Beyond the Hell Cliffs (6 page)

“So what’s the plan, then?” the battered prince asked.  “Am I to be some new type of soldier? 
One that does not need a weapon?  Will I grow a set of steel claws from wounds on my knuckles and just tear into men with those?  Okay, I meant that as a joke, but that actually sounds fantastic!”

“Quit mouthing off!” Hemmil yelled, stepping in to blast him with an array of punches.  Raegith went on the defensive and fended them off with practiced speed.  “I am a Paladin of Rellizbix and your mentor. 
Your father was a Paladin, as was your grandfather, all the way back to Victus Caelum, the father of all Paladins.  You’ll train to be a Paladin, because that is what royalty train as, despite your weakened blood.”

“Weakened blood, is it?” Raegith said, leaping back to open the gap between him and the man. 

“Yes, boy, weakened blood!” Hemmil said, stopping his attack.  He looked as if some inner rage, or whatever kept the perpetual frown on his face, had finally boiled to the surface.  “The Caelum bloodline has been the defining lineage of our entire nation for centuries and during such time it has always remained untainted.  Yours is not the blood of such an extraordinary line.  It is infected with common Twileen, as if there were any other kind, and a diseased whore at that!  It is not the pure line of kings; it is not the blood of a true Prince!”

“I laugh at my royal bloodline!” Raegith retorted.  “For all Helfrick’s blustering boasts and prodigious purity, his will and honor were
easily destroyed by the mere hint of my mother’s ass against a thin dress!  It seems that if she were able to topple a king, then it might be the Saban blood that dilutes me!”

“You will not speak of the king that way, boy!”

“I doubt he can hear me from here,” Raegith said.

Hemmil closed the gap between them in an instant and snatched the prince up by his collar, pulling his face close.

“You will repent for the words you have spoken,” the man growled.  “On… your…knees!”

Before Hemmil could force him to the ground, Raegith threw his head into the man’s face.  It stunned the Paladin, but not enough for his grip to release and in the next instant Hemmil was swinging him around and tossing him to the ground. 

Raegith was not done with the man, however.  His blood was heated now.  He righted himself against the ground and lined himself up towards Hemmil.

“
I’m done sullying my hands with unworthy filth such as you.  Zakk,” Hemmil said, blood flowing freely from his nose, “finish this!”

Something in Raegith changed that morning.  His words, which had been his one and only weapon thus far, failed him in that instant.  As he saw the Paladin send his squire in to finish what he had clearly started, Raegith’s wit faltered in his rage and only a beastly snarl escaped.  Neither wit nor sarcasm would give the prince satisfaction at that moment.  No, he would need something else; a dormant beast that he had not fed in many years
stirred within him.

Zakk came for him, quickly, intending to wrap up his training early by his master’s command, but if Raegith was to be denied the satisfaction of hurting Hemmil, then Zakk would be denied the approval he desperately sought.

Raegith turned to meet Zakk and adjusted his stance.  A new mind had taken over and he was suddenly putting all of his beatings to use in a natural way.  He was focused.  He remembered how quickly the boy attacked, using his hand speed to overwhelm and disarm him before landing a knockout blow.  Zakk was shorter than Raegith, however, and thus his hand speed was reliant on getting inside the taller man’s reach.  Raegith braced himself and brought his back heel up off the ground, slightly. 

Throwing a long punch out at Zakk, the boy easily deflected it and rushed in, but Raegith had gained some speed as well and dropped back away from Zakk as the attack commenced.  Zakk pushed forward, intent upon closing with the retreating prince and Raegith stopped him with a swift sidekick to the midsection.

The kick was not extremely powerful, but it was enough to stop the forward motion of the soldier for a moment.  The brief stop in momentum was enough for Raegith.  He reached out with another far-reaching jab and nearly connected with Zakk’s face before the boy parried, but Raegith was not looking to connect with the punch.  Instead, he switched his hips and kicked out into Zakk’s midsection with his back leg and with much more power.

Zakk took a step back and sucked air.  Now
came the hands.  Raegith responded with the same flurry of punches that Zakk utilized, slapping aside his attempts at blocking and moving in with blows that connected.  Zakk’s experience kicked in and he guarded, but then Raegith was opening the range and kicking again.  To the midsection; a sidekick to the knee; another to the midsection.  Raegith could kick Zakk’s armor with force, where his punches could not hit without causing himself injury.  The soldier had to guard against more than strikes at his face and he was not ready for it.  The kick to his knee popped something and suddenly the soldier could not step correctly.  Then Raegith growled at him, all primal and burning with fury.

Zakk was off guard and injured.  His hands couldn’t keep up and suddenly a handful of his hair was locked in the lunatic prince’s grip, yanking his head sideways.  An elbow to the face rocked him
.  Another elbow caught him in the jaw.  He cried out, but was immediately silenced by a blow from under his chin that nearly took his tongue off.  He was leaning far backwards and his feet were in the air.  The bastard prince had caught him with the same uppercut that he used all the time. 

As Zakk hit the ground, Raegith dropped on top of him, choking the private with one hand and slamming him in the face with the other fist.

“Enough Raegith!” Hemmil yelled, coming across the field to him.

“Yes!” Raegith snarled, turning towards his true prey.  “Come get some!  I’m ready!”

“Stop this now!  We’re done!  Training is over!”

“Nothing is over!” Raegith roared. 

“I see it well enough, prince,” Hemmil said, approaching guardedly.  “I see what a man of destiny can do once he’s finished holding back!  It’s about time you got your head in the fight, Raegith.”

“What game is this?” Raegith asked.

“No games, my prince,” Hemmil said.  “Just a little spark to ignite that fire in you, is all this is.”

“All that shit about my Twileen blood, then?” Raegith asked, confused but refusing to give up his offensive stance.

“Rubbish,” Hemmil said.  “You’re a prince, Raegith.  The blood of Throm Caelum runs through your body; nothing can taint that!  You just needed a push to remove your head from your ass.”

“Well, I’d say it was a success,” Raegith said, relaxing at looking at Zakk lying unconscious on the ground behind him.  “Looks like your boy paid the price for your push more than you did, though.”

“The Seer will be able to fix him,” Hemmil said.  “Just like she’s done with you every night.”

“Wait, what?” Raegith asked, stopping Hemmil before he could reach for Zakk.

“This will be the first time you return to camp still conscious, but you’ll still need healing or you’ll be worthless tomorrow,” Hemmil explained, taking a swig from his leather skin.  “You’ll get to meet the Faeir woman you’ve been ogling since the first day you traveled with us.”

“She’s the one who’s been cleaning me up and healing my injuries?” Raegith asked, letting Hemmil shove him aside to look at Zakk more closely.  “That’s how I’ve recovered from broken ribs and a skull fracture over night?  I lost a few teeth before.  She can fix that as well?  I knew I hadn’t imagined that!”

Raegith arrived at the new campsite on horseback as the sun was setting.  His feet were bleeding, he was covered in sweat-caked dust and all kinds of weeds and dirt were littered in his hair.  He was led back to his already-pitched tent and given a meal of bread and dried meat, which was eagerly scarfed down by the exhausted prince.  As he finished his meal, Boram entered the tent. 

“You look as if you’ve earned that meal today, prince,” Boram said.

“Please, don’t call me that,” Raegith laughed, seeing the man for the first time in weeks.  “When you use it as my name, it makes me sound like a minstrel or something.”

“I saw you ride in on your horse instead of draped across Zakk’s,” Boram said, handing him a canteen.  “Here, take a draft before officer hard-ass shows up with your healer.”

“Is it normal for trainees to have personal healers?” Raegith asked, taking a pull from the canteen.  The strong, bitter ale surprised him.  “Eh, what is this, horse piss?”

“You’re training at a much faster rate than a normal recruit and you’ve half the hardiness of one due to being locked up for so long,” Boram replied.  “
Hemmil seems to be trying to make amends with his past through you.  And no, this isn’t piss.  This is what men drink, you silly bitch.”

“Hemmil’s past?” Raegith asked. 

“When he’s ready, he’ll tell you.  It’s not something you’d want to hear from anyone else.”

Boram left him alone in the tent, to ward off the exhaustion enough to be awake by the time the healer got to him.  His whole body hurt and he wondered if it wouldn’t have just been better to be knocked out again to save himself from the pain he was experiencing at the moment.  The visit from Boram helped.  He had grown accustomed to the man’s company, as well as
that of Ebriz and Tavin, and he missed the jokes and jabs they would lob at each other over a long journey.  Boram was loud and rebellious, traits he liked, and Tavin was quiet and knowledgeable, but not without humor.  He respected both men highly and learned from them what they were willing to supply him during travel.  Ebriz was a different kind of companion.  The bard did not grate against him like Zakk or Hemmil, yet he did not impress him in the same ways as Boram and Tavin.  Ebriz was more than a match with words and was an intellectual trickster.  For everything Ebriz did that amused him or perked his interest, he always did something that would aggravate him.  Nonetheless, Raegith appreciated the man’s company and he kind of liked that the bard was a near lunatic.

Footsteps approached and Raegith heard Hemmil’s gruff voice.

“He’s awake this time.  Be advised, he is an incessant chatterbox and the words that dribble out of his mouth aren’t nearly as eloquent as he would like to think.  I suggest you ignore anything he says that isn’t pertinent to your job.”

As Raegith sat on his cot, trying not to fall over, the tent flap opened and in walked the Faeir woman from their original group.  His weariness faded to the recesses of his mind as his eyes took in the sight before him.  The Faeir looked young, but he had not seen one of her kind so close before and had no idea how quickly they aged physically.  Her skin was the color of the noon sky on the fringes of a cloud and her hair was a gloss black.  She was probably half a foot taller than him, but her form was delicate and lithe.    Her face was smooth and angular with thin eyebrows and lips that were slightly darker blue than her skin.  She looked down at him and he saw that her eyes were completely black. 

Her eyes might have terrified him had he not been so turned on by her presence.  She looked him over in an instant and then bowed deeply.

“Prince Raegith,” she said in a seductively raspy voice.  “My name is Onyx.  If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a look at you, to see if I can perhaps end a bit of your pain.”

“You already have,” Raegith mumbled.

“Did you say something?” she asked, bending closer.

“You already have my permission,” Raegith replied.  “At any time, that is.  If you are my healer, then I am at your command.”

“Oh, of course,” Onyx said.  “I’ll need to wash your feet first.  Please lay back.”

Raegith lay back against his cot and let Onyx work on his feet.  He looked down to watch in amazement as she washed his feet and cleaned his wounds without so much as moving a facial muscle.  Placing one hand in a bucket of water, she cupped out some water, which immediately formed into a sphere and floated through the air to splash upon his toes. 

The water then swarmed over his feet like a group of bees, swirling and scrubbing away dirt and blood, which clumped and fell to the ground until his feet were clean.  Even the blisters and lesions were
closed and simply a bit red.  Other than a tingle, the pain and soreness were gone from them.

“I assume the rest of you
is much less afflicted than your feet?” Onyx asked.  When he nodded she reached down and pulled him up to a sitting position.  Her hands were cool to the touch and delicate like porcelain.  “I’ll do the rest of you now.  Stand up, please.”

“Are you going to do that same trick with the rest of me?” Raegith asked, suddenly aware of how hard he was straining against his shorts at that moment.  “Maybe you could do that without undressing me?”

“There is no need to be bashful with me, my lord.  I am Faeir,” Onyx said, yanking the tunic over his head and then squatting down to remove his pants.  “I have worked in several Saban hospitals, on all kinds of wounds from all of the races and there is nothing that would sur…”

Onyx yanked his pants down and jerked her head back just in time to miss getting smacked in the face. 

“Shit!” Raegith said and turned around quickly as Onyx jumped to her feet.

“Tides
, my prince, are you alright?” Onyx asked, not knowing what else to say at that moment.