The Contention (3 page)

With blood pouring from several wounds, the great white mount reared up on its hind legs. With a snort it leaped over its fallen rider and came thundering across the river at an amazing speed. Though the charger had not registered Mordal, as his blessing made him all but invisible, the beast nearly trampled him causing him to dive out of the animal’s path at the last instant. He cursed loudly as several bolts spilled from the hopper on his weapon. Fortunately the great white charger had another target already picked out, and so did not turn to face him having heard him curse.

Fitting his weapon back to his shoulder, Mordal took aim once again as the charger met his stallion upon the field. With hooves and teeth the great white war horse began its assault on his black stallion, and for a moment Mordal let his beast take the abuse. Had the animal kept its mouth shut neither of them would be in this predicament. However, even if his beast deserved the beating, he needed the animal. Turning the crank to his gnomish device, Mordal unloaded more than a dozen rounds, careful to spare his stallion any injury. Watching as the great white beast reared back, blood gushing from seemingly everywhere, Mordal witnessed it letting loose a pitiful scream before crumpling back upon its hind legs and thrashing about the ground blindly as its lifeblood pooled upon the soil.

Finally Mordal had found a messenger, though to receive payment he would need to collect the boy’s medallion and his coin purse for good measure. Collecting the bolts that had fallen from his weapon, Mordal stood, leaving his mount where it was, to go and collect the spoils of his trade. However, this night was turning out to be quite aggravating as the boy was not where he had fallen. It appeared Mordal would have to do some tracking, to which he smiled, for never in his career had a target escaped him for very long.

Excited by the thrill of the hunt, Mordal relinquished his magical camouflage and strode to the edge of the river to discern whatever details he could of the boy’s escape.

*****

Darion ducked beneath a portion of the far bank that had become washed out by the river’s slow current. This time of year the water was incredibly cold with the head waters filtering down from the mountains to the north, where winter had already staked its claim. With his teeth chattering and body shivering, Darion crouched within the small confines of his chosen hiding place and found himself in a terrible predicament. In order to entirely conceal his body, Darion was forced to kneel in the small depression in the bank, tilting his head back and leaving only his face exposed above the slow, icy cold waters. So small was the space that the roots of the vegetation above actually rested upon his face as he hid. For fear of giving away his location to the unseen attacker, Darion opened his mouth wide to keep his teeth from chattering. However, as roots dangled into his mouth, and flecks of soil fell into his throat, he was forced to fight his gag reflex. What was worse, with no way to see or hear his attacker, Darion had no idea how long he would need to wait within the icy waters, nor how long he would be able to do so. However it was not a long wait before the roots resting upon his face sagged nearer his flesh, and dirt began raining down upon him and into his mouth. Darion froze in realization, so fearful of being discovered he dared not even breathe, as his attacker was now literally standing just above his face.

*****

Mordal eyed the far bank momentarily, looking for any sign of movement in the darkness. His blessed vision showed no sign of the messenger upon the other bank. Mordal’s blessing was unique he presumed, and it had been the difference between success and failure more times than he could count. The ability to see things clearly at a distance allowed him to see details that to another assassin would be obscure. The unnatural tautness that overcame his muscles while awash in his blessing allowed him to react faster, move faster, dodge faster and even strike harder. Those two enhancements were enough to bring down most of his targets, but his ability to see the world by the heat contained within objects was the most useful at night.

This night was a perfect example, Mordal thought, as he looked to the water flowing just beyond his toes. Though the vast majority of the water appeared a dark hue of purple in his vision, a streak flowed from just beneath him of a slightly lighter hue, meaning something down there was warming the water around it as it flowed past. Smiling to himself, Mordal reached into his belt and removed another gnomish weapon he was very fond of. It appeared to be a spear except for the fact that it was only half as long as his arm. However, with a click of a catch and a flick of the wrist, the shaft extended as section after section of steel tubing with an ever smaller diameter slid out from the larger one behind it with a series of clicks. Now the spear was as long as he was tall. Grabbing its shaft with both hands, Mordal raised his arms and drove the spear down with all his might through the soil between his boots and several feet down below the surface of the ground.

*****

Darion remained unmoving for what felt like forever, his lungs tightening in his chest, his body silently screaming for more air. He knew he would not be able to remain this way much longer and wondered what exactly his attacker was doing simply standing there on the bank. Panic threatened again and again to overcome him as the warmth leached from his body and his lungs felt as if they might explode. But even when his vision began to blur, he waited a few more seconds before he finally dared to take another breath. Slowly, more slowly than what his body cried for, Darion took a breath. Little did he know it would be his last. For just as soon as Darion had filled his lungs to capacity, he was struck unexpectedly. Though no matter how vicious the attack was, Darion felt as the blade thrust into his mouth, splitting his tongue in two before plunging out the back of his skull above his neck and then driving on down through his spine and into his vital internal organs. So swift was the strike that to Darion that final moment seemed to slow, allowing him to feel each new agonizing pain individually before the shaft of the weapon was extruded from his body, releasing vast amounts of blood from each of the wounds. As the weapon was removed from his body with a jerk and a twist, Darion, his face now below the icy waters, released his last breath in a gurgle of his own blood in an attempt to scream before his eyes rolled back and the world was lost to him.

*****

Mordal chuckled as he pulled the boy’s ruined body just far enough out of the water to remove anything of value. Taking the boy’s medallion, coin purse and dagger, the assassin then shoved the boy back into the water with his boot. Finally his mission to Valdadore was showing some promise. This messenger had more coin than some minor lords Mordal had brought to their end in his homeland. Mordal could not help but grin at his luck as he turned to regain his mount. This was going to be a lucrative venture, Mordal thought as he climbed back into his saddle, guiding the stallion to resume in their original direction.

Chapter 2

Reunited Family and Restored Glory

Morning was quickly approaching as the last of the plans were laid in preparation to defend Valdadore. All who had spent the night awaiting orders in the chamber adjacent to the king’s study had been dismissed and told to carry out their missions with all haste. The only people who remained in that high chamber of the king’s palace were the king himself and his closest, most trusted allies. Though each of them was exhausted, both mentally and physically, Seth knew that more needed to be said before he and Sara could retire from the chamber as well. So much had changed since the battle with the black horde, Seth felt that Garret, of all people, would not only understand but also need the truth in order to realistically put to use his brother’s abilities. So after many thoughts on how to begin his tale, pausing briefly to allow Linaya to yawn, an action then repeated by everyone in the room, Seth sighed loudly and began to speak.

“There are a few things you should know, brother, in reference to myself and Sara, that not only relate to our current circumstances, but also to how we will be behaving for the unforeseeable future,” Seth began, and watched as Garret’s eyebrows lifted showing both his attention and curiosity. “Sara and I have undergone changes that greatly affect our ability to aid you. Though I was affected less than she, the most I can tell you about myself at this time is that I will be greatly hindered during daytime hours.”

“What do you mean, ‘hindered’?” Garret asked, his face scrunching up in thought.

“My eyes can no longer withstand the sun. In direct sunlight I am completely blind, though in indirect light I can see fine,” Seth answered, letting his brother guide the conversation from this point forward.

“This happened because of that final blast in the battle with the black horde?” Garret enquired.

“It did not happen so much in the blast, but as a result of what Sara and I had to endure following the blast. The entire tale I shall relate to you at a future date when there are not so many pressing things to attend to. But know this: I am more powerful now than I was then, only I must shield my face from the sun,” Seth proclaimed with a smirk.

“What of you, Sara? Has the same befallen you?” Garret asked, allowing Sara to tell her own portion of the tale.

“I wish it were so, Garret,” Sara began, her face becoming awash with pain briefly as she recalled her most recent foray into the light. “I am afraid that my condition is much worse than that of my husband.”

“How so?” Garret asked.

“No portion of my flesh can be exposed to the sun under any circumstances,” she explained slowly. “If direct sunlight falls upon my skin, within an instant it burns away, then my muscles and vessels below that, finally even my bones.”

Linaya gasped audibly.

“But Sara, how then do you intend to fight?” Garret asked perplexed, though continued without an answer. “You made it quite obvious you do not plan to sit this battle out, but if you cannot withstand the very sun that lights the skies, in what capacity do you intend to help?”

Without so much as an instant of hesitation, in the fraction of a blink of an eye, Sara lifted her body using the arms of her chair and slid her legs beneath her. Without pausing to think, working on the instincts of her new body alone, Sara sprang with all her might. The chair crashed against the wall behind her as her lithe body, still fully armored, sailed like an arrow across the chamber over Garret’s head. As she flew, Sara twisted in the air, and as she made contact with the opposite wall, she used her legs to slow her impact. For a fraction of a moment it appeared as though she knelt upon the wall, defying gravity completely. Garret barely caught a glimpse of this action as he swiveled in his immense chair, but watched still as Sara, pulling a sword from the wall that had been hung there as decoration, sprang again effortlessly up into the air before doing a somersault and plummeting down once more. As Sara fell through the air she again repositioned her body for maximum leverage and landed upon Garret’s huge desk in a crouch, burying the sword to the hilt through the thick, ancient wood of the desk.

“That, my brother, is how I intend to fight. If need be I will accompany Seth’s troops to fight at night. I am no longer helpless, Garret. I can hold my own,” Sara said with a mischievous smile.

“I can see that,” Garret replied, pausing a moment to ponder. “So is this also a portion of how you were changed by whatever means it was that you were altered?”

“Yes, brother.” It was Seth who answered. “Her alteration has both a very negative side, and one that thus far is quite impressive. But I will not let you accompany my troops, Sara,” Seth announced as Sara turned to face him with a somewhat confused if not angry look upon her face. “Not until you have been trained to fight by the very best and not until I have prepared you as well as I am able,” he added.

Sara smiled, her face lighting up as it had done the first day Seth had met her. Again he was being protective, trying to keep her from harm. Now, however, Seth knew she was more capable than most of defending herself, and as such he respected her enough to not argue with her wishes.

“One more thing, Garret,” Seth said, causing his brother’s eyebrows to rise once again. “I have witnessed how a small, fairly well trained force can hold its own against a much larger force and also against unbelievable odds. Sara and I can relay that information to the army and they can begin training at once, if you think it a fair plan.” Seth concluded.

“How is it accomplished?” Garret asked, his knowledge of battle tactics disappointedly limited.

“You break your men into small units of about twenty. Each of them is very lightly armored, carrying only a spear and a very large shield like this.” Seth picked up a piece of parchment off the floor then hunted out a quill and ink before drawing a rough sketch of the shield design. “Then your men form up in a circle, each facing the outside like this.” Seth again drew a sketch. “There is also an inner ring like this.” Once more he drew hastily. “Then in the middle the men use their shields to form a roof like this,” Seth said, completing his drawing.

 “It’s like a turtle,” Garret smiled.

“Yes, but it is a turtle that can strike in all directions and yet is invulnerable to most attacks, especially from arrows,” Seth explained.

“It is brilliant. Tomorrow, while I take my men west, you shall relay this to Sulvis and the men will begin training at once. We will need a lot of shields and spears, something we do not have in excess. I will have to have the blacksmiths working all hours of the day and night to make this happen, but I think it may be just the advantage we need,” Garret said grinning.

“You go buy us more time. I will see to it that the blacksmiths have some help,” Seth replied.

“I have not forgotten you either, Sara,” Garret said. “Since you move so quickly and effortlessly, I know the very man to train you in the use of weapons properly. Tomorrow evening you must go to the knights’ training field. He will be waiting.”