The Crimson Claymore (34 page)

With that order, Leinard broke off with his men, and a few hundred men in kilts charged through the center ranks, carving a path toward the mage and wizard. They didn’t bother killing anything in their path but focused on injuring to increase their speed. Daerions were driven back on each side while others stepped in to battle against them. Searon strode his horse right behind Leinard until he stopped in front of Sh’on and Karceoles. They were on the other side of the magical barrier, but no longer did Sh’on have to distract himself with the creatures.

Searon saw through the gate and saw his brother surrounded by a dozen men fighting inside of the city. A rapier was in his right hand while his left glowed a deep blue with magical energy. He seemed to toss daerions across the yard with his magical fist as he sliced others down with his rapier. His speed with the thin blade made all the difference against the heavier weapons and slower creatures.

A shriek and snarl shattered the battle cries, and the man on the rider with the black cloak reared back on his horse. His horse stood on two legs and kicked the air in rage as he shouted. “Kill them! To the gate, kill them, and destroy the city!”

“Now!” Karceoles yelled.

Searon turned back around and began holding the defenses of the gate with Starlyn by his side. Behind him, a flicker of green formed that seemed to intertwine with the horizontal magic in a vertical pattern that created a series of off-color magic boxes. Everything vertical was green while all the horizontal magic was orange. Where the two magic forces met, it was a mixture of the two colors – making it a black with green tint.

The daerions didn’t seem to consider the magic as they charged. There was little regard for the defenders and their weapons as the creatures seemed to charge right over them and into the magical gate. When they came into contact with the magic, they seemed to catch fire and freeze at the same time. They became a fire that shattered into a thousand pieces of broken ice. Searon thrust his claymore into any that came close to him, and soon the creatures turned away in fear.

A loud crackling of black lightning thickened the air and shot out in every direction. Searon watched as many of his men fell victim to the charged energy and fell to the ground, lifeless. Enough of the magic came toward him to cause him to stumble as well as those around him. Even Karceoles and Sh’on were affected and lost control of their spell. However, a cloud of black smoke appeared until it became a great fog, and when it disappeared – so did the warlock.

“Torches,” Karceoles muttered.

Most of the daerions outside of the gate were missing as well, and after their army slaughtered what was left, they entered the city. Searon stepped up alongside his brother, Noraes, as they finished off the creatures inside of the city.

Soon swords were raised, and men began chanting, “Victory!”

Searon took off his helm and attached it on his armor and clasped his brother in a hug. Noraes’s armor wasn’t so far different from his brother’s. Rather than crimson and gold it was silver and blue, but much of it was the same style. His rapier didn’t glow blue as Searon’s claymore glowed red, but his hand took care of the complimentary colors when it filled with magic.

Karceoles’s brow was full of sweat as he stepped up and shook Noraes’s hand.

“Well fought,” Noraes said.

“I’m sorry, Brother, I should have kept better scouts,” Searon said.

“Nonsense. You could not have foreseen this. They had a wizard with them.”

“Warlock,” Karceoles corrected. “Wizards are better looking.”

Noraes smiled. “Warlock. He probably saw you and waited until you were too far away before he began his attack. This is no folly of yours. However, Brother, I will need men back now. I can’t fall victim to this again and must reform my defenses.”

“Of course. As many as you need, both north and south men alike.”

Noraes looked at the army before him and seemed in awe. There were near twenty thousand men and the largest force to be under one banner that the land had seen in centuries. Small house flags were held by banner men, and yet most were the red flag and gold claymore. Searon Claymore they called him, and hung his banner high and proud.

Starlyn walked up next to Searon before removing her golden helm. Her lovely golden hair fluttered behind her head and sparkled in the twilight. Noraes seemed taken aback and turned to gape at her. Only when she finished untangling her hair with her hand did she notice him, and he lowered his gaze and coughed. Her cheeks seemed to turn a slight shade of red, if only for a second.

“My lady,” he shifted, “I am Noraes, captain of Legain.”

She smiled. “I’m Starlyn of Sudegam.”

He extended his hand to her, and when she took it he brought it to his lips and kissed the ring mail gloves upon her hands. She blushed as he nodded to her and smiled.

“It is a great pleasure to meet you, Lady Starlyn, to be sure,” Noraes continued, still not letting go of her hand.

Searon smirked. “I hate to shatter your thoughts, dear Brother, but our men are tired and hungry.”

“Of course, of course. There will be a huge feast to celebrate our victory,” Noraes announced, turning to his brother and finally releasing Starlyn’s hand.

Chapter 35

S
earon sat at the crowded oval table, staring across to look at Noraes and Starlyn as they conversed with each other. He found it odd how quickly the two seemed to form a bond. His brother had always been quick to sway a woman in his direction that he had interest for, and yet it still surprised Searon that a kheshlar could be affected so. It was the kheshlars that were supposed to be the fair folk that all others toppled over themselves to please. Instead, it was Starlyn that seemed to blush with embarrassing smiles at his brother’s remarks.

Surrounding them were the primary captains of the battle scattered about feeding themselves thick slices of ham and mashed potatoes. Andron sat next to Etherond and talked about the creator while Sh’on and Karceoles spoke about magic on the other end. Karceoles only had a plateful of bacon and a jar full of peanut spread with a wooden spoon.

Starlyn seemed uneasy to be so close to the thick smell of meat, and yet it didn’t seem to bother her as much as she sat in Noraes’s company. Noraes didn’t have any meat on his plate in respect and only ate the bread, corn, and potatoes as she did. Searon hadn’t told him that kheshlars didn’t eat meat, although the folklore about the species stated it bluntly enough.

Most of the rest of the army was out in the streets in Legain, opening barrels of whiskey and ale to celebrate. Searon only hoped that their celebration wouldn’t be too hard in case there was trouble throughout the night. They had won the battle, but the war was far from being over. All of the human captains seemed content with talking about the war and different battle tactics they could use to destroy the savage beasts of the land. Searon lost focus and began eating. Nobody seemed to talk to him, and he didn’t much care for trying to talk to anybody. The only thing on his mind was food. He did begin tuning into his brother and Starlyn.

“Are all the kheshlars as beautiful as you?” Noraes asked.

“All kheshlars are a distinguished race of beauty,” Starlyn responded, yet she couldn’t help but to smile as she did.

“Still, I doubt any compare to you,” he smiled with his eyes fixated on hers.

“How would you know, have you ever met a kheshlar?” Starlyn asked. “You’ll just have to find out for yourself.”

“In fact, I have met a kheshlar, several of them, truth be told. Yet that is another story from a faraway land. I have not met any of your kin, and perhaps one day I will. For now though, my responsibilities of this city keep me here.”

Searon scowled at that as he lifted his glass of red wine and drank a mouthful. His brother never told him that he’d seen kheshlars before. He began to wonder what all his brother had been up to in the past few years.

“Can all kheshlars fight as well as you can?” Noraes asked.

“Most,” Starlyn confessed as she nibbled on a piece of bread.

Everything became a blur to Searon as he unfocused his attention from reality and let his mind consume him. Memories of his son and wife flooded into his mind like a downpour. Nothing around him seemed to matter at he focused on her face. He missed her so much, and some days were harder than others. When he fought, he was able to release his emotions once more as his blade slashed into the air and through bodies. It was his release of anger and frustration of his loss that kept him close to sane.

Forty-two months and eight days had passed since the slaughter at his home. He still didn’t know how the number stayed in his head. Somehow, he just knew, and that was the fact that scared him. No matter how much he could accomplish during the day and no matter how many of the creatures he slaughtered, he still could not forget exactly how long ago it was that he lost his family. That at its core was what tore him up inside. He thought if he could at least forget the number, the internal clock that continued to tick with each passing second, that he might be able to cope and move on. However, something in his mind wouldn’t allow him to do so.

He got to his feet, stumbling as if he was drunk, and yet it was only a bottle of wine that he drank. Everything swirled in colors around him as he wearily walked from his brother’s keep. People stared at him uneasily, and yet he did not seem to notice. Nothing mattered in his mind, nothing except for fresh air. He couldn’t breathe as the memories haunted him. His face turned red with the shortage of breath, and he stumbled from the room and into the brisk cool night air.

The stars were especially bright that night. They always seemed so every time Starlyn was in a bright mood. He wondered if there was any significance to that aspect and her namesake. Nobody seemed to be outside in the streets, and he wandered aimlessly until tripping over something and crashing to the ground. His stomach twisted as he released its contents. Everything he had eaten was now before him in a steamy pile that gave off an ill scent. He heaved two more times before crawling forward and resting his back against a short wall of stone brick.

Noraes walked up and stopped a span from Searon to stare in disgust. He walked around the bloody vomit until he sat down next to his brother. His hand clasped Searon’s back before he sighed.

“Is everything all right, Brother?” Noraes asked.

Searon coughed, “The memories…the nightmares came back. As they often do.”

“It is a terrible thing that you have gone through. I wish there were words I could use to ease your mind. All I can say is give it time. How much, I do not know. Yet I think this war will help you find the peace that you so desperately seek.”

“All I want is this war to be over; it grows tiring,” Searon confided, clasping his face in his hands and running them through his thick hair.

“I thought there was to be no rest for you until every last draeyk had been stricken down.”

“I still plan on it, yet I haven’t rested in so very long. I miss my peace, my family, but I will never have that again. What happens when this war is over? If I’m still alive after we’ve hunted down every last creature to see their dying breath? What am I to do then? Right now, this rage inside of me is the only thing that keeps me going. Without it, I would be consumed by the nightmares, curled up into a little ball, clutching at myself and never wanting to move. Will that be what I turn into once I’m done with this? Will all my energy be vanquished when I’m through? What could I possibly turn to in order to be all right?”

“I will always be here for you, Brother. When you’re done…come home. There will always be a place for you here. You have taken care of me for so long, don’t you think for a minute that I’m not here to help take care of you when you’re going through rough times,” Noraes said, squeezing his brother’s shoulder. “You know,” Noraes sighed, “when you left, I envied you for the longest time.”

“You envied me?” Searon asked.

“I saw how happy you were with Victoria, the joy that she brought into your stone heart. I envied the love that you two shared together. I’ve never thought I would be able to find such a thing, such passion.”

“There is someone out there for you, and one day, you will meet her.”

“I hope so, Brother,” Noraes said, “I grow tired of being alone. I think I’m about ready to find myself a wife and start a family.”

“That is something I never thought I’d hear you say,” Searon laughed.

“I never thought I’d say it either.”

Searon got to his feet and stretched out his arms. Noraes followed his example, and they both stood there for a moment in silence. Finally, Searon stepped forward and grabbed his brother in his right arm and brought him in for a hug.

“Thank you for being here for me,” Searon said.

“Come, Brother, it’s time for us to get some rest.” Noraes smiled.

Chapter 36

S
earon woke up early as he always did without much sleep between the nightmares he had throughout the night. He yawned, wishing he could get a full night’s sleep at least in the comfort of his brother’s home. Yet he didn’t know if he’d consider lounging on some fancy furniture in the main room comfort. Still, it beat sleeping on the hard ground, which he’d grown accustomed to during his travels. Nobody seemed awake, and he wasn’t too sure where Starlyn had run off to, and so he decided to step outside and enjoy some fresh air.

The air was crisp and almost bit through his white button-up cotton shirt and brown breeches. He almost considered turning around and seeing if his brother had anything warmer to wear. Imagining himself in blue silk made him quickly dismiss the idea. Most of his brother’s things were more elegant than he liked due to Noraes’s position as duke. Outside was peaceful as he wandered from the stronghold toward the city. He found his stallion in the stables and rode into the city he once called home.

Nobody roamed the streets except a few peasants. A near-total silence pervaded the air, and he enjoyed nothing more. Searon liked the peace and quiet; it gave him more room to think. He wasn’t sure what he liked thinking more about, his past or his future and heading into the war. Neither appealed him much more than grief.