The Black Sword Trilogy: The Four Nations (28 page)

             
“Like you could have stopped the forest from being harmed?”

             
“Damn right!” He said, his voice cracking a little.

He pulled the Sword from its scabbard and looked at it sorely.

              “What the good of having this thing if I can’t stop evil from happening?” He asked nearly crying.

             
“Evil is going to happen whether you like it or not.  No weapon of any make can stop that.”

             
“But if I hadn’t gone to bed, none of it would have ever happened.  The Admiral…all those people would still be alive.”

             
“Perhaps, but what would have happened if you hadn’t gone to Sheyron at all?”

He looked at her image and thought for
a moment.  What would have happened if I hadn’t gone to Sheyron?

             
“Think about it.  Time doesn’t stop in a place simply because you’re not there.” She continued.  “That plot had been forming for years and was going to happen whether you were there or not.”

             
“But I was there!  I could have saved them!”

             
“There you go again thinking you are more powerful than all the thoughts, plans and wills of others.  It is arrogance to think that the sun rises and sets around you alone.”

He then found himself staring at
the blade of the Sword.  It was so smooth and like glass, the stars reflected on the blade.

             
“The Sword is only a tool.” Shadow said.  “It is a great tool, yes; but ultimately it is the hand of a simple and fallible man that wields it.  It makes you physically stronger and faster and can make you do things that you would have never thought possible; but it doesn’t change the man.”

             
“I’ve felt more confident when I wield it.”

             
“That’s not the Sword.” She said sternly.  “It is what’s inside you and the moment you face that brings what is best or worst out of you.”

And after that, she disappeared.

              Just after dawn the next day, they passed the ruins of what was once the great city of Breian.  They could still the remnants of Turin’s fleet in the harbor and in the distance could still see some of its tall towers.  Most of it was overgrown by dense forest and instead of the sounds of a lively city; they heard the sounds of strange animals and birds coming from the trees and bushes.

             
Terri found Captain Shorn standing on the deck and looking towards heavy clouds that seemed to wrap around the sea, but not directly overhead.  He could see lightning flashing and heard the soft booming of distant thunder.

             
“You look worried.” She said to him.

             
“Not worried,” He replied, “Just a little spooked.”

             
“Why’s that?” She asked with a little laughed.

             
“See that storm out there?” He asked pointing to the clouds.

             
“I don’t think I could miss it.”

             
“We should have passed right through the teeth of it three days ago.”

             
“I guess we’ve been lucky.”

             
“That storm has gone completely around us.  And did you notice how smooth the sea has been for these full five days?”

             
“It’s been like glass.”

             
“Aye and the wind has been perfect as well.  You know how many times I’ve seen it like this for five whole days and with perfect wind in our sails in my forty years at sea?”

             
“How many?”

Her looked at her grimly and said, “Never.”

Terri looked over her shoulder at Kenner who looked as if looking at the same storm.

             
“Must be the Sword.” She said.

             
“Maybe,” the Captain answered.  “But if so, it must have the power of the Lady herself.”

             
The night of the sixth night, Terri finally found the courage to face Kenner.  She hadn’t been afraid of anyone in a very long time.  Even when near her own death just a few days earlier had she really been afraid, but at that moment she was terrified.  It reminded her of when she was a girl on the farm and having to face her father when she’d done wrong.

             
She stepped up to him and for the first time since the palace, she noticed his eyes look at her.  Again, he didn’t look angry, but like her father had so many times before the Army, he looked disappointed.

             
“So are you going to ignore me the whole way to Merz?” She asked him in a joking tone.  She tried a little laugh, but it didn’t sound honest.

             
“We need to talk about your drinking.” He finally said.

She suddenly felt angry.  A painful rage began to grow inside of her, like a fire starting to grow out of control.

              “Don’t start.” She said, restraining from yelling.

             
“How drunk were you that you were helpless against those soldiers?  And what about the night before when you had to be carried back to your room?”

She then pointed at him angrily

              “If you want to remain friends, you will not say another word on this subject.”

             
“I am your friend!  I care about you!  But you almost got yourself killed…”

             
“Enough!” She shouted.  “You have no right to lecture me about anything.  You have no idea what I’ve been through or what I’ve faced over these past two years.”

             
“Then tell me damn it!” He said standing.  “Help me to understand so I can help you!”

             
“Don’t give me those honey words!  ‘You’re my friend’…’I care about you’…I’ve heard that all before!  You’re just like every other man in this world only caring about women enough to get what they want!”

             
“You know that’s not true!”

             
“Damn you and your perfect world!”

She stormed away from him and to her cabin.  Inside, she immediately poured herself a cup of ale and then another.  Before long, she was starting to feel comfortably numb a
nd lost track of time and how many drinks she’d had.  The voices started coming back, the screams the cries and the faces of the dead coming back to haunt her.  There was a new face too.  Janna stared at her from her memories with the same eyes she saw darken as she died.  Each drink numbed some of the pain, but the sounds and images didn’t go away.  And then she heard the whispering again.  “Murderer…murderer…”

             
On the seventh day, the ship left the open ocean and started into the mouth of a river.  Kenner noticed the water underneath turn from a deep blue to a muddy brownish red.  Unfamiliar trees and colors that defied explanation came into view and strange sounds filled his ears.  The trees, instead of tall and straight like the forest he knew, were shorter but with fuller and lusher vegetation.  They were deeper green and had flowers of bright, vibrant colors he’d never known; deeper reds, blues that seemed as if alive and yellows that rivaled the sun in brilliance.  The forest was so dense; Kenner could barely see more than a foot or two beyond the river.  He saw thick vines swinging on their own, birds of sharp, contrasting color all over them.  The noise of the forest was deafening.  What sounded like thousands of different birds angrily arguing with each other and fighting filled his ears along with the calls of howls of animals he could only guess at.

             
Suddenly he was reminded of his dream.  This was the same kind of forest he’d seen; the same images and sounds.  All that was missing were the strange man-like creatures and the massive temple.

             
It was also a steamy hot that he’d never known before.  The air was thick and heavy and it felt almost as if he was drinking the air around him when he breathed.

             
For half the day, there was only one, large river traveling a mostly straight path.  Then one river seemed to branch off from it and then another.  By sundown, they had passed one inlet to a river or stream after another.  The water was still without even a ripple, but the ship still moved, pushed along by a gentle breeze that brought some relief from the stifling heat.

             
Kenner then noticed that, despite the heat, the Captain and crew were all wearing the sleeves of their shirts all the way down and all had the bottoms of their trousers tied closed around their boots.  They had also put on wide brimmed hats with what looked like netting around their faces and necks.  Kenner’s armor jumped on to him and he was suddenly alert as if expecting a battle.

             
“Best do like the others, Terri.” The Captain said to her.

             
“Why?”

She then heard a buzzing noise, like bees but quieter coming from down river. 

“And you better put this on.” He said as if warning her and handing her a hat.

In the waning light, she could just barely see a wisp of a dark, but thin cloud moving
toward the ship.  Within moments the cloud was on top of them and the buzzing sound was all around them.  She then felt bugs all over her face, neck and in her hair, followed by light stings that quickly began to itch.  Kenner’s face was being attacked in the same way; along with his hands which were uncovered.

             
“What the hell?” Kenner exclaimed.

             
“Welcome to the Tree of Life.”  Shorn said.

Chapter Thirty Two

              General Krypt awoke on his cot with the wind whipping at his tent.  He ached all over and his wounds although bandaged were burning.  He looked to the side of his cot and saw an unfamiliar man dressed as an archer sitting next to him.

             
“What happened?” He groaned.

The man stood up and nearly jumped out of his tent.

              “He wasn’t very helpful.” Krypt then mumbled to himself.

Seconds later a familiar large, muscular man entered the tent, but Krypt couldn’t believe who he thought he saw.

              “That’s impossible.” Krypt gasped.

             
“I’m afraid not, old friend.” General Krall answered him.

             
“What are you doing here?” Krypt asked him.

             
“What kind of gratitude is that?  I just saved your life.”

Still very surprised and confused, Krypt couldn’t help the smile growing on his face.  He started to try and raise himself out of the cot.

              “You get out of that cot and I’ll put a knot on the back of your head.” Krall teased him.  He then sat down next to Krypt.

             
Krypt kept staring at him; still not being able to believe the sight in front of his eyes.  General Krall was standing next to him; his teacher and mentor for the previous two years of the war; the man who had disappeared from the world, or so he had thought.

             
Krall smiled and shook his head.

             
“Letting yourself become isolated from the rest of your cavalry and almost devoured by Wolfen?  I thought I taught you better than that.”

             
“That was before you disappeared.”

Krall looked away for a moment as if to another country.

              “Yes, well I am sorry for that.  It was the only way at the time that I could save my life and preserve the future of the army.”

             
Krypt then felt confused.

             
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

             
“The plot I discovered was to assassinate me, assassinate you and then put that idiot Fraust at the head of the Grand Army.  The army would then be wiped out and Walechia defenseless to an enemy that would destroy everything in its path.”

             
“What about the other armies under General’s Font and Sebring?”

             
“Until two months ago, they were walking into a trap.  They were moving toward Parabas under the false information that there was a Masallan army was moving through the pass to invade from the east.”

             
“In winter?”

             
“Our King has never been in the mountains in winter, so he wouldn’t have known that an army moving through the pass in the cold and snow was all but impossible.  He also didn’t know that there was an army of fifty thousand Wolfen moving behind his armies that would have wiped them out.  Neither Font or Abseel knew that either until I told them.”