Rohvim #1: Metal and Flesh (25 page)

None of us really believe that it is our soul itself striking an opponent, but to the common observer, that is what they would think. The same effect is observed when you chop off a person’s head, for example, which is how this power got its name. That needle you see above this section shows you how much strength you have left. You can only use this and other powers so much until your strength becomes lessened, and believe me, you will feel it. You’ll become weak, you might shake, and you’ll feel like eating an entire steer—in fact if you get too low, you’ll very well have to eat an entire steer to recover your strength.
The boys nodded.
Ready to try it?

Priam responded,
Let’s do this.
They left Arturo’s mind, and drew their swords.

“Now,” Arturo started, “Enter your minds, but stay here in the flesh, too. See your wall. Find the right section …”

The boys stood there, their eyes almost glazed over. Priam faintly replied, “I think I’ve got it.”

Aeden was shaking his head. “I can’t do it. How do you go in your mind and yet stay here?”

Priam goaded him, “Come on, Aeden, pull your head out. Literally.”

Aeden whacked him on the head. He tried again, drawing himself inward … there it was, he could see his mind’s wall, but was nearly oblivious to his surroundings. He looked around him and saw Arturo patiently waiting and Priam snickering, and lost sight of his wall. Arturo reassured him, “You’ll get it. We all do eventually. It’s like eating—you go without it for a week, and you might have trouble remembering what to do with the bread once it’s presented to you, but after five seconds it’s like you never fasted. That’s how regular people are—it’s like they’ve never eaten before, their jaws not sure of what to do when the bread is in the mouth. So it is with you. You’ll get it.” He turned to Priam, “Now boy, duel me, but save your burst of soul for when you make contact with my sword. And by the way, never, ever do this unless you’re holding the metal hilt of your sword firmly with your hand. Believe me, you’ll regret it if you’re not holding your sword. Now. Come at me.”

 Priam raised his sword and slashed at the Swordmaster who parried once, twice, and when the swords connected a third time, the blades flashed, and Arturo dropped his with a jerk. “Very well done!” He slapped Priam on the shoulder, and retrieved his sword. “Look at your strength. How is it?”

Priam’s eyes glazed, and he replied, “It hardly moved. Just a little. And it’s already gone back up.”

Arturo nodded. “Good. You gave me a good, solid shock. In real combat, if I was determined, I might not have dropped my sword, so you must increase the force when you get into a sticky situation. But well done for your first time. Shall we try again? This time, I will also shock you, and you focus on not letting go of your sword. It will hurt, but you will not be damaged.”

Priam nodded, and charged the man again, this time there was a flurry of sparks and light. The boy yelled in pain with every stroke, to the amusement of the master. Finally the man delivered a powerful blow, which flashed so bright that Aeden blinked. By this time, several of the other young members of the group had gathered around, cheering the flashing display. Priam dropped his sword with a cry, rubbing the palm of his hand. Arturo chuckled, and picked up Priam’s sword for him, offering it to the boy, who received it, remarking, “That was quite a shock, sir.”

Frederick chimed in, “That’s nothing. One time he made me lose feeling in my hand for a whole day!”

“You were just begging for it, mouthing off to me like you were.” Retorted the Swordmaster. They spent the next several minutes in a fantastic display of flashing swordsmanship. Sparks, light, shouts, cries, jagged lines of flashing energy that arced everywhere as Arturo began to use the full spectrum of a rohva’s sword dueling skills. Rupert grinned wildly. Darla clapped and jeered. Betha hollered and encouraged. Frederick joked and cajoled. Stuart hooted and fist-pumped the air. Aeden watched with a touch of jealousy. He had enough, and walked a few dozen paces off until he was looking out over the edge of the precipice, into the valley below. Small clearings punctuated the thickets of trees, and a light early morning mist still hung in the air.

Then Aeden saw them. Close to the bottom of the precipice’s wall, a group of people, moving quickly to the north. He squinted his eyes. They were armed and arrayed in the armor he had seen before on the soldiers of the stone-faced army. Others, with their hands tied behind their backs, were forced to march with them. Prisoners, most likely, he thought. His mind flashed to his home, of the master healer’s description of entire neighborhoods standing empty, the inhabitants disappeared. The image of his fallen, bloodied father floated up before his mind’s eye, and the image of his sister, which he had not the courage to face before in waking hours, intruded upon his thoughts.

His blood boiled, and he drew his sword. He ran back to the duelists and their cheering observers and shouted, “The stone-faced soldiers are down in the valley below! They have prisoners! If we don’t move now, they will escape, for they move quickly!” And he ran off, towards a path he had seen that would take him to the valley below. The youth looked at each other in shock, and determination, running after him.

Arturo called out, “Aeden! Wait!” But the young man did not heed him, nor did most of the others. He turned to Betha, “Go and alert the others. Tell them to meet us in the valley. Quickly!” and he likewise dashed after the youth. Lower and lower they ran, branches whipping them in the face, tripping over logs, until they reached the bottom, Aeden still madly dashing towards the group of soldiers, who took no notice of their pursuers. He ran to within one hundred yards of them, then slowed to allow the others to catch up. When they were near enough to him for his comfort, he sprinted towards the group, crossing the distance very quickly, for a rohva may run as a tiger for short distances.

He caught up to the soldiers in the rear, and they only became aware of him as they saw two heads of their companions roll past. They turned, and without a sound, drew their swords and attacked. In such small numbers they were no match for the whirlwind called Aeden Rossam. Like lightning he fell on them, dealing death to all who lifted their swords, screaming in a blood rage as they mustered and rallied against him. The others finally caught up and drew their swords to meet the onslaught, some eighty or so men and women pressing against them. Priam yelled and plunged into the group while his sword flashed with arcing energy, every soldier meeting his blade jolting a bit before falling to the ground. Frederick and Darla were wonders to behold as well, and Stuart, flushed red with the run, managed to fell several with his rolls, spins and plunges, though how he managed to move his mass with such acrobatic grace was beyond any of them.

Arturo fought with them now, cleanly slicing his way through his foes, though with less deadly precision and more unconsciousness inducing energy from his sword. He called out of the mass of flailing bodies, “We must fall back! Fall back! We need the others!”

“No!” Aeden screamed, and he charged forward. More soldiers appeared at their left, and a murmur from behind alerted them to a larger body of the army they had not seen. Twenty bodies at least lay dead at Aeden’s feet, and he drove onwards. He lost sight of Priam, who was a flurry of flashing energy amid a crowd of stone-faced warriors who plunged at him relentlessly. But the drone soldiers kept on coming. And coming. They soon found themselves surrounded by a mass of at least two hundred emotionless yet fatally determined soldiers.

Frederick yelled—Aeden glanced at him and saw blood streaming from the side of his head, but he stayed on his feet. Darla sprung to his side and they fought back to back against a fierce assault by the opposing army. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Arturo springing from soldier to soldier, disarming and coming close enough to touch an enemy’s head who then fell unconscious nearly immediately, and on to the next. Above the heads of his nearest foes, he saw a large group of the soldiers retreat, and he took heart, but noticed that the vast body of them remained determined to cut the small party down. Then, in a flash, it ended. From close nearby, an immensely loud snap and a flash of light was the last thing he saw before he fell down, knocked out by the force of whatever collided with his head.

When Aeden awoke, he smelled blood and death all around him. When his eyes focused, he found the master healer staring down at him, a look of rage on his face—not an expression he was accustomed to seeing on the old man. The healer, seeing Aeden awake, yelled, “You foolish, foolish boy! Is your head empty? Are you as empty minded as these drone soldiers?” He boxed Aeden on his ear as he shouted this, his fury breaking the healer’s usual calm. Aeden put his arm up to protest the beating, but groaned as he realized his head was nearly splitting open with searing pain. He looked around and saw the others waking up as well, rubbing their temples.

He lay amidst scores of dead bodies, what he saw as his trophies of revenge. He said, “Well master healer, at least we won. Look—“ he gestured to the fallen and to the freed prisoners who had huddled by the trees, “—the army is defeated, and we freed the prisoners.”

The old man socked the side of his head again, eliciting a cry of pain from Aeden. “You fool! Look around you! Do you see what you have done? You’ve killed all these people!”

Aeden cautiously answered, “Yes. They are soldiers, and this is a war. I thought our mission was …”

“Our mission was to eliminate the warlord! Not massacre a group of innocent people!”

Aeden squinted, replying, “They are hardly innocent, master. They are enemy soldiers.”

The master healer got himself under some control. “Aeden, these people are being controlled. Their actions are not their own. They are guilty no more than your sword is guilty—but the hand that wields it is another matter.”

Aeden burned with anger. “But master, you said yourself that every soldier you set free had been a criminal! Some were murderers!”

“Yes, some were. But most were petty criminals. Tell me Aeden, what is the proper punishment for petty thievery? From what it looks like here, you believe it is death. I’ll tell you, while you were asleep here, Betha and Diana and Edwin and Gregory and Ellen and I went from soldier to soldier, liberating them from bondage, defeating the warlord in each of their heads. Yes I saw criminals, but they do not deserve to die!” A bit of his previous fury leaked out, but he calmed himself again.

Slowly, the remorse grew in Aeden. He looked at the bloodied bodies, and he saw his father and his sister. Conflicted, he answered, “I’m … I’m … sorry, master. I saw them with those prisoners, and I just wanted to help them and I wanted to stop them from causing more pain and I … I ….”

Lady Ellen interrupted him. “Where is Priam?”

Aeden looked up at her. “He was with us the last time I saw him. Is he not still asleep?” The members of the party who had come to the rescue fanned out, while the rest of them struggled to their feet.

The others returned from their search, Ellen announcing, “He is gone.”

Betha said, “I thought I saw a group of them retreating before we arrived.”

The horrible possibility started to dawn on Aeden. Frederick remarked, “They took him.”

They stood in solemn silence for nearly a minute. Aeden came to. “We have to rescue him!”

The master healer, deep in thought, suddenly snapped, “Edwin, Arturo, Ellen, run ahead to the north and try to locate the group. If you don’t find them in an hour’s time, return here. The rest of us will wait, and heal.” The two men and woman at once dashed off, leaving the remainder there in the field of dead bodies and quivering townspeople. The freed soldiers also began to awake, and the master healer, Betha, Gregory, and Diana went among them, comforting the disoriented men and women.

Aeden, still stunned by the news of Priam’s disappearance, slumped onto the ground and cradled his head in his hands. Rupert approached him, hesitantly putting his hand and Aeden’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know you two were good friends.”

Aeden shrugged the boy’s hand off and mumbled, “Please. Go away.”

The gangly boy withdrew his hand and retreated a few steps. For an hour, Aeden sat there, reality forcing itself in on his mind with more force as the minutes passed. He looked in disgust at the bodies. He yearned for his friend. The smell of death filled his nostrils. He wanted death for himself.

The master healer, pausing a few minutes from his work amongst the freed soldiers, sat next to Aeden. “I do not retract the things I said. But do not hate yourself. These are trying times for us all. And you’re right, this is war, and ultimately the person behind this death and blood and pain will reap their reward. But in the midst of all this evil, we must not become evil’s ally. From now on, we do not kill enemy soldiers, except at extreme need should our very lives depend on it.” He paused, and Aeden nodded somberly. “Arturo and I will give more heed to training you in less … lethal methods of attack.”

Aeden stirred. “What happened there at the end? Why do I have this massive headache?”

“That is one of the non-lethal methods of attack I will teach you. It is akin to the soul shock that Arturo taught you. It is a blast of energy that incapacitates a rohva’s mind. All within its reach feel the effect to some degree, less so the farther you are from the wielder.”

At that moment, the three searchers returned. Lady Ellen spoke, “We saw traces of their trail, master, but they travel too fast for pursuit. They are far to the north by now.” The master healer nodded grimly as Aeden remained sitting on the ground, unable to speak. The rest of the party gathered the bodies into a pile and burned them, being too exhausted to dig proper burial mounds, and they led the townspeople and still dazed soldiers to the top of the precipice, so as to be out of the way of any more groups of the enemy passing through.

Still Aeden sat. The day lengthened and the shadows stretched, most of the company retired to their beddings near the campfire, after attending to the needs of the freed townspeople and soldiers, and still Aeden sat, cross-legged, staring to the north. He heard a distant voice calling him. He looked up, and squinting, he could see Betha waving her arms at him, beckoning.