PURE OF HEART

by Christopher Greyson

  Oieda rushed back to Dean’s side. “Do you always have to enrage your enemies?” she whispered.

  Dean’s smirk vanished. “Get ready to run. I’ll catch up to you guys.”

  “Do you intend to fight them all?” Oieda grabbed his arm.

  “I’ll stall and give you guys a head start. I’m fastest, remember?” He tried to smile, but when he looked from Norouk and the Vereortu to his companions, his heart sank. Bravic was slowest. He’d never make it out of the valley unless Dean distracted the Vereortu. “I’ll run for the front of the valley and try to get them to come after me.”

  “Come forward,” Norouk called out. “Kneel at my feet and surrender.”

  “Let’s keep this between you and me. Maybe we can work this out,” Dean replied as he stepped forward.

  Oieda grabbed his arm. “Dean, wait.” Her body pressed against his.

  Dean looked down into her green eyes, filled with concern. As he peered closer, he could see little flecks of gold in the emerald green. His eyes traveled down to her lips. He tilted his head and leaned in to kiss her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as her lip curled.

  Dean felt her press Graylen’s shield against his hand.

  He cleared his throat. “I thought you were going to ki— Uh, thanks.” He grabbed the shield and rolled his shoulders.

  “Come forward,” Norouk bellowed. “Or are you afraid?”

  “You’re a big tough guy with a hundred guys backing you up. I bet you’re too cowardly to fight without your little twitchy friends,” Dean said, keeping the front of the shield faced away from Norouk. Dean glanced at Oieda and whispered, “Still, get ready to run.”

  “You dare taunt me, boy?” Norouk screamed in rage, and the Vereortu cackled in glee. “You think you’re man enough to fight a warrior such as me?” The veins in his neck bulged.

  “Man enough? I wouldn’t ask a dog to lower himself to fight you.” Dean held his hands out to the side, his sword pointed down and Graylen’s shield faced backward. “I think you’re all talk. If it wasn’t for your fear freaks, you’d be sucking your thumb and running away. I bet you’re wearing a diaper under that armor. That’s why it’s so yellow.”

  Han laughed.

  The Vereortu lifted their hands and clicked their claws together.

  Dean’s blood ran cold, and his stomach twisted.

  “Hold your ground,” Oieda snarled. “They cause this fear. Fight it.”

  Dean glanced back at his companions. They were pale, but they drew their weapons. He shook his head. “Just me and him,” Dean said.

  “Stay back,” Norouk ordered the Vereortu. “This is my fight.”

  “You fighting your own battles? I guess there’s a first time for everything.” Dean continued to walk forward as Norouk stomped out to meet him.

  “It’s a pity that Volsur wants you all alive,” Norouk said. “But he didn’t say I had to bring your friends back with all of their limbs.” Norouk smiled as he looked back at Oieda and the others.

  Dean’s chest tightened. He stopped when ten feet separated them. “Your fight is with me.”

  “You come to fight me, and you don’t even know how to hold a shield,” Norouk sneered.

  “You want to see my shield?” Dean asked with a cold smirk. Dean spun the shield around and held it before him.

  Norouk laughed.

  Dean looked down at the shield, but nothing happened. “Crud. What gives?”

  “Look out,” Oieda screamed.

  Norouk stepped forward and swung his sword at Dean’s head.

  Dean raised his shield just in time. The blow rang off the metal, and Dean stumbled backward.

  “Nothing happened!” Han yelled.

  “I know,” Dean called back. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Norouk swung straight down, and Dean danced out of the way.

  “Repeat the words,” Bravic said.

  “Shake it around!” Oieda yelled.

  “Shake it?” Dean rolled his eyes as he circled Norouk. “Like that will help.”

  “You could try it.” Oieda threw her hands up.

  “You’re in the wrong spot!” Han yelled.

  Norouk lunged forward.

  Dean blocked one blow with his shield and the next with his sword.

  The Vereortu cheered as Dean staggered to the side from the force of the blow.

  “You’re no match for me,” Norouk sneered.

  “What spot should I be in?” Dean asked as he raised his shield and grimaced. His bicep throbbed, and the heavy shield was quickly tiring him.

  “Up on that rock.” Han was now jumping up and down and pointing.

  Dean looked over at a huge rock more than fifty yards away. The top of the rock was twenty feet in the air. A stone slope ran from the valley floor to a wide flat area on top.

  “That’s the spot,” Han screamed. “That’s where he killed Graylen.”

  At the mention of the name, Norouk turned to glare at the Elvana. He pointed his sword toward Han. “How do you know that name?” he demanded, taking a step forward.

  Dean looked from the rock to Norouk’s partially turned back and took three huge strides.

  Norouk started to spin around.

  Dean lowered the shield and smashed into him.

  Norouk flew backward and crashed to the ground.

  Dean looked at the Vereortu who formed a circle around them as they watched the fight. “Bravic, I need to get to that rock.”

  “Then you will,” Bravic roared as he charged forward. “Follow me!”

  Bravic swung his ax in a huge arc, and the Vereortu darted out of the way. Dean moved behind him and Han darted behind Dean.

  Oieda took the rear. Her spear flashed out. Vereortu screamed and shrieked, but they stayed back from the Elven warrior with the blazing green eyes.

  “Get them! Do not kill them, but stop them,” Norouk commanded as he rose to his feet.

  Han fired shot after shot in front of them. Vereortu fell screaming.

  Bravic’s axe swept two aside. The Vereortu shrieked and rushed the Dwarf from all sides. Two jumped on his back. Bravic let out a loud battle cry. “RUN!” he bellowed. Bravic leaned forward and charged, dragging the Vereortu with him before he collapsed onto the ground.

  Oieda spun around and jumped in front of Dean.

  Han shifted to the back.

  Dean’s sword cut down another. Oieda swept several Vereortu out of the way. Her spear cut a path through the Vereortu toward the rock.

  Han shot one at point blank range. The beast’s body crashed into his, and Han stumbled back. Another creature lunged forward and knocked Han’s bow from his hand.

  Dean’s sword killed the Vereortu that clawed at Han’s throat.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Han said as he drew his dagger. “Get to the spot!” His little blade sliced into a Vereortu who grabbed his wrist.

  Oieda’s spear drove through one Vereortu and stuck fast. She set her foot against its chest and ripped her spear free.

  “Duck!” Dean yelled as a Vereortu leaped at her.

  Oieda crouched, and Dean’s sword hacked the Vereortu who collapsed to the ground.

  They were now only ten yards from the ramp.

  Han tumbled forward as two Vereortu grabbed him.

  “STOP THEM!” Norouk ordered as he pushed Vereortu out of his way. “They have Greylan’s shield!”

  Oieda growled as a Vereortu clutched her spear. “Keep going!” she screamed at Dean as her dagger sunk into the creature’s chest.

  Dean ran by her. Two Vereortu blocked his way. He smashed one aside with his shield and he cut down the other with his sword. His heart caught in his throat as he heard Oieda scream in rage. He glanced back. The horde of Vereortu had dragged down his three companions.

  The Vereortu punched and kicked them. Bravic struggled to rise. Han’s little hands tried to cover his head as the beasts stomped him.

  One pulled back Oieda’s braid and
punched her in the face. She elbowed the creature in the mouth. Her eyes locked with his. “RUN!”

  Dean continued to sprint up the slope. A Vereortu grabbed his legs. Dean tumbled to the ground but held onto the shield.

  Several more Vereortu rushed to grab him. He kicked one and sent it screaming off the rock. Clawed hands seized his legs and reached for his arms. He smashed one with the shield. Another one pinned his sword arm to the ground.

  Dean looked at the top of the rock still ten yards away.

  Two more Vereortu jumped on his legs.

  Dean threw the shield. Everyone watched it sail through the air. The metal clanged as it bounced off the rock twice. The shield rolled a few feet into a sandy area and fell flat.

  Everyone stopped. The valley was silent as everyone looked at the shield and waited.

  Nothing happened.

  Norouk rushed up the ramp, looking down at Dean as he raced by him. Dean could see the fear in his eyes. Norouk stopped, bent at the waist, and peered at the shield like it was a snake, coiled to spring. He turned back to Dean and exhaled.

  “It’s Greylan’s shield,” he mumbled as he pushed it with his boot, “but nothing happened.” He chuckled.

  A murmur ran through the ranks of the Vereortu.

  Norouk tipped his head back and laughed. His laughter rang off the walls of the valley. The Vereortu joined in, laughing in wicked chirps and shrieks that grew so loud Dean would have covered his ears if his arms weren’t pinned down by the creatures.

  Dean’s eyes widened as the shield slowly began to glow.

  Norouk saw Dean’s eyes, and the smile froze on his face. He looked down at the shield. His lips twitched. His mouth clamped closed.

  The shield began to shine; the light quickly grew until the whole shield was wrapped in a golden radiance that shifted and pulsed.

  Norouk screamed in horror as he stared, transfixed, at the rune-covered shield.

  The shield burst into a blinding light that filled the valley.

  A deafening cheer rose from a thousand human voices. Dean’s mouth opened as he looked around at an army of warriors. One standing above Dean turned his head and stared at Dean.

  “Thank you.” The silver-haired man gave a sweeping bow. “This fight is no longer yours. It’s ours.” The man drew a silver sword and turned to face Norouk.

  “Graylen?” Norouk asked with horror and disbelief in his voice. “Coren?”

  A young man moved to stand beside Graylen. His armor was dented and battered, but he had a regal bearing.

  “Norouk.” Coren raised his hand, and the men behind him drew their swords.

  “Coren, wait,” Norouk pleaded. “Let me explain. I let Graylen have his last words. Give me mine. Let me explain.”

  Coren stepped forward. “Traitors don’t deserve last words.” Coren’s sword drove straight through Norouk’s breast.

  As Norouk slumped to the ground, a deafening roar came from the warriors. They raised their swords and attacked their murderers. The four companions turned their eyes from the carnage as the warriors of Wardevar crushed all of the Vereortu in only a few gruesome minutes. When the last of the Vereortu fell, the warriors cheered in a triumphant call that swelled into a gust. The warriors stamped their feet and cried louder. The gust turned into a gale that swept about the companions and blinded them with the flying sands.

  Dean shielded his face as the sand blasted against his skin. The swirling wind’s shriek grew so loud that he pressed his hands over his ears and tucked his chin against his chest.

  As suddenly as the wind started, it stopped. As they looked around, they saw the valley floor swept smooth, with no trace of Norouk, the Vereortu, the Wardevar, Graylen, or Coren.

  A faint sound at the end of the valley made them turn. The sound grew louder until they could hear singing. They couldn’t make out the words of the song, but they rose beautifully into the air. Slowly the singing faded away, except for the last lingering notes that echoed softly through the valley.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The Lion Man

  Dean awoke with a start. It was midday, and he’d only slept for a couple of hours, but the events of the morning seemed to have taken place long before. As he looked up at the sky, he saw it was again filled with black clouds, only they now seemed nearer and darker. He woke the others and turned to look to the north, over the woods that stretched before them. Soon, they would be at Volsur’s. Naviak.

  The others were soon ready to move, though they were still weary. As they looked at Dean, he straightened up and walked forward. He didn’t have a plan yet, but he didn’t want to tell them that.

  They decided to travel through the woods and not on the main road. Oieda led the way as they silently slipped between the trees like shadows wrapped around the trunks. The days were cheerless, for they spoke little, whether because of the foul, cold, black days or their thoughts about what would soon happen. The nights were pitch-black; no stars shined, and no wind stirred the trees. The woods were filled with invisible creatures who moved and chattered in the darkness. They chanced no fire and slept little.

  On the sixth day, the woods thinned and the clouds seemed to lower. As the shadows of day lengthened, they could see the lights of the city ahead. They stopped to camp and to plan. They all tried to think of different ways to come into the city. They talked long into the night. A great sense of urgency pressed on their minds. In the end, it was Dean who decided to go right into Naviak. Now, outside, there were too many things that could only be guessed at. The only way they could make a plan was to get inside and look around.

  They sat in a circle on the ground, and Dean drew a large circle with a stick. He drew a gate with a stick figure next to it. “This is Naviak. Dalvin said the city itself was guarded by humans.”

  “Filthy traitors.” Oieda spat on the stick figure.

  “That’s kinda gross but funny.” Han grinned. “Why does Volsur have humans watch the city?”

  “Because Krulgs would kill the slaves too often,” Bravic said.

  “Slaves?” Dean asked.

  “Under Volsur’s rule, there are two options: soldier or slave,” Bravic explained.

  “Dalvin had no idea about the number of soldiers but he said they’re human. The Krulgs and Varlugs stay out of the city, so it’s almost all humans. That works for us too.”

  “How?” Oieda asked.

  “We try to blend in,” Dean said. “You know, when in Rome . . .”

  “Rome?” Han asked as everyone looked quizzically up at Dean.

  “It’s a city in my world . . . oh, skip it. We have to act like them. Blend in. Instead of skins, now we have to wear masks.”

  “That means you keep your big mouth closed.” Bravic pointed at Han.

  Han sat up straighter but pressed his lips together.

  “Good work, already.” Oieda patted Han on the back, and Han smirked at Bravic.

  “The castle’s a different story,” Dean continued. “Dalvin said it’s guarded by Krulgs and Varlugs. He doesn’t know how many, but I don’t think it will be a lot.”

  “Why? It’s his castle now. Wouldn’t he surround himself with an army?” Bravic asked.

  “It’s Volsur we’re talking about,” Dean said. “He’s prideful. I bet he thinks he doesn’t need an army around himself.”

  “It still will not be easy,” Oieda said.

  Dean nodded. “This might be a stupid question, but I have to ask it. Tomorrow we’ll be in Naviak. I don’t have a plan for how to get in besides just walking through the gate. I also don’t have a plan for how to get out. What I’m saying is . . . if we do make it to Volsur, I don’t see any of us making it back out.”

  “We know, Dean.” Oieda had a puzzled look on her face.

  “What I’m saying . . . we might die. I might get you all killed, and I really don’t know if it’s fair for me to ask that from you.”

  “You never asked me. I said I was coming.” Han leapt to his feet.

/>   “I told you I was coming. I’ll tell you again, too, if you have any crazy notion of trying to leave me behind,” Bravic growled.

  “Dean. We all came with you because we chose to. If we must die to defeat Volsur, then we must die.” Oieda walked next to Dean.

  “Then we’ll all go?”

  The three nodded their heads. That night they slept little, if at all. They stared at the few lights that still burned in Naviak, Volsur’s stronghold, the end of their journey.

  They woke to a morning almost as black as the night. A thick fog lay all around and seemed to press into them. They ate nothing. The few supplies Dalvin could spare were exhausted. With heavy hearts and light stomachs, they started on their way toward Naviak. In a few miles they came to a dirt road where people pushed their rickety carts toward the city. Their clothes were tattered and worn, and their forlorn faces were downcast.

  Although their carts were light with what little belongings they had, they pushed them as if they were heavily loaded. The companions tried not to look at the bleak faces that stared at them with despairing eyes and marched down the road in silence. The wall around the city rose as they approached. Over the enormous bulwark, they could see buildings of stone and wood outlined in the gray fog.

  At the immense open iron gates, a group of human soldiers stood bleary-eyed and leaning against the wall. Their armor was as dirty as their unshaven faces.

  The companions crossed underneath the gate, and the world seemed to get darker; the fog became thicker and blacker. They passed through streets filled with people, going about their lives beneath the buildings that loomed overhead, trapping the fog in some wicked union.

  Coming toward the center of the city, the streets opened to a large marketplace already filled with people. Booths that sold all types of material, none that appeared clean or well made, were scattered about like the people who shopped them. In the center of the market a small crowd gathered around a makeshift wooden stage. A thin man dressed in rich blue robes stood on the platform shouting something down to the crowd.