Spirit Sword

by Sam Ford

  "But we are so hungry!" The little ones stared off at the multitude of peasants and refugees gathered around the city wall and along the river. "Let us eat just a few."

  "No. No killing. I don't want any attention drawn to us." Galway went back to poking the fire.

  The two smaller phantoms vanished without a word, fading into nothingness. Malicent bowed deeply and backed into darkness. "As you command, Ranger Galway."

  We will not be your playthings forever, Malicent had said. Galway knew this was not a zero-sum game. The line could not hold. It was only a matter of how long he could make this last. Ares was clearly mad out of his enfeebled mind, but even he knew the dangers facing them. Otherwise, he would not have granted Galway some measure of control. There was a bigger game at play here and someone was moving pieces, someone Galway could not see. He needed to figure it out before the next move happened and he was removed from play entirely. There was a mystery to be solved here and he needed to puzzle it out.

  And quickly.

  Galway closed his eyes, relying on his years of Ranger training to follow the logical progression of events. The sword was the catalyst--that much was clear. He had been summoned to find it at King Ares' behest. The king needed the sword for some measure of protection. And the Phantoms were obviously the whispers in the dark to which he kept referring.

  So the Phantoms wanted the sword as well. But why? Ares wanted the sword for a sacrifice. The Phantoms wanted the boy dead. What did Galway want?

  Legends of magical swords had existed for centuries. They were nothing new. Nubia held them in reverence, at least until a few years ago. Galway had seen that for himself. But in Ras Shamara, they took on a darker, more sinister twist. Tales of Red Witches, Imperial Knights and their blood sacrifices. Legends of being driven mad with power and ruling with an iron fist, of laying waste to entire lands, of communion with vampiric swords which shortened one's life. Vast, secretive religions, raising armies in service to an unknown god. A cult no one understood save for those who joined. An empire of sin stretching as vast as the whole world.

  There were other rumors, as well, spoken now in more hushed tones. Knights of valiant heart and honorable to a fault, men and women sacrificing all for those weaker than themselves. Tales swirled around them, the homeless wayfarers, speaking for those who could not speak for themselves, standing in the gap. Long before Rangers roamed these lands, lone Knights and their mystical Spirit Swords wandered--protecting, serving and asking nothing in return.

  As with the Rangers though, Galway expected the truth lay somewhere in the middle. And without a living Imperial Knight and no written record, there was no way to ascertain the exact truth.

  And maybe that's how someone wanted it?

  Galway watched where Malicent had vanished. He was no fool; those Phantoms were lurking around, listening to his every word. But his thoughts were safe, at least for now. Malicent was cleverer than the other two, but he did not espouse leadership. There was someone else, another player in this game, moving Ares' piece, and by proxy, Galway's. Someone who wished to ensure the Imperial Knights would never return, not even for questions. Galway would need to investigate further, biding his time while being sure to prove himself useful.

  This left the boy.

  The Phantoms would kill him and take back the sword. They had not yet figured out the girl, however. It was unsettling. He’d been sent to retrieve one sword and now there were two.

  What next--four? Eight? They were multiplying, a thought that was none too comforting. If the Red Witches were to return, would they bring more destruction upon Galway's world? Should he hand the girl over and stamp out this threat before it began, or linger and see what happened next? He had seen the way the Phantoms looked at humans, with avarice and gluttony in their hearts. He shuddered to imagine such a fate, being turned over to their basest desires.

  Galway rose, needing time to think. He left his horse, walking toward the city. The night was once more heavy and filled with fog, the moon and stars obscured behind passing clouds. The lesser men in the camps took this as free rein, and sounds of anguish filled the air, personal lives destroyed by the actions of a few. Galway walked past them. He couldn't get involved. Not right now.

  What distance lay between the actions of Phantoms and the hearts of men? Did the desire make the evil, or just the deed? At least in one sense, Phantoms were honest. They didn't lie to themselves about what they were.

  What was the life of a single child worth? Or two children--a boy and a girl? Why were they any more important than the throng crushing against the walls? The stew pots tonight were full of children who had not survived the day, and more would fall to sickness and rape and sword. Why Galway was overly fixated on these two children more than others, he did not know. Had he not pledged to protect all of Ras Shamara?

  Slipping past the city guards was not a problem. Between the crowds, the fog and his Ranger training, it was a simple matter. Inside the city was much as Galway remembered. Though it had been a few years, Uruk was still loud and noisy and smelly. The stink of horses and men filled his nose, while the din of the city assailed his ears. People ran about, angry and screaming at one another. An argument broke out just past the guardhouse, a porter and merchant screaming and cursing at one another. The fallout of a knife fight lingered by the river. The night was hot and the darkness invited vice by immoral and remorseless men.

  About the only positive thing it possessed was running water from aquifers, ensuring fresh, clean water. At least the people of the capital would not grow diseased drinking from the Tsarogota that flowed through the city.

  "Where are you going?" Malicent appeared in a shadow.

  Galway kept walking, not wanting to draw attention to himself. "To the Ranger garrison. They may have already found the boy."

  "My, my. Wouldn't that make your job most convenient?"

  "Do you have a better idea?"

  "Of course not, Ranger Galway. We follow your orders, after all." Malicent smiled that too-wide smile with a jaw full of teeth and evil in his eyes. "I simply thought if they are somewhere in the city, why not let our companions off their leashes?"

  The other two Phantoms appeared in the shadows, as well, hanging from the eves of nearby houses by their talons. "Why yes. We can be most formidable."

  "Most formidable, indeed, brother," the second one laughed.

  "I'm going to check in with the Rangers." Galway nodded, and then paused. "Give me three hours and then sniff him out."

  "His flesh should be most delicious."

  "Indeed! I have not tasted Sword Bearer in millennia."

  "No!" Galway pointed. "No killing. Just find him, and then scare him into the open. You lure him out, we will spring the trap. The Rangers and I will take care of the rest. And no killing!"

  The pair chuckled in agreement. Galway felt his hand burn as they tested against the bonds of their command with evil intentions. They would pay the price if they disobeyed him, Galway knew, but it would also hurt him when they did. Malicent smiled and slunk back into nothingness.

  "It shall be our pleasure to do as you command, Ranger Galway. See to your tiny plans and leave the rest to us."

  Chapter XXIV

  Demons in the Dark

  "But I'm tired." Cale yawned again, stretching.

  Come, the night air will do you good.

  "That's what you said about waking up for night patrol."

  That is because night patrol does you good.

  "That's what you say about everything!"

  Maybe because everything will do you good? You need more meat on your bones and character in your soul if you hope to survive this coming battle.

  "I'd rather sleep," Cale muttered.

  "Will you shut up with this crazy routine?" Vyk walloped him on the back of the head. "People are looking."

  "What people? I thought you said the entire point of coming out this early was to be alone?" Jazreal had been in a bad mood since she’d wok
en up. She hadn't liked Vyk before, but now she was ready to kill him. Maybe she wasn't a morning person? She hadn't said two words to him since rousing out of bed.

  "We're trying to blend in, in case you hadn't noticed."

  "Says you. I look ridiculous." Jazreal gestured to her frilly blouse. Cale thought she looked less like an Indian and more like a normal city girl. But maybe that was why she was upset.

  The streets of Uruk were far from deserted. Nightlife brought on another kind of activity. Most deliveries and shipping were done at night so as not to disturb the shopping and pedestrian traffic during the day. Nights were long, hot and loud, with horses and carts rumbling through the cobbled streets and men with burly voices and bare chests shouting orders.

  Tonight was especially dangerous as the fog that had plagued them for the better part of a week still refused to leave. More than one horse had died from a traffic accident. It just meant more work for the collectors, who plied their trade gathering horse manure, night soil and the bodies of the dead. Horses were especially valuable; their bodies would be rendered into animal feed, gelatin, epoxy and leather. If a human or two got mixed up in the lot, well, few people would bat an eye.

  Cale stuck close, sidestepping traffic as they headed for the grand bathhouse. Just because they weren't as crowded now did not mean there were no people. A line still lingered outside waiting to get in. The guards dealt quite harshly with the few refugees who managed to sneak their way into the city and were caught trying to bathe.

  Inside, the grand foyer was a sight to behold. Polished marble walls with statues everywhere, many bearing water fixtures. Tropical plants from Nubia found their homes here in the heat and steam, surrounded by colorful fresco paintings. People walked around in their finest jewelry and most bespoke clothing. This was a place people came to see and be seen. Vyk paid three silver pieces and passed them each a towel.

  Vyk walked to the apodyterium. "We can store our things in here."

  "Okay," Cale said. Jazreal nodded.

  They both followed Vyk into the main room. "No, Jazreal. You go there." Vyk pointed to the other side of the hall.

  "Okay," Jazreal said. Cale nodded.

  "No, Cale, come back here." Vyk called him back, rolling his eyes. "Just her, not you."

  "But we want to stick together." Jazreal took Cale's hand.

  "Yeah," Cale agreed. She really didn't want to leave him alone with Vyk for some reason.

  "Cale. We bathe naked."

  Cale blushed. He looked at Jazreal, who immediately dropped his hand. Her ears were turning a nice shade of crimson, as well.

  "Well. Best of luck." Jazreal nodded, heading to the opposite apodyterium.

  Cale turned back. Vyk was already inside, stripping off his clothes. Belongings and clothes were placed neatly in small, wicker baskets. There was no one but old men inside, dusty and gray from the work of the day. Cale had to assume some of them were important from the amount of jewelry they were wearing. He pulled his tunic over his head and when he turned around, his eyes nearly fell out of his head. Vyk was naked.

  Cale?

  "Yes?"

  Remember what we talked about when you peeked at Jazreal? The difference between nudity and nakedness, and the dangers of lust? The pitfalls of desiring someone for their body?

  "Yes."

  Well, there is another pitfall you need to watch out for. Covetousness.

  "What's that?"

  Wanting what someone else has simply because they have it.

  Cale took another glance at Vyk's unclad form. "Oh."

  Don't worry, little buddy. You'll grow into it soon enough.

  Cale was quite sure Sword was laughing at him, but he couldn't very well have an argument with a talking sword in a room full of naked men. He hurried and finished undressing, trying to catch up with Vyk.

  "Is it alright to take you in there with me?"

  No one will see me.

  Cale was skeptical of that but decided to trust Sword at his word. He wrapped the towel around his waist and followed after Vyk. Inside was a sight that took his breath away.

  Polished marble gleamed white, with high vaulted ceilings held aloft by massive carved pillars. Seven baths filled the room, each hotter than the last and each its own color. Steam filled the air, giving everything a murky presence. Spacious potted gardens overflowed with flowers and imported plants, lending to the rainforest appearance. Great cedars inlaid with gold and tortoise shell towered like sentinels in the mist. Above the moon pool the ceiling gave way to a portcullis, letting bathers gaze at the stars and soak in the rain. Birds roosted in the plants, flitting about after pollinating insets. Sconces on the walls held massive oil lamps, ensuring the light never went out. Water fixtures in the shapes of pagan gods and goddesses poured their healing waters into the pools and long-forgotten heroes stood watch atop miniature waterfalls. Bas relief portraits carved into plaster walls depicted scenes of ancient peoples of Ras Shamara bathing, eating or locked in a lover’s embrace. Food vendors walked the promenade, selling their wares from little wooden trays, while mistrals followed behind, performing songs at the behest bathing patrons.

  A half wall more than ten feet tall cut through the middle of the entire structure, separating the men from the women. Cale could hear them laughing and talking on the other side. It was somewhat of a relief to know that he wouldn't be entirely separated from Jazreal--they could stare up at the same moon through the same skylight.

  Cale looked around for Vyk, but through the steam he could only clearly see the first three pools. He descended the stairs and stepped his foot in the first bath. It was far too cold for his liking.

  "Hey!" Cale jerked his foot back at the sound of a woman’s voice. "What do you think you're doing?" A woman approached him with long, blond hair and beautiful legs, wearing sheer red silks about her body. She smelled strongly of floral scents.

  "Uh... bathing?" Cale couldn't think of the right answer. This was a bathhouse, wasn't it? Why was she yelling at him? In fact, why was there a woman on the men's side at all?

  "Oh, first time here?" She had beautiful blue eyes and a kind smile behind painted lips. She bent low to look him in the eye.

  Her eyes are up there, Cale.

  Cale meekly nodded at her question. "Well, you need to wash off first. You don't want to get the water all dirty for the other patrons, do you?"

  "But I thought it was a bath?"

  "The water does circulate and slaves do change it regularly, so you're right. But you are--how do I say this?" She touched his hair, wrinkling her nose. "Scruffier than the other bathers might appreciate."

  "Oh."

  Don't worry, Cale. You're young. I am sure there will be plenty of girls in your future who will love the way you smell.

  "Go to that room on the left." She pointed. "That's the balneae. You can shower off there. The soap is free to use, so be sure to scrub well, okay?"

  She smiled at him. It reminded Cale of Regina's smile, tired but patient. She probably wanted to go home and sleep.

  "Um…" Cale stopped her from walking off. "What are you--I mean, how--are you here often?"

  "Sweetie, if you have to ask, you can't afford me." She winked and sauntered away, hips swaying.

  You alright?

  "I feel weird."

  It's probably the heat.

  "Yeah. I hope so." Cale was sweating.

  Vyk burst to the surface from the cold pool, gasping for breath. Cale jumped back and let out a Manly Battle Cry.

  "What are you doing?!" shrieked Cale.

  "I thought she'd never leave." Vyk's hair completely covered his eyes. He looked like a wet sheepdog.

  "Who? That lady?"

  "Yeah."

  "What was she doing here?"

  "Don't worry about it. If you have to ask, you can't afford her." Vyk exited the pool without any shame. "In fact, you could say that's why I was hiding. I couldn't afford her, either, so now I owe her fifteen silver. Have you showered o
ff yet?"

  "Nuh-uh." Cale shook his head. He had to restrain himself from reaching for Sword. He was far too excitable in this city full of weirdoes.

  "Go through that room." Vyk pointed. "Scrub off, then come back here. You can use any pool you want, or all of them. I find it works best if you start at the first and progress your way up. I don't like the later ones--they're too hot for me. If you get hungry, you can get something to eat from the vendors. Here." Vyk handed him a clipped silver coin.

  "Um, where were you keeping this?" Cale stared at the coin in his hand.

  "Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to, kid." Vyk grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist as he walked off.

  "Where are you going?"

  "Well, I need to look the part if we're going to hunt Phantoms. You've given me a reason to feel like myself again, so I thought I'd treat myself."

  "I thought you said you couldn't afford her!" Cale called after him.

  "Relax, lad. I just meant a shave and haircut." Vyk spread his hands, vanishing through the mist.

  Do you understand anything that just happened?

  "No. But I think I just got handed a butt coin."

  It is probably for the best. Go wash up. And Cale? I would wash that coin, too, while you are at it.

  Cale did as he was told and scrubbed himself off in the shower. He finally understood what everyone was telling him as the water at his feet turned almost black with dirt and grime. It took seven trips to fill the water basin before he was finally clean. Cale felt sorry for the slave boys, lugging water jugs almost as large as they were every time someone wanted a shower. He wasn't supposed to, but he gave them each a copper coin after they were done, change from the food vendor.

  The food vendors themselves were professional and courteous, offering all kinds of food and drink as refreshments. No matter which pool you were in, they were never far away. For regular patrons, they offered a line of credit, so as not to bother the bathers with coinage. Cale was not afforded that luxury and spent his silver on a handful of roasted almonds, grilled mushrooms, a date and two pickled quail's eggs. Another vendor was kind enough to offer half a cup of red wine, but that was too strong for his liking.