Black Crystal

by R A Oakes

  As the warrior women dismounted, many looked over at Marcheto. Fresh from battle, they were filled with restless energy and adrenaline was flooding through their veins. When Gwendylln saw the young man, she spat on the ground in anger. Just the sight of him enraged her. Some warrior women headed over towards Marcheto and Aerylln, anger filling their eyes and their fists clenched.

  Marcheto felt a sense of hopelessness as the ferocious-looking women strode towards him. The young man knew he couldn’t survive another beating. His body was already so wracked with pain that he could hardly bear it. Having fainted only a few minutes ago, Marcheto was still dizzy, and his stomach felt sick.

  As the women continued making their way across the courtyard, Aerylln quietly stepped between them and her boyfriend while placing a hand on Baelfire’s hilt. That was enough to stop two of the warrior women, but five others ignored her warning and kept on coming.

  Squaring her shoulders, Aerylln drew Baelfire ever so slightly out of her scabbard exposing the metal blade a fraction of an inch. A thin sheet of blinding light instantly burst from the sword, and the approaching warrior women stopped and covered their eyes. Sliding the blade back into its scabbard, Aerylln faced the women and didn’t blink. Her gaze was steady, firm and determined.

  The message was clear, This is my man, keep your distance!

  The warrior women backed away and rejoined their sisters, but now all of them were glaring at Marcheto.

  Glancing over at the castle’s main tower, Aerylln saw Chen’s father coming out of the entrance. Ritalso and Chen hadn’t reconciled their differences, but she permitted him free and safe passage throughout the castle. And, at the moment, Ritalso was performing an important errand for Aerylln.

  While watching Chen’s father heading towards them, Marcheto noticed he was carrying a wooden shield, a sword and a knife. Upon reaching the younger man, Ritalso laid the armaments next to Marcheto who stared at them in silence.

  “You know what you have to do,” Aerylln said. “You have to ask Lord Daegal to honor the ancient ritual of trial by combat.”

  “Yes, I’ve thought about that myself,” Marcheto said looking over at Chen’s warrior women who were still glowering at him. “I’d have to fight someone from Lord Daegal’s army who’s an excellent warrior, someone good enough to kill me. Then, should I survive, I’d be welcomed back into the good graces of those who now want me dead. But I don’t know, it sounds like a long shot to me.”

  “Well, you can’t stay here, not after what you did,” Aerylln said. “If you want me, you’re going to have to fight for me.”

  That was exactly what Marcheto needed to hear. He wanted Aerylln more than anything, even more than his own life, and he’d do whatever it took to win her back. Being in love made Marcheto feel more alive than he’d ever felt before.

  “I’ve been such a fool,” the young man said deeply regretting how he’d betrayed everyone at Crystal Castle. “But I felt trapped, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Like I told you before, if you’d trusted me more, we could have talked about it,” Aerylln said looking at him with a level gaze. “Now get up!”

  Forcing himself off the courtyard floor and onto his hands and knees, Marcheto tried getting onto his feet, but his head was spinning, and he collapsed. After struggling repeatedly, trying again and again to make it to his feet, Marcheto was close to passing out from exhaustion.

  Realizing she’d have to intervene, Baelfire began by expressing her own displeasure saying, “Aerylln’s very important to me, Marcheto, not only as my master but as a friend. And you hurt my friend, young man. You broke her heart.”

  Remaining silent, Marcheto looked at the powerful sword Aerylln was holding with both hands.

  “You’re alive only because Aerylln wants it that way. Were it up to me, I’d reduce you to a pile of cinders.”

  Marcheto held his breath and didn’t move.

  “As it is, Aerylln and I had a talk, and I agree that trial by combat is the only honorable way out for you, and it would lessen Aerylln’s embarrassment. Remember, we’re the ones who brought you to this castle. So, we share in your shame, and I don’t like that one bit!”

  Marcheto remained silent even after the sword finished speaking, which probably saved his life, at least for the moment, for Baelfire was on the edge of losing her temper. But Aerylln shook Baelfire gently, and the sword calmed down a little.

  “Well, are you willing to ask Lord Daegal for trial by combat?” Baelfire asked.

  “Yes, but I can hardly move. How can I endure trial by combat if I can’t even walk out the castle entrance?”

  “We might be able to help in that area,” Baelfire said, her tone softening.

  Aerylln gave the sword an affectionate squeeze, pleased that Baelfire was giving her boyfriend a second chance.

  “Okay, take hold of my scabbard,” Baelfire said.

  Marcheto hesitated and looked at Aerylln who nodded. Summoning what strength was left in his body, the young man gripped Baelfire as tightly as possible.

  The relief from pain was instantaneous. Marcheto could feel life pouring back into his body. His wounds began to heal. His throbbing headache left him. He no longer felt like he had been trampled by a mob of wild horses. He felt energized and whole again.

  The young man got to his feet and took up the sword, shield and knife. He bent down to give Aerylln a kiss, but she turned away.

  “Not until you’ve earned it,” she said while secretly wanting the kiss as much as he did.

  Marcheto ached inside for he’d wanted that kiss very badly. He wanted not just one kiss but a hundred of them. Yet most of all, he wanted Aerylln back.

  Looking at the wide-open castle entrance, the young warrior realized it was his one chance for redemption. Striding over to it, Marcheto stepped outside with a sense of grim determination. Walking through the field towards Lord Daegal’s army, the young warrior’s greatest fear was that the warlord wouldn’t take him seriously and might even laugh at him.

  Looking over his shoulder, Marcheto saw Aerylln, Baelfire, Zorya, Eldwyn, and Ritalso standing on the walkway behind the castle’s front wall and watching through the battlements. He also saw Chen and her warrior women along the top of the front wall on the parapets and watching as well. Dartuke, Thordig and the other 20 nobles from the western lands were also there. And lastly, he noticed that Balder and his 10 men had joined the nobles.

  Marcheto thought, Regardless of what Lord Daegal might say, this is no laughing matter. It’s a matter of honor. Everyone in the castle shares in my shame. They feel they’ve been duped, which is why they want me dead, out of the castle, or both.

  Both, Chen would have told him.

  Rather than killing Marcheto themselves, as they’d wanted to, the warrior women were now all watching him.

  “I hope he doesn’t embarrass us again,” Gwendylln said to Chen who was standing next to her. “He needs to at least put forth a good effort, or there’s no reason for us to have allowed him to go out there.”

  “Why did you listen to Aerylln when she asked you to permit this?” Malavika asked Chen.

  “Because, as a sign of respect, Aerylln sought out my counsel on this matter, even though that really wasn’t necessary. However, it shows that Aerylln recognizes my ownership of Crystal Castle. She sees it as my home and is willing to live by my rules. So, it was hard for me to say no.”

  “Then why did you allow us to keep threatening Marcheto? Why didn’t you tell us to stop?” Gwendylln asked.

  “I want to be sure Marcheto understands how we feel, and that he realizes the severity of what he did. But Aerylln believes he deserves a second chance and maybe she’s right. I know I needed one badly.

  “Having Crystal Castle is my second chance at life.

  Trial by combat is Marcheto’s second chance,” Chen said. “But I agree with Gwendylln, let’s hope he at least puts up a decent fight.”

  As Marcheto continued making his w
ay down the field towards Lord Daegal and his men, the young warrior passed several sentries who’d been posted as a precaution just in case there were more surprise attacks.

  As he passed the third sentry, Marcheto glanced back over his shoulder and saw Pensgraft riding out alone towards him. The giant warrior looked so regal astride his massive warhorse that the younger man actually gasped.

  After reaching Marcheto, Pensgraft pulled up on his reins and said, “No one should have to die alone. I’ll serve as a witness to what happens here today. And I’ll bring your body back for proper burial if that’s necessary, although I hope it’s not. Remember, Marcheto, you have nothing to lose now. Don’t play it safe at all. Attack from the very moment the fight starts and keep attacking. Never go on the defensive. Never!”

  Pensgraft then leaned down and extended his hand to the younger warrior. Marcheto was greatly in need of acceptance and shook the giant’s hand with gratitude. Sighing with relief, he no longer felt so alone and turned to face his destiny.

  However, in addition to that, he found himself facing his father and three older brothers who were riding towards him.

  “Marcheto, what’s going on?” Tark asked as he pulled his warhorse up next to his son.

  “I want trial by combat.”

  “Why?” Tark asked in surprise. “If you’re in trouble, we’ll all stand together. You don’t ever have to go it alone in this family. You know that.”

  “I know father, but this is something I have to do myself.”

  “You’re not here because of that young woman, are you? Oh, please, tell me you’re not risking your life to impress Aerylln.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Kirnochak, the oldest brother, said in disgust as he dismounted and walked over to the young warrior.

  “But father’s right, this is about that teenage girl, isn’t it?” Kirnochak said smacking Marcheto on the back of the head.

  “Don’t do that again!”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Kirnochak taunted him.

  Marcheto raised his shield.

  “Oh, you want to fight?” Kirnochak asked taking his own shield down from where it was hanging on the pommel of his saddle. Being older and stronger, Kirnochak managed the heavy shield easily and walked back over towards his youngest brother.

  “I’d be a little careful, if I were you. Remember, Marcheto may be small, but he’s quick, tough and smart,” Xandaric, the second oldest, cautioned Kirnochak.

  “I’m well aware he can fight! I didn’t say he couldn’t,” Kirnochak protested.

  As he got closer, Kirnochak and Marcheto made eye contact. They looked into each other, deeply into each other.

  Equally aware of Marcheto’s sensitive nature, Kirnochak knew his youngest brother could sense things, things that no one else could.

  You have a better feel for the politics of the castle than anyone else, Kirnochak had once told Marcheto. His youngest brother had simply replied that it was all very obvious to him. And it was.

  After maintaining eye contact for what seemed like a long, long time, Kirnochak sighed and asked, “So what’s really wrong?”

  But before his brother responded, Kirnochak felt a powerful force touching him and, glancing up, saw Pensgraft watching him closely. Looking into the giant’s eyes, he realized that this mountain of a man had the same intuitive gift as Marcheto.

  “What are you doing here?” Kirnochak asked.

  “I didn’t want your brother to have to stand alone.”

  “I appreciate that, but we’re here now, so you can leave if you want,” Kirnochak said.

  “I think I’ll stay.”

  “Well then, how do you feel about all this?” Tark asked.

  “Your son is about to become a man.”

  “He may die in the process.”

  “Sometimes they go hand in hand.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, he’s not your son.”

  Pensgraft remained silent and held his peace.

  “Marcheto, what’s on your mind?” Tark asked his youngest son, who was also his favorite.

  “I’m a traitor.”

  “You can’t be a traitor,” Xandaric said in exasperation. “You were following Lord Daegal’s orders, and you owe him your allegiance.”

  “I’ve changed since you last saw me.”

  “No you haven’t, not really,” Kirnochak said. “You’ve always had insights into situations that none of us were able to pick up on at first. And you’ve always been right, at least in the long haul.”

  “Then listen to me now, Lord Daegal is finished.”

  “How’s that possible? You have what, maybe 200

  warriors at Crystal Castle?” Kirnochak asked. “Look over there, Lord Daegal has over 1,000 warriors even after the debacle with Chen’s wolfhounds and archers.”

  “He’s finished. Aerylln’s the future.”

  Kirnochak tried to fathom Marcheto’s prediction suspecting that his youngest brother possessed a sixth sense enabling him to pick up on things quicker and make correct assessments faster.

  “Okay, maybe, but let’s stick to what’s happening right now,” Kirnochak suggested. “Who do you plan on fighting in this trial by combat?”

  “Tredax, son of Gornic!”

  Tark and Kirnochak looked at each other.

  Amazed, Xandaric whistled, turned to Pensgraft and said, “You have to look out for this one. Marcheto can come out of nowhere with one of those ideas of his.”

  Leaning back his head, Xandaric let out a battle cry, then said, “What a wild man you are, Marcheto. How did you come up with that one?”

  “It just came to me while I was walking out here.”

  “They couldn’t refuse us!” Xandaric exclaimed. “They would be humiliated in front of everyone!”

  Feeling a sense of fatherly pride, Tark lowered his head and smiled. Marcheto had just outmaneuvered a rival family that had been a thorn in his side for years.

  “Brilliant!” was all Adexsus, the next youngest son, could think of to say. “Absolutely brilliant!”

  “I’ll ask Lord Daegal about this, but I think he’ll go for it,” Tark said.

  “Why are you so sure?” Pensgraft asked.

  “Because it’s going to be one hell of a fight!”

  Chapter 31

  Meanwhile, on the walkway atop Crystal Castle’s front wall, Aerylln, Corson and the others were watching as Tark rode back to Lord Daegal’s army.

  “Should Marcheto lose, I’ll kill his opponent for you,” Corson told her friend.

  “No, I’ll do it myself,” Aerylln said. “After all, I’m the one who sent him out there.”

  “Yes, but if you hadn’t, Chen’s women would have killed him eventually. And it would have been sooner rather than later.”

  “I know.”

  Falling silent, Corson and Aerylln watched Tark disappearing into the ranks of Lord Daegal’s warriors, all of whom had reached the valley floor. The infantry, cavalry and archers were beginning to form into battle groups, and Corson could feel the tension building in the air.

  After searching for Lord Daegal, Tark located the warlord, explained what Marcheto wanted and, as he’d suspected, found his master to be quite receptive.

  “I hope you’re right, I hope Aerylln put him up to this, or at least suggested it,” Lord Daegal said. “If they’re in a genuine relationship, then that could work to our advantage.”

  “Sire, Marcheto may not be much use to us,” Tark said. “By now, he may have gone over to the other side completely.”

  “If everyone in Crystal Castle’s dead, there won’t be another side for him to join,” Lord Daegal said smiling grimly.

  “Well, that would solve the problem.”

  “And remember, Marcheto believes you’re a dead man if he disobeys me. Plus, if I need to, I’ll use your other three sons as hostages. When Marcheto has to choose between obedience and the loss of his entire family, he’ll do what he’s told.”

 
“I hope so,” Tark said, but he doubted that anyone could control a young man in love. And Tark didn’t like having his family threatened. He knew a threat could easily become reality, if Lord Daegal lost his temper. And the warlord’s temper was a horrible thing to see.

  Having been the captain of Lord Daegal’s personal guard for over 20 years, Tark knew his life and his very reason for living were tied to this violent and unpredictable man. But as he rode away from his master, Tark admitted to himself that Lord Daegal had changed, and changed for the worse, over the years.

  Sighing deeply, Marcheto’s father realized he’d spent much of his life defending a man who turned out to be a disappointment. However, forcing this out of his mind, Tark headed for General Gornic’s encampment.

  Lord Daegal had been pleased that Marcheto wanted Gornic’s son, Tredax, to be his opponent. Just a few minutes earlier, the warlord had smiled at Tark and said, “This fight’s been brewing for a long time.”

  “Yes, my lord, it has,” Tark had readily agreed.

  “And we should give Tredax something extra to fight for. Let him know that if he wins, I’ll let him have Chen. He’s a few years younger than her, but I don’t think he’ll mind having an experienced woman in his bed,” Lord Daegal had said.

  At first Tark had been shocked by this offer, but then he admitted to himself that nothing Lord Daegal did should come as a surprise anymore. To the warlord, selling out his niece and Tark’s entire family in an effort to get his hands on Crystal and Crystal Castle seemed perfectly reasonable.

  But approaching General Gornic’s command post, Tark put these thoughts out of his mind as well. The general’s four sons quickly surrounded the captain of Lord Daegal’s personal guard, almost laughing at him for falling into their hands so easily. Having ridden in, they were in no mood to let Tark ride out, at least not alive.

  Although feeling somewhat shaken over being in the hands of his personal enemy, Tark got a grip on himself, focused on business and said, “Marcheto wants trial by combat, and Lord Daegal says he’s to fight Tredax.”