The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion (23 page)

Below, he watched the people running, fighting and killing.  He was astonished at the level of cruelty that humans could inflict upon their own kind.  This was his first opportunity to observe them in real life.  Before this he had been content to learn about them from the projected images and recollections from other mountain children.  Seeing their brutality on full display shocked him a little and dampened his excitement at his impending initial connection with his human female.

Mountain children are wonderful, almost magical, animals.  They are as intelligent as humans but lack many of their gifts.  They could converse quite easily using only the images, emotions and scents that they shared between themselves.   When they were called for a tasking, those undertakings sometimes required interactions with humans, and they were much more difficult to understand.

His Tinker was one of a very few whose connections to her human was so strong that she had actually been able to form the words that they required for full comprehension.  It had been difficult and painful for her, but she had managed.  He wondered if his connection to his human would be as strong.

Thinking of her he looked back over his shoulder instinctively.  He knew he would not be able to see her yet, but her mindscent, gifted to him by the Awareness, was growing stronger.  That meant she was getting closer, and he fairly tingled with excitement.  He looked back to Tinker and saw she had not yet “returned”, then looked back at the water.

The big floating things had come in, and the screaming female humans had been pushed and prodded onto them.  Now they were leaving, floating away like leaves on a stream.  The big pieces of cloth filled with the breeze and pushed them away.  The people left behind were crying, some falling to their knees.  Young ones were screaming and standing on the edges of the land, so close that Mate feared they would fall over.

War was an event that Mate had found fascinating but repulsive at the same time.  The idea that beings of the same species would purposely kill each other in large numbers was terrifying.  Not that violence was unknown to the mountain children.  Even in the freezing heights of their mountain homes they encountered predators.  Large cats with white fur and protruding canine teeth hid in their burrows and sprang out to catch and devour other animals.  When his kind were on a tasking they had to defend themselves against the numerous predators in the lower regions, and there were always those rare instances where they would encounter the Silvers.  Those occasions always resulted in interspecies violence, but human warfare spent life in such quantities that Mate found it to be astounding.

Because of these dangers, the white Mountain Children were well equipped to defend themselves.  Their teeth, though small, were needle sharp.  The human-like hands of his kind had claws that were retractable.  These weapons were coupled with a speed of movement that any cobra would envy.

Tinker purred beside him.  He turned his head to look at her.  He had a momentary flash of jealousy for the connection that she shared with her human.  He knew such an emotion was silly, but it was there nonetheless.  He calmed himself by recognizing that he, too, would soon be connecting with a human.  Would Tinker also be a tad uncomfortable with that situation?

Tinker’s head wobbled, and then she straightened herself.  She took a few more moments to recover fully.  Then she turned to Mate.

“He comes, and your tasking-human comes with him.”

Mate sent her an emotion of mild happiness.  He was anxious for his tasking to begin but only because he wanted it to be over.  He desired a name after so many seasons without one.  He projected to Tinker a series of images and emotions which conveyed to her his desire to return to their mountains and to their nest.  Tinker digested his burst of communication and replied with a simple feeling of understanding.  She then raised a mental wall to hide her additional thoughts.  She loved her Mate as much as her kind was able to love, but their love was a mixture of many emotions.  The connection with her human was also strong.  When he was taken away she had grieved as deeply as his woman had, even though it was in a different manner.  She worried that the attachment that had been placed on her by the Awareness for her human might be so strong that she would not want to return to her home.  If that were the case, what would Mate do?

Since it would be impossible to come to any conclusions yet, Tinker let the matter drop from her mind.  The scene playing out beneath them was disturbing, an example of how cruel the humans could be to each other.  She could still hear the cries from the women on the ships as they drifted slowly away from the piers.  Children stood on the edge of the wharf and stretched their hands out, crying for their mothers. 

And then there was the reason that she had reached out to her human’s mindscent.  There was one ship still tied to the quay wall, a large one with a flag on the mast.  The flag had a picture of an eye on it.  The human female, Dwan was on that ship.  Dwan was the life-mate of her Tag.  Tinker knew everything about Tag, his strengths, his weaknesses and his determination.  Of one thing there could be no doubt.  If Dwan was taken from him he would cross oceans, continents and the entire planet if need be.  He would find his life-mate, and he would bring her back to their home in Olvion.  He would also visit terrible mayhem and death to all who dared to stand in his way.

Dwan had just finished an extraordinarily long day at work and was walking back to her residence in the company of Glaid, a Healer Apprentice.  Both of the young women were fatigued and looking forward to a hot shower and a peaceful night in bed.  Glaid was several years younger than Dwan, and she was not handling the siege very well.  She had been jumpy and distracted for the entire time that the pirates had been ashore.  Dwan had experienced a much larger and serious siege during the time of the Great War in Olvion, and that event had served to make her calmer about this situation.  She noted Glaid’s condition and invited her to pass the night in her apartment.  The place was actually set up for two people anyway and had two comfortable beds.  Dwan had intuited that her young apprentice needed to be with someone on this night and had offered to make dinner for the two of them and provide some conversation before they went to sleep.  Glaid had eagerly accepted.

Just as Dwan was reaching for her door the alarm bells began clanging.

“Enemy in the walls!”

The shouts came from the portion of the defense wall that was almost directly above Dwan’s residence.  Glaid’s face showed stark terror.  The sounds of sword on sword and the screams of the dying were suddenly everywhere. 

“Inside quickly,” Dwan told her apprentice.

Once inside she locked the door and ran to a heavy wardrobe.  “Help me,” she called to Glaid as she tried to push the heavy piece of furniture across the floor and against the door.  Glaid was no help.  She was almost comatose with terror and stood in a corner of the room with her arms folded and shaking.

Dwan could hear the sounds of fighting growing nearer.  She ran to the corner and snatched Glaid’s hand then dragged the terrified young woman over to the wardrobe.  She flung open the door and wrapped both arms around a stack of folded linens.  She threw them on a divan and took Glaid’s arm.  The young healer allowed herself to be shoved into the space Dwan had just made.

“Stay in here no matter what you see or hear.  Do you hear me Glaid?”  The woman just stared blankly back at her.  The sounds were coming closer outside her door.  With no more time she closed the wardrobe door and locked it.  She threw the key under one of her beds and ran to the other one.  From beneath that bed she dragged a large black case.  She snatched it up and flung it onto the bed.  Around her neck was a chain of delicate gold braiding.  She whipped it off of her neck and found the key that was always on it.  The key opened the case.

Inside were three items.  One was an elegant slim sword.  Tag had given it to her on the day that he had rescued her from certain death at the hands of the Grey Ones.  It was in an equally elegant metal sheath and was attached to a leather belt.  Dwan quickly buckled it around her waist.

There was a bump at her door.  Voices from outside called to others.

The other two items were a small curved knife and a set of metal forearm guards.  She ignored the guards but took the time to buckle the knife onto her calf with the strap that was attached.  It rode under her uniform trousers without betraying its presence.

Something hit the door hard, and the locking mechanism rattled.  Dwan looked to the wardrobe.  It had slatted doors out of which Glaid would be able to see.  Dwan crossed back over next to it.

“Remember, make no sound no matter what you see or hear.”  Again she received no response.

The door was kicked from the outside.  A booted foot crashed through the thin wood.  Two more kicks and the door simply splintered.  A man stepped halfway into the room and saw Dwan standing by the bed.  He did not see the blade in her hand which was held behind her thigh.

“All right, now,” the man said with a leer.  “And ain’t that nice, already by your bed and all?”  He stepped fully inside.  The sounds of fighting still raged outside.  He was shorter than Dwan, as were most men, and his hair had been hacked off to shoulder length.  He wore dirty white canvas clothes and ragged boots which had seen better days.  There was a broad-bladed sword in his hand.

Dwan stood still.  She had no trouble looking and sounding afraid.  “Don’t hurt me,” she said.

The man laughed.  “Hurt you, Little Bird?  Now why would I do that?  You and me is gonna just have us a little tickle before we go take a boat ride.”

He crossed the room, confident in the helplessness of his prey.  He was three paces from her when she danced gracefully forward and drove the sword directly into his chest.  By chance it had slid between his ribs and drove on through the heart and out of his back.  The blade was withdrawn as quickly as it was employed.  She skipped back two paces and held the weapon out in front of her.

Her would-be rapist and kidnapper looked down at his chest in shock.  The attack had been so quick that it had barely registered on him.  Now he saw thin streams of blood spurting from the hole in his chest with every heartbeat.  His eyes lifted back to Dwan.  “Now what’d you want to do that for?” he asked.  He seemed to remember his weapon and raised it over his head.  Dwan steadied herself, ready to strike again, but the man appeared to get dizzy, lowered his sword and put a hand to the wound.  It came away bloody.  He held it up for Dwan to see with an accusatory expression on his face.  Then he dropped dead in front of her.

Dwan hopped over the dead man and went to try to shut the shattered door as much as was possible, but two more men burst in.  It took them a moment to realize what had transpired in the room.  They saw their dead comrade and the tall woman with a sword in her hand. 

The moment that they took to read the situation was just long enough for Dwan to strike.  She slid her right foot forward as far as she could extend it.  At the same time her right arm shot straight out, driving her sword ahead of it.  The point of her weapon caught one of the men in the fleshy part of the arm.  It drove through and pierced his ribcage on the other side.

The man screamed in a voice so high it could have been mistaken for a woman.  Dwan pressed the attack while they were still halfway inside the room.  She was now too close to drive her weapon straight in to the other pirate, but she was able to slash his face with a backhanded maneuver.  The slashed man cursed and stumbled forward into the wardrobe.  The heavy furniture piece did not move, and he fell beside it with his hand cupping his face.

Dwan jumped forward trying for a killing wound before the man could rise, but he slid his legs around and struck out at her.  The kick caught her on the shin and she lost her footing.  When she hit the floor she heard the pirate with the face wound cry out in triumph as he scrambled to his feet.  Dwan rolled to her side as he aimed a stomp at her head causing him to miss.  She whipped herself up into a sitting position and took her sword in both hands.  As the pirate attempted another stomp she swung her weapon as hard as she could with both hands.  The blade, which was kept exquisitely sharp, sliced through the man’s upper thigh.  He jumped back cursing and crying out in pain, and Dwan was able to regain her feet.

The two men circled her now.  The first pirate was bleeding from the wounds to his arm and his ribcage.  His sword hand trembled, and Dwan guessed she had ruptured his lung.  The other man was pressing one hand to his face as he carefully edged around her with his long knife held out in front.  Dwan took note of the arterial color of the blood that pulsed from his leg and knew he would not survive the wound.  The pirate was blissfully ignorant of his imminent death, and he showed her an evil smile as he approached her.

“Now then, Missy,” he taunted.  “Now that we have made our introductions, and we all know where we stands, I think it’s time we all had us a tickle.”  He looked down and, for the first time, noticed the dead pirate on the floor.  “Lo, look there Ausie,” he said to his wheezing partner, “That’s Bakey, it is.”  He looked at Dwan again.  “After we has us a time or two I’m afraid you has to pay for that there.  He’s a shipmate to me and Ausie.”

Dwan saw the blood puddling on the floor at his feet.  She held her blade out in front with her right hand and raised the left behind her for balance.  She did her best to keep the fear from her voice.  “There’s more steel here for you if you’ve taken a liking to it.  As for your intentions,” she nodded at his leg.  “That’s an artery wound.  You might last another minute or two, but you’ll not have enough blood left in you for what you want.  These are your last moments alive, Pirate.  Spend them well.”

The man was shaken by her words.  He backed up as if to examine his situation more fully.  He looked down at his leg and saw the massive bleeding which had soaked his pant leg.  There was a sizeable pool forming at his feet.

Then there was a crash as the other man lost consciousness and fell against a glow bulb and nightstand. The fall distracted Dwan just enough that the other pirate was able to jump on her, using his greater weight to pull her down with him on top of her.  She strained against him, but he was still stronger than she.  He pinned her arms and put his face to hers.  He smiled with green teeth.

“Now then, Missy, first we’ll have us our tickle, then we’ll…we’ll…”

The smile faded from his face first.  He looked at her in confusion.  He started to say something, opened his mouth then closed it.  He looked at her with a questioning expression.  Then the pupils in his eyes opened wide, and his head fell limply onto her chest. 

Dwan struggled under his weight.  She tried to push him off, but he was too heavy.  She got her hands under his shoulders and pushed.  He moved a little.  She put all of her strength into it, and he moved some more.  She was almost out from under him when more men filed into her residence.  They saw the dead men around her and the slim sword, obviously crafted for a woman.

Dwan was yanked off of the floor by two men and held roughly between them.  Three more were now inside.  They appeared more surprised than angry about her actions.  There were even a few laughs.

In a corner one of them was holding his ear to the collapsed man with the punctured lung.

“Hey now,” he shouted, “Ausie here is alive, I think.”

“And it was this bitch here what killed them others.  Killed them with that little ladies sword.” Said another.

One of them was holding her weapon out as if he were inspecting it.  “What, you mean this?  This is barely more than a knife.  She might have surprised old Ausie here, but Bakey was a good man with a sword.  There ain’t no way she got three of us by herself.” 

The men started searching the apartment, looking to see if there was someone else hidden.  Dwan tensed when they tried the door on the wardrobe.  She knew she had to distract them.

“You think I couldn’t kill your friends by myself?  Give me back my blade, and I’ll show you.”

There were still two men holding her.  Another walked over and slapped her hard across the face.  She saw stars, and her head whipped to the side.

“You’ll show us nothing ya’ Noble slut.  You killed our mates.”  He drew a knife and put it to her throat.

“Stop there.”  Another man entered.  The sounds of fighting had risen even louder outside of the apartment.  There was a large courtyard there, and she could hear the sounds of combat coming in.  She heard shouts coming from the pirates telling the others to withdraw.

The new arrival was taller than the others, though he was still not as tall as Dwan.  He was better dressed and better armed with twin swords.  He had an air of authority about him.  He took in the sight within the residence and showed no reaction whatsoever.  “We’re being driven back.  Take her and follow me.”

One of them rebelled.  “She killed our mates, Quartermaster,” he argued.

The other shrugged.  “They won’t be the only ones lost today.  She’s valuable, look at her.  She’ll bring us a fortune.  Now get moving or stay here, I don’t care, but don’t hurt her or I’ll come and find you.  You want that?”

“No Quartermaster, meaning no disrespect, Sir.”

“Good now get her, and let’s go, those bastards know how to fight.”

***

Jo-Dal heard the alarm of enemy in the walls.  He had been dining with Tyner.  He leapt up and ran for the hall giving instructions for his personal bodyguard to stay with the king.  Tyner immediately overruled him and sent them to perform their primary duty which was to protect Jo-Dal.  Tyner armed himself and his three stewards then sealed the doors to his hall.

Jo-Dal blinked at the bright sun as he emerged from the royal suites onto the defensive walkway at the top of the wall.  Four hundred yards away he could see pirates streaming out of a residence near the apartments that were assigned to the workers in the clinic.  There were already many dead bodies from both sides strewn around the wide street.  As he dashed down the steps to the lower level, the King’s Sword saw several women being pulled and pushed back toward the direction from which the pirates were still coming.  He watched as several unarmed Aspellian men tried to free the women and were ruthlessly struck down for their efforts.

The Aspell Warriors were quartered at the opposite end of the stronghold from these residences, but they would soon be upon the invaders.  Jo-Dal and the ten men of his personal bodyguard reached them first.

One does not become the Sword of the King at such a young age without having considerable skill as a warrior.  Jo-Dal put those skills on display as he whipped off his jacket and threw it over the head of the nearest enemy fighter.  He wasted no time in skewering the man before he could free his head and then moved to the pirate on his left.  This man had a pike with a hook on one side.  The outlaw attempted to snag Jo-Dal’s leg with the hook, but it was kicked away, and a slash of the Commander’s sword took off both of the pirate’s arms.  The man screamed in horror and pain until Jo-Dal knocked him aside with an elbow strike.