The Hero of Legend

by Demethius Jackson

  “Come on!” he shouted to Maebus, wrapping his friend’s arm around his own neck. Together, they began running away from the Annal.

  From the upper window, he heard Thane’s gruff voice, “After them!”

  Kelm glanced backwards and saw several Legionaries leap from the window. “They’re coming for us,” Kelm exclaimed, shouldering Maebus’ arm, supporting him as they ran.

  “We’re going that way!” Kelm said to Maebus, pointing toward the nearby woods.

  “But the Pumice Path is in the opposite direction,” Maebus protested.

  “There are probably more Legionaries patrolling it now. We’d do better in the woods,” Kelm advised.

  “There they are!” The yell sounded close behind them. “Get ‘em!”

  Ahead several yards, Kelm was astonished to see a crowd of locals running toward them. He estimated a mob of at least thirty people. Dressed raggedly, carrying shovels, torches, and pitchforks, he could see the anger in their faces as they sloshed forward, thirsty for their blood.

  “This can’t be happening!” Maebus exclaimed.

  “This town must be filled with Damian Supporters,” Kelm rationed as they sloshed from their pursuers.

  Kelm and Maebus were outnumbered. They desperately maneuvered their way around the collection of buildings. The mud slowed their progress, making each step more difficult than the last. The sound of galloping horses roared behind them. Kelm turned to see General Thane thundering in their direction. Because his hands were being used to help Maebus walk, Kelm was unable to defend them. Kelm became anxious.

  “Come on Maebus!” he yelled, stealing another quick look over his shoulder.

  “I’m trying, Kelm!” Maebus’ voice was strained with pain and exertion.

  “Hop, man! Get to the woods! He’s gaining on us.”

  Maebus sprang forward on one foot. As the edge of the woods came within reach, the angry mob stormed behind, closing the distance between them.

  Maebus and Kelm stumbled their way through the first line of trees, frantically searching for an escape route. But the darkness of night prevented them from seeing too far ahead. Racing through shrubbery, their path was unexpectedly blocked by a towering figure.

  “Halt!” the figure shouted in a deep, male voice.

  But it was too late for Kelm and Maebus to stop their momentum, and they crashed into him. Quicker than either could react, the figure grabbed them both.

  “I’ve got you!” he said.

  “Let us go,” Kelm demanded angrily.

  But the man stood over seven feet tall and was exceptionally strong. He began sprinting away with Maebus tucked under one long arm and Kelm under the other. They struggled against their captor, but to no avail. The man moved past trees and bushes as though he knew the placement of everything surrounding him. Eventually, the sound of their pursuers slowly trailed off into the distance.

  Leaping down the edge of a low cliff, the man landed hard upon the collection of leaves below. Kelm and Maebus were then released from his grip.

  “Shhhhhh!” he whispered to them with a finger over his lips. He pressed his back flat against a large natural crevice. Kelm and Maebus stood completely still as they listened carefully to the sound of approaching voices. Together, the three waited, concealed beneath the ledge of rock as they overheard their pursuers pass by. It took several minutes for the voices to fade away once again.

  The man peeked his head above the cliff and carefully scanned the road to verify that the coast was clear.

  “Come on. I’ll lead you to safety,” he said.

  “We’re not going anywhere with you!” Kelm exclaimed.

  Instantly, the towering man shifted his body to face them. He arched his back to be somewhat at eye-level with Kelm, who reflexively stepped back.

  “Look,” the man began, “I didn’t save you only to turn you in.” After a silent moment, he nodded, gesturing for Kelm and Maebus to follow him.

  Maebus glanced sidelong at Kelm. “Do you have a better plan?”

  “Nope,” Kelm shrugged.

  “Neither do I. Lead the way, sir,” Maebus said.

  Together, the three moved stealthily through the woods. Kelm was a bit unnerved by the man’s unusual height. He seemed almost as tall as a tree. The man whispered that sound traveled farther at night. Therefore, they needed to move carefully, so as not to create ripples through the forest that could potentially expose their location to their pursuers.

  For hours, they trekked through the darkened, mountain woods. Every several meters, the man would double back and sweep leaves across their footprints to cover their tracks. After traveling a great distance away from the town, the man finally came to a stop.

  “I think we'll be safe here,” he said, plopping down upon the dirt.

  Maebus took a seat also to rest his leg. Kelm listened to the sounds of the distant crickets. From the thick trees, he gazed upon the moon and the stars shining above them, which provided their only means of light.

  Under the cover of several large trees, the man curled up for the night. “I suggest you boys get comfortable, try to get some rest,” he said, settling his head onto his bent elbow. “We’re going to be here until morning.”

  “Who are you?” Kelm asked.

  “Right now, I’m your best friend,” the man replied. “Better get some rest now because tomorrow … you two are on your own.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Gone. Without a trace. General Thane squeezed the reins of his horse, unsure whether he was more angry or impressed with King Maebus’ daring escape. Needing a moment to collect himself, he deviated from the search party that consisted of his men and the local townspeople. Wandering further into the woods, the trees began looking like monsters grasping for him under the moonlight. The chase had been over for about two hours, but his body still thrummed with adrenaline. Having Maebus in his sights, nearly in his clutches, was excruciatingly dissatisfying. Someone had helped them—someone whose tracking skills were equal to his own. But who?

  “General.” The voice came from behind.

  Thane pulled his horse around and acknowledged the soldier standing there with a nod of his head.

  “Sir, we’ve searched every inch of the woods for at least a five-mile radius. We’ve found no trace of the Realmsic King nor his Advisor.”

  “Expand your search,” the General replied.

  The solider raised an eyebrow.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Thane said. “It’s not likely that Maebus would have traveled beyond five miles already.”

  The Legionarie nodded.

  “I, too, agree with that assessment,” Thane continued. “But I dare not tell the Warlord that we searched only five miles for the man who is the linchpin of his conquest.”

  The Legionarie saluted. “I’ll inform our men to expand their search,” he said.

  “You do that,” Thane responded, returning the soldier’s salute.

  He watched as the Legionarie walked away and eventually disappeared into the wooded darkness. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for what was going to be a long and fruitless night.

  Hours passed, and the search for Maebus yielded no results. It was as Thane expected. Hoping to resume the search in the morning, he and his Legionaries returned to town. Thane rationalized that it would be easier to track Maebus by the light of day. Riding back into town, the General noticed for the first time just how dilapidated the place really was. Tying their horses to a dried-out trough, he and his comrades sloshed through the streets in search of accommodations for the night. In every direction, the buildings were either structurally unstable or condemned.

  “There.” He pointed to a shabby structure on the right where a candle burned in the window. If someone was currently living in that broken collection of wood planks, then surely it was suitable enough for them.

  Thane banged on the door. Boom, boom, boom. The force of his fist practically broke it down. A tired looking, elde
rly man answered the door.

  “Y-yes?” the man asked in a weak voice.

  “Sir, the Warlord’s Legion is in need of your domicile.” Thane shoved the elderly man aside.

  He walked into the main room. The place was pitiful. One quick glance at the abhorrent living conditions made Thane’s eyes water slightly. He felt pain in his heart for so many of the Realmsic citizens who had to live this way. Surely Damian’s cause, regardless of its extremity, was just. Not wanting to take what little the elderly man already had, Thane adjusted his attitude and spoke in a less harsh tone.

  “Sir,” he began. “My name is Thane. I’m a General in the Legion of Warriors, led by the Warlord Damian. My men and I were pursuing fugitives from this area, and we now need a place to stay, only for the night. If you would be so kind as to accommodate us, we will compensate your hospitality. But if you are unable to oblige, then we will look for another place to stay.”

  The man stretched out his weak, shaky hands to welcome them. “I would be honored for you to stay here,” he said with a big smile. “I don’t have much, but all of it is yours, for as long as you need.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Thane said.

  “No, thank you!” the man replied. “Magic has ruined our lives. Many of us Laymen have lived here in fear for decades, with nowhere to escape. The Warlord brings us hope we haven’t felt before.”

  Thane reached into his pocket and pulled out his leather purse. He drew out several gold coins and handed them to the man. It was enough to buy at least three months of food.

  “For your troubles,” he said, placing a gentle hand on the man’s back. He then slowly led him out of the structure.

  “You three,” he said to his Legionaries. “Keep watch. Rotate shifts until first light.”

  “Aye, sir!” they saluted before following the elderly man outside.

  “Shut the door behind you,” Thane ordered.

  After the last man exited, Thane inspected the room, assuring himself that he was indeed alone. Sitting down on a stack of straw that was used as a chair, he suddenly remembered that he needed to speak with Damian. His stomach briefly fluttered, as he had no good news to report.

  Might as well get it over with.

  Thane removed the mobile device from his travel pouch and noticed a small crack that now stretched along the mirror’s surface. He looked at his distorted reflection. His beard was tangled and dirty, and eyes looked tired from travel.

  “Failure is not an option,” he remembered the Warlord saying. Thane sighed.

  “My Lordship, can you hear me?” he spoke into the mobile device. It usually took a few minutes for Damian to respond.

  “My Lordship, can you…”

  “Yes, General,” Damian’s ghostly face appeared within the mirror. “What do you have to report?”

  “I found King Maebus…”

  “And?” Damian asked using a pitch much higher than his regular voice.

  “He escaped.” Thane waited for a response, some kind of display of Damian’s displeasure, but none came. Therefore, he continued.

  “As you had suggested earlier, we rode to the Pumice Path. We tracked Maebus to a small mountain town and pursued him and his Advisor into the surrounding woods. But they eluded us.” Thane maintained eye contact as he deliberately spoke in clear even-toned voice. He needed to convey absolute confidence to Damian, otherwise the Warlord may assume failure.

  “We’ve searched a wide perimeter throughout the night but found nothing. We are currently staying in the town but, at first light, we will resume tracking Maebus toward the northeast where he fled. It shouldn’t take long for us to…”

  “Don’t waste your time,” Damian interrupted.

  Thane paused.

  Damian’s eyes were piercingly focused. “Go to the Ancient Land,” the Warlord ordered.

  The logic of Damian’s command escaped Thane. “I don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head.

  “You just told me that King Maebus and Grand Wizard Kelm fled northeast from a town near the Pumice Path, correct?”

  “Yes,” Thane confirmed, stretching the word as he tried to follow Damian’s thoughts.

  “There is nothing of significance in that direction … other than the Ancient Lands,” Damian explained.

  “But that region is unpopulated,” Thane retorted.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, General. The Ancient Land is the secret home of the sacred Archival Order. For millennia, its Archivists Wizards have spread knowledge to the Realm and preserved a living record of our history. In regards to their duty, it’s not a wonder that they would be centralized in the heart of where our world began. Maebus is seeking the order’s guidance. He will use that knowledge to fight against us!”

  “I see,” Thane said. His face remained expressionless, though he felt another surge of adrenaline rush through his tired, aching body.

  “Go to the Ancient Land and wait. The Realmsic King will come to you.”

  With that, the mobile call ended. Once again, the Warlord’s face was replaced with Thane’s own reflection. He stroked his tangled beard as he paced a few slow steps within the room. Damian was indeed brilliant. Thane would have never thought about the Ancient Lands. It made perfect sense. “They’re trying to fight fire with fire,” Thane mused. “Yes, fight back, my prey. I love a challenge!”

  He placed the mobile device back into his pouch and stormed from the hovel. His men snapped to attention.

  “I know where Maebus is going,” he said. He gestured to the farthest Legionarie. “Get our horses, bring them here. Come, you lugs, no sleep for us tonight.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The chase still felt like a dream when Kelm awoke the next morning. The air was frigid in the mountainous woods, and the ground had been most uncomfortable. Kelm massaged the crick in his neck as awareness slowly came to him. He glanced at Maebus and saw that he, too, had just awoken and was now rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. Across from them, the tall man had already prepared a breakfast consisting of berries and wild game he’d caught nearby.

  “Morning,” Kelm said to the man.

  “Morning,” the man replied. His voice was less harsh and deep than the previous night.

  Kelm was awestruck by the man’s height. He was perhaps the tallest person he’d ever seen. A large laceration stretched across the man’s face. Sitting awkwardly on a rock, he tended a small fire where he cooked the meat. The sensuous aroma of food seemed to snap Maebus to alertness. He stretched his legs forward and began massaging feeling back into them.

  “How are you feeling today?” Kelm asked his friend.

  “I’ve been better,” Maebus replied.

  Kelm gave a sideways smirk. “I … suppose I should apologize for pushing you out of the window.”

  “No need. I’m sure you did what you felt was best.” Maebus withheld a chuckle as he spoke.

  “You should probably thank me then.”

  “Actually, I should thank you, sir,” Maebus said, directing his attention to the man at the fire. The man shrugged his shoulders.

  “I only did my duty for the kingdom,” he said.

  “Oh, are you a Realmsic soldier?” Maebus asked.

  “No, but I remain faithful to its King.”

  Kelm’s gaze fixed on the man. Was that just a general comment? He then glanced towards Maebus who didn’t appear to have a reaction.

  “I’m sure the King would be honored to have your loyalty,” Maebus said. He paced his words, obviously taking care not to give away too much.

  “I’m glad you think so. If you were the King … it would mean a lot.” The man flashed a mischievous smile and winked.

  Kelm laughed out loud. Maebus couldn’t help but join him. “What’s your name?” Maebus asked.

  “My name is Normandy.” He bowed his head slightly. “As you slept, I noticed your royal Realmsic armor under your muddy robes.”

  Maebus shook his hand. “Greetings. I
suppose you already know my name is…”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Normandy interrupted before Maebus could finish. He stood up, thin and towering, and shook Kelm’s hand also.

  “Please, help yourselves,” he pointed to the food. “There’s more than enough to go around.”

  Kelm was impressed with the quantity, knowing personally just how hard it was to hunt in the northern region of the Realm.

  “Are you from around here?” Kelm asked.

  “Not originally, but lately I’ve meandered in these parts.”

  That explains his cordiality, Kelm thought. Most Northerners despised the kingdom and would have never helped them escape.

  Normandy reached over the fire and tore off a piece of meat from the spit.

  “For years, I’ve been a simple woodsman,” he said between chews. “But nowadays, I consider myself a bit of a rebel.”

  “How so?” Maebus asked. He reached over and grabbed a piece of meat, the first he’d eaten in weeks.

  Normandy’s brow tightened and his gaze seemed to focus on something in the distance. His expression turned solemn. “Until recently, my family and I lived in the neutral city of Feesa,” he said.

  Both Kelm and Maebus were very familiar with the city, particularly the tragedy it had become. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” Maebus said. He lowered his gaze towards the fire. “And you’ve lived out here in the Northern Lands ever since?”

  Normandy rubbed his eyes. “I was preparing to rest for the night when I heard the commotion coming from the town. I spotted you from the woods. I knew exactly who you were … enemies of the Warlord,” he took another bite of meat before continuing.

  “I, too, am his enemy. For what he did to my home, to my people, to my family, I would watch him die a thousand times. For all eternity, I would make him feel the piercing grief he has caused me.” Normandy’s voice shook as he tightly wrung his hands together as if soothing them from pain.

  Kelm understood that with the fall of Feesa having not been that long ago, the pain was still very fresh in Normandy’s heart. To speak of it must have been to relive every agonizing moment of it.