Sword of Light (23 page)

“May the blessings of the One shine on you and your city, Captain.”  Hailyn added.

“And you as well, Sister.”  Janue said with a nod of his head.  “Safe travels.”

When Jake and Hailyn rode towards the gate, Janue stood in his saddle and shouted.  “Hail to the servants of the One and our saviors!  Hail!”

“HAIL!”  The soldiers shouted in unison, shaking the weapons as they rode past.  “HAIL!”

With the sound of the soldiers’ cheers echoing behind them, Jake and Hailyn turned their horses north and rode away in the dawn of a new day.

C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN

Dominic stood next to Shadow, gently stoking the horse’s neck, hidden from any passerby’s sight by the overhanging branches of the forest.  They had stopped to rest the horses again, the uneven ground under the trees making the travel slow and tiring for their mounts.  Behind him, he could hear the soft conversation between Moshanna and Taric as the cleric examined their horses.

Dominic was gazing across the gently sloping ground towards the main north-south highway, the way he would have preferred to travel.  The forest ended abruptly, its edge clearly defined from logging and the animal grazing that had occurred over the long years.  It formed the western border of the great valley that ran the greater part of Aletonia, stretching between the Gray Ridges and the costal mountains.  It was the main farming area of the country; mostly open fields with little villages dotting the valley floor, many near the main road.

After they had left the Keep and crossed the Gray Ridges, following a little-used mountain pass, Moshanna had been adamant that they should stay in the forest.  He argued that it was better to travel unseen, albeit slower, than have to explain their purpose to every passing patrol.  While Dominic was not convinced of the logic, this was Moshanna’s country, so he had deferred to his judgment.

There is something that he is keeping to himself.
  Dominic thought.  While he trusted the man, he could sense a deeper reason was behind Moshanna’s reluctance to travel openly.

He glanced back at the two, the contrast in personalities striking.  Moshanna was dressed in his armor, with a rough hooded cloak hanging from his shoulders, while Taric was back in his brown cleric’s robe, his chainmail hidden beneath.  Moshanna, his dark face serious and alert, was listening politely as Taric, a broad smile across his face, was attempting to get Moshanna to laugh at his jokes.

Shaking his head, Dominic returned to his study of the road.  As he gazed out at the valley, his left hand coming to rest lightly on his swordhilt, the touch seemed to direct his thoughts back to the short time that they spent at the Keep.

They had passed though the Keep’s main gate in the late afternoon of the second day following Jake and Hailyn’s departure.  After a short report from the guards, they rode directly into the main chamber of the Keep, the carriage carrying Tomaris and Taric stopping next to the stairs.  Several of Moshanna’s soldiers arrived and took the horses to the stables while he, Moshanna and Taric had joined Tomaris in his dining hall.  Dinner was brought and after they had finished eating, Tomaris spoke.

“With Jake and young Hailyn searching the northern prospect, you will go south.”  The old man had said.  “There are clues that indicate that a possible location of the sword is in the far south of Aletonia, near the Southern Wilds.  There was a word that was repeated in several of the clues - Parshis.  It took me some time, but I finally determined that this is a reference to the ancient ruins currently known as Parshalthia.  These ruins of a long-lost city are located deep in the rocky hills that border the Wilds.”

“I have heard of that place.”  Moshanna said.  “Most travelers know to avoid it.  It is said that if you enter that city, you will never come out.”

“Which makes it an ideal place to hide the sword.”  Tomaris replied.  “It is possible that our enemies have taken steps to encourage that reputation to keep the clerics and others away.”

“If there are demons there, shouldn’t we have more clerics than myself?”  Taric asked.  “I am not afraid of facing demons, but if there are enough present, I will not be able to stand against them.”

“You might find nothing but long-abandoned buildings and dust.”  Tomaris said reassuringly.  “However, if you can determine that the sword is there, then you will need to recruit additional allies.  Perhaps the Aletonian clerics would assist.”

“That assumes we don’t get ourselves killed before we can send such a request.”  Taric replied sarcastically, a grim smile on his face.

“I have the utmost confidence in your abilities.”  Tomaris said pleasantly.  “Besides their fighting skills, Dominic knows how our enemies think and act while Moshanna knows the people and the land in which you travel.  You are strong in your power, giving them protection from the dark power of the demons.  Keep your faith in the Creator.”

Tomaris stood.  “You should rest.  You will leave tomorrow night, slipping out while the Keep sleeps.  While I am confident that our enemies cannot penetrate the Keep, it is prudent to assume that they have informants watching it.”

Dominic and Taric had been given rooms near where he and Jake had stayed during their time at the Keep.  Dominic had taken advantage of the bath to clean up.  When he had come out to the main room, drying off, there had been a gentle knock on the door.  He cracked open the door to see Tomaris standing in the hallway.

“May I come in?”  The old man had asked.

Dominic nodded, stepped aside and allowed him to enter.  Tomaris had gone over to sit on the edge of the bed across from the desk.  Dominic retreated into the bath area, putting on a clean shirt and pants and returned.  He pulled the chair away from the desk, his sword belt hanging over the back of the chair, and sat down.

“I do not mean to interrupt your relaxation, but I wanted to speak with you alone.”  Tomaris said once he had settled.

“What do you wish to say?”  Dominic asked.

“You have the most experience dealing with our enemies.”  The old man replied, staring into Dominic’s eyes.  “While Moshanna and Taric are confident in their skills and power, they will naturally look to you for leadership.  I know why you refuse healing if you can, but in this quest, I must ask you to allow Taric to heal you.  Your battle knowledge may be critical for success.  This quest is more than simply helping the child return home.  With the Guardian’s sword, we may have a tool to rid this world of the demons and their influence.  Think of all of the innocents that may be spared the terror that the demons bring if we succeed.”  He paused for a moment.  “Will you give me your word that you will accept healing?”

“I will accept healing, if refusing would prevent me from continuing.”  Dominic replied directly.  “I will not accept it for minor or trivial wounds.”

“That will be sufficient.”  Tomaris said quietly.  He continued gently.  “Someday, I hope that you will be able to let go of your pain and stop punishing yourself.  Some things are beyond our control, no matter how much we think otherwise.”

“Only death will release me from my loss.”  Dominic stated bluntly.

“As you will, Dominic.”  Tomaris said, nodding his head.  “I do not wish you to be angry with me.  Please forgive me if I have caused you any additional hurt.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Tomaris.”  Dominic said with a wave of his hand.  He smiled briefly.  “Jonas has been saying the same things to me for years.”

They sat in silence for a few moments.  Dominic was content to wait until the old man spoke.

“May I see your sword?”  Tomaris asked suddenly, holding out his hand.  “I would like to see how the Mastersmith used the formula I gave Jonas.”

Shrugging, Dominic reached behind him and drew his sword, handing it to Tomaris.  The old man sat there studying the blade for a bit, running his fingers over it, eyes sharp, looking closely at the metal.  He turned it over in his hands, then held it out to Dominic, hilt first.

“That is marvelous work; he is a skilled craftsman.”  Tomaris said as Dominic took the sword.  When he pulled it back, he saw a trace of blood on it.  Tomaris looked down at his hand, a small cut visible on his palm.  “You keep it sharp as well.”  He said with a chuckle.

Tomaris reached out with his robe sleeve and quickly wiped the blood off the blade.  He pulled out a piece of cloth from his robe, wrapping his hand as Dominic put away the sword.  “The curse of old age: slow reflexes.”  Tomaris said wirily, rising from the edge of the bed.  “I will let you get some rest and see you off tomorrow night.”

The following night, after the Keep had gone to sleep, Dominic, Moshanna and Taric went down to the stables.  They were saddling their horses when Tomaris appeared and went over to Moshanna.  Even though they spoke softly, Dominic was able to hear what they said in the quiet of the night.

“I know that you do not wish this trip, my son.”  Tomaris said, laying a hand on his shoulder.  “You are needed or I would not ask it of you.”

“I have pledged to obey you.”  Moshanna had responded.  “I go where you command, Tomaris.” 

Tomaris simply nodded, then stood by, waiting until they were saddled and ready to ride.  He stepped close and said.  “If you are successful, there may be a new dawn in this world.  Trust and protect each other.  Look for allies along the way.  May the blessings of the Creator go with you.”

They had ridden out through a secret tunnel that emerged deep in the Gray Ridges.  Moshanna led them through the mountains and into the forest without incident.

A wagon appeared on the road below, bringing Dominic out of his memories.  He was about to turn to speak with the others when something about the wagon stopped him.  He looked at it closely, the figures small at this distance.  He saw a rider on a horse in front of the wagon, with a slim man and a large man riding the wagon.  As he watched, he could just make out the white hair on the slim man.

He swung up into Shadow’s saddle.  He glanced over at the other two, who were looking curiously at him.  “Wait here.”  He said shortly as he rode into the forest, paralleling the road.

…

Martis was lost in thought as Ranech drove the horses, Frader riding a little ahead of the wagon.  He was trying to figure out how he could recover from where he had fallen.  He just knew that he needed to get somewhere safe.  Ever since they had fled that cursed town Numaria, he had been calling in his accounts and cashing out.  He had closed his accounts in Beragan, collecting the gold that was safely stored in the wagon’s secret compartment.  They had ridden into Aletonia, cautiously making their way south, stopping at villages or towns only when they needed supplies or where he had interests.  His caution was well founded, as his former business partner had made abundantly clear.  He felt a surge of anger and fear as his mind drifted back to those events.

Just two days ago, they had stopped at Jaquin’s store in a medium sized town north of where they currently were.  He and Martis had ties that stretched back years, ties that had been profitable for both.  After some haggling, Martis had sold him his shares of the outstanding business they still had together.  Jaquin had driven a hard bargain, sensing Martis’ desire to be gone, and purchased the shares for a fraction of their worth.  Martis had hated to sell for the price he did, but he wanted to sever all of the ties that could lead back to him.

Jaquin had invited them back to his home, which was on the outskirts of town, asking that they join him for a meal before they leave.  They had arrived at Jaquin’s home, a large wooden structure with a stone fireplace, simple but elegantly constructed, befitting a relatively successful merchant.  They sat in the living area, drinking wine while Jaquin’s wife, a pleasant and attractive woman in a dress that emphasized her large bosom, and their son, a thin boy in his mid-teens, prepared the evening meal.  When they finally sat down to eat, Jaquin sent his son out on an errand.

“Just something that needs to be done tonight.”  Jaquin said when he saw Martis frown at the departing lad.  “The boy can eat when he finishes his duties.”

It was after the meal, as Jaquin and he were sitting in two overstuffed chairs, sipping more wine and talking, when Martis figured out what the errand was about.

“Martis, I heard a disturbing report the other day.”  Jaquin said as he absently swirled his wine in his cup, his eyes sharp and predatory.  “A customer was talking about how a man was wanted in Sanduas for consorting with demons.”

Martis stiffened, glancing over at Ranech and Frader, who were talking and flirting with Jaquin’s wife in the next room.  He tried to cover it by coughing, but he could tell that Jaquin had seen his movement.

“He pulled out the description and showed me.  There is quite a large reward offered to whoever brings in an older white-haired man, posing as a merchant.  He is said to be accompanied by two hired hands.”  Jaquin said quietly.  His face had a cruel smile on it, greed in his eyes.  “You can imagine my surprise when I realized that it was none other than my old business partner.”

Terror coursing through his body, Maris lashed out and smashed his cup into Jaquin’s face, sending him tumbling out of his chair, while crying out to Frader and Ranech.  He heard Jaquin’s wife begin to scream, which cut off when Ranech wrapped his arm around her throat and squeezed.  Frader ran over and, at Martis’ nod, thrust his knife into Jaquin’s chest as he was trying to get off the carpet.  He groaned and shuddered, then sank back to the floor, his blood spreading its dark stain across the light carpet.  Ranech squeezed and twisted his arm, breaking Jaquin’s wife’s neck.  She collapsed when he released her, a crumpled heap on the floor.

Panting from fear, Martis had ordered them out.  Frader overturned some lanterns as they raced out to the wagon, setting the house ablaze.  As they rode away, angling away from the town, they caught a glimpse of soldiers riding along the road, torches held high, heading to Jaquin’s.  They rode as fast as the night would allow, circling back to the road and riding through the night. 
We can head to the far south and ride over the mountains into the city-states. 
He thought. 
I can find a place to hide out there.  Hopefully.