been matched with their tutors, she clasped her hands together and said, "Now then.  Any questions?"

"Yes, Milady." A girl at the far end of the courtyard stood.  She may have been about nine or ten years old and didn't notice that she had put her splendid red gown on backwards.

Volfoncé covered her mouth to suppress a laugh.  "Yes, dearest."

"Besides mathematics, astronomy, literature and physi...phizzi.."

"Physical Sciences, precious one," Volfoncé assisted, endearment beaming from her countenance, "among other disciplines."

"Yes, physical sciences.  Aside from those, will we be taught....uhm...Oh, bother, what is it called...?  Oh yes!  Will we be taught magic?"

Volfoncé retained her smile, but her eyes dimmed under arched brows.  She stood silent for a moment.  The backwards dressed girl blanched and sat right down with a wordless apology on her face.

"If by magic," Volfoncé said, low and foreboding, "you mean, illusionism, and sleight of hand, as performed by court entertainers, you've clearly misunderstood the elevation of your station."

"I'm sorry, ma'am," said the girl, "I... I just meant—"

"There is no other kind of... of... magic!" Volfoncé glared down her upturned nose.  "Never forget that you have been called to royalty.  The future of this great kingdom is with you, oh blessed children.  And in this future, there shall be no trace of that terror imposed upon the gentle and learned people of Valdshire Tor by those fanatical Sojourner zealots.  Do I make myself clear?"  Slowly, her gaze swept across the courtyard scrutinizing every eye, now affixed to hers.  "To all of you?"

Not a sound.

"Very well, then."  Volfoncé spread open a fan and flapped it at herself.  The warmth in her tone and demeanor returned.  "There shall be time enough for all questions, dear ones.  But you shall take them up with your tutors."

Even Edwyn breathed a sigh of relief.  It had been nearly twenty years ago when Edwyn himself sat at those tables and received his orientation by Lady Volfoncé.  And while she seemed only to grow more beautiful with the passage of time, her formidable presence never abated.

"Now, children," she said, sharp as the tip of a dirk.  "Line up before your tutors.  Your orientation begins presently."

An excited commotion ensued as each of the children got up and went about finding their assigned mentors.  Edwyn stood tall and haughty as his three new students gathered around.

"Folen?" he read from a list written on vellum.

"That's me."

"Stewan?"

"Here, sir."

"And finally," he looked down at the last boy, whose face was turned and watching his brother walking off with Lord Mooregaard.  "Render."

The boy did not turn his head.

"Render!"

"Yes!" Jolted, he spun around with a gasp.   He bumped into Folen, who shoved him back nearly causing him to trip over his own feet.

Hapless.

A pair of whelps and a day dreaming youth.  Edwyn sighed.  The coming year promised to be every bit as stimulating as those prior.  He rolled his eyes.  "Follow me."

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

 

 

The old man's warning continued to resound within Ahndien's mind.  But nothing could stop her from flying down the mountain trail and back to her home.

As she came to the foot of the hill, less and less of her burning village could be seen above the tall palms and bamboo leaves.  But the acrid smell of burning huts and the dark tendrils of smoke clawing into the sky was more than enough a signpost.

Branches and leaves scraped her arms.  Father's sword rattled against her side as she ran down the dirt path.  Foolish!  Why had she taken the sword, to protect herself from rabbits?  How would Father defend the family?

She must have been running for at least fifteen minutes.  Burning air filled her lungs with each breath.  Her legs defied the pain.  Each step brought her closer to the fumes.  But the shouting, the commotion, the sound of struggle diminished as she got nearer.

Tears blurred her vision. 

Gasping, choking, knees failing. 

No!  Keep running. 

Soon, too winded to continue, Ahndien stopped.

Still in the distance, now with the sun setting behind black, billowing clouds of smoke, she saw the village a bit further down the path.  If only she could run for another minute.  Then she'd arrive.  But what then?

Doubled over, hands on her thighs, Ahndien leaned back against the smooth striped trunk of a bamboo tree and wept bitterly.  The old man up at the mountain top had been right.  It was too late.

Now, the only sound she heard over her own sobs and coughs were those of the Torian soldiers.  Laughing and swearing in that accursed accent, that twisted dialect of the common tongue which represented the demons of the West.  It could mean only one thing:

They were leaving.

On the tips of her toes, she stepped forward taking care not to make a sound.  Between the trees she now could see the entire village burning.  Except for the remaining Torian soldiers poking through the ashes, no one stirred.

Ahndien tried in vain to swallow the tension lodged in her throat.   Where were Ah-Ma and Ah-Ba and Shao-Bao?  And everyone else for that matter?  If only she could get past the leaves and branches.  But she dared not move.  She held her breath as a pair of Torians walked by, not a stone's throw from her.

Just then, a loud shriek rang out above. 

Ahndien let out a gasp. 

Immediately she covered her mouth and braced herself behind a tree.

"What was that?" one of the soldiers said.

"You fool," the other said and pointed upwards into the sky.  He laughed.    "It's just a bird.  See?"

"You're the fool!  It's a vulture.  Coming to pick the bones clean."

For fear she might wretch, Ahndien held her mouth tighter.

"By its marking, you idiot," said the first.  "A blind man could see that it's an eagle."

The second soldier did not reply.  He kept staring up.  His lips started to move, but now words came out.  Then he began to point.  Finally, he said, "Whatever it is, it's coming at us!"

At that, they both ran, cowards that they were, and mounted their horses, just as the bird—the size of a horse—landed on the ground where they had fled.  The magnificent creature tilted its head, jerked it side to side, surveying the destruction.  It almost looked sad.

  The eagle was every bit as terrible as it was beautiful.  But Ahndien dared not move.  Its razor sharp talons and beak were more frightening than a Torian sword.  It let out a piercing cry, which caused the fleeing soldiers to blubber as they fled.  Then the eagle itself spread its massive wings and sent a strong gust that bent the tree branches to the point of breaking as it flew off into the sky.

Finally, after it had vanished, Ahndien drew a deep breath.  It was time.  Tears stinging her eyes and the hilt of Ah-Ba's sword shaking between her fists, she descended the path to the burning village.

"Ah-Ba?" she whimpered, entering the gates.  "Ah-Ma?"  Neither  responded.  "Shao-Bao?" 

Nothing. 

She pushed the draping palms aside.  All at once her heart sank.  Strewn all over the ground were men, women and their children.  All dead.  Some of their clothes continued to burn.  Others lay in pools of blood.  None moved.

Every hut, burned to the ground or in the process.  Carts overturned, fruits and vegetables scattered and crushed.  The hideous stench of what Ahndien could only imagine was burning flesh made her stomach twist.  The word "no" kept repeating silently on her lips.

Then something arrested her steps, her very breath.

Past the south wall, which had been smashed open, the clinking gears and grinding wheels of those monstrous siege engines and trebuchets pulling away caused the hair on the back of her neck to prickle.  Ahndien dropped behind a fallen cart and gasped.  Her entire body quaked.  Every breath stuttered between clenched teeth.  Her knuckles went pale, as she strangled the hilt of Ah-Ba's sword.

A large shadow from above passed over.  The giant eagle.

The Torian soldiers' voices faded into the forest along with their monstrosities.  It could not have taken but a few minutes, but to Ahndien it was an eternity.

Now came the dreadful task of looking for her family through the bodies and debris. 

Let them be alive.  Please.

When she arrived at the well, where ten paces to the south her house should have been, her knees grew weak.  She fell upon them.  The sword dropped from her hands and clanked against the rocks.

"Ah-Ma!" she cried out.  "Shao-Bao!"  In the fallen doorway of her hut, Mother lay still, face down with her arm draped over Shao-Bao.  Arrows protruded from their backs and smoke continued to rise from their clothes.  "No!"

She tried to get up, to run to them.  But it was no good.  Instead, she fell on her face and cried out in anguish.   Like everyone else around, her family was dead. 

She wanted to scream.  Release the horror, the dagger of sorrow and regret that impaled her heart.  But, for fear of betraying her presence, she held her hands tightly over her mouth as she rocked back and forth, shaking her head.

No amount of sobbing could dislodge the pain in her chest, her knotted innards. 

 "Ah-Ma!"  The words caught.  "Ah-Ma.  I'm so sorry."

And finally, the sight of poor little Shao-Bao, clutching a toy bird, would have overcome her utterly.  But she noticed that Ah-Ba was not present.

"Ah-Ba!" she cried, abandoning any care or reason.  Where was he?  Again she cried out, "AH-BA!" 

If only she could just lie down and die there, with her mother and brother.  She would have spent the rest of the day, on her knees, sobbing.

If not for the feral snarls of a wild animal, approaching from behind.

 

 

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

 

 

The low-pitched growl vibrated in the ground through Ahndien's sandals.  From the depth of the sound, it must have been that of a very large predator.  Slow and steady, she reached for the handle of the sword, slipped her hand through its lanyard and grasped it.

All at once, the creature's furious roar flew above her, just as she spun around and swung the long, straight blade of Ah-Ba’s sword.  A wash of tawny brown flashed before her and she let out a shout.  Before she could even complete the stroke, a deep and dull pain caught her forearm.  Ahndien cried out in pain.  Her eyes felt as if they'd bulge out of her head when she saw it.

Her arm, now about to be crushed or torn off, lay in the cruel grip of a mountain lion's jaw.  Its glassy brown eyes fixed hard upon Ahndien's, not blinking, almost daring her to move.

Then, as if the shock were not complete, something even more freakish happened.  With its jaws still clamped, the mountain lion gazed straight at Ahndien, as if it would speak to her.  And that is exactly what happened.

// LITTLE GIRLS SHOULD NOT PLAY WITH SWORDS //

"What?" she cried out.  The beast's fangs bore down harder, increasing the pain.  Though she was aware of this pain, she was too confused to care.  "What manner of evil is this?"

 // YOU HAD BEST DROP IT...//

The mountain lion snarled, his otherworldly voice both aristocratic and sinister.

//...SOMEONE MIGHT GET HURT //

Two more mountain lions leapt over the burning ruins of Ahndien's neighbor's house and into the courtyard.  Her blood went cold.

I must be going mad, she thought. How can this creature speak? 

With her arm in the beast's jaw, neither its mouth nor tongue moved.  Nevertheless, she would not relinquish Ah-Ba's sword.

The other two mountain lions stalked closer.  The one biting down on her arm yanked and shook her arm.  

// THE SWORD OR YOUR ARM?  DECIDE! //

Ahndien shuddered.  It was clear now.  The creature did not speak aloud.  Somehow, she could hear its thoughts.  Whether or not the massive feline knew this, she couldn't be certain.

The beast clamped down harder still.  Ahndien let out a sharp gasp.

Just then, a large shadow passed over them.  What followed happened so quickly it was near impossible to recall the details.

A shrill cry from above.

With glassy eyes, the beast gazed into the sky, alerted with apprehension.

The two other mountain lions stepped back.

Ahndien's arm was free.  Just as a swooping wind and flapping sound rushed down.  A wash of brown and white surged past her eyes.  She fell back and hit the ground.

When the dust cleared, she turned her gaze upwards.  Well into the distance she discerned what appeared to be an eagle, the eagle, soaring high into the air and clutching a kitten in its talons.

Only, it was no kitten.

For on the ground, the mountain lion who had attacked her stared with its mouth agape.  In the grasp of the bird's talons was one of the two mountain lions that had come to assist him.

Ahndien squeezed her eyes and blinked twice.  How could this be?  The eagle was enormous!  Then screaming in terror, the mountain lion fell from the massive eagle's clutches and hit the rocky ground with a bone cracking thud.

Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Ahndien bolted to her feet sword at the ready.  The eagle returned causing the remaining two mountain lions to flee from the village gates and into the bush.  Ahndien feared the colossal bird of prey would come for her next. 

But it changed its course.

Other books

Can Anyone Hear Me? by Peter Baxter
B000U5KFIC EBOK by Janet Lowe
The Manning Grooms by Debbie Macomber
Cold Cruel Winter by Chris Nickson
Rougher Than Ever by JT Holland
When We Fall by Kendall Ryan
Millionaire Husband by Leanne Banks
Shadow The Baron by John Creasey
Columbine by Miranda Jarrett