The Call of Ancient Light

by Ben Wolf

  “I have been absent from my home for too long.” Magnus gazed toward the west. “And if we find Lumen, if we can set him free, then we can change Kanarah forever. We will no longer have to flee from the King’s men.”

  Calum and Magnus stared at Axel.

  He sighed and folded his arms again. This was a colossally stupid idea, but Calum was right about one thing: Axel didn’t have any other plans, nor did he have somewhere else to be. This path would take him on an adventure, at least, and for now, that could be enough.

  “Fine,” he said. “You two want to go on your little quest? I guess I’ll come along to make sure you’re safe.”

  “Speaking of which,” Magnus said. “Both of you, grab your swords. It’s time for your first lesson. After that, we eat breakfast, then we get on the move.”

  “Can’t we eat breakfast first?” Axel rubbed his stomach.

  “Certainly. Calum and I will go through some basics while you prepare breakfast.”

  Axel frowned. “That’s not what I had in mind.”

  “You are doubtless acclimated to awakening to breakfast on the table, thanks to your mother, but she is not here.” Magnus smirked. “I would have packed her, but we were in such a rush…”

  “Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Axel glared at him. “Just so you know, I hate cooking, so eat at your own risk.”

  “In addition to combat training, reading, writing, and history, I will teach you both how to cook. The women in your futures—if any are magnanimous enough to tolerate you—will thank me for it.” Magnus turned to Calum. “Come over here. Let us begin.”

  The lesson came and went, as did breakfast, more lessons, and lunch. That afternoon, just when Calum thought he was getting the hang of swordplay, Magnus announced it was time to head out. With Magnus in the lead, the trio traveled southwest toward the heart of the Snake Mountains.

  Days passed, then weeks. Calum’s dreams of Lumen persisted. Lumen kept reminding Calum that his time was near and that he’d soon return, but only with Calum’s help. Despite the rough terrain, dwindling food supplies, and even less rest than he’d had at the quarry, Calum pressed onward, galvanized by Lumen’s call.

  The terrain at the edge of the Snake Mountain range proved as unforgiving as Magnus had suggested. Vegetation struggled to grow in the rocky ground, and they hadn’t seen many animals, either. It reminded Calum of the desolate interior of the quarry.

  Likewise, the Valley of the Tri-Lakes far below resembled a desert of grays with three massive pools of shimmering water spread across the land under the midday sun. Calum could only see two of the three lakes, but Magnus said there was a third much farther south.

  After a fourth day of fruitlessly searching for a feasible route down into the valley, they set up camp about forty feet from the edge of the cliff separating them from the valley below.

  Magnus shook his head and gulped down his last bite of smoked venison. “It is as I suspected; I do not believe we can find a way down after all.”

  Calum sighed. The journey thus far had exhausted him. Whenever they weren’t hiking, they were training. And whenever they weren’t training, they were hiking. And whenever they weren’t hiking or training, Magnus made good on his promise to teach them to read and write, courtesy of sticks and symbols—letters—drawn into the dirt to form words.

  As a result, Calum had no trouble falling asleep every night, but dreams of Lumen often woke him early. Whenever they did, he found it harder to fall back to sleep afterward.

  “So what does that mean?” he asked.

  “It means we must head to Kanarah City,” Magnus replied. “That is the starting point for Trader’s Pass, the only true path through the valley.”

  The idea of visiting a city, particularly one as big as Kanarah City, excited Calum, but it also worried him. If the King’s soldiers were still searching for the three of them, a city might not be the best place to visit. “Where is that?”

  “About a month’s walk south from here. It would be less on a road, so I am factoring in the terrain.”

  “We’ll never make it there in time. We’ll run outta food long before then.” Axel folded his arms. “Sure, we could hunt with the spears if there was anything around here worth hunting, but I haven’t seen so much as a squirrel in the last four days. We gotta head east and either hunt in the woods or trade in a nearby village.”

  Calum raised an eyebrow. “Just yesterday, you said you wouldn’t want to go into a village with Magnus.”

  “That’s because I did say that, and I meant it, too. But you and I can still go in there and see what we can come up with.”

  “Axel is right,” Magnus said. “Someone will need to watch our supplies anyway. I am happy to oblige. Either way, you two are capable enough with your weapons now that I can trust you on your own.”

  “Got that right.” Axel smirked. “So we head east tomorrow?”

  “Southeast,” Magnus corrected. “Yes.”

  “Works for me,” Calum replied.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes and watched their pitiful campfire dwindle even smaller. Calum finally spoke up. “So I think I’m definitely better at throwing the spear than Axel, but I’m not as good at fighting with it as he is.”

  Axel rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m better at both, and you know it.”

  Magnus just stared into the darkness toward the east, away from the cliff. Calum expected he’d weigh in, but he hadn’t said a word. Perhaps he was just lost in thought, or reliving another dark memory from his past, none of which he’d ever discussed with them in any meaningful detail.

  Or perhaps it was something else entirely.

  Calum leaned toward him. “Magnus?”

  “Quiet,” he hissed. “Something is out there.”

  A low growl sounded over the crackling of the dying campfire, and Calum’s heart smacked against the inside of his chest. He still couldn’t see anything, but the sound had come from the darkness only a few yards away from their position.

  Axel slowly pulled his sword from its sheath, and Calum did the same with his own.

  Another growl sounded, then another. Then three more.

  “Sabertooths.” Magnus latched his helmet onto his head and drew his huge broadsword.

  “What?” Calum tried to make eye contact with him, but Magnus didn’t divert his vision away from the darkness.

  “Sabertooth tigers. Wild cats. Big ones. Carnivorous.” Magnus exhaled a long breath through his nostrils. “On your feet, boys. Do not back away from them, no matter what. Stand your ground and fight.”

  Calum nodded. He could do this. He could defend himself. He’d survived a fall into the Gronyx’s pit, after all. He’d battled quarry workers, and he’d raided the Rock Outpost. Remembering those things gave him courage, despite the hammering in his heart.

  A set of large feline eyes flickered in the darkness. Then another. Then another. Then another. Then another…

  Calum counted twelve sets of shining eyes before the first cat emerged.

  An orange-and-black blur with large fangs leaped toward Magnus, who reacted with clean alacrity. He both sidestepped the cat and swung his broadsword at the same time, and the vicious blow knocked the cat off its trajectory. It skidded along the rocky dirt away from the campsite until it stopped against a boulder, motionless, with a devastating wound along its flank.

  Eleven to go.

  The other cats all charged at once. Wide-eyed, Calum sidestepped the first just like Magnus and the cat flew past. It clawed at the dirt as it slipped over the edge of the cliff and disappeared, roaring the whole way down.

  But Calum couldn’t have avoided the next cat no matter what he did. Its gigantic fangs just missed Calum’s head as it tackled him to the ground with its front paws. The fangs had to be at least a foot long, if not more.

  Up close, it smelled like rancid meat and the stink of nature gone sour. The cat was gaunt yet powerful, doubtless even more desperate than Calum and the others for a good
meal. And if Calum didn’t do something soon, he’d become the meal.

  Calum tried to push the cat off him, but that proved impossible. He wasn’t nearly strong enough, and the cat had dug its claws into Calum’s leather chest armor, anchoring itself in place.

  As the cat leaned its huge head toward his face, Calum plunged his sword into the side of the cat’s neck. The cat stiffened and dropped on its side, off of Calum.

  He’d done it. He’d actually killed one of them.

  No time to celebrate. A third and a fourth cat charged at him, one right after another.

  Instead of standing his ground like Magnus said, Calum stepped forward before the front cat could jump, timed his swing, and took it out with a vicious hack to its head. It was a trick he’d used on Axel a few times when they were sparring, and it was one of the only ways he’d managed to win so far.

  Axel might’ve been stronger, but Calum was just a little bit faster.

  But there was only ever one of Axel to spar with. Calum still had another cat to deal with.

  He spun away to avoid the next cat, but by the time he repositioned, the cat reared up on its hind legs and swiped at his head. Calum wasn’t fast enough to dodge the blow, but his reflexes brought his left forearm up in time to block the blow.

  Sharp pain flared in his forearm as the cat’s claws punctured through the thick leather armored gauntlet, and Calum winced. Better there than his unprotected head, but he’d paid the price all the same.

  The swipe also knocked him off-balance, but he quickly recovered his footing and held his sword at the ready.

  The cat rose up on its hind haunches to swipe at him again, but this time Calum ducked low and jammed his blade up into the cat’s chest. The cat toppled to Calum’s left and lay still in the dirt.

  Magnus’s training had served him well. He hadn’t hesitated, he hadn’t been afraid. He’d just done what he had to do.

  No more cats charged him, but two of them now circled Axel from different directions. Not good.

  Calum hollered and ran toward the nearest one. It turned and pounced at him faster than he expected, but he managed to raise his sword and intercept its fangs with a loud clang.

  Even so, the blow sent him reeling backward. His right foot caught on something and he landed on his back. His sword tumbled away, and as Calum groped for it, the cat mounted him with its fangs angled toward his head.

  Calum shifted his torso hard to the left, and the fangs dug into the ground instead of his face. When Calum grabbed onto them with his hands, the cat roared and shook his head, shaking Calum along with it.

  It swiped at Calum with both of its front paws and tried to pull him off, but he didn’t let go, even when the cat’s claws latched onto his right shoulder pad and wrenched him downward.

  Calum yelled as the cat thrashed him about. He timed it just right and released his grip on one of the cat’s more vigorous jerks, freeing him from the entirety of its weight for just a second.

  He rolled toward his sword, scooped it into his right hand, twisted back toward the cat, and jammed it between the fangs, into the cat’s gaping mouth. The cat stopped mid-lunge and dropped chin-first, but its upper half pinned Calum’s legs to the ground.

  Now another cat approached him, snarling. Its spotted face contorted as it spread its jaws wide and roared at him.

  Calum yanked the sword from the dead cat’s mouth and tried to push it off of him, but he couldn’t. Was he really so weak that he couldn’t even free himself from the carcass of a dead animal? Was that weakness going to be the death of him?

  He managed to wrest one of his legs free, and he pushed with all his might to pull the other one loose, but he was already too late.

  As the other cat shifted its weight against its back legs and sprang toward him, all Calum could do was raise his sword in a feeble attempt to fend it off.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A green-and-blue blur rammed the cat from the side and sent it spiraling toward the cliff’s edge.

  Magnus.

  Calum exhaled the breath he’d taken in.

  The cat’s claws stopped its momentum before it reached the drop-off. It righted itself, snarled, and charged Magnus, but he sidestepped again and grabbed one of its fangs with his free hand. He pulled the cat close, swiped its front legs out from under it with his tail, and raised his sword. In one hearty blow he severed the cat’s head from its body and held it in his hand.

  Axel skewered the last cat through its eye with his sword and a victorious yell. The cat slumped to the ground, and Axel looked around. “That’s it? No more?”

  “What, not enough for you?” Calum, with one leg still pinned under the dead cat, sucked in some quick breaths. He pushed against it with his other leg until he managed to pull his leg free.

  Only when Calum stood to his feet and surveyed the aftermath of the battle did it truly hit him that they’d made it—that he’d made it. He’d used what Magnus had taught him, and he’d survived.

  Sure, his left forearm was bleeding, and constantly getting knocked down had left his head aching, but he’d made it through.

  Axel gave a mischievous grin. “I was having fun.”

  “Good work, you two.” Magnus scanned the darkness around their campsite, then he tossed the sabertoothed cat’s head near his spot by the fire.

  “Thanks.” Calum wiped the blood from his sword on the hide of the nearest dead cat. “So do we just leave these carcasses here, or what?”

  “I wanna know if we can eat these things,” Axel said. “I mean, it’s not my first choice, but I’m pretty hungry.”

  “I have never tasted the flesh of this beast,” Magnus started, “but drag this headless one over to the fire. Perhaps the smell of one of their own burning will serve to repel others, and perhaps we may find them to be edible. I am going to do a quick check of the surrounding area.”

  As he walked into the main hall of the Rock Outpost, Commander Beynard Anigo could hear the men discussing Commander Pordone’s death in hushed tones. It signaled a lack of respect, both for the situation and for the dead, and it represented one of many issues he would doubtless have to correct if he intended to complete his mission efficiently.

  The moment Commander Anigo presented himself to the soldiers, all of whom had gathered before the stone fireplace in the common room, they went quiet.

  Good, he mused. They aren’t completely lacking in discipline.

  “Greetings, fellow soldiers of the King,” he addressed them. “I am Commander Beynard Anigo. In light of Commander Pordone’s untimely demise and the business he left unfinished—namely the treason of two quarry workers and one farmhand—I have been sent here as a replacement to see that justice is served.”

  None of them said anything in response, nor did they dare to move. Perhaps Pordone hadn’t been so lax in his standards for them after all.

  Ever since their time together in the officers’ academy in Solace, Commander Anigo had never liked Pordone, but he certainly hadn’t wished injury upon him, either. However, more than mere injury had found him nonetheless.

  The order he’d received a week earlier detailed the escape of two workers from the quarry and one from a family farm nearby. In the ensuing escape, worker casualties mounted, and Commander Pordone had sustained a fatal injury—a fall from his horse in the woods that broke his neck. The horse had died as well, courtesy of Pordone’s own spear, as thrown by one of the escaping workers.

  “The loss of one such as Commander Pordone is tragic, but it pales in comparison to the escape of the three fugitives responsible for this tragedy,” he continued. “It has been made clear to me that our priority is the capture and return of these fugitives directly to Solace for trial and sentencing in the King’s courts.

  “As your new commander, I am authorized to modify the terms of these orders as they pertain to the situation at hand. Given the violent natures and actions of these fugitives, I hereby declare it also permissible that they be executed in the
King’s name should they refuse to comply with our orders.”

  He studied each of their faces. Some of them nodded, others remained still as statues, and still others stared at the floor.

  Commander Anigo noted the bloodstained wooden slats both near the hearth and under his own boots—evidence of the escaped workers’ incursion into this base—and frowned. The men who’d perished in those spots had died carelessly, and the men who’d tried to clean up the mess had been equally careless.

  It disgusted him.

  All of it.

  The idea of leaving his cushy assignment in Solace, Kanarah’s capital city, to serve as commander in this backwater province filled his veins with fury. He hadn’t labored his whole career, serving at the pleasure of the King in hunting down the most egregious offenders and bringing them to justice, to be reduced to… this.

  All that work, all of his successes wiped away by one order, one command relegating him to this rural nightmare. It was disgraceful. Demeaning. And he’d done nothing to warrant such treatment. Nothing whatsoever.

  Yet here he was, all the same.

  He clenched his fists and tensed his jaw.

  But Commander Anigo had always prided himself on thriving based only on his needs, not his wants. He would make do here, in the middle of nowhere, and once he completed his mission, he would doubtless be welcomed back to Solace as a hero, a crusader who had righted the great wrongs inflicted upon this miserable place.

  He let his hands and his jaw relax.

  “That is all for now,” he concluded. “See to it that these floors are cleaned of blood yet again, as they did not receive proper attention the first time. Our search begins tomorrow at dawn, and no later. Anyone who delays us will be whipped for the duration of time he makes me wait.”