Eligium- The Complete Series

by Jake Allen Coleman

  First, she had to get out of the city. All that time spent getting here and in less than a day she found herself back on the run following a thief in the hopes he could get her out of the city. She trusted Master Jowan and that trust was the only reason she was willing to follow this Willem.

  Halfway to the next street, Willem paused and turned back to wink at her. She pulled up, ready to give him a piece of her mind. Before she could say a word, he slipped into a crack between the two buildings. Krystelle gaped. She would never have seen the opening had Willem not shown her the way.

  She squeezed into the crack between the buildings to follow Willem, wondering how long they had until the Krenon came after her. Within moments, they emerged into the street on the far side of the building. Putting his fingers between his teeth, Willem let out a shrill whistle and a small horde of street kids came running.

  One, a young girl of no more than ten years came bounding up to Willem, "What's the word?"

  He grinned and mussed her hair, "We run!" Her face lit up like it was Feastday morning and Willem turned back to Krystelle, "Are you ready?" She nodded and before she knew it, Willem and the street kids started running. Taking a deep breath, Krystelle set off after them.

  The gang ran up the roadway at a steady pace, turning away from the Flask at the first opportunity. From there, the pack moved as one through the city turning left and right seemingly at random. Krystelle soon lost track of the turns, focusing on running and keeping up with the street kids.

  Rounding a corner, they careened into a contingent of mercenaries with their Krenon masters. The street kids scattered in a hundred directions and Willem grabbed Krystelle's arm, pulling her along with him down a side street.

  As they ran down the alley, Krystelle risked a glance back and locked eyes for the briefest of moments with the Krenon. She saw his eyes narrow with recognition and he shouted for the mercenaries to give chase.

  Cursing, Krystelle shouted to Willem, "They are after us!"

  The boy nodded and dodged down another passageway with Krystelle tight on his heels. Taking three more turns, he slowed his pace and allowed her to draw even with him. They were alone now with the rest of the kids having peeled off to create confusion until the two of them escaped the city.

  Grinning, he cocked his head at the woman, "Out of breath yet?" He was not even breathing heavy. Krystelle panted from the exertion. Too much time in the palace eating rich foods had taken away her edge.

  "Do not worry about me," she said. "How far to the city edge."

  "Almost there. Look, you know the ruined castle outside of town?" She nodded, it was impossible to miss. "If we get separated, make your way there." Coming up to the last corner, he slowed to a stop. Holding up a hand for Krystelle to stop and wait, he peeked around the building. He quickly pulled his head back.

  "What did you see?"

  "There are five of those mercenaries guarding our gate, along with two of the city watch. I could get us past the watch, but those others are a different story. Very few people even know about this gate. They must have a lot of people looking for you."

  "Five mercenaries you said?" He nodded. "How are they armed?"

  "Normal swords and leather vests. They mostly look like toughs, not real soldiers."

  Krystelle wondered how this boy would know what a real soldier looked like. His description gave her hope. With surprise, and a little bit of luck, she should be able to get them past five poorly trained mercenaries. Having seen the quality of the city watch at the main gates, she discounted them altogether.

  "Ok, here is what we are going to do." She outlined her plan to the boy. All she need him to do was stay focused and get that gate open. She would do the rest.

  Minutes later they emerged from cover into the alley leading to their gate carrying an old chest they had salvaged from one of the burnt out buildings. As they neared the small gate, one of the watch called out. "Ere now. Whatcha think yer doing there?"

  Krystelle responded, pitching voice a bit lower than normal, "Just taking this to our da." They kept moving, every step bringing them closer to the guards.

  "Well now, you jus turn back the other way. Ain't no one leavin' the city today."

  "Aw...come on now. Our da will have our necks if we do not bring this to him." They were almost there. She caught Willem's eye and raised one eyebrow to let him know to get ready.

  Two more steps and the two of them swung the chest high, letting it fly into three of the mercenaries clustered together. Willem rushed to the gate while Krystelle turned to the last two mercenaries, Gabirel's Sword in hand.

  Holding the fabled blade, Krystelle could feel the confidence flowing through her. She charged the two mercenaries with the blade high, cutting the first one down before he knew what was happening. The second got his sword up just in time to deflect her blade.

  In full attack mode, Krystelle dispatched him with little effort. These mercenaries were no match for a sword-master, especially caught off-guard and not suspecting the skill of their foe. Seeing two of the mercenaries fallen and bleeding, the watchmen fled the scene. With any luck Krystelle and Willem would be long gone before they returned with help.

  That left the three remaining mercenaries. Only seconds had passed in the first attack and she could hear Willem working on the door behind her. Positioning herself between the boy and the swordsmen, she took up a defensive posture suited to holding off three at once.

  As she expected, they spread out to put some distance between each other and give them room to swing their swords. Charging forward, she would take advantage of their instinct to separate. She had trained and drilled for just such a situation as this and flowed easily between the two mercenaries on her right, striking a glancing blow on one as she passed. She heard him grunt in pain. It would be enough to keep him out of the fight.

  Two on one. Her odds were getting better.

  They had learned their lesson, moving closer together to provide mutual support. She danced around them, testing their defenses. Willem was waving her forward, halfway through the now-open gate.

  Power surged through her and she lunged in close to finish the fight. The hilt grew warm in her hand and it was almost as if the sword had a life of its own, guiding her hand as she fought. In a flurry of bladework, she disarmed the second mercenary and disabled him with a hilt to the jaw. One second later her blade sliced through the last man's neck, sending blood spraying across the wall. He fell, blood still pumping from the wound.

  Without a second glance, Krystelle joined Willem at the gate. He stared at her with wide eyes and she pushed him the rest of the way through, pulling it closed behind her.

  #

  Outside the gate, Krystelle found herself in a narrow grotto overgrown with brush. A well-worn path led away from the gate in the direction of the keep overlooking the town. Dragging Willem along with her, she started off down the path. She got two steps before Willem's dead weight forced her to stop.

  She turned to the boy and found him staring at her, eyes wide, all of his bravado drained away. Not used to death, the boy was in shock from what he had just seen. With only a matter of time until the two watchmen brought reinforcements, she did not have time to coddle him. They had to get to the ruin and out of sight.

  Nothing else for it, she decided, pulling back her arm and giving the boy a full handed slap across the face. The sound echoed off the nearby city wall and Willem started, stepping back away from her.

  "We have to go!" she hissed.

  Blinking twice, he looked around them and a realization of gravity of their situation crawled across his face. He took one more haunted look back at the gate and set his shoulders back, "Right. Follow me." He set off down the pathway at a determined clip. Behind them, Krystelle heard the ringing of alarm bells within the city. The sound caused both of them to pick up their pace to a jog.

  Krystelle felt her body lagging as adrenaline from the fight drained away. She did not have another battle in her and
she knew she would be lucky to reach the relative safety of the ruined keep.

  Still, she pressed on, putting one foot in front of the other. Her muscles groaned, complaining about the pain and the distance to the castle seemed to grow before her eyes. Ignoring the ache, she focused on the ground in front of her and taking the next step. The temptation to look up to gauge their progress--or glance behind for any sign of pursuit-- was strong, but she resisted.

  Climbing the side of the bluff, she knew that meant they were close, but still refused to change her focus. Step after step they climbed until she found herself on the flat.

  "Come on," shouted Willem. "We're almost there."

  Breaking into a run, she lifted her eye-gaze. They were less than a hundred yards from the keep walls. She could do that. There were still no sounds of pursuit, although the alarm bells continue to ring from the heart of the city. Risking a quick look back, she saw their gate remained shut. It would not last, but they were close enough to safety to have a chance for escape.

  At last they reached the wall of the old ruin and she could see the outline of a sally port ahead of her. Veering toward it, Willem broke into a sprint and Krystelle followed suit. As they approached, the door swung open and the two of them rushed inside, the door slamming shut behind them.

  It was dark inside the antechamber and Krystelle's eyes took a few moments to adjust. The shuffling of feet told her there were several people in the room with them, five at least in addition to she and Willem. Who were these people? So willing to defy the Krenon, but obviously friends of Jowan, whom she knew to be an honest man. On the road to Aldmoor she worried over bringing the innkeeper into all this, but felt her choices were limited. Strange the Krenon found her again so easily, as if they knew she would come to Aldmoor.

  It was a mystery she would not solve easily. Putting the question out of her mind, she focused her attention on her erstwhile allies. Someone must lead this band of thieves and she suspected she would be meeting that person soon.

  "This her?" came a gruff voice from the darkness.

  Willem answered from her right, "It is."

  "Well and good then. He's waiting for her through the bailey. You brought her so she's your responsibility."

  A door opened on the far side of the chamber, allowing a bit of light to seep through. Krystelle got her first look at the crew surrounding her. Three young street toughs carrying cudgels eyed her suspiciously. Boys younger than Willem, with scars decorating their faces speaking of a rough life. A girl of no more than ten years crouched alongside them, long stringy black hair framing her dirty face. Krystelle wondered how one so young ended up here in a den of thieves. In comparison, the last was almost an old man. With a graying beard and easy manner, he reminded Krystelle of one of the grizzled veterans she had known growing up at the Dazhberg.

  Willem set off, leading her across the inner courtyard. A simple square in footprint, this old keep would have guarded over Aldmoor during the Dragon Wars. Fallen into disrepair in the years since, the bailey was a grim place. Moss and ivy climbed the dark walls, hastening the rate of decay. Piles of rusted armor lay scattered here and there, a testament to the speed at which armies had disbanded after Sterling Lex's defeat in the Wars. It made Krystelle sad to think the Dazhberg could one day meet a similar fate.

  Passing through a door on the far side, they entered a large chamber outfitted as a dining hall. Five rough-hewn tables clustered around a fireplace at the far end. Except for a pair of men huddled over a map, the room was empty. One of them had to be the leader of this little band and she steeled herself to her purpose. She needed these men to help her get the Sword back to the High Council at the Dazhberg so she could be off to find the journal, but she did not yet know how much she could tell them. Too much information and they might decide to betray her to the Krenon. Not enough and she could lose their help entirely.

  Squaring her shoulders, she strode toward the two men, Willem now following her. Stopping just short of their table, she cleared her throat to announce her presence. Willem opened his mouth to speak and she shook her head to stop him. She needed to take a measure of control here. One of the men waved a hand dismissively without turning around and the two continued their whispered conversation.

  Krystelle raised an eyebrow, the only outward sign of the growing frustration she felt inside. With only a matter of time before the Krenon realized where she had gone, they needed to move. "Look here..." she began before the man interrupted her.

  "Wait," came the commanding voice, irritating her further. Strangely, the voice sounded familiar somehow. Had she met this man before?

  Minutes ticked past as the two men finished their conference. "Good," said the one who had addressed her before, rolling up the map and handing it to his companion. "Get it ready." The other man took the map and strode from the room. The one she assumed was their leader turned toward her, looking her up and down. She blinked twice, not believing what she was seeing.

  "Now, what have we here?" he asked. That voice. It was him. What were the odds? Years before while carrying Gabirel's Sword to Naevean for the presentation to a newly crowned King Ercanbald she found herself on the run from the dark wizard, Gerlach Pwyll. Wandering lost in the forest she encountered a band of smugglers who aided in her escape. The man standing before her had been their leader. When she saw him last, Gerlach Pwyll had been preparing to torture the man to find her. All these years she assumed he died that night, yet here he was.

  She'd never forgotten the name. "Jeffry Cavan," she whispered.

  It was his turn to be surprised, "Do we know each other?"

  "Give it a moment, I am sure it will come back to you."

  #

  "I'm not in the habit of forgetting a beautiful woman," he said. "However, I must confess your name escapes me." She blushed and was glad of the dim lighting. She did not feel beautiful after so many days on the road. It was not a word she generally applied to herself, but it sounded good coming from this man. Of everyone who could have been waiting for her in the ruin outside of Aldmoor, he was the last person she expected to see.

  "I owe you an apology, and a debt of gratitude from our last encounter," she said. "It was in the woods outside of Cuillen some years ago."

  His eyes widened. "You're her...Karla. Karla Menro?" She nodded, pleased he remembered the name she gave him. "I never discovered what all that was about and why Gerlach Pwyll chased you." She detected a sharpness in his voice at the name Gerlach. "He kept going on about a sword and demanding to know where you had gone. Thought we knew more than we did, the worse for us. Now you appear on my doorstep again, this time with the Krenon after you." His face hardened. "Who are you really Karla, and what is this all about?"

  She glanced sideways at Willem, and Jeffry caught her intent. Waving the boy out, he poured two mugs from a pitcher sitting on the table and settled onto the bench, pushing one of the mugs toward her. Following suit, she took a large draught of the ale, sighing as it quenched her parched throat. "I appreciate the gesture but we have no time for a story. The Krenon will discover where I have gone soon enough."

  The hardness was gone and he smiled that infuriating grin, "We have more time than you might think. I pay the city watch well to steer clear of these ruins. They will direct the Krenon elsewhere, for a while at least."

  "And after that?"

  "After that...well, this is a fortress after all," he swept an arm around, gesturing toward the walls. "I've made some improvements and the defenses are stronger than they look. I don't need the full story, just the broad strokes."

  "Broad strokes. Alright, I can give you that, but then we must be on our way." She took another sip of her ale, gathering her thoughts. "The Sword I carried then is the same one I have here now. It is Gabirel's Sword.” His eyes widened. “I can see you have heard of it?" He nodded for her to continue. "I was on my way to deliver the Sword to the late King when Gerlach Pwyll ambushed my party." She trailed off, uncertain how much to reveal o
f the current dilemma.

  "That explains our last encounter, at least in part. There are a few major holes in that story that I’m sure we’ll come to in time. What I want to know is why you are here with it now? And why are the Krenon chasing you?"

  Krystelle took a deep breath, "Some days past the Krenon staged a coup in the palace at Naevean with the help of a collaborator, the late King's finance. During the confusion, I escaped with the Sword and am trying to get it to the Dazhberg and find help." Best not to mention her larger purpose.

  "Tanjia always was an ambitious bitch but I would not have thought she would turn traitor."

  Taken aback, Krystelle set her mug down in surprise. "You know her?"

  He winked, "Only by reputation, and that is quite enough for me. Now, who are you really to have had access to that Sword inside the palace? Don't bother trying to tell me you're some servant girl. You are too refined for that. Besides, I've seen you fight."

  She wracked her brain for a lie that would suffice to satisfy his curiosity. He must have seen it on her face because he lifted a finger to stop her when she opened her mouth. "The truth," he warned.

  She bristled at that finger, "Why should I trust you? I am certain Jeffry Cavan is not your name any more than Karla Menro is mine."

  "Touche, my dear, touche. The difference is that I do not need your help, but you need mine just as you did in Cuillen."

  "The knowledge will only put you in more danger."

  He laughed, "But I am a man of danger! The truth or I'll have Willem show you the door right now. We'll see how well you fare against those Krenon." He leaned in, "You need us."

  He was right, damn him. "Fine, the truth." She crossed her arms and settled back, "My name is Krystelle and I am a Sword-master of Gabirel."

  He whistled through his teeth, "That's not all you are, is it? You are Krystelle Mora, also the daughter of Queen Camryn, aren't you?" So much for the hope he would not recognize her name. Who was this smuggler who had his finger on the pulse of the kingdom? She nodded and he clapped his hands, "I knew it!"