PURE OF HEART

by Christopher Greyson

  “By all means, my boy,” he said. “Stay as long as you want. I’ll start gathering what you desire. In the morning, you’ll be able to rest far easier. For tonight, I thank you for joining me.”

  “No, thank you.” Han groaned as he sat up, wishing he’d stopped eating long before.

  As the servant took them back to their rooms, they all wished they had eaten less. All except Bravic, who only picked at his food. He had been thinking of something else.

  Han yawned. “I have to sleep. It’s past midnight, and with my belly so full, bed will feel so good.”

  “We’re getting up early and leaving,” Dean said.

  Han tossed his hands up. “You just said we could stay a few days and rest. I for one would like another banquet.”

  “That’ll only give us a few hours sleep,” Han whined.

  “Why?” Oieda eyed Dean.

  “I want to get moving.”

  “He is helping us,” she said. “We should rest a few days.”

  “I agree,” Bravic rumbled. “The horses could use it too.”

  “And me,” Han added.

  Dean looked at his three friends and shook his head. “No. We go first thing. Agreed?”

  They all nodded. Oieda spun on her heels, Han pouted, and Bravic walked away muttering.

  Dean got into the extra soft bed and sank into the mattress. Between the comfort of not sleeping on the hard ground and his full stomach, the last thing he wanted to do was leave right away, but his nagging feeling won. He planned to leave as soon as they could.

  After only a short time, Bravic’s door opened, and he quietly slipped down the hallway. He crept by the sleeping guards and went out the gate into the darkened streets.

  He didn’t notice the silent form, now following him down the deserted road like a shadow. He kept walking at a fast pace until he approached the store window they’d passed earlier that day. The window in which lay the golden axe. He stared for a moment at the gleam of tainted yellow light that seeped up the blade. In one motion, he thrust his gauntleted fist through one of the window panels. He grasped the handle. He looked casually around, turned, and started to walk back down the street.

  When Bravic neared an alleyway, a cloaked figure stepped in front of his path. He swung his golden axe upward. The blade gleamed in the moonlight. As he prepared to strike the figure down, it pulled back its hood and stood before Bravic.

  “Do you not believe in the quest?” Han asked with hurt in his eyes.

  “I believe in it. But this axe is mine,” Bravic spat, his weapon still raised.

  “How can you believe, yet steal? I thought you were a braver warrior than that.” Han’s pain turned to anger.

  “Brave warrior?” Bravic snarled as shame welled up inside him. “I’m not a warrior—I’m a coward. I deserted a battle. That’s the brave warrior you look upon.”

  Han scoffed. “You’re no coward. You’ve been saving Dean and me since we met you. We both would have died if we hadn’t met you. The Varlug would have killed us in the pool. What about the horse that would have trampled me? You’re the bravest—”

  “I’m not brave.”

  “Do you think that axe will make you brave?”

  “The axe is mine. Whether it makes me brave or not. I want the best axe in the lands,” Bravic growled as he gripped the axe harder.

  “The best axe in the land? Then I guess your brother’s axe wasn’t good enough for you.”

  Bravic froze. His eyes burned. Han turned and walked away. Bravic looked down at the golden blade. He hung his head.

  Han stormed away, unsure of what to do. Should he go back and tell Dean or try to talk to Bravic again? Han paused as he heard footsteps run back toward the store. He waited for Bravic and after a minute, the Dwarf ran back to him.

  “Forgive me,” Bravic whispered. “I’ve added to my shame.”

  “No, you haven’t.” Han shook his head.

  “I’m a coward and a thief.” Bravic exhaled and stopped walking. “I saw that axe and . . . I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I just wanted it.”

  “But you put it back. So you’re not a thief. We all have temptations. Look at me. I ate nine donuts. And that was after dinner and dessert.”

  “It’s not the same thing.” Bravic shook his head.

  “It is. I didn’t need nine donuts. I was full. I knew I shouldn’t, but I did because they taste so good.” Han wiggled.

  Bravic chuckled. He looked at the Elvana and then up at the black sky. “I’m still a coward.”

  Han scoffed. “You? No. You’re one of the bravest warriors I’ve ever seen. Besides, you came back to this battle, right?”

  Bravic’s brow pressed together and he curtly nodded his head. “Thank you.”

  Han gave him a quick hug, and they hurried back to Anganese’s house.

  ****

  Dean rolled over in the bed and stared at the ceiling. He debated waking the others when there came a knock on all four of the companions’ doors. When they rose, servants were waiting outside.

  “Anganese has urgent news for you all,” announced the servant whom they first met at the carriage.

  “Give us a second to get ready,” Dean said.

  “The mayor has requested your presence immediately,” the servant pressed.

  “I have to use the bathroom,” Dean said.

  The servant frowned as Dean shut the door.

  Dean motioned everyone to him. “This doesn’t feel right. Take what you can carry and your weapons.”

  “We requested his aid. We will bring shame on Kilacouqua if we just sneak out now.” Oieda’s eyes hardened, and she shook her head.

  Dean exhaled.

  “We need the supplies,” Han said.

  “And the horses,” Bravic added.

  “Fine.” Dean strapped his sword on. “We’ll meet with him, but I want everyone to be on guard. I do the talking.”

  The four grabbed their weapons and followed the servant to the hallway. Dean looked up and down the corridor, but everything looked the same. When they reached the hall where they’d just eaten, the servant held the door open for them.

  “Bravic, watch our backs,” Dean whispered.

  As they came into the room, Anganese sat at the far end of the table and rose to greet them. “My friends, I am truly sorry for waking you, but I have very urgent news.” He motioned them into the room. “I feel that you’ll be able to see Volsur with greater ease than you’d hoped.” As he said this, twenty armed guards poured into the room along with Kecheta.

  “TRAITOR!” Oieda reached back for her spear and Dean grabbed her arm. “I should have let the wolves eat you. You lose your challenge to me so you betray your people?”

  Kecheta sneered. “You are your father’s daughter. You refuse to see the truth. We go with our allies and ally with Volsur, or we will be wiped out.”

  “I’m sorry I have to do this, but please don’t try anything foolish.” Anganese’s eyes were ice cold. “You see, Volsur and I are having disagreements as of late. He wants me to turn over most of the money from my city, and I disagree. Now, if I give him four little rebels who wish to kill him, then maybe that’ll count for a great deal of gold. I’m not an evil man. I hate Volsur as much as all of you. But, I’ll not part with any of my gold, so I must part with you. I’m sorry.” As he said these last words, he smiled a wicked little smile.

  “You fat jerk,” Han yelled.

  “Listen, Elvana,” Anganese spat menacingly, “I have not decided if I’ll give you to Volsur dead or alive. So, watch your tongue, or I’ll have it cut out.”

  Oieda and Bravic put their hands on their weapons. Dean held out his hand. “Not now.”

  “I’d listen to him,” Anganese said. “If you draw your weapons, you will die.”

  As Dean’s eyes swept the room to look for some sort of escape, a scream came from behind the closed door in the hallway they had come through. Soon more screams split the air.

  The two d
oors burst open, and a bloodied guard rushed in. “Volsur’s attacked,” he panted as he slammed the doors shut. “Krulgs have overrun the house gates.”

  Anganese’s men stared nervously at him, but he just stood bewildered at the door.

  “Looks like you’re not in too good of a situation yourself.” Dean grinned.

  “Cut his tongue—” Anganese started to order, but the doors burst open and Krulgs streamed into the room.

  Everyone drew their weapons as the guards turned to face these new enemies.

  Kecheta pulled back his spear and aimed at Oieda.

  Han sent one of his daggers flying for Ketcheta’s head.

  Kecheta stepped to the side and hurled his spear at Oieda but the spear flew wide.

  “Wait,” Anganese pleaded. “They’re the traitors to Volsur.” He pointed at Dean. “They want to kill him. He is Dean—” Anganese stopped yelling as a Krulg axe ran him through.

  “Out the back,” Dean ordered as his sword cut into a Krulg’s chest.

  The companions moved to the back of the room. The Dwarf and Elf fought side by side and dropped many Krulgs, while Han shot any that managed to get by the two.

  Kecheta grabbed a sword from one of the soldiers and fought with the Krulgs. More streamed into the room.

  Dean whipped open the rear door and ushered everyone out.

  “Wait,” Kecheta yelled as he sprang over the table and raced for the back. Three Krulgs grabbed him and pulled him screaming to the floor.

  Dean slammed the door and shut its deadbolt after all the companions were through. “That isn’t going to hold those guys for long,” Dean said.

  “This corridor leads to the back of the house.” Bravic pointed with his axe.

  The corridor was dark, but they saw lights coming from around a corner.

  “Bravic, you guard the caboose, and I’ll take point.”

  “What do you want me to guard?” Bravic grumbled.

  “I have the lead. My eyes are best.” Oieda slipped past Dean and started down the corridor.

  “Actually, my eyes are best,” Han said.

  “Just GO,” Dean shouted as the blade of an axe cut through the door.

  They all raced down the corridor. When they turned the corner, a servant with a torch darted through a door in the middle of the hallway.

  Dean pointed. “We should follow him.”

  “Let him flee. We need to leave here,” Oieda yelled. The sounds of fighting now came from all directions.

  “Why’s he running into a room?” Dean asked. “He must know another way out.”

  The four ran through the door just in time to see the servant trying to slide a floor panel back in place.

  “Grab him.” Han dove toward the tile.

  Han landed on the panel before it was fully back in place. The tile flipped, and Han and the servant disappeared.

  “Why doesn’t he ever wait?” Bravic said as they all ran forward.

  Dean pulled the panel the rest of the way out. Han stood at the bottom of a small shaft with a tunnel moving away from it.

  “Well, I kept him from shutting it,” Han yelled up to them as he rubbed his head.

  As they jumped down, they could see the servant’s torchlight bob down the corridor, quickly moving away.

  “Let’s hope this tunnel runs out of the city,” Dean said as they dropped down and Oieda put the panel back in place.

  The tunnel was relatively dry and ran straight. They traveled along it at a rapid pace, but the torchlight kept the same distance from them. Suddenly, the torchlight came to a stop.

  “He might be at a door and be warning someone,” Oieda shouted in panic.

  “Or locking it.” Dean sprinted forward.

  “Oh, I hope you die,” Han cursed.

  A scream filled the corridor and the light from up ahead fell to the ground.

  “I think he did,” Dean muttered.

  They ran to the end of the tunnel. There was a closed door and before it laid the body of the servant.

  “That was pretty weird, huh?” Dean whispered as they moved cautiously to the body.

  When they neared him, they could see the gleam of a needle sticking out of the handle on the door.

  “That greedy pig, Anganese, didn’t want anyone to get out of here except himself. He set a trap on the door.” Oieda pushed the door open with her spear.

  The door opened to a ladder. Dean went up first. A closed trapdoor was at the top. He grunted as he pushed the heavy plate open. He climbed out onto the top of a small hill. As the rest climbed out, they could see the city only a short distance away, engulfed in flames.

  “Let’s keep moving,” Dean said.

  As they ran through the night, monstrous catapults rained burning spheres down upon the city. The glow from the fire cast huge shadows against the trees. Screams drifted along the wind. They raced into the woods and headed north.

  Hurrying past the trees, they came to a wide trail. Oieda looked back at Dean and pointed down the trail with her spear. Dean nodded. The sounds of the siege faded, but Dean could still see the glow of the fires in the distance. The trail dipped lower as it ran between two hills covered in brush.

  Oieda froze. “Something is near,” she whispered. The companions drew their weapons.

  Suddenly a Krulg battle cry filled the air as the evil beasts sprang from behind the bushes where they’d lain in wait for fleeing victims of the onslaught. Two made it no farther than the middle of the bush as Han’s arrows struck them down. The four formed a circle as they prepared to face their attackers. Bravic swung his mighty axe and cleaved into the first Krulg, felling him with the blow. Dean blocked an attacker’s axe and cut up under its weapon; his sword struck bone and the Krulg screamed in pain as it flew back. Oieda’s spear thrust out in quick jabs as she riddled the Krulg in front of her with many wounds until it, too, fell.

  The Krulgs backed away, snarling and stamping the ground. The four companions stood back to back while the Krulgs circled them. They numbered close to twenty, and their wicked eyes gleamed in the fiery moonlight.

  “There are too many of them, my friends,” Bravic said. “We’ll die the deaths of warriors.”

  “How about ‘We’ll live the life of heroes’?” Dean crookedly grinned.

  One Krulg leaned his head back and screamed a loud battle cry. Instead of echoing off, it blended with howls from the woods. The Krulgs turned as many huge forms sprang at them from the forest. In the glow from the moon, the wolves’ eyes gleamed as they ripped into the Krulg’s ranks.

  “The wolves,” Han cried as he let two arrows fly into a Krulg.

  “We must save them!” Oieda gasped in panic as she leaped into the battle. Her spear darted here and there at the Krulg’s now unprotected backs.

  “Save them?” Dean drove his sword through a Krulg whose throat was in the maw of a massive wolf. “I don’t think they need—HAN!” Dean screamed as three Krulgs rushed the Elvana.

  An arrow pierced one’s chest. Dean’s sword cut the second one down but the third lunged and swung at Han’s head with his sword.

  Han ducked forward but the beast crashed into him. They tumbled together, and the Krulg scrambled to his feet.

  Han fumbled for his dagger, but it was caught underneath him. He finally freed it, but the Krulg’s axe swung up to strike him down. Han raised his little dagger, knowing he would never be able to block the blow.

  Spear, axe, and sword hit the Krulg from three separate directions. The creature crumpled to the ground. There was silence in the clearing, save for the breathing of the warriors and the wolves.

  Oieda walked before the leader of the wolves and scratched behind its ear. She said something that was too faint or in a tongue too strange for anyone except the beast to understand.

  “We will follow them.” She rose. “They will take us to safety.”

  “Anything you say, Doctor Dolittle.” Dean smiled.

  As they ran, Han howled in pain and fell for
ward.

  “That stupid, clumsy Krulg stepped on my ankle,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

  Bravic looked at the Elvana’s swelling ankle. “He can’t walk, let alone run. It’s not badly hurt, though.”

  Han winced at Bravic’s touch. “It feels badly hurt.”

  “We’ll have to carry him,” Dean said.

  Oieda leaned and whispered to the giant wolf. “No. It will slow us too much. She will carry him.” She pointed to the wolf.

  “You want me to ride a wolf?” Han’s eyes widened.

  “Don’t look a gift wolf in the mouth.” Dean cautiously set Han on the broad back of the wolf.

  The four set off with the pack. The three tried to keep up with the wolves’ rapid pace. The wolves slowed somewhat for them, but soon all three were soaked with sweat.

  Han anxiously hung on, trying not to pull too hard on the wolf’s fur.

  Oieda ran up alongside him. “Do not worry. You can hold on as tightly as you need.”

  “Okay.” Han nodded, but he was still very pale. “I’m not worried.”

  Dean saw Oieda look away to hide her smile. They ran for many hours at this steady pace. The lead wolf stopped occasionally to sniff the air and change direction. When they finally stopped, now many miles from the city, the three fell to the ground, panting. Han slid off the wolf’s back as it moved over to nuzzle Oieda.

  The Elf stroked its fur and whispered things only the two could understand as it licked her face. Then it raised its head and howled, and the pack disappeared into the woods.

  After they caught their breaths, the companions made camp. They slept under pine trees; everything they didn’t carry on them now burned in Modos. Dean rolled over on his pine needle bed and wrapped his leather jacket tighter around his body.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The Last of the Wardevar

  They traveled only a little distance over the next two days, for they were now without horses, and each had to take turns carrying Han. Their spirits were low due to the loss of equipment, the lack of food, and the gloomy weather. The days were especially gray with a constant mist. On the third day, Han was able to walk again, much to the delight of everyone except Bravic. Before, Han had been able to talk constantly in everyone’s ear. Now he leaned on Bravic solely for support, and since he was the closest in height, the Dwarf was the main audience for Han’s constant questions and tales.