The Crimson Claymore (21 page)

He pulled one of the knives from the creature and spun to watch as Starlyn backed up in defense. Her hammer was large enough to protect her from most attacks, but the creature still seemed to be overwhelming her.

“Starlyn, duck!” Andron cried.

She didn’t question him but listened right away. He studied the pattern of the arrows on the invisible foe and with all his might he threw the knife. It hit true, and the creature shrieked one last breath before tumbling to the ground in a thud. Starlyn gasped and rolled backward before coming to her feet and looking at Andron.

He noticed that her left arm hung limp, and she clutched at it with her right hand. Her hammer was secure back in her belt, but she seemed hurt with gritted teeth as she came toward him. He reached out to her, and she whimpered slightly when he touched her arm.

“Are you all right?”

“I think it’s dislocated.”

“I can help it, if you trust me.”

“I do.”

“This might hurt.”

She clenched her jaw. “Go for it.”

He grabbed her arm and snapped it back into socket with a loud pop. She screamed out in pain, and tears came to her eyes. He removed the plate armor at her shoulder and began to massage it gently. She wiped tears from her face with her right hand.

“Thank you.”

“What were those?” Andron asked.

“There is a legend in the kheshlarn records. I think they’re called Caestlycs.”

“Caestlycs?”

“Yes, it means the unseen.”

“Poor Erenuyh…he saved our life with those arrows. Without them, we wouldn’t have seen them well enough to kill.”

“Yes…I am saddened that we didn’t get a chance to get to know him more.”

“He wouldn’t let us.”

“I think he may have foreseen his doom when he came with us,” Starlyn said.

“Perhaps so; I fear that whatever is happening goes deeper than Searon knows. If there are wolves joining with draeyks, as well as these Caestlycs.”

“Yes…I believe the wizard more and more now. Something is going on, and unless we unite the nations of human, and the kheshlars alike…it may be the end of us all.”

“What are we still doing here then? Let’s be off,” Andron said.

“First, let’s give proper respect to Erenuyh.”

Andron nodded, and the two of them gently set Erenuyh’s body and head to lay in peace with bow in hand. Starlyn then fished through her sash and pulled out a few seeds, which she planted in the ground next to his body.

“Let new life come from this saddening death,” she said.

Starlyn and Andron sat for a long moment in silence. After a few minutes, Andron pulled his pipe and filled it full of pipe weed. With a few puffs, he noticed Starlyn reaching her hand out.

“Would you like some? It may help with the pain.”

“I do not have any herbs to heal my cuts and scrapes, so if this helps, yes I will have a little.”

Andron passed the pipe over and watched her with amusement as she coughed from the smoke. It was likely that she had never even smoked pipe tobacco. He chuckled lightly and began walking.

“Hold onto that, Starlyn, and follow me. Let’s make haste to the villages.”

Chapter 21

A
loud crash in the middle of the night woke Searon, whose eyes jolted open. He moved his head on the pillow and shrank it back when his face sank into a large puddle of drool. Licking his lips, he sat up on his bed and heard another crash followed by a scream. His eyes grew wider, and he yawned loudly before getting to his feet. He looked around for his claymore before discovering that it was still attached at his side. His head shook tiredly, and he banged on the door in his room that connected to room seventeen.

When there was no response, he opened it to see Karceoles stumbling to get his brown robe back on. He seemed to struggle, but he didn’t look like he had been asleep yet.

“Did you hear that, Karceoles?”

“Yes, yes. I will meet you outside, and we’ll investigate.”

Searon nodded and was about to turn back in his room when he noticed the bed to his left with two women hiding under a white sheet. One was blonde and the other brunette, and both looked scared as they looked around each time a loud noise came from downstairs. He blinked his eyes a few times as he looked at them until he finally recognized the two. They were the dancers, Berethana and Annettera, naked under near-see-through white cotton sheets, cuddled together. Searon shook his head and slammed the door behind him.

Searon waited in the hall for a few minutes before Karceoles appeared with staff in hand and a grim look on his face as another crash of metal was heard. Searon sprinted toward the stairs, holding his head intact from the throbbing of drinking.

At the bottom of the stairs toward the exit of the pub there were three warriors behind an overturned table, looking outside. All had swords drawn and fear on their shaking faces. Searon and Karceoles ran up next to them, and they nearly jumped from their socks.

“What seems to be the problem?” Searon asked.

“Another raid!”

Searon sighed, “Conflict between the villages.”

“No…there hasn’t been any of that in years, not since the creatures came. It is they who raid our villages now.”

“Draeyks,” Karceoles spat.

“I’ve never heard of those, no, these are called daerions, and they are evil and strong. Too strong.”

“Daerions?” Karceoles gasped. He stood and looked to Searon. “Come, we must stop them, but be cautious, these aren’t mere draeyks you fight anymore.”

Searon’s eyebrows rose as he followed, but first he called back, “Do not cower in fear, help us, and fight!”

Searon stepped outside and unsheathed his crimson-glowing claymore. In the streets, half the warriors ran in fear as the others fought on. Most that fought fell down either injured or dead from such a formidable foe. Searon caught a glimpse of them in the faint starlight. The creatures were shorter than the draeyks, at only five feet, but were much broader and muscular. Their skin was rough, leathery, and dark blue in color. Each held a short sword or mace and slashed at anything that came close to them with more weaponry skill than any of the draeyks. They wore tight, ripped black breeches but no shirts or shoes. Their feet had four toes with long midnight-blue claws.

Rushing forward, Searon slashed his claymore forward to be blocked by a short sword. He looked into the large cold, unblinking oval eyes of the creature in front of him. They were pitch black in color and stared back at him in wonder. Its face was hard and cruel with two large horns extruding from the top of its head down to its jaw. They were black in color and similar to those of a ram except harder and thinner. It had a pointed jaw and large snarling black teeth at least two centimeters in length.

He fought the creature fiercely but barely gained any ground as each swift strike he tried was easily blocked by the quickness of the beast. Changing his fighting style didn’t seem to help much as the creature was well skilled in each form. Instead of attacking with strength, he decided to take a step back and move into a defensive position. The creature seemed to snarl, showing a tall mouth of sharp teeth before it leaped toward him.

Searon nearly fell back as the creature hacked at him from the left to right with a mix of overhead slashes and uppercuts of its short sword. He felt like the creature was trained by him with its skill. It was unsettling to say the least. As he backed up, he tripped over a dead warrior’s body and fell to the ground. The creature leaped at the chance and began furiously slashing down at him with attacks he was barely able to defend against. Many scrapes and bruises began forming on his arms through his chain mail when he wasn’t quick enough to bring his long claymore to defend against a swift short sword.

When it seemed all hope was lost, a warrior leaped toward the daerion, seemingly from nowhere. The warrior was clad in purple glinting scale mail and twice as wide as Searon. He fought the creature back with powerful blows that seemed to flash with each strike of his mace. Searon slowly got to his feet and went to meet the new warrior. He wore no helm but had a great big, bushy black beard upon his ebony face. His attacks were quick and reckless, which was surprising for such a large man. Searon was surprised to see the creature holding a strong defense against the power of the mace with only a short sword.

Searon ran to his side, and the two of them fought side by side against the creature that seemed to be cowering away. Their weapons flashed in the torchlight in a brilliant array of twists and turns. After only a few more strikes each, the warrior next to him bashed the creature’s hand, nearly tearing it from its limb. A sudden horror crept upon the creature’s face as Searon stepped up to slice its head from its shoulders. He watched as it bounced harmlessly down the street, before turning to the man next to him.

“Hallo there! Glad to accept your assistance, outsider, yet you may need more training with weapon before fighting these formidable foes. Do be careful.” He stopped and took a harder look at Searon.

“Searon?”

Searon’s eyes lit up. “Yes…”

He took a step closer to inspect the younger man that seemed to be only a few years short of himself. His hair was thick but short and deep black in color; he had gray eyes, a rounded nose, and wide jaw. He was much larger than Searon with a rounded belly, though he didn’t seem overweight but big boned and obviously strong. A faint scar traveled from his left eye to his jaw a medium-brown color on his ebony face. There weren’t many ebony-skinned people in the smaller villages, though Searon’s old hometown of Legain had a well segregated mix.

“Xython?” Searon gasped.

“Aye,” he nodded and smiled, showing his profoundly white teeth. “When you left me, you were the master and I the trainer. It seems these days your teaching has granted me more skill than you!”

“Don’t count on it! I am weary as I have traveled hundreds of leagues the past week and drank too much last night.”

“Ah, Searon, always excuses! It was the same when you led us to victory against the cities. Every excuse as to why we didn’t ride to victory with one less death on our side. It’s good to see you again!”

“Yes, yes, it is. We shall catch up later, but for now, let’s help the poor citizens of this village.”

“Aye, but do not fall to the ground this time, my friend. Attack them swift but unexpected. They know all the moves, so you have to change the order of natural attack.”

Searon nodded, and the two of them dashed farther into the village. In the midst of battle, Searon noticed there were fewer than a dozen daerions, but their power was overwhelming most of the village guard. Karceoles stood ahead twirling his zylek to strike from one creature to the next. He would back away every now and then to shoot orange glows of light from his zylek that tossed the creatures backward. His blasts of energy and fire killed at least five of them before all of them turned focus to him.

Searon dashed up and fought alongside the wizard, paying heed to his old friend’s advice. He was much more effective with surprising blows of intermixed fighting styles. Sometimes, he would knock them back with the hilt of his claymore instead of a deathblow because it was easier to surprise them with. One daerion stood behind the rest with a crossbow and began firing arrows. A few men around him fell from the bolts, and he fought harder to try and reach the creature.

The creature noticed him and shot two bolts that hit his breastplate and bounced away. One of the arrows slipped down, and the backside slid up and smacked Searon in the jaw, so he nearly tasted the feathers attached to it. His teeth gritted, and he growled, growing angry before striking down another in front of him. He leaped to the daerion with the crossbow, but the creature tossed it to the ground and withdrew two long daggers. Searon slashed his claymore from the side, but it was blocked by both the daggers. The creature leaped forward and stabbed one of the curved daggers into Searon’s stomach, breaking several links of chain mail. Searon gasped and stumbled backward in pain.

Searon fell to his knees, coughing, but he kept a hard grip on his claymore still. The daerion in front of him croaked a snarling laugh and leaped forward in an attempt to kill him. He rolled to the side and swung his claymore along the ground to an uppercut that split the creature’s jaw in two. Thick blue goo dripped from the creature as it hit the ground with horns separated by split face. Xython was at his side in moments, defending him against any other creatures that came. Karceoles shot several balls of fire at the remaining three creatures before they fled from the village.

Searon stood there for a long moment before turning around to look at Xython and Karceoles. “Why does this not surprise me?”

“What’s that?” Xython asked.

“That we finally get to a village after traveling for so long, and the wizard has all the fun while I get stabbed in the stomach. It doesn’t surprise me one bit.”

Karceoles cackled as he walked up. “Come, my friend, if the daerions are truly back, then there is much to discuss. I fear these raids on the north and south from two separate creatures are more than mere coincidence. I fear war is coming.”

“You call yourself Karceoles the Wise, and yet I have assumed as much before this. When do I get to see this wisdom you so speak of?”

“Watch that mouth, boy.”

Searon smiled. “Karceoles, this is Xython, an old friend from my battle days.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Karceoles said, shaking his hand. He turned back to Searon. “Is he to join us?”

“That depends,” Searon said and turned to Xython. “Would you like to help us unite an army to rid the land of these daerions of the south and the draeyks of the north? It may turn into a full-scale war, but if these creatures are no more, there can finally be peace in the cities.”

Xython thought for a long moment before nodding his head. “Yes, if you seek to destroy these creatures, then I think I ought to at least hear you out.”

“Come then,” Karceoles said. “The three of us have much to discuss.”

He turned and walked back through the city toward the Dancing Donkey. People scattered through the village, disposing of the bodies of both men and creatures alike. Many of the guards that were helping in battle were heading for treatment of their wounds. The silence that had once filled the city was no more, and through the rest of the night murmurs could be heard from every corner.