Legends of Gila Boxed Set: Ruyn Trilogy - 1- Sword of Ruyn, 2 - Magic of Ruyn, 3 - Dragon of Ruyn (Legends of Gilia Boxed Set)

by RG Long

  "Can't afford food?" he asked plainly.

  She stared hard at him, and then got up and stomped off in a southern direction, towards Beaton.

  For a time he just walked silently beside her, not wanting to annoy her any further.

  Strange, he thought, I thought she'd have money to burn.

  Being an assassin must not pay as well, or at least as often, as he thought.

  They continued on their way until the suns burned low in the sky and the night sky began to show stars above.

  "Might be a good time to stop for the night," Ealrin suggested.

  Silverwolf laughed out.

  She looked at him with a devilish smirk.

  "Ealrin, we just met. I'm not sleeping anywhere near you," she said with a grin. "Plus I doubt you'd sleep soundly next to a professional killer."

  He honestly hadn't given that much thought.

  "I just thought..." he trailed off.

  Well now he doubted a lot of ideas that came to him. Would he be safe to sleep and allow her to stand guard? Or would she trust him to watch while she slept? That was unlikely.

  "Walking through the night is beginning to sound like a better plan, hmm?" she teased.

  Not really, he thought.

  For an assassin, she certainly didn't mind being humorous.

  "You can sleep all you want, Ealrin," she told him. "I won't rest much anyway."

  "And can I trust that you'll not slit my throat and take my coins?" he asked her.

  A dagger fell from her wrist into her hand. She threw it into the air and caught it with her other hand, while putting Holve's spear into a holder and drawing out her own sword.

  She assumed a position of attack in Ealrin's direction.

  "I could have killed you at any point today," she said as she wielded both weapons expertly. "Plus, you just might come up with the coins to pay me to do your job. It'd be bad business to kill a potential client this early in the game."

  She sheathed the sword and replaced the dagger. The spear, she leaned against as a walking stick. It seemed a terribly mundane use for such an ornate weapon.

  "But make any advance on me in the night," she said in a tone that held none of her previous mirth. "And I will enjoy making you bleed."

  It didn't do much to ease his mind, but with that in mind, they could at least stop for the night.

  ***

  THEIR CAMP WAS QUIET. Ealrin made a small fire, not fearing any who traveled the road. Indeed, they had been the only travelers he had seen all day.

  As he warmed his hands by the fire, he looked over at Silverwolf as she adjusted her pack and her cloak. For a time, she simply admired the spear Ealrin knew belonged to Holve. He was still working out why he wanted to get that back from her.

  How he was going to do that, however, he didn't know.

  She certainly seemed like a mysterious character. But that didn't mean she didn't have a history.

  Ealrin had nearly been all over the entire continent and had not once found anyone who recognized him or knew him from before he lost his memory.

  Perhaps there was someone who would call her friend?

  "How does one choose to become an assassin?" he asked her as he sat back from the fire, taking out another piece of dried meat to eat.

  "It was the best of any alternative I could find," she said. "I told you. Girls don't get much of a break when they don't have anyone to support them. I wanted to take control of my own life."

  "Yes, but, I suppose I mean, what's your story?" he asked.

  She looked into the fire for a moment, and then at Ealrin.

  "You're a strange one," she said. "First you're worried that I'm going to slit your throat, now you want my personal history?"

  He chuckled. It did sound odd.

  "Well," he began. "I guess I like to give people the benefit of the doubt..."

  A ghostly howl rang out through the night and he stood.

  So did Silverwolf.

  "That's not good," she said.

  "Wolves?" Ealrin asked, drawing his short blade. Despite the cold, it felt warm in his hand.

  "Worse," she answered as she drew her own sword and dagger. With one, she pointed towards the west.

  Four purple flames rose over the horizon.

  36: Hounds of the Plains

  "What do we do?" Ealrin asked.

  "Well mister 'I had to light a fire,'" she said with measured sarcasm. "We wait for them to come get us."

  He looked sideways at her, irritated. Mostly because he knew she was right.

  The flames came nearer. The demons were running full speed at them and their fire.

  Ealrin stood ready with his sword drawn. Silverwolf beside him, with dagger and sword, prepared to engage.

  As the purple flames neared, they slowed into a steady approach. Ealrin heard a dark and unearthly growl.

  "Dogs with scales," Silverwolf said under her breath, just as the four demons came into their view. "Pleasant."

  The eyes of each beast were red in the firelight. Or perhaps they were actually red, Ealrin thought.

  Slowly, they began to circle them. Ealrin followed two to one side of the fire, while Silverwolf tracked the others.

  "Count of three?" Ealrin asked, staring hard into the eyes of one of the demon hounds. Its jaw was open and saliva poured from its mouth, even as the purple flames around it burned bright with unnatural light.

  "Suit yourself," he heard her respond, followed by the whip of air as a dagger flew from her hand.

  So much for teamwork, Ealrin thought.

  At Silverwolf's swift motion, the one staring him down pounced. He responded by crouching and driving his sword forward. The blade bit into the beast's flesh. Then Ealrin felt a sting of pain as its massive claws scratched his shoulder. He managed to throw the thing from him with a powerful kick.

  His sword came loose, however, when the demon kicked at his hand. The blade flew out of reach and Ealrin found himself weaponless as he stood and faced the second demon prowling near. The first was howling in pain and thrashing about just beyond the light of the campfire.

  Frantically searching the ground for a rock or a stick to defend himself with, Ealrin found something much better: Holve's spear. He grabbed it up and pointed it at the demon.

  The tip of the spear glowed with a bright white light and the hound howled at it, pawing the air in a rage.

  It leapt towards Ealrin, who instinctively fell back to the ground with the tip pointed at the beast.

  As the demon landed on the spear, its body burst into a brilliant white light and it let out an ear splitting scream.

  Then it burst into a thousand smoking pieces.

  The blast extinguished the fire, casting them all into darkness.

  Ealrin scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could; ready to attack the next hound. Instead of another pouncing demon, however, he saw two retreating onto the plains.

  Another lay dead at Silverwolf's feet. Her left hand was bleeding, but other than that, she looked unharmed.

  She looked at Ealrin, then down at the spear.

  "What happened with that thing?" she asked, as she cut a strip of cloth to tie around her hand and stop the blood flowing down her arm.

  Ealrin held the firm wood in his hands. It vibrated ever so softly.

  He looked at the tip as the light from it began to fade and then back to Silverwolf.

  "I don't know."

  ***

  THEY BOTH DECIDED SLEEP was pointless after that. After dressing their wounds, they walked on.

  The moon lit their path as they headed south.

  Ealrin carried the spear for now, and Silverwolf hadn't yet argued against it.

  Night sounds filled the air. An owl screeched after it dove to catch a meal. Bats filled the air for a moment, searching for their own food. Crickets and other insects chirped to the stars.

  Neither of them spoke for a long time as they walked.

  Silverwolf, however, looked intently at th
e spear in Ealrin's hand.

  "So, is it Rimstone in the tip?" she asked after a long time. "There seems to be something magic about that thing," she said.

  "It belonged to a friend," Ealrin answered. "I don't know much about it, other than I've seen it defeat a demon before."

  "That would have been useful information before we took on those hounds," Silverwolf retorted.

  "I didn't remember until just then," he replied.

  It was true.

  He was more worried about surviving.

  Holve hadn't revealed that there was anything special about his spear. Ealrin only knew that it was a fine weapon. He hadn't seen its equal since arriving on Ruyn.

  Still, she was right again.

  And next time, Ealrin planned to put the spear to good use before getting his shoulder torn up.

  His wound burned as they walked. It throbbed with every beat of his heart. The demon's claws had both cut into his skin and burned his flesh. The tear was not pleasant to look at.

  He tried not to think about it.

  After several hours of walking, the first sun began to peak over the horizon.

  As it cast its light, they were able to see their first glimpses of the northern side of the city of Beaton.

  The sight stopped them both in their tracks.

  "What in the..." Ealrin started to say.

  Silverwolf cut him off.

  "Oh," she said. "If my client is dead, I am going to murder someone."

  The City of Beaton was in flames.

  37: A Coup Begins

  "Bertrom!" Wisym shouted as she pounded on the door of his room. "Bertrom! Get up!"

  She heard several things crash to the floor and a few curses before the door opened.

  Bertrom stood there in his pants and shirt, though the latter was disheveled and hardly buttoned. His feet were bare.

  "It's the middle of the night!" he protested. "What is it?"

  Wisym barged into his quarters, found his boots, and handed them to him.

  "Put these on," she commanded. "Now! Meet me at the main door. Bring your sword."

  Before waiting to hear any more questions, she flew out of the room and down the stairs.

  After hearing the commotion outside, she had woken up from her sleep and dressed quickly. She said a prayer of thanks to her elders that she had decided to stay at the mansion tonight.

  Many more prayers would be said before the night was over.

  Wisym armed herself with her two trusty blades that she had stored here in the mansion, not having need of them in the elf settlement.

  When she arrived at the door to the mansion, she only had to wait a moment before Bertrom came bumbling down the stairs.

  "Would you care to explain why you've got me dressed and armed in the middle of the night?" he asked as he yawned and rubbed one of his eyes.

  In answer, she opened the door.

  Red light spilled into the mansion as fires burned throughout the city. Some of the houses in the upper district burned. Notably, Wisym acknowledged, those belonging to the Red Guard officers.

  People in masks ran up and down the streets, carrying torches and weapons. A group of them were marching towards the governor's mansion. In response, a column of Red Guard soldiers marched towards them, spears drawn and officer's ordering their men to "Charge!"

  Wisym grabbed Bertrom’s wrist and dragged him out into the night.

  "Come on," she said. "The Silver Suns are making a coup."

  38: Reunited

  Tory rubbed his eyes several times just to make sure he hadn't seen a ghost.

  Holve walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

  "You can get rid of the stupid expression," he said roughly. "There's a lot we have to discuss. On your feet."

  Tory stood and glanced around him. They were in a large room. Or at least, Tory thought it was a room. The floors were tiled and smooth, but the ceiling and walls were all natural rock. Stalactites hung from the ceiling. Some held glowing orbs that lit the room. It smelled of earth. So different was this room than the hall they had just been in.

  Holve walked past them and out onto a balcony that overlooked the snowy fields before them. Tory and Lote followed.

  Tory assumed that this was the way they had come. Looking around he saw nothing but a mountainous terrain and rough rock.

  "Where are we?" He asked, trying to make sense of at least one part of the situation.

  Lote answered him.

  "This is the castle of Shiv," she said bitterly. "Cleverly disguised to blend into the mountainside. They hide like the cowards they are."

  "Watch your tongue, spawn of Yulian filth," a voice said from a few paces behind them.

  Tory recognized it as the same voice that had threatened him earlier.

  He looked back and saw her standing in black robes. The cloth was wound tightly around her body. All that shown was her face and her hair. Even her hands were gloved in black. She wore a look of pure hatred and all of it was aimed at Lote. The most striking thing about her, though, was her near white blonde hair that contrasted starkly against her clothes of night.

  Lote made to advance on this female elf. Holve stepped in between them.

  "It's time to put your differences aside," he told the both of them, though his gaze lingered on Lote.

  "Now tell me, why would two of the King’s Swords be so far north? And why would they not be in the company of any of the Royal members of the House of Thoran?"

  Tory looked at Holve incredulously.

  "And how can a man I saw cause an explosion so large that there was nothing left but a crater stand here and ask about our motives?" He blurted out.

  Tory could recall that battle. Many of his fellow soldiers had fallen to the demon Holve fought. Many more fell to Androlion's men. Holve was dead to Tory. They had buried him in memory in Thoran. What dark magic was at work here? Why had Holve returned when so many others, like Gray, hadn't?

  Tory was in near tears, both of rage at the loss of so many friends and a stifled joy that Holve might actually be alive and before him.

  "How is it that you live?" he asked.

  Holve looked back from Lote to Tory. His eyes held anger and fear, hope and life.

  "Fine," he said. "My story first. Then yours."

  He looked up and pointed towards the dark comet that still hovered in the sky.

  "That abomination," he said. "Is no ordinary star."

  "It is a plane of existence all its own. A realm trapped within an inferno of flame. On it dwell the most hideous and violent of demons."

  "One of them broke free, for the thing is a prison as much as it is a place, and attacked us. The demons there are free from their bonds when battles rage down here."

  "So that's why one of them crashed into the battle in Thoran?" Lote asked.

  Tory saw that she, like him, was trying to piece together what Holve was telling them.

  A plane? A realm? A place of existence?

  It sounded as if it were a planet of demons.

  "They are drawn to bloodshed and violence. There are more demons we can expect to see released onto our own world."

  "But how do you know this?" Tory asked, still confused.

  Holve looked at him. His expression was battle hardened and cold.

  "Because I was there," he said.

  "I attempted a spell to send the beast back where it came from. In a manner of speaking, I succeeded. The demon was hurled back to the dark comet in the midst of what I'm sure was an enormous explosion. Unfortunately, it took me with it."

  "I don't know how differently time passes on the comet, but it feels as if I have been gone for years, battling that monstrosity for decades."

  He shuddered.

  "Don't ask me to describe that hellish place. Your worst nightmares would not do it justice."

  Lote and Tory exchanged glances.

  "Though what may have been the most favorable hand fate has ever dealt me, I was drawn back to this
place. They tell me the fighting between Yule and Shiv has been getting worse recently. The bloodshed drew me here."

  Tory had more questions than Holve was giving him answers for. None of them could be easily put into words at the moment, so he left well enough alone.

  Holve walked back inside the door, into the large chamber that housed three thrones atop a natural rock stair. Even the throne looked to be as untouched by tools as necessary.

  "A day ago," Holve continued. "Shivian elves said they saw you leave the inn below the wastes. I sent them to retrieve you. Under a condition we will speak of in time."

  He turned to face them.

  "Your turn. Why are you here?"

  Tory looked at Lote, who began to relate all that had happened in the last month.

  The attack on Thoran by goblins. The absence of an attack from Androlion. The plan to find allies in the north and how they had recently split in order to visit the three northern kingdoms of men, dwarves, and elves.

  The three of them stood at the base of the grand, natural thrones for the extent of the tale.

  He simply nodded to acknowledge he heard them. When she finished talking, he looked off and sighed deeply.

  "Then your purpose and the conditions I gave the elves of Shiv are aligned. If they can gain the upper hand in their struggle with Yule and arrange a peaceable coexistence, then Thoran may benefit from their aid."

  "A peaceable existence might only be found once every Yule elf is dead," the female said, breaking her previous silence.

  "Those were not the terms you and I agreed to, Pella," Holve said plainly. "And you know why you need me here to aid you. I would not forget it."

  The elf scowled, but did not argue Holve's words. She bowed her head and stepped backward.

  Holve folded his arms and looked at Tory and Lote sternly.

  "However," he said with a look of deep thought. "We will soon find ourselves in a position to worry about more than Shiv, Thoran and Androlion. Or Ruyn, for that matter."

  Tory was done being silent.

  "I'm completely lost now. I thought ridding ourselves of Androlion was the thing we were most concerned about! What do you mean we need to worry about something different?"