The Willbreaker (Book 1) (13 page)

              Jasmine shook her head vehemently. “No. She was left here, with one other, to kill any who came this way. They found me, and told me I was bound to fulfill a contract of service to Empress Aurora. I could either accept that or be killed. Two traveling men killed the other woman earlier today. We were just getting ready to leave town when you two showed up.”

              “You were left alive because of your gift." Although spoken as a statement, Edward actually questioned her.

              “Yes, the other woman with her was a Sensor, as are you, I’m assuming?"

              “Yes,” Edward replied.

              “I hate to interrupt you two, but I don’t find it comforting sitting here. Jasmine, if you are going to come with us, do you mind riding duo on the back of one of our horses?" Brandon wanted to get out here, quickly.

              “No, that sounds fine,” Jasmine casually responded.

              The three of them backtracked to the horses. Baby and Firecracker, still tethered to the tree, snacked on the long grass that sprouted up at its base. As Brandon approached, their heads rose and their ears twitched.

              “Atta girl, easy now,” Brandon whispered to Baby. The touch of his hand upon her neck eased her tension. Edward did the same. He approached Firecracker slowly, and extended his hand to scratch the massive neck. Just before he reached it, Firecracker let out a lip shaking breath of air. Edward jolted his hand back to his chest. Brandon laughed, and Jasmine lowered her head trying to hide her smile.

              Once mounted, the three of them traveled the outer boundary of the Hold, steering clear of its burned dangers. Jasmine rode on the back of Firecracker with Edward; Firecracker had more capacity to carry two riders. Edward did not seem to mind at all; Brandon caught his slight smile as she wrapped her arms around his waist. He gave Edward a light nod.

              It took them a full hour to ride around the ruined city. The inky smoke made the entire sky seem overcast. Silence followed them, except for the sounds of the horses and the popping and hissing of the burning city.

              They rode for two hours. The road ahead of them forked, marked by a rickety pole with two planks nailed to its face. The plank pointing to their left followed the finger of the Tusk mountain range; its board marked “Churon." The other route leads northeast towards Daladin Bay.

              Brandon halted Baby and looked at Edward.

              “We will head to Daladin Bay,” said Edward. “From the bay, we will take a ferry boat across Lake Septa. Two days to Daladin, and another day and half and we will be in Victorville.”

              A victorious smile grew on Brandon’s face, it seemed he could finally see light amongst all of the death they had passed. “Wonderful, hopefully we can go without any more interruptions.”

              “Just a question, if you are trying to stop Aurora, why are we heading all the way north to Victorville? Isn’t that out of the way?” Jasmine puzzled.

              “I seek the advice of my sister. She is a Gifted, and I need her council. We are only two, three if you decide to follow us, but our foe greatly outnumbers us. We cannot march right into the castle to fight her. I am hoping she may aid us in our quest.”

              Jasmine accepted his reason. Edward motioned Firecracker forward, and the ride continued. The road seemed more traveled here. Large, rocky ruts pressed like tracks in the dirt. The path, wide enough for three wagons to ride side by side, still left room to spare for walking men.

              After an hour of travel, the riders spotted a wagon approaching them from the north. Brandon eyed his fellow travelers.

              “It’s probably nothing, but none the less, be on guard.”

              As the wagon got closer, they spotted two riders on the wagon and four lightly armored men walked alongside it. The wagon had a painted cloth covering that ran its length. “Lomlin’s Traveling Wares" showed across its face in bright colors. The four walking men, presumably hired guards, watched the three riders as they approached.

              “Greetings, travelers! Are ye in need of some wares?” yelled the short, fat man at end of the lead ropes. He had curly red hair, and a full beard that made his face seem extra fat. A plump woman sat in the seat next to him. She smiled, revealing her yellow, crooked teeth. Perhaps not a pretty woman, but she seemed to have a pleasant attitude towards them.

              “We need some traveling meats and cheeses. Do you have such wares?”

              “Of course, of course! Please, come!” said the fat man, as he strained to pull himself out of his seat. He grabbed hold of the seat base and lifted his heavy frame upward as he grunted. After he stepped down from the seat, he waddled over to the side of the wagon and pulled back the covering. Boxes were stacked atop each other inside, all marked with chalk writing indicating their contents. He shuffled a few of the boxes around. The manly woman, still sitting in the seat, smiled and winked at Brandon. He forced a smile at her and looked down to the ground. Jasmine poked his side, giggling.

              “Here! Here! Come look! Come look!” he said, as he set the box down on the ground and popped its top open. Brandon dismounted and walked over to him as the man dug through the box. The box held everything from dried meat and berries, to wax wrapped cheese, fanglin root, traveler’s mushrooms, and flatbread.

              “You want some of these? Perhaps a loaf of flatbread? Or some fresh fanglin root?”

              Brandon peered at his wares with hungry eyes.

              “Oh yeah, give me that. How many loaves of flat bread do you have?" The man pulled out two loaves. “Okay, I’ll take both of them, as well as a bag of dried raspberries and a bag of blueberries. Also, give me six sheets of salted meat. What is your price on the fanglin root?”

              “Six copper each, friend! That’s cheap!”

              Brandon scoffed. “Six copper a piece? Ah, come on, I would never pay more than four.”

              The bearded man laughed, as if astonished at such a claim. “Four? Fanglin root is hard to come by, and mine is fresh! Picked this morning! Five, five copper and it is yours, that is a fair price to pay for such quality herbs! Five, eh?”

              Brandon paused a moment. “All right, five, but I will not be happy about it. We are in need so I will pay that. Give me a half dozen of the roots.”

              The man’s eyes went wide with excitement; he was going to make a good deal of money today. “Oh yes friend, yes, I’d be happy to bag these up for you! Yes, what a good deal you have gotten today! You will be most pleased with what you have purchased! Quality wares they are! Quality!”

              Brandon interrupted him. “Okay, okay, I get it. Here is your money." Brandon pulled out a silver coin from his coin purse. The round man eyed the coin in astonishment. He licked his lips eagerly.

              “Um, a silver? Wow, I, um, I do not have enough coin for change, would you consider the rest a tip?”

              “A tip? Hardly. If you are unable to give me change, then I guess we will take our business elsewhere,” Brandon said sternly, turning around to the horses.

              “Oh! No! Please, I will get you change! My wife has change, ya know, the pretty one? Yes, she has change, I don’t, but she does, I will get your change right away!" He said, laughing nervously.

              “I should tell you to be off with yourself. You are in luck today because we are in need,” Brandon said, slightly irritated.

              The odd little man nodded frantically as he traded coins with his hefty wife. After the exchange finished, he returned, putting the leftover change in Brandon’s outstretched hand. Brandon counted it before he put it in his coin purse.

              “Thank you, Master Lomlin, we will be on our way now." Brandon mounted  and gave the giggling woman in the wagon a smile. She covered her mouth with her fingers as she watched him. She kissed her hand and blew it off into the air towards Brandon. Brandon could hear Jasmine snickering.

              “Steer clear of Darrow’s Hold,” Brandon said to the vendors. “You won’t find anything there but death.” The two looked at him momentarily and then nodded. A few minutes passed and they were on their way.

              “I think she likes you,” Jasmine said, before she burst into laughter. Edward laughed.

              “She’s married, and I’m, well, I’m not looking for love right now." Brandon pretended to be angry, but a small smile broke his false gaze.

Nightfall came quickly. The travelers made camp a hundred paces off the main road. Edward cleared them a spot to raise the tent, while Jasmine worked on building a fire. Brandon pulled the heavy saddles from the horses and brushed them down. Within a half hour, they were sitting around the fire warming their fingers from the chilly night.

              Brandon gazed at Jasmine. He never had the time to look at her beauty. Her facial features were soft; even her nose and chin were ambiguously smooth and blended well on her face. Her nose, cheekbones, and brow line were all delicate and indistinct. He wondered if she looked like her parents, or if all shape shifters had smooth features. Her long, straight blond hair shimmered in the firelight. He smiled to himself slightly at her pleasantness. Jasmine’s eyes rose to look at him, as he glanced back down to the fire, trying not to stare.

              Edward’s mind raced with thoughts of the fire elementalist. He sensed the desire in her to kill them. When she unleashed hellish fire on them, he sensed her hate and the duty she felt towards her goal. As she walked upon them, ready to send them to the afterlife, he could sense an overwhelming feeling of evil and hatred. She truly believed in her duty to destroy them. She bore a frightening black aura around her that almost sucked the light around them into it. Then, as her eyes took in the two broken men before her, something happened. In an instant, she washed over with sorrow, regret, and sadness. The feeling of evil and hatred vanished from her completely. The aura dissipated in a puff of magical smoke. Edward did not know how it could be possible. He had never witnessed anything like it. He wondered if one of them reminded her of someone she loved, or someone she felt obligated to. Maybe Brandon looked like her husband. He could not put a solid finger on what happened.

              He closed his eyes and saw her face in his memory as she lay on the ground. Something was out of place. He remembered approaching her limp body and cowering over her. She had long elegant red robes made of velvet, and her hard facial features made her soft and flowing black hair seem oddly beautiful. He remembered looking into her light blue eyes, as deep as the sea. As he closed her eyes, strangeness and the uneasy feeling of déjà vu washed over him.

              The morning light graced its warmth upon the small camp as Brandon looked around. He crouched down beside Baby, rubbing his fingertips in the dirt while he stared off into the woods. Edward sat up from his roll of blankets with a yawn, and stretched his arms to the sky. Jasmine still slept in the tent. Brandon expected it to be a nice day. Edward looked over at Brandon with concern.

              “What’s the matter, boy? Is something wrong?”

              Brandon did not take his eyes off the woods. “Firecracker; he’s gone. It looks like he broke his tether sometime early this morning." Brandon stood and looked back to Edward, who got to his feet.

              “I’m going to take Baby and look for him. I’ll be back within the hour. My pack is sitting by the tent. Why don’t you grab something to eat and gather up your things? Tell Jasmine to try the blueberries, they are delicious.”

              Edward gave him a sly smile. “All right friend, we’ll see you shortly." Edward gave him a small wave goodbye, as he headed for the bags with the food.

              Brandon threw his leg over Baby’s bare back and led her to the road. As he went, he eyed signs of Firecracker’s travels: his thick girth had broken small branches on his path, and the hoof prints were easily visible in the soft earth. When Brandon reached the road, he looked back towards the camp. He smiled with pride, because from here, nothing indicated their camp within the woods.

              As he looked north up the road, Brandon noticed smoke. He brought his hand above his brow, trying to block out the light to improve his vision, but it gave no more clarity than without it. His heart pounded with concern.
Could it be the Blade Maidens? Have they found us already?
Keeping his eyes locked ahead, he spurred Baby into full gallop. If Maidens were in the area, he would need to get back to camp and alert Edward and Jasmine.

              It took ten minutes for Brandon to get close. As he approached the smoke, the theatre of death filled the stage before him. A massive battle occurred here, right in the middle of the road. The road bloody heaps of men and women made the road impassable. Brandon’s mouth hung open at what he saw. He withdrew his short sword, dismounted, and slowly walked into the battle scene.

              The pools of blood on the dirt road, and the slick shimmer of blood on the wagons, told him this happened recently. He stepped over a man that wore a once shining silver breastplate, one of Lord Reinhold’s men. A long handled staff stuck straight outward from him; the scimitar-like blade on its top buried in his stomach. The Blade Maiden who ran him through had died two feet in front of him, still holding on to the blade’s shaft. Her body, limp in a deep pool of blood, still leaked from her headless neck. The blood that spilled from the bodies turned the ground to mud. The road was dotted with the dead and the damage of war stretched for as far as he could see. Thousands died here. As he continued to traverse the combat zone, he came upon a spectacle that brought him to a stop.

              Brandon stepped into what appeared to be the center of the fight. Lord Reinhold’s men were attacked from the trees; They were the only ones that had arrows sticking from the sides of their bodies, as if unaware of the archers that awaited them. A ferocious battle ensued. Foot-thick trees were hacked to the ground, presumably by blows that missed their targets. Powerful attacks dismembered both the men and women. Arms, feet and shins, heads, and upper torsos lay sprinkled throughout the road and trees, away from their owning bodies. Swords, axes, and spears stuck from mangled corpses, reaching to the sky like banners of victory.

              The armored horses that held their masters were hacked down as well. A handful of them were sprayed with arrows, others had been stuck in the neck and chest with Maiden’s Blades, and yet others had their legs hacked off from underneath them. Man versus woman. Good versus evil, at least, that is how Brandon saw it.

              Looking over the battlefield, Brandon noticed something peculiar. Up until this area, Reinhold’s knights fought and died across from fallen Blade Maidens, but here, the knights of Reinhold and the woman of Cloudkeep stood shoulder to shoulder in death, together, facing the trees. Not just one or two of them, nearly
all
of them. They laid on their backs, facing the tree line. Their armor had been cut as if by a magical blade; the tares in the metal plating were not shredded, but smooth, and unbent.
What could have done that?
Brandon saw a thick broad sword cleaved in two in the same fashion. He reached over to pick it up and looked at the severed end; a clean and smooth cut.
Right through metal. That’s impossible, isn’t it?
Dismembered arms and heads lay all about, from both the knights and the maidens. From their positions, Brandon concluded they  died together, fighting something that came from the trees. The idea amazed him; Blade Maidens would not stand beside any men, especially the men of their blood-sworn enemy, Lord Reinhold.

              Brandon crouched down, looking across the bodies as questions began to answer themselves. By the woods edge, just off from where he stood, he spotted one of Reinhold’s men on his hands atop a Blade Maiden. His hands still gripped the sword that he buried into her chest. This would not seem so odd, except for the wound on his back; a razor fine cut through his armor that would not be possible with a Maiden’s Blade, or any of the weapons he saw scattered about. Someone, or something, attacked him from the woods behind. There were identical cuts and slashes on all of the people here, both men and women alike. Excluding a handful of the dead, all wounds seemed to be done to their front side. They faced what killed them. They faced what came from the woods. Whatever attacked them turned their allegiances, even if only momentarily.

              Brandon scanned the bodies. His eyes stopped on a Maiden’s Blade that sat still in its owner’s hand. Something covered the tip of the blade. Brandon stood and picked up the bladed staff, holding its tip closely to his face so he could examine it. It appeared to be blood, but was blue, the color of the deep ocean. As he wondered what this came from, a figure appeared from the tree line and walked awkwardly toward him.

         
It came forth from the trees as if it stood there the whole time. It blended in with the darkness of the background like coal on a cooled lava bed. It had a humanoid body, but resembled something alien. It had deep maroon skin, a thin nose, and razor-thin lips. It hissed and spoke words not understandable, with odd syllables and strange phrasing. When its mouth opened, Brandon could see two rows of small pointed teeth on the top and bottom of its mouth. It had no eyebrows, and where its eyes should have been, there was nothing but skin.

              It walked like an animal, because it did not have normal legs. It seemed to have an extra leg joint. Its legs bent forward from its hips, like a normal human, down to a knee joint, then backward to its ankle joint, but instead of having a foot, it had another supporting bone that connected to black, fur-covered hooves, very similar to a goat’s leg. It wore black leather armor, embossed with strangely intricate symbols. Around its head, a thin black crown, with finger-like blades that extended upward like claws reaching to the sky. It stared right at him, with its eyeless face.

              Brandon took a step backwards, but his heel caught the handle of a Maiden’s blade, bringing him hard onto his rump. He crawled backwards, like a crab, trying to get away from it. He was filled with terror and disbelief. His thoughts raced to Edward and Jasmine. How could he warn them of this?

The creature before him could only be one thing: a Bauth’Dok. These creatures were monsters of legend, things to be feared. People cowered about around campfires and candles telling of Bauth’Dok stories, but seeing one full of life gave Brandon a new understanding of fear.

              Stories portrayed them coming from the woods wielding red-bladed weapons that sliced bone as easy as flesh. They commanded their blades with grace and agility at levels far beyond what human weapon masters attained. Brandon heard rumors of a Bauth'Dok Blademaster single handedly dispatching a group of thirty bounty hunters, all armed and skilled, that sought bounty from its capture. Brandon feared fighting the beast today. He did not know if he would ever be ready to fight one.

              As it walked towards him, it crossed its arms to opposing hips, and withdrew two long, thin, curved blades that glowed red even in the light of day. Brandon had never before been unable to move, but the living nightmare before him turned his muscles to steel. He froze completely up. As it approached him, a skull jarring blow to the back of his head made all go black.

              A distant voice called to him, attempting to wake him from his blackened slumber. He felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him urgently.

              “Wake up, friend, wake up.”

              Brandon’s eyes opened up forcefully. He reached his hand to the back of his neck where pain seemed to be thriving. His fingertips touched the wetness that soaked into his shirt. He had a throbbing headache; clear and sharp pains pulsed through his mind. As his vision came to focus, he quickly figured out that his situation had gone from bad to worse.

              He sat within the grey, bone carcass of a mammoth beast, along with eight other men, who wore the signature armor of Lord Reinhold’s soldiers. The thick backbone of the beast,  as profuse as any tree Brandon had seen, provided seating for all of the captured men. Its enormous ribs reached upward to the sky in an arch to form the bars of their prison. The ribs were spaced close enough together that not even a small child could squeeze through the gap.

              Planting his hands behind him, Brandon sat up and looked around. The sun, nearing the mountaintop, drew dusk's blanket over the land. The carcass, mounted on thick wooden wheels, attached to a gigantic creature that resembled an enormous badger; with black and white stripped fur, and long cracked claws that protruded from the tips of its feet. The beast, larger than a cargo wagon. had thick, course fur covering its flat back and body, all the way up to its broad head. Four Bauth’Dok stood atop the creature as it pulled them up the steep, rocky path. Two of the Bauth’Dok held long wooden staves with glowing red crystals on top of them, the same color as the swords Brandon saw earlier. The other two stood with their hands upon their hips, one of which wore the bladed black crown. He could not believe how they balanced themselves on the beast; Brandon had to hold himself from being thrown into the sides of the cage every time they popped over a large rock or rut in the road, and he sat on his hunches.

              The beast pulling the wagon let out a chest-vibrating snarl as it tossed its head from left to right, flinging up the dirt before it in a curling wave from the impact of its breath. Its face had lipless gums that held arm-length teeth ending in sharp points. Snotty mucus and slime dripped from between its teeth and swung from its chin as it batted its head back and forth. Liquid drained from its wet, black nose. It smelled of fresh cow manure and ammonia.

              Brandon noticed another cage behind them, being pulled by a second beast, similar to the one ahead of his cage. Four Bauth’Dok stood on its back, blocking the view of the contents within the cage behind them.

              “What is happening?" Brandon asked, looking at the knight, the
elven
knight, who rested his hand on his shoulder.

              He seemed calm and observing. He crouched down on one knee, resting his elbow across his other leg. Long, straight blonde hair hung halfway down his back, and dirt and blood covered his battle worn face. He looked down at Brandon with wise green eyes.

“We were all captured by the Bauth’Dok. They came from the trees as we fought with some of Aurora’s girls. There are three of these bone wagons. The one behind us houses two, possibly three, of Aurora’s girls. I’m not sure about the wagon in the tail. We are heading east, have been for a good day or so." The man lifted his hand from Brandon’s shoulder and held it out to him. “My name is Galadin, who might you be?”

              Brandon locked hands with him. He had a solid handshake; a trait Brandon thought said something of his character.

              “I’m Brandon.”

              Galadin gave him a small smile and the shake of his head.

              “Well, Brandon, I hope you don’t have loved ones at home, because our outlook is looking grim." Galadin did not drop his smile when he spoke. He looked ahead to the watching Bauth’Dok atop the harnessed beast.

              “Why were we left alive while everyone else was killed?”

              Galadin chewed his bottom lip between his teeth as he still concentrated ahead.

              “I imagine they are going to have us dig for them. You see that metal on top of their staves? That glowing red metal?”

              “Metal? That’s not a crystal?”

              “No, it’s a metal, known as trexalite. It is the same material used to make their Blademaster’s swords. It is a highly magical metal, stronger than tempered steel, yet lighter than driftwood. It will glow red even in daylight, and can slice through steel as steel can slice through cloth. I hear it’s a powerful channeling tool for their magic, too.”