Legend of the Swords: War (27 page)

The others wasted no time. They ran and pulled their shields off of the horses. Armand also grabbed Gregory’s before spinning around.

Gregory held his sword with both hands and tried to deflect the guardian’s blade. Sparks flew, dancing off of the sheer wall as the two blades met and slid against each other. Gregory was driven to his knees, but he managed to deflect the blade. He dove and rolled to the side to avoid the next attack, which dug so far into the mountain that the rock creature had to step forward to pull his weapon out.

Huh.
Ryan thought to himself.
There must be some flint in the rock.
He turned to look at the rock face, quickly, and noticed that there were several layers of different material. Most were gray and spotted, but there was one odd orange layer.

He spun at the sound of Armand’s shield taking a heavy blow, and ran over to the battle. Gregory was buckling on his shield, and he rolled his eyes at Ryan as he came late to the battle again.

He thrust his sword out and tried to catch the next attack that was slipping through the air towards Kevin. The squire’s sword hardly slowed the stone blade; the creature’s strength was amazing. Kevin managed to get his shield in between himself and the creature’s sword at the last second. Meanwhile Armand circled around to the side and attacked.

Armand’s sword struck the creature’s arm as it was coming back up, but the sword bounced off without doing any damage—to the rock, at any rate. Armand’s sword had a large notch in it where it had struck the creature, and Armand himself cried out from the painful shock to his hand. He let his shield drop to its straps, and grabbed his sword-arm. His sword dropped onto the ground, and he flexed his pained fingers.

The creature had turned to face Armand as he cried out, and it brought its sword down on Armand’s outstretched sword arm. The chain mail held, but the blow pushed his hand down to hit the floor. There was a sickening crack as one of the bones in his forearm broke, and he threw his head back in a soundless grimace, then fell to the ground, unconscious.

Gregory yelled angrily, and ran forward to crash, shield first, into the guardian. Even with all of his might and weight, the golem did not move. The creature’s shoulders shook as it laughed.

“Ha! I haven’t had this much fun in centuries!” It didn’t seem to feel the need to compose its words as carefully as it did before. “You four are delightful!” He frowned. “I’m sorry that I have to fight you. Only the Bourne are allowed into the mountainside.” He shrugged, and turned to look at Gregory.

Ryan had gotten a good look at the creature while it spoke He had seen that it, too was made of layers—similar to the wall from whence it came. The strangely non-rock colored layer ran diagonally from its right shoulder down to its left hip.

The creature rose up on its toes, lifting its sword high above its head. Gregory thrust in to its abdomen. By sheer luck, the sword’s point struck the orange layer that cut through its body. It penetrated into the layer, and fine sand fell down around.

Well, that helps.
Ryan thought.
I wonder if a good hard blow near that strange layer would do anything?
He looked down at Armand’s damaged sword, shrugged his shield off, and dropped his sword onto the ground.

The creature brought its sword down on Gregory’s left shoulder, tearing through his upraised shield and the plate shoulder pauldron that he wore. Sinews broke, and muscle tore, but the sword continued in its deadly path. Gregory’s body was cut open a foot or more. He toppled to his side, his blood streaming onto the ground, as the creature lifted its sword. He was breathing, but only just.

The guardian laughed again, turning to face the squires.

“Ha haaa! What fun. I’m sorry, little ones.” He smiled a bit sadly despite his laughter. “You’re next.” It shrugged. “I let you live a little longer.”

Ryan stepped in front of Kevin, holding the shield by its edge in his left hand, and by one of the shield’s straps in his right.

“Go ahead and get it over with, O guardian," he said, feigning a resigned tone. “You have fought well, and we fought poorly.” He sighed. “I only ask that you please make it fast so that it will be less painful.” He looked up at the golem’s smile.

 “All right, little one. Prepare yourself.” It lifted its sword high, and brought it down quick. Kevin winced and turned away—but even through his squinting, he saw Ryan jump out of the way, to the left of the blow. The giant stone sword buried itself into the ground, and although the rock guardian tugged on his hilt, it didn’t immediately move.

Then Ryan brought the edge of his shield down on the guardian’s right shoulder, right where the orange layer met its neck. There was a loud crack, and the golem’s head jerked up to look at Ryan.

“What is this?” it said, as its head began to slide away from Ryan, taking its shoulders with it. Its eyes suddenly froze; the look of shock and horror was fixed on the now lifeless statue’s face.

Ryan turned and ran to Armand, grabbing his good arm and dragging him away from the guardian.

“Kevin, get Gregory! Quickly!”

Kevin complied, running up next to the creature and grabbing Gregory’s good arm, dragging him backwards, leaving a trail of his lifeblood on the granite below.

The creature’s head and shoulders were attached to the sword, and as they slowly slid down its torso, the blade twisted in the ground. It shivered, and there was a loud crack as the arms broke off, leaving the hands and blade sticking at an angle out of the ground.

When the head and torso hit the ground, it broke into tiny pieces, which flew as if shot from a sling, bouncing off of the rock walls and the squires as they dragged their knights to safety.

The legs slowly toppled the other way, crunching into the wall of the chasm before tipping forward to meet the ground. They, too, shattered, slinging tiny rocks everywhere. Ryan screwed up his face, closing his eyes in an attempt to protect them as he dragged Armand back to where the horses had been.

The horses had spooked, but they were well trained and had not gone far. When the pinging of flying stones stopped, Ryan dropped Armand’s arm and ran back to the horses. He grabbed the vial of healing balm out of his packs, and sprinted back to the men. Time was of the essence; Gregory was in bad shape.

Kevin’s eyes were wide. “What are we going to do now?” He yelled at Ryan. “They’re going to die!”

Ryan glanced down at Armand, sneering. “Armand’s going to be fine—even if we left him alone, he would live. He might not ever wield a sword again, but he would live.”

The cork made a soft popping sound as he pulled it off of the vial. He turned to Gregory. “It’s Gregory I’m worried about.” The wound was huge, and Gregory’s breaths were shallow and jerky. Foamy blood came with each breath—clearly, the stone sword had managed to get far enough into Gregory’s body to cut into the lung.

He poured a good quarter of the bottle onto Gregory’s wound. It drizzled like glowing honey, disappearing instantly wherever it hit the raw flesh. Ryan waited, but nothing happened. He drizzled even more of the precious fluid into the cavity of Gregory’s flesh. Still, nothing happened.

Half of the flask is gone.
Ryan winced, and poured even more onto the raw and bleeding meat that had been Gregory’s shoulder. This time, the liquid formed a thin film on top of the redness, and Gregory’s shoulder started to knit.

He watched as ribs unfolded and reattached, growing white where they had been soaked in blood. Then muscle quickly grew over them.

“Gods!” Kevin breathed.

The shoulder’s bones sprung up over the chest, and knitted together, followed by more muscle, and then pink skin, as fresh and soft as that of a babe’s, slipped up over the muscle.

Ryan turned back to Armand. He looked down at his bottle, and at Armand’s broken arm.
Bastard. I should just let him lie.
He thought to himself.

But he reached out and dropped a few drops on Armand’s arm. Like with Gregory’s wounds, the liquid simply disappeared at first, and Ryan poured more. Much less was needed, this time, before the wound began to grow together.

Ryan held the vial up. He groaned in despair as he saw that less than a quarter of it was left. He turned around to see Gregory’s arms move—he was struggling to sit up, which he did with Kevin’s help.

Gregory looked at Ryan, who stood up and walked over. Gregory held out his hand, and Ryan clasped it. There was little strength in the older man’s grip. Gregory nodded, and released Ryan’s hand.

Ryan walked back to the horses and put the vial away, then led the horses back so that he could set up camp. They wouldn’t be moving until the morrow.

The Bourne

The two knights slept through the rest of the day and long into the night. Armand woke first, before dawn the next day. He stretched in the bitter cold before walking over to Ryan’s sleeping form.

He nudged Ryan with his foot.

“Get up, squire.”

Ryan rolled over to his side and sat up, blinking in the pre-dawn stillness. The sky was clear, and the stars twinkled down on them. The Moon was just a thin crescent now, and provided little light despite the lack of clouds. It was poised to drop behind the ravine’s edge. Armand’s presence was a shadow hiding the stars, a column of blackness that towered over him.

“Stand up, squire,” Armand said. There was no emotion in his voice. Ryan stood.

“What happened to my arm, squire?” Armand grabbed Ryan’s hand, and pushed it onto Armand’s right arm, the one that had been snapped almost in two by the guardian the day before.

“It was broken,” Ryan said, perplexed. “I used some of William’s healing balm on it.”

Armand nodded, slowly. “What about the guardian?” He asked.

Ryan hesitated. “While I ran back after getting my shield, I noticed that there was a … layer, in the rock wall. It turned out to be made of sand.” He took a deep breath. “That’s why it took me a few extra seconds to get back.

“The creature had that same layer of sand. I gave it a sharp blow with my shield, right above that layer, and it … came apart at the seam.” Ryan shook his head, but it was too dark for Armand to see the gesture.

Armand nodded, then finally let go of Ryan’s arm.

“What about my sword?”

“You struck the creature’s arm, it ruined the sword.” Ryan glanced eastwards, toward the pile of gravel. “It’s probably buried under the creature’s remains.”

Without a word, Armand walked back to the horses. He pulled out one of the swords that Two Swords had used, checked it over, and belted it on. Then he got out some food.

“Clean up the camp, squire," he said, over his shoulder. “We will move on at first light … if Gregory wakes by then,” he finished sardonically.

“Crown Knight Armand?” Ryan said, tentatively, using the Knight’s full title.

“Yes, squire?” Armand tore into one of the biscuits, and started chewing.

“Gregory was badly wounded during the battle. I had to use … I used most of the rest of my healing balm on him.” He winced in the pre-dawn blackness. “What I mean is, he might not wake up for a while, the guardian nearly killed him.”

Armand grunted, and took another bite of biscuit. “Well, we’ll leave when he feels ready, then," he said. His voice was flat, unconcerned. He wandered over to the piles of gravel in the east, to watch the Sun rise.

The sky seemed to be lightening in the east as Ryan turned to get his own food. Kevin joined him by the horses.

“You guys have loud voices,” Kevin complained—but Ryan could hear the smile in his voice. “Man, I’m hungry. It’s not every day that you wake up after having defeated a giant rock creature, but it seems to have made me hungry.” He started chewing noisily.

Gregory groaned, and his armor clinked as he sat up.

Ryan nudged Kevin. “Gregory’s awake. You should bring him some food.”

Kevin nodded. It was just light enough to make out the movement. Ryan continued chewing his biscuit, and reached in to pull out about half of what little jerky he had left. They would run out of food tomorrow, or perhaps the day after that if they were careful.

The Sun was chasing the stars away as the sky lightened to blue in the east. Gregory was rubbing his bare left shoulder with his right hand through the holes in his armor and tunic, while his right held a biscuit. He took a bite and chewed slowly.

Ryan started to clean the camp up, rolling up first his own bedroll, and then Armand’s. Gregory sat and watched him for a moment, uncomprehending, and then he struggled to his feet.

“Ryan, stop," he said, quietly. Armand turned around to look. “You saved us again, yesterday. I will clean the camp.” He was a bit unsteady, but slowly walked over to Armand’s bedroll, and knelt to roll it up.

Armand snorted, and turned back to watch the sunrise.

Gregory took quite a while to pack the camp, but he refused to let anyone else help. As he worked, he ate, and he drank water. By the time that he finished rolling up all the bedrolls and blankets, he seemed much stronger. He ate another biscuit while he packed the blankets. He took out a small bottle of brandy, when he was done, and drank two small mouthfuls while leaning against his horse.

When he turned back from storing his bottle, his eyes held strength once again. He stared at his left hand, and wiggled his fingers.

“I take it this miracle is from William’s flower juice?” Gregory asked. Ryan nodded. “Thank you. I’m sure it’s why I am regaining strength so quickly.”

Ryan turned to look east. The chasm was lined up perfectly with the sun. As it rose over the horizon, it was perfectly framed between the walls. Gregory saw a glint of metal near Armand, and wandered over to it. He reached down and picked up his rent and twisted shield, gravel streaming off of it.

Armand looked at him, then turned his back on Gregory and walked back next to the horses to get another biscuit.

 Gregory looked at the sunrise for a moment, squinting, and turned back to the group. “Let’s go.”

They walked the horses no more than two hundred yards before there was a gap in the right wall of the cut in the mountain. Twenty yards from them stood a proud, ornate arch. It held the weight of the peak above it, and led into the mountainside. As they walked over to it, Ryan realized that the entire canyon was smooth-walled, carved and smoothed by hand out of the living rock.