The Crimson Claymore (3 page)

“Go to the kheshlars, and ask for their help. There is a great war coming soon, and if you humans can get the kheshlars to ally with you, you can defeat the draeyks once and for all,” Karceoles said. The swirls cascaded out from the zylek and disintegrated into the crisp air.

“From what I heard about the kheshlars, they do not ally themselves with anyone who is not kheshlarn,” Searon said, remembering the stories of old. It was often said that to ask a kheshlar for help was asking for a woman to be quiet during the birth of her son.

“You must try,” Karceoles pleaded, eyes less focused and more concerned, watery in the sunlight.

“You are mad, wizard. I must do nothing. You cannot burst into my life and make demands of me; now leave me be,” Searon said before putting his claymore back into its scabbard and turning away.

“Actually, I can, and I have. You will go to Sudegam, and you will ask for the aid of the kheshlars in the upcoming war against these reptilian creatures,” the wizard said with hardened eyes and pursed lips.

“I will not. What war?”

“A leader has risen. It is time we have one as well.”

Karceoles raised his zylek, and orange magic trickled from it that caught Searon’s plate mail on fire, burning through to his flesh. He dropped to the ground and rolled until the fire put itself out in the brush, but the hot metal still burned against his flesh.

“Fool, do you think torture is going to work on me?” Searon growled. He could always handle pain; he had already lost everything he cared about, and physical pain meant nothing to him anymore.

“Yes…Yes I do,” Karceoles smirked deceivingly.

Another swirl of orange magic flowed from his zylek and froze Searon in a block of solid orange ice. He was still conscious and stared at the wizard in disbelief, his eyes shifting but his body unmovable.

Karceoles shook his head, allowing his tangled white-and-gray hair to seemingly float in a breeze of magic. “Some fools never learn.”

Chapter 2

S
hivers traveled down Searon’s partially frozen body as he stared through the orange ice that gave the world a lightened appearance. The color made the trees look a dark brown, almost black, eerie. He shivered as the cold ice encased his body. The surrounding orange clouds and deep-brown sky infused him with a lifeless feel. His face was finally free of the ice, and what he heard was far from lifeless. The sounds of animals hit him like a loose pebble tumbling from a cliff, and at first he felt overwhelmed. Life seemed to flow more there than he had ever imagined before. Each plant made a different sound and moved in a different way, as if they whispered to each other as they stared at Searon. Birds of all kinds sang in chorus with each other instead of the sonic competition that he’d grown so accustomed to. He could hear the contrast of blue jays, robins, doves, eagles, and so many others that he couldn’t name.

Searon looked to the trees surrounding him and realized that he wasn’t in the same place. His shoulder no longer pained him, and he wondered if something in the ice had healed it. No longer were there bare autumn trees with scattered colorful leaves; now he was looking at a forest of pine trees. The smell was so overwhelming and minty from the pine needles that he could taste in his mouth. He allowed the pleasant smell and taste to settle through his nostrils and mouth, soothing his mind. He recognized the white-and-red cedar trees, thick and bushy with leaves that were soft to the touch. There were also white fir trees, tall and thinned through the trunk. The needles were small, filling each branch. Red fir scattered the area, as well, and had different traits than the white fir; they were thicker and held longer needles. Most impressive, though, were the sequoias that draped the land surrounding Searon. The sequoias scraped the sky, nearly touching the clouds. Searon felt like a gnat in comparison. The trees looked older than time.

Searon struggled as he broke an arm free of the ice and fought to rip chunks off of his body. When he was free, he took a few steps forward and stumbled on the rough ground covered in pinecones. He noticed that he was alone and that the arrogant wizard was nowhere to be found. His horse was also nowhere to be seen, and besides the animals and chilled breeze, sound remained absent. He rubbed his neck, looking at the various bushes on the ground with small green leaves and red berries. His hand brushed against one plant that he’d always heard tales of but had never been so deep into the forest to see. It was a fern, one of the most beautiful plants that Searon had ever seen. The branches came out with a scattered variety of leaves that tapered off the long branches and grew shorter until reaching the end, each branch looking like a long triangle. A smile reached his face as he studied the forest surrounding him until his stomach rumbled from hunger. Behind him, hooves patted against pine needles, crushing them. He felt the hilt of his claymore and swiftly turned around.

Behind him he saw the wizard riding a large, shining brown horse, and his own white-and-black striped horse traveled alongside. The wizard held three rabbits in one hand and two ducks in the other, with a grin upon his face. He tossed the animals toward Searon, who was about to say something about being dragged to such a place, but fell silent as his stomach grumbled even louder.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Prepare a fire!” the wizard barked.

Searon hurriedly organized small branches and logs in a cube, wedging dried pine needles and bark between the legs. Carefully, he pulled out his flint and steel, making sparks to light the dried needles. His stomach barked with hunger, and he carefully tied the rabbits and ducks to branches that he spun around the fire.

“What is wrong with you, old man? You can’t just force people to go where you choose,” Searon spat.

“Of course I can. I’m a wizard. You’re just being stubborn,” Karceoles smirked.

“Who’s more stubborn, the one who doesn’t agree, or the one who drags him along anyway?” Searon grumbled staring at the orange pool of water at his feet.

“You’ll learn that I always get my way. If you weren’t going to come of your free will, then I knew I would have to pursue other avenues of convincing you,” Karceoles snickered.

“What is it going to take to get rid of you?” Searon snapped.

“Come with me to the kheshlars, and ask for their assistance,” Karceoles said, motioning forward.

“What makes you think they will join our cause?” Searon asked. The course of action the wizard wanted to take seemed useless, knowing the stories of kheshlars. Searon remembered the stories told of a selfish race that only cared for themselves and the trees.

“
They
won’t…but
one
will.”

“One? One. You froze me in a block of ice to drag me halfway across Calthoria for
one
bloody kheshlar!” Searon spat.

“Yes,” Karceoles paused. “Let me explain,” he sighed and pulled out a long-stem pipe that he carefully filled with tobacco. “A long time ago, a kheshlar touched the untouchable. She did what every other kheshlar was too scared to do, in an attempt to save her own mother. For the kheshlars, dark magic is forbidden, but that was precisely what she studied. Foolishly, she thought dark magic was the only way to save her mother. The problem with dark magic is it is too powerful for a single person to control, and she was consumed by it. Her sister was forced to murder her to prevent her use of the dark magic further. When they looked for her remains, they were nowhere found.

Dark magic is a powerful thing, and it very powerful. It can reverse death, but it comes with a cost. The dead walk in a shell of their former selves. That particular kheshlar, filled with dark magic, strayed away from the other kheshlars until she found the draeyk settlements. With her intelligence, she united the draeyk tribes with her as their leader. Then she launched an attack against her own kind. The only thing she had left was revenge, revenge for the kheshlars killing her. This was nearly a hundred years ago when the kheshlars defeated her. She fled, injured, never to be seen again. Her sister still lives. I have a feeling that for the kheshlars, there is still a need to know what happened to their kin that strayed away from the path of the light.”

“And this sister is the one you seek?” Searon asked.

“Ah, yes. You are smart indeed, boy. Blood is thicker than water, they say. Well, I say they are fools. Blood is thicker than molasses, and twice as sweet.

“What is her name?” Searon asked.

“Starlyn is her name. What do you think this remaining Starlyn desires more than anything?” Karceoles asked.

Searon thought for a moment before stating the obvious. “She wants to find her sister. Depending on her condition, help her come back to how she was.”

Karceoles grinned, “Yes, you do learn quickly.”

“And her sister is with the draeyks?”

“She was, years ago. I do not know where she is now, but Starlyn thinks she is, and she spends a lot of time hunting draeyks. The sister does not matter, what matters is an alliance with the kheshlars, and if they believe she is with the draeyks that can be an advantage.”

“And if she’s not?”

Karceoles grinned from ear to ear, “We’ll improvise. Kheshlars are very protective of their lands…and all those who tread on it.”

“I can see your logic, wizard, and so I will assist you, but if this doesn’t work, I’m off on my own way,” Searon said reluctantly.

“Fair enough,” Karceoles agreed.

“So where is this kheshlar?”

Chapter 3

A
slight breeze tickled Searon’s unshaven face as he quietly crawled up the hill. The reek of vinegar and spoiled eggs rotted in his nostrils and mouth, and he had to use all his energy to block out the nauseating sensation. The clattering together in the distance sounded too much like swordplay. He knew the sound too well, and this echo wasn’t practice; it was a struggle. His claymore gleamed crimson in the morning sun as he peered down the hill. At the bottom, Searon noticed a woman wearing clattering plate mail that formed a skirt above her knees, with thick plated turquoise boots and a large diamond of gold in front.

On the woman’s sides were five draeyks, all with high-held one-sided axes with large spikes on the opposite side. She defended herself well, parrying from one to the next, with a complex technique that resembled a graceful shadow-sword technique, except that she carried a hammer. With the way she fought, it seemed she was twirling a feather. It was a sight to watch her singlehandedly battle five draeyks at once. She swirled her hammer and twisted her body, sometimes spinning through the air between two axes with only millimeters to spare. Searon watched in awe as she spun in the air, twirling as her left leg collided with the jaw of a draeyk. The draeyk fell to the ground just before she used her hammer to bash its head in. As she fell, she struck another in the chest. Both fell, lifeless, before her feet touched the ground.

Only three draeyks were left, and they battled fiercely against their skilled opponent. Searon debated rushing to her aid, but she seemed to be doing a decent job by herself. Besides, he didn’t want to seem like a threat to her, as he didn’t know the woman’s personality or her allegiance. The two on her left struck at the same time, and she impressively blocked both with the same defensive stroke. She held her hammer steady with her left hand, grabbed a shuriken from her pouch, and bolted it into the neck of the third, causing loud gagging from the wound before the creature crumbled to the ground. Then two battled her, rage showing in snake eyes, and she backed up for a better position, tripping on a fallen axe. Without a second to lose, the two draeyks jumped at the opportunity. She grabbed one of the crossed armor straps on its chest, and her fingers scraped against hard scales as she tumbled to the ground with the draeyk on top of her. A dagger pierced through the rough scales of the creature’s back as its carcass lay upon her.

Searon slid down the hill and mounted his stallion, shaking his reins, causing his pearl-and-onyx steed to gallop down the hill. The final draeyk glared at Searon as his horse rushed down the hill toward the creature. He held his claymore in his right hand, its weight making him lean slightly on the right from its heftiness. When in range, he jumped from Stripes and collided with the creature, knocking it to the ground along with its axe. He rose to his feet and placed both hands on his claymore, steadying the two-handed weapon, and swung it to each side of him before holding it secure in front of his face. The draeyk rolled and got to its feet with an axe in each hand, obviously taken from a fallen comrade. Both axes spun in the creature’s hands, moving so fast that it was hard to tell whether the draeyk was about to slash at Searon with the two weapons or throw them at him.

Want to dance? Let’s dance,
Searon thought as he gripped his claymore tighter and swung the long blade at an toward the creature’s left temple. The axes stopped twirling, and the one in its left hand abruptly shot up and blocked Searon’s strike while the right swung toward Searon’s armor. He was caught unexpected, and the axe crushed in his plate mail on his left shoulder. He quickly backed away and felt pain and blood dripping down his arm. The pain didn’t slow him and he kept his composure more than he, even, expected of himself. He changed into defense and blocked one strike then the next. The axe struck short of reaching him and was harmlessly deflected.

Searon dashed forward now, growing impatient; and turning himself onto offense, he knocked an axe to the ground—along with the draeyk’s hand who’d held it. The creature snarled, showing its sharpened yellow teeth. Nothing but rage came from the creature, and Searon held his own against the quickened attacks but had to come up with a new plan to end the battle—and quickly. Many options circled his mind, and he picked one quickly, tossing his claymore toward the creature that leaped out of the way to avoid being struck. Searon dove to the ground, gripping an axe from a fallen draeyk and launched it toward the last draeyk, impaling it in the head. The creature’s jaw opened slightly before falling backward the ground.