Deathsworn Arc: The Last Dragon Slayer

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Deathsworn Arc: The Last Dragon Slayer Page 4

by Martyn Stanley


  ~

  Another Companion

  ‘She wove a sort of spell on the Berger.’ Brael spat, stepping closer ‘The gravian use this technique also, we call it “whispering”. That’s how she did it. She’s an elf.’

  The woman turned to Brael. ‘You have excellent skills of perception gravian, but I’ll thank you to forget about that fact, or I shall make you forget it.’ Silus and Votrex exchanged a concerned glance, Harald backed away, shaken.

  Korhan seemed the only one who didn’t seem intimidated; he rode closer.

  ‘Stop! Stand your ground, oaf!’

  He looked her in the eye. ‘Or what? Would you cut my throat, mistress elf?’

  ‘If need be, Northman.’

  Korhan smirked as he rode over. ‘How strange, one goes through one’s entire life without ever meeting a single member of the magical races, then when one sets out to slay a Noble Dragon - with a dwarf as a companion – one winds up meeting both a dark elf and an elf on the same day. You wouldn’t kill me... Why don’t you remove your hood and show us all your famous elvish beauty?’

  As he spoke he moved closer. The rest watched with nervous apprehension. As he neared, impossibly quickly, she lifted herself into the air and planted herself behind Korhan on his horse. Except Korhan had seen the move before and expected her to attempt it. As she landed he leaned forward and curled his arm backwards, pulling her off the horse with him. He rolled in the dead leaves, tussling with her, causing her hood to fall away revealing her long pointed ears and smooth delicate features.  They wrestled fiercely, scattering the dry leaves around, each trying to pin the other down. Korhan was a mountain of a man and agile, but in strength and agility he’d met his match. So it became a game of cunning and skill – each trying to trick and outmanoeuvre the other. Korhan grabbed her, preparing to pin her – but she slipped a leg in, levering him over. As he slumped sideways she pounced, grasping at his wrists. Korhan twisted to release himself, rolled, and shoved her to the forest floor. The others had to back away to create space as the match continued. Eventually Korhan straddled her, his weight on top, his palms pressing her wrists down to the earth.

  He was grinning and panting. She glared at him, outraged. ‘You have a strange way of expressing your gratitude for one who has just saved your life, barbarian!’

  He leaned forwards. ‘Then how about this?’ He planted his lips on hers and kissed her forcefully. Shocked - her struggles ceased, then started anew and she pushed him away and spat.

  ‘Barbarian!’

  He smirked. ‘I should take you over my knee for rifling through our saddlebags!’

  She whispered something to him under her breath, then twisted and rolled and ended up on top of him, straddling Korhan and holding his wrists firmly on the ground. ‘Perhaps I should take YOU over my knee, oaf? For being such an ignorant fool, to think you could best an elf!’

  The average man would have been fazed by this, but Korhan was enjoying her feisty nature. He smiled at her, not struggling. ‘I’d like to see you try!’ Her eyes flinched at his response and her grip loosened. He slipped his wrists from her hands and lifted her off, hauling them both to their feet. ‘You have spirit, elf.’

  ‘Humph, as do you... Barbarian!’

  The two stared hard at each other, regaining their breath. Korhan picked an oak leaf out of his hair.

  Saul groaned. ‘Have you pair quite finished? Enough delays, we should be moving. If you wish elf, I shall give you ten gold coins for your assistance. But should you wish to be paid a more handsome reward, perhaps you’d care to join our quest. We are tasked with slaying a Noble Dragon.’ Votrex, Harald, Silus and Brael looked sharply at Saul, who shrugged. ‘She’s clearly strong, fast and is gifted with magical abilities; surely you can see why she might be useful to our group? Besides which, she is willing to risk her life for coin.’

  The elf smirked at this. ‘You? And the so-called “Berger of Trest”? I don’t see any risk there. Going to slay a dragon – Hah! You’re even more fools than you look.’

  Saul sighed, though without much surprise. ‘So you won’t join us, mistress elf?’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t say that. How much are you expecting to get paid for this little task?’

  ‘Two thousand gold coins is the bounty, to be shared amongst my party upon our return to Cormaroth, so long as the Empress’s conditions are met.’

  ‘Two thousand between seven does not divide well. I will join you, but I will take the lion’s share. I will take five hundred gold and you shall all take two hundred and fifty each.’ She grinned at Saul defiantly.

  Votrex glared at Saul. ‘For all we know it might only be a swamp dragon. Are you sure we need her help? Can we even trust her?’

  Korhan climbed onto his horse. ‘I trust her. She’s proven her worth once, and I suspect she will again. Now let us ride, we should avoid the road. Should news get out of our little encounter with the authorities in Trest, we might meet trouble.’

  This seemed to bring finality to the discussion. Saul nodded, satisfied. The elf, still looking amused and aloof, placed one hand on her steed and leapt silently, almost floating through the air into the saddle. The others mounted their horses. Brael selected a healthier specimen of the horses left by the soldiers. After picking up a crossbow, a handful of quarrels, a dagger and short sword, he mounted the steed.

  The sudden expansion of the party unnerved both Votrex and Silus. The presence of an elf had an effect on Brael as well, who would occasionally cast her suspicious glances as they rode along. For Saul’s part he was more interested in how she came to be here. Elves were seldom seen in Torea, as were dark elves. Both were rarer than dwarves and most Toreans wouldn’t meet a single dwarf in their entire lives at this time, unless they had visited the dwarfish quarter in Cormaroth. Harald was fairly indifferent to the presence of the other races – Silus’s descriptions of the battle with the dragon so many years ago had left him with an impression that any assistance was welcome assistance. Korhan was positively pleased the elf had joined their band, he wasn’t thrilled at having Brael tagging along, waiting for the opportunity to ‘fulfil his vow’, but he struggled to take his eyes off the newest addition to the company. She was beautiful, in an almost alien way. She had light blond hair, pale, milky smooth skin, but a sharper, more pointed nose and sharper chin and brow; her pointed ears were at least two inches larger than typical human ears. Her looks weren’t what attracted him though, it was her clear strength and feisty personality, and perhaps her aloofness, her treating them all with such indifference. Her demeanour almost made her seem regal, though by most accounts these qualities were rumoured to be common amongst elves.

  As they rode through the forest, away from the road, Korhan looked at the elf and to Brael and compared their physiques. The relationship was quite obvious and clearly visible; the long pointed ears, chins and noses were a clear indicator they were from the same stock somewhere down the line, yet the red eyes and dark, bluish grey skin of Brael gave him a more sinister appearance.

  After resisting the urge for as long as possible, Korhan snapped his reins and rode up alongside the elf. ‘You didn’t tell us your name.’

  ‘How observant of you Northman. I didn’t.’

  He smirked at her taut response. ‘Might I have the pleasure of it?’

  ‘I don’t believe knowing my name will give you any great pleasure, but you may have it – Vashni. I am called Vashni.’

  He reached an open hand towards her. ‘Korhan.’

  She raised a thin eyebrow at his outstretched hand and snorted. ‘Pleased to meet you “Korhan”. You’ll excuse me if I don’t shake your hand. I neither understand nor wish to partake in the human custom of “hand shaking”.’

  ‘Why did you try to rob us?’

  ‘Why not? You looked like you carried coin, but that none of you were too bright. I thought you might prove easy pickings.’

  If Korhan was insulted by this comment he didn’t show it. ‘Well, w
hy then did you follow the Berger out after us?’

  She shrugged at this. ‘I suppose... I saw you rescue the dark elf. I admired you for it, and I noticed how incompetent you were. I knew the Berger would catch up with you and you would need assistance.’

  Korhan was listening but not hearing her insults. To his surprise, he found himself feeling beguiled by her. She wore a tight, fitted, black leather shirt, and black gloves, with a black suede over-cloak, pinned by a silver brooch. Her trousers were tight-fitting black leather and she wore black suede boots to match her cloak. She seemed perfectly attired for an assassin. She realised his prying eyes were on her and snarled at him. ‘Have you quite finished inspecting me? I suggest you keep your eyes on the path, lest your horse stumble. In fact I suggest you keep your eyes on the path lest I decide to relieve you of them.’

  Korhan immediately faced forwards. ‘I’m sorry lady Vashni, I was but admiring your great beauty, and wondering why you appear to be attired as an assassin.’

  She chuckled at this. ‘Maybe I am an assassin? Perhaps I was hired by the Empress’s enemies to track down your wizard friend and eliminate him, and this is merely a ploy to gain your trust?’

  Korhan laughed. ‘Revealing your plot would not seem the best course of action to escape suspicion.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it?  Straight away, because I told you this is my plan, and you consider it to be such folly to reveal my plan, you discount any possibility the plan is true.’

  Korhan, despite his rough looks was an intelligent man. You didn’t survive numerous battles, enough to earn the reputation sufficient to be hired as a dragon slayer, without having cunning and intelligence. ‘Do you elves always speak in riddles? And if so, why? I believe I am a good judge of character and I don’t believe you have the heart for assassination.’

  ‘I am not speaking in riddles barbarian; I am simply playing with you. You are indeed correct, I am not an assassin. If you must pry into my personal affairs, I will tell you I am a thief and you will be content with that.’

  ‘I cannot be content with that. Why should one so noble as an elf decide to pursue a life as a common thief, when they could be sitting in their ivory towers, studying the structure and form of magic or the physical world, and philosophising on the meaning of being?’

  ‘Hah! You sound like my father, Northman. Sitting and studying is fine for the old and the young. I for one would like to do more with my life than simply hide away, burying myself in books and contemplation.’

  Korhan smiled, he hung on her every word. The more he spoke to her, the more enraptured with her he became. Before their conversation could continue Brael rode up and addressed Korhan. ‘Avil, I would speak with the elf.’

  Korhan glanced at Vashni; she rolled her eyes. ‘Fine. What hath thou to say, gravian?’

  Korhan allowed himself to drop back a little. Brael leaned towards Vashni’s mount. ‘Do you know of power word curses?’

  She nodded. ‘I do.’

  ‘Can you unspeak my curse?’

  ‘Show me.’ Brael rode as close as possible, then pulled his matted black hair clear and showed the living writing that swirled and morphed on the back of his neck as she gazed at it.

  He sensed Vashni’s eyes on the back of his neck; she leaned closer for a better view. Despite peering hard at the symbol, eventually she leaned back in her saddle, and shook her head. ‘I am sorry, I cannot decipher the power word. Though attempting to read it from the saddle is proving something of a challenge. I shall inspect your curse again when we stop, though I doubt the outcome will be any different.’

  Brael allowed his hair to fall back, and threw her a weary smile over his shoulder. ‘Thank you mistress elf. My name is Brael of the house Krazic. Might I know your name?’

  She sighed. ‘Vashni.’

  As the party rode through the woods, dry brown leaves crunched under the horses’ feet. There were still some leaves on the trees, but most had fallen. Saul, Votrex and Silus rode at the head of the group. Votrex kept casting suspicious glances at the elf, muttering to himself about Korhan ‘thinking with his loins’ first, then about Brael and the elf plotting against the group.

  Saul noticed and dropped a hand on his shoulder. ‘You needn’t worry about the elf Votrex.’

  ‘Needn’t I? There’s something about her, something sinister. I’ve never liked elves. The elves cannot be trusted; what is she even doing here? I thought those pointy-eared tricksters had retreated to their own domain, never to leave again.’

  Silus grunted his agreement. ‘She’s bad news. I can’t believe you agreed to her terms!’

  Saul sighed. ‘I had to. None of us are in this for the coin, the coin is merely to cover our expenses.’

  ‘Why in Ishar’s name did you agree for the lion’s share to go to that elf? Should we slay the dragon and she hasn’t earned her share, I shall kill her myself.’

  He was only whispering and Vashni was at the back of the column, but she cracked her reins and trotted up, leaving Brael alone at the rear of the group. ‘My, my dragon slayer. You’re not the most hospitable one are you? I agree to risk my life, which is worth significantly more than your pitifully short span, and all I ask is some coin for my troubles? Your chances of surviving this encounter increased exponentially when I joined your party.’

  Saul turned to her. ‘I know, I’ve heard much about the prowess of the elves with blade and spell. My only real question is what an elf is doing in Torea anyway.’

  Vashni shrugged. ‘Call it boredom... Centuries sitting studying, philosophising, composing music and creating works of art. Tis fun for a while, but a life without risk is not a life, it is an existence. Of course, my father would never agree with me on these matters.’

  ‘Centuries? How old are you?’

  She gave him a wry smile. ‘Well, that would be telling wouldn’t it? I shall tell you my name, “Vashni”, but I will field no further personal questions. It is my blade and my voice your coin is buying, not the right to my personal history, wizard.’

  The seven riders crunched along the pathless floor of the forest. Saul rode at the front of the party; they were headed north towards the Sky-Cleaver Mountains and in this wild part of the Empire, after having upset the Berger of Trest, avoiding the roads seemed sensible. They didn’t stop for food either, each rider simply reaching into their saddlebags for sustenance as they trotted along.

  Despite the obvious friction caused by the composition of the party, the mood felt light. The sky was clear, and though it wasn’t warm, the air was pleasant. The occasional bird could be heard singing in the trees.

  As the afternoon drew on, Saul decided to challenge the dark elf on why he’d been banished.  He slowed his horse to drop back level with Brael of House Krazic. ‘Gravian. You did not tell us why exactly you were banished.’

  Brael eyed him suspiciously. ‘That is an astute observation wizard. I did not.’

  ‘Will you tell me?’

  ‘I don’t believe it is important. Knowing the reason my curse was bestowed upon me, will not help you to lift it.’

  ‘Oh I don’t know. If you were banished and cursed unjustly perhaps I would be more determined to find a way of assisting you.’

  Brael leaned towards him. ‘I can fight, but if I had the capacity to wield magic, I would be a formidable ally. That is all you need to know.’

  Saul rode in silence for a few minutes, deep in contemplation. ‘Brael, wha-’

  ‘I could lie to you, tell you I was framed for a crime I did not commit, or say that the leader of another house simply decided they wanted rid of me, so arranged it. But I will not lie to you. Whether my punishment is just or not, that would be a matter of opinion, though I’ve committed no crime.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘I will tell you this, I revealed the findings of my arcane studies. Findings which... changed things, and which some people did not like. No, that’s not true. Which nobody liked.’

  Saul rode in silence for
a moment, pondering what world changing discovery this rather pathetic looking creature might have made. He could think of none. ‘What did you discover Brael, that tore the underdeep apart?’

  Brael formed a wry smile on lips then fixed his eyes on Saul Karza’s. ‘Simple, I discovered the “truth”, the ultimate truth, and I managed, through magical means, to prove without question, the answer.’

  ‘What “truth”?’

  Brael rode along deep in thought. Eventually, he gave a deep sigh and looked kindly at Saul. ‘Wizard, the truth changes everything. All our notions of death, existence, honour, purpose of being. It is dangerous, the world is not ready for “the truth”.’

  Saul’s curiosity was peaked even further. ‘I am a learned man; I suspect I am capable of handling whatever world changing truth you have to impart. Why don’t you tell me?’

  Brael shrugged. ‘You may be ready, but I doubt it. Even if you were ready, who is to say this wouldn’t spread further? The revealing of the truth to overlanders would cause wars, death, destruction... It would tear this world apart as it has the underdeep. Besides, part of the curse laid upon me prevents me from revealing any part of “the truth”, so alas, even if I deemed you ready and wanted to tell you, I could not.’

  Saul gave in. ‘As you wish gravian, I will press you no further on this matter until such a time has arisen that your curse has been lifted. Perhaps the elf-‘

  ‘I already asked her, she cannot decipher the power word, not while riding anyway. She promised to have another attempt after we have dismounted, though I am not hopeful of her success.’

  Elsewhere in the group, Silus was grumbling to Harald. ‘I wish I’d never joined you on this half-baked and mongrel quest.’

  Harald studied the grizzled veteran for a moment. ‘We are glad you did, I’m sure your-’

  ‘Now we are not just harbouring a dwarf and a gravian in the party, we have an elf too. We’re all as surely doomed as we could possibly be.’

  ‘I doubt that, dragon slayer, the stronger the party, surely the better chance we have of surviving this encounter?’

  Silus scowled at him. ‘Easy for you to say, trusting fool. They’re not human.’

  Harald screwed his face up at this. ‘That may be an asset Silus. The Berger of Trest was a human, and he is neither a person I would aspire to emulate, nor a person I would desire as a comrade.’

  ‘You may say that, but I like to understand what my companions are thinking, at least. Your thick-skulled friend’s rescue appears to have only created trouble for our party. We are no longer welcome in Trest. Once news gets out we might find other towns in this region are hostile to us or worse. Then of course we’ve acquired a back-stabbing gravian in our ranks and an elf to boot. One of the accursed fair folk.’

  ‘Sometimes we must endure hardship if we are to stand up for what we believe is right.’

  Silus smirked. ‘Why is that? Because of some ancient tradition, fear of Ishar’s wrath or the simple hope of reserving a seat in Kirkfell, the banqueting hall of the dead? Ultimately, the elf, loathe as I am to admit it, is the only one here who seems to have her head screwed on. She is a thief and a mercenary; she looks out for herself, without consideration for others. Her attitude is something you must admire in her, clearly; whatever you think about elves, she has worked it out.’

  Harald glared at him. ‘Cynic! No battles would ever be won were all men as bold as you.’

  Silus chuckled softly. ‘Oh that’s rich barbarian, that’s very rich. I may be cynical about many things; experience teaches that. And war, like any other game, may not be worth the glory it is clothed in. If men looked after themselves instead of rushing in to fight, seeking glory, there might be no victories, but also no losses, no unnecessary death. What would be so bad about that? Imagine, would it be so terrible, not to enjoy the surreal experience of picking your way across a battlefield, nursing your wounds and watching the crows peck out the eyes of your fallen comrades, while peasants rifle the dead’s pockets... You truly are a savage if that is a reality you wish to preserve, Harald son of Korvak.’

  The image brought back faded but bitter memories and made Harald wince. He formed a haunted expression on his face. ‘You speak the truth Mendelson, war is not a pleasant endeavour, nay neither is dragon slaying. For all we know any one of us may not return from this battle, but men must stand against tyranny in whatever form it takes, for to stand by and allow the world to change for the worse is to be as lifeless as a rock, a chunk of granite. One day, perhaps all our wars will have been fought; until such time, we fight for what we believe is just.’

  Silus leaned back in his saddle. ‘Perhaps you are right barbarian, maybe we should all throw down our lives for a seat in Kirkfell, at Ishar’s side.’

  The companions rode on through the forest. Luckily the Berger of Trest and his soldiers did not catch up with them. In truth the Berger had been left so confounded by the power words whispered to him by the elf, that Trest was in disarray.  The Berger’s resident mage had been found wandering the wilderness by the retreating soldiers, again baffled and confused, Vashni’s whisper still curled in his ear.

  The sun rose high in the sky, lunchtime passed unnoticed. The companions ate and drank in the saddle and continued to trot along, trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and Trest.

  By the time the sun was starting to set overhead the horses were tired and any attempts at conversation had long run dry, though most of the riders were deep in thought, in many cases about their comrades. Saul was going over possibilities regarding the findings of the dark elf and the origins of the elf. Korhan of course only had thoughts for Vashni, partly thoughts about her mysterious origins and partly thoughts about the possibility of what the future might hold for him regarding her. He found himself desiring her, but at the same time questioning the logic in doing so. Kissing her had felt strange. She had a different scent to a human woman, foreign, almost alien. She was old too, he couldn’t guess how old, but if rumours were true, her appearance as a young adult meant she was probably at least a century old if not many times this. Despite the obvious folly in doing so, Korhan found himself unable to resist.

  In truth most of the party felt thankful for the lull in conversation and the opportunity to reflect on the events of the day. Votrex, was unsettled by the presence of the gravian and the elf. The only real consolation was that the friction within the group took their minds off the dangerous task they had set out to do.

  As the shadows grew longer and the darkness drew in, Saul told the group they should look for a suitable place to camp for the night. After riding a little longer they found a clearing with a small brook running along the edge. The companions dismounted, and unpacked their sleep mats and blankets. They tied up the horses near to the brook so they could drink. Saul and his party gathered some rocks to build a rudimentary fire pit and threw some large chunks of dry wood in to keep wild animals at bay and to provide some warmth. After a few moments of shuffling around, the group’s sleep mats were positioned around the pit and Saul lay down his staff and lit the small fire with a simple spell.

  Brael was the only one not to carry a sleep mat or blanket, so he offered to take the first watch. Votrex and Silus fell asleep last, eyeing Brael with suspicion for a while after the others had drifted off. Before them, the last sleeper was Korhan, who found himself fascinated, studying the features of the sleeping elf. Her skin was milky and unblemished. His eyes tracked the shape of her visible ear, rising through the folds of her straw-like hair to a sharp point. Every contour, her nose, her chin, her jaw – was finer than those of any woman he’d ever seen. As the sound of heavy breathing and snoring came to dominate the clearing Brael sat by the fire and began to whittle small sticks into sharp wooden darts, using the small dagger one of the soldiers had dropped. After whittling then carefully inspecting each one, he would deposit it in his rough-spun hessian tunic.

  Chapter 5

 

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