Soldiers of Legend

by Stephen L. Nowland

  Silence fell over the group once the sword had finished speaking. Robert stood with a cigar in his mouth, the smoke wafting around in the wind as he processed this unexpected event. Pacian was the first to speak, bringing his usual knack for clarity to the discussion.

  “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard,” he declared. “Am I the only one who thinks it’s strange that we’re talking to a bloody sword?”

  “The blade is merely the vessel,” Sayana explained quietly. “It is the creature’s spirit within that speaks to us.”

  “This is an astonishing development,” Criosa said. “The very creature who banished the Ironlord a hundred years ago has returned to us in spirit, to aid our cause once again.”

  In spite of my impressive display, Salinder explained, my time here is limited. Do not think that I will squander my remaining energies on pointless tasks. Get me to the Ironlord, and I will slay it.

  “It just occured to me that we could have had this conversation before we confronted Azurefang,” Robert pointed out blandly.

  I wished to keep my presence hidden until I could determine your allegiances, Salinder explained. Your sorceress, in particular, required closer scrutiny.

  “When I first saw you on the Aether, you attacked me,” Sayana recalled. “What is it about me you fear?”

  I fear nothing, Salinder growled. You bear the inscribed sigils that mark you as a weapon of the ruinous powers that used to hunt my kind for sport, and sow discord amongst the ancient peoples of Feydwiir. Everyone turned to stare in astonishment at Sayana, who was caught off guard by this sudden revelation. She looked helplessly back at Aiden, who wracked his mind to determine whether or not the information he’d gleaned from the Lexicon confirmed or denied this statement.

  “I am nobody’s weapon,” Sayana retorted. “Never have I used my power to harm innocents, or betray the people close to me.”

  “The people you speak of — the ones who created this gauntlet and the Lexicon — disappeared thousands of years ago,” Aiden pointed out to Salinder. “I don’t have all the details, but the one thing I am absolutely certain of is that she was not born with those markings. Somebody had to engrave them onto her.”

  The origin is not important, Salinder insisted. Throughout history, sorcerers enhanced by such eldritch arcana have appeared in the middle of civilizations and gone berserk, destroying any and all around them at will. These people acted normally before going insane — why do you think yourself the exception?

  Sayana struggled to find anything to say, leaving those ominous words hanging in the air. The prospect of her suddenly using her considerable abilities to destroy at random was difficult to believe. A feeling of unease settled over the group as everyone looked at her in a new light. Sayana lowered her eyes and allowed her hair to fall in front of her face.

  I will concede you have yet to show signs of this change, the sword continued. It is possible you will be of use in the coming fight, so I make you this promise, Sayana — when you go berserk and begin killing your companions, I will see to it you are destroyed, quickly and painlessly. Now, we have wasted enough time in idle discussion. My time grows shorter by the moment.

  Aiden reached out and pulled the sword from the ground and sheathed it, having heard more than enough, and silently angry with the dragon spirit for its blunt assessment. Sayana was coldly indignant and said nothing, backing away from the group to gather her thoughts.

  Aiden noticed Nellise had stepped away from them too, appearing to be sanctifying the icy tomb where the fallen soldiers of Stonegaard laid. He walked over to join her, sensing something wrong and as she noticed his approach, Nellise turned to say something.

  “Before you say it, yes, I now understand how you came back to life, and no, you weren’t sent by God.”

  “I really wanted to tell you earlier but, how could I?” Aiden asked. “It sounds ridiculous, and nobody would have taken me seriously if I explained it in detail. Now you’ve heard it straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak. Are you okay?”

  “Of course, I just…” Nellise answered hesitantly before continuing. “There is so much in the heavens and the earth that we do not understand, Aiden. Maybe this is all part of the divine plan, and maybe it isn’t, but what I can tell you, is that a powerful spirit intervened to save not just you, but me, Pacian, Colt, even Criosa when you get right down to it, not to mention all the lives that would have been lost if Culdeny fell.

  “What are you trying to say?” Aiden asked curiously as she finished splashing some holy water on the battlefield gravesite.

  “I don’t think I was far off when I said God sent you to save us. Powerful forces seek to aid our cause, and that alone should tell us that what we’re doing is right. Everything that has gone before has led us to this point. The Ironlord will come, and we shall break it.”

  “I appreciate your confidence,” Aiden remarked with a hint of a smile.

  “My only real concern is Sayana,” Nellise added, “because if Salinder is correct, she could be in serious danger.”

  “I don’t want to jump to any conclusions about what she may or may not do, “Aiden suggested. “All I can say is that she’s a friend and a powerful ally, and we need her. We’ll deal with anything else as it arises.”

  “You have to admit; the sword made a compelling argument,” Nellise pointed out.

  “There’s a sentence you’d never thought you’d say,” Aiden remarked, drawing a brief laugh from her. “Come on, let’s get back on the road.”

  Nellise nodded then put away her things and went back to her horse, while Aiden went to check on Sayana. Robert was already there, and the two of them seemed to be having a quiet but fierce discussion about something.

  “You’re not helping,” Sayana said to the mercenary as Aiden approached.

  “There’s no comforting some people,” Robert grunted, throwing the butt of his cigar onto the ground as he glanced at Aiden before heading for his horse.

  “Whatever he said, he’s dead wrong,” Aiden assured the sorceress. “You can ride with me if you want. Robert’s clearly not looking to cause us any problems, besides making insensitive remarks.”

  “But if Salinder is right about me—”

  “He’s not,” Aiden interrupted bluntly. “You’re not some kind of weapon about to go off and destroy everything around us.”

  “But if he is,” Sayana insisted, brushing her hair aside, “Whoever I ride with could be the first one to die. At this point, I’d rather it was Robert. The rest of you mean too much to me.”

  “Whatever you think best,” Aiden conceded cautiously. “For what it’s worth, nothing I’ve read from history suggested those ancient sorcerers went crazy at a moment’s notice.”

  “So, I’ve got that to look forward to then,” Sayana almost sobbed. Aiden wanted to kick himself for making it worse instead of better, so he decided to cut his losses and keep them moving.

  I am not wrong about her, Salinder purred in his mind.

  “Shut up,” Aiden growled under his breath, in no mood to hear any more about it.

  Wait, there is something else, Salinder said.

  “I’m not interested in your hypothesis,” Aiden said as he climbed onto his saddle.

  There is another dragon approaching, the sword informed him, instantly getting Aiden’s attention. Do not bother looking — it is above us, amongst the clouds.

  “Is Azurefang returning?” Aiden asked in alarm.

  No, this dragon is smaller.

  “Do you recognize it?”

  No, but I suspect we will discover shortly.

  “Why do you say that?”

  Because it is diving straight for us, Salinder advised calmly. Aiden experienced a different reaction to this news.

  “Everyone, look out — we have a dragon descending on us,” he cried, looking at the skies for signs of its imminent arrival. Everyone kept a tight rein on their horses as they looked around, caught off guard at this sudden tur
n of events. Aiden kept looking for signs of the dragon, yet saw nothing but the turbulence of something passing through the cloud.

  On a hunch, he focused his arcane sight, shifting his vision until everything appeared in shades of blue — except for anything obscured by an incantation of invisibility.

  The shimmering silhouette of a dragon soared over them, heading for the ground ahead of the group, where it kicked up a cloud of snow and dirt upon landing. Aiden released his focus and allowed his vision to return to normal as the dragon became visible to the naked eye, startling their horses as it folded its wings and settled down on its haunches.

  Everyone had their weapons drawn, but to Aiden’s surprise, the interloper was only a small dragon, standing around ten feet in height as it sat upon the ground.

  Much like the other dragons Aiden had encountered, it was sleek and serpentine in appearance. Its long jaw was filled with razor-sharp teeth and its reptilian eyes regarded them with cold indifference. This dragon’s scales were different than the others — glossy and smooth, reflecting the snow around it like a mirror. Even as he watched, Aiden could see the scales change colour to blend in with its surroundings, like camouflage.

  It is Spartan. Do nothing, Salinder advised calmly. Aiden wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not, but figured they could probably fight a small dragon without too much trouble. His companions had recovered from their initial alarm and managed to get their horses under control as they stared curiously at the winged creature, which began to stalk warily around them in a wide circle.

  Aiden felt vulnerable as Spartan scrutinized them, taking an occasional sniff with its protruding maw. It did not seem impressed with what it saw, passing by Pacian and Nellise with indifference. The small dragon gave Sayana a piercing stare before continuing on past, and when it finally came around to Aiden, it spent a long moment examining him with its pale green eyes before sitting back on its haunches.

  All who have encountered Azurefang have been destroyed, or sent back the way they came, the dragon stated in Aiden’s mind. The voice was decidedly male, dry and without humour. Yet, you have not only passed by, you have somehow banished her to the skies without giving her so much as a scratch. Tell me how you accomplished this. It was not a question.

  “Do you want to handle this, or should I?” Aiden asked of Salinder. There was no response from the sword, and the dragon standing not ten yards away tilted its head curiously as if listening to someone else. After several long moments, the dragon nodded its head slowly, a curiously human mannerism from such a creature. Its posture seemed to relax somewhat as it regarded Aiden with a new perspective.

  You have a powerful ally within that soulsword, Aiden Wainwright, it intoned within his mind. The very fact you had a chance to slay one of my cousins, yet chose not to, bodes well for you. Had you done so, I would have been compelled to seek revenge in her name.

  “If we had managed to kill a dragon five times your size, what chance do you think you would have?” Robert pointed out, the mercenary leaning forward on his horse languidly. Though he carried no weapon, this fact did nothing to diminish his casual menace.

  Do not let my size mislead you, Robert Black, for I have access to powers beyond your comprehension. I have been attempting to warn away those attempting to travel here from the west, to spare their lives.

  “That’s very noble of you,” Nellise remarked cautiously. “But she’s gone, now. You can go back to whatever you were doing before Azurefang showed up.”

  I have been monitoring events in the southwest, the dragon explained. A being of immense power has entered to this world and its intentions are not benign. Salinder informs me you seek to destroy it, and has asked for my aid to your cause. I have accepted, to honour the sacrifice of he who was the greatest of our kind. You may call me Spartan.

  “Well this is an unexpected turn of events,” Criosa remarked as the tension seemed to vanish. “I am honoured that you would consider joining with my entourage. With your aid, we may yet prevail against our common enemy.”

  You misunderstand, Spartan said. You will all be under my command for the duration of this quest. Criosa blinked in surprise and glanced around at the others at this revelation.

  “I am the daughter of King Seamus Roebec, sovereign ruler of Aielund,” she intoned with her best ‘I’m in charge’ voice. “I am leading this expedition, and though your offer of help is appreciated, understand it is our kingdom that is under threat. I have decided to lead at this dark time, and I would ask you respect my authority.”

  I bow before no human, the small dragon purred within their minds, and certainly not a woman of privilege pretending to be a general. You are all little more than children, preparing to face a force that has effortlessly brought civilisations to ruin. Only one of you has the experience required to face it, and he is a man of dubious moral fibre.

  “He’s not wrong,” Robert remarked, unfazed by the frank assessment.

  “You’re not helping,” Sayana muttered, giving him a poke for good measure.

  Continue your journey, Spartan spoke with mild condescension. I will contact you again after you have passed through Culdeny. The people there would react poorly to my presence. I will be watching. With that, the small dragon spread his wings and leaped into the air, vanishing from sight moments later as his camouflage changed to obscure him amongst the clouds.

  “Smug bastard,” Pacian remarked after he was sure Spartan had disappeared.

  “I suppose we should be grateful,” Criosa murmured with a cold glance at the sword on Aiden’s belt. “What exactly did you tell him?”

  That you were travelling to your doom and only his intervention would save your lands, Salinder explained evenly. Do not take offence — my colourful description was required to ensure his attention. You will need to educate him on your capabilities to earn his respect.

  “Do I have yours?” Criosa asked curiously. There was no answer from the sword, leaving the question awkwardly hanging in the air. The princess, clearly offended, sheathed her rapier and stiffly turned her horse to the west, setting out at a brisk trot without another word.

  Aiden wanted to have words with Salinder, but decided there was little point — the selfish ego of dragons was legendary, and having his spirit transferred into the magic sword had done little to diminish this less appealing aspect of Salinder’s character.

  They settled into a steady canter that ate up the miles. The road was flat and even, allowing them to keep their speed for as long as the horses could manage. By the time the sun was touching the horizon, they were nearing the western edge of the mountains, affording Aiden a splendid view of the distant sight of Culdeny. The town was still several hours away, but they resolved to continue on.

  The quality of the road improved as they rode, giving the horses a chance to stretch their legs. They were lathered in sweat by the time he could see the twinkling lights coming from city as the light faded from the sky, a welcome sight after days of travel through the mountains. Thoughts of a warm, comfortable bed spurred Aiden onwards, until Robert signalled for everyone to halt.

  “My horse is played out,” the mercenary informed them as he stepped down. “I guess my passenger isn’t as light as she looks.”

  “A comment about a woman’s weight,” Pacian remarked dryly. “That’s not going to end well for you.”

  “We can afford a short break,” Criosa said tiredly, stepping down from her horse and stretching her muscles. Aiden couldn’t help but observe this procedure for a moment until he realised he was being a little obvious about it.

  “Did you pick this place on purpose?” Sayana asked Robert as she alighted to the ground. He glanced at her curiously and looked at their surroundings. Aiden noticed something familiar about the place too, from the sounds of the not-too-distant sea crashing against the shore, to the swaying trees beside the road. A memory of a terrible battle flashed through his mind, and it was then Aiden recalled this was the site of the Battle o
f Culdeny. Robert had come to the same realisation.

  “I didn’t stop here consciously, but yes… this is pretty much where you killed me,” he muttered.

  “Oh yeah, so it is,” Pacian quipped. “Do you have any profound revelations regarding mortality to share with the rest of us?”

  “Nothing earthshaking, no,” Robert grunted. “What the hell would I say, anyway? ‘Gosh, that was unpleasant’, or ‘Now I’ve seen the error of my ways’. I didn’t see any burning pitchforks, or hear angels calling for me. Sorry to disappoint.”

  “You don’t seem too upset by your brush with death,” Nellise observed. “I would have thought it’d bother you at least a little.” Robert took his horse’s reins and started to walk the exhausted mount towards town. The rest of them nudged their horses along to keep up with him.

  “Truth be told, the defeat was more painful than the death,” Black explained, sounding philosophical. “One of these days you’re going to have to tell me how your hilariously unprepared little group managed to take down so many of my seasoned men.”

  “Faith and courage, Robert,” Nellise advised him with quiet reverence.

  “Don’t give me that ‘we won because we’re righteous’ nonsense,” the mercenary snapped, glaring over his shoulder at Nellise. “I’ve seen zealots spouting those sentiments cause the worst atrocities you’ve never seen.”

  “Then I guess we’re just better than you,” Pacian chided him.

  “Yeah, seems like it,” Robert mumbled.

  “This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Sayana advised them. “There’s no point dwelling in the past.”

  “Says the woman who cut out my eye with an axe,” the mercenary grunted bitterly.

  “That isn’t something I’d care to relive,” she replied quietly, walking alongside Robert. “Do you realise how fearsome you were in that fight? It was like fighting a monster — you just wouldn’t give up.”