The Cavalier Trilogy: Book 02 - The Rise of Malbeck

by Jason McWhirter

  Finally Allindrian halted in a small clearing and they set up camp for a quick rest. The group settled down under a canopy of black twisted branches. Dark moss hung from the trees like rotten skin on a corpse. The wood was too wet for a fire so they ate cold venison and chunks of cheese. The cold clean water tasted good. It seemed to wash away some of the slime of the place as it poured down their throats.

  Everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts in the unnerving silence. They had lost a lot of men, friends and comrades alike. And their surroundings didn’t bolster their confidence much. It was deathly silent. There were no birds, crickets, wind, nothing. The forest was completely still and it seemed to leech their very will to speak.

  Finally, the king looked up at the men around him. “We will make it,” he said, as if reading the doubt in their minds.

  Durgen grunted, slapping his axe blade as if survival was a forgone conclusion. “Sur’en we will, me blade has not yet bathed in enough blood.”

  “That was a difficult fight, but I will lead us from this place,” Allindrian added firmly.

  Jonas was thinking of Taleen and was paying little attention. He could almost hear her voice, and the absence of her presence suffocated his heart. It came and went but he just couldn’t shake the melancholy feeling of her loss, especially in these dismal surroundings which amplified his sorrow. It was hard for him to choke back his anger at himself and the world for her death.

  “Jonas, are you okay?” The distant sound of the king’s voice dragged Jonas from his thoughts.

  Jonas glanced up from the forest ground, seeing that everyone was staring at him with worried expressions. The king’s blue eyes looked at him intently, and they were filled with concern.

  “Are you okay? I was speaking to you,” the king said.

  “I’m sorry, Sire. I was lost in thought and I’m very tired.”

  “I understand. I was asking about your powers. How did you part that mist? I have never seen a cavalier with that skill.”

  “What I did was not Shyann’s magic,” he replied with a pause. “I am also a cognivant.”

  The king made no attempt to hide his surprise. “A cognivant? You are a rare man indeed. I have only met two in my life.”

  “And I none,” said Dandronis. “And I thank you for your healing. I’m afraid I would have bled to death if not for you.”

  Jonas nodded his head in acknowledgement.

  “We need a few hours of sleep. I will take the first watch. I do not think that I need to mention how important it is that the watch not fall asleep in this place,” Allindrian warned.

  “Wake me in an hour. I will take second watch,” the king said, leaning back and sprawling out on the ground. It didn’t take long before everyone was asleep, the fighting and physical exertion acting like heavy weights on their eyelids.

  Allindrian sat calmly on a dark moss covered log, alert, and sharpening a small hunter’s knife she wore in her boot.

  They had all taken their turns at watch and everyone was able to get a few hours of sleep. It was disheartening to awaken in the same setting as the one in which they had fallen asleep. Nothing had changed, the air was still cool and oppressive and their surroundings were ominous and filled with shadows. But their rest had not been interrupted and they were all thankful for that.

  The king was wiping a cloth over his blade while the rest of the group prepared for their day’s travels. Jonas, feeling much better from his rest, approached the king.

  “Sire, I would again like to apologize to you.”

  The king looked up, polishing the handle one last time before putting the cloth away. “No need, your apology was accepted. These are hard times, young warrior, and our emotions are running high. Do not fret it.”

  “Nonetheless, I’m sorry for my outburst. It was spoken from pain and anger and you did not deserve to be the target.”

  The king stood up from the black rock he was sitting on and faced Jonas. He was a good head taller and much broader in the shoulders and Jonas had to look up at him. He seemed so small standing next to this giant of a man.

  “I understand the outburst and I empathize with your loss…with your losses,” the king corrected himself as he gently rested his giant hand on Jonas’s shoulder. “I would like to thank you. You saved us back there. Your presence makes our chances for survival much greater, which puts me closer to my family, and for that I am extremely grateful.”

  “It is my duty, it is what Shyann has asked of me,” Jonas said simply.

  “And yet she picked you for a reason, which is why I thank you.” The king paused for a second before continuing. “Jonas, do you really not know why I am needed at Finarth?”

  “I do not, but I assume it is to help destroy Malbeck. What else could it be?”

  “I do not know. But I also do not know what one man can do to help when he has no kingdom anymore, no people to lead, nor an army to add to the Finarthian ranks. What you see here is all that I know I have left…a handful of Tarsinian warriors.” The men were now up, readying their equipment and watching their conversation with quick glances. “In what way are we to aid the army of Finarth against the might of Malbeck?”

  “Don’t ye forget to add Durgen the dwarf to your numbers.”

  “And a Blade Singer,” added Allindrian, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Jonas looked at the king, seeing the pain of loss in his face. It was hard for him to imagine what it would feel like to have lost your entire city, and to have your army and your people scattered across the lands being hunted by minions of the Forsworn. Not to mention your remaining family being alone in a strange city, more than likely being hunted by the same evil that was hunting them. It was a harrowing thought and it made Jonas’s losses seem smaller in comparison.

  “A wise warrior once told me to never underestimate the power of one,” Jonas said, thinking back to a conversation by a fire under a bright moon.

  “A wise sentiment and I know it holds value, but it is hard to feel its truth in these hard times. Who was this wise warrior?” asked the king.

  “Kiln, commander of the Finarthian forces.”

  The king’s smile disappeared. “Kiln? You know him? And he leads the Finarthian forces again?”

  “I do, and he does.”

  The king’s surprise was replaced by a smile as he clapped the cavalier on the shoulder. “That is good news. You are full of surprises, young cavalier. I would like to hear this story, but let’s save it for another time where we can enjoy our surroundings with good drink and cheer. We should be on our way, I long to leave this horrible place.”

  “And I as well,” mumbled Dandronis, gazing into the forest apprehensively.

  “Blade Singer, lead the way,” the king said, sheathing his blade on his back.

  They traveled as fast as Allindrian could guide them through the difficult terrain. Staying in a tight group, everyone remained on the alert, constantly scanning the underbrush and trees for possible attacks. They were tense, knowing that another confrontation could be disastrous. Every shadow held the possibility of death. That reality, along with physical exhaustion, was taking its toll on the men. The Hallows had a way of sucking anything positive from anyone desperate or foolish enough to enter, and a solemn feeling hung on everyone like a heavy coat.

  They traveled for most of the day, or night, whatever it was, luckily without mishap. Suddenly Allindrian raised her hand, quietly signaling them to stop. Everyone did and they stood tense with weapons drawn looking intently at the Blade Singer.

  She craned her head slowly to the side as if she were trying to hear something. Nobody moved as she turned to face the men, putting her finger slowly to her mouth, making the obvious signal to be silent.

  Raz, a young Tarsinian warrior, stood behind the giant form of his king and he did not notice Allindrian’s gesture. He was looking out towards the thick foliage flanking them, his eyes darting nervously from shrub to tree, searching the forest for an attacker.
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br />   “What does she see?” he whispered more to himself than to anyone, stepping further towards the trees to get a better look at his surroundings.

  Suddenly, faster than a striking snake, a tree limb shot from above, hitting the warrior in the chest. The sharp point of the scraggly limb punched through his armored chest, erupting out his back with an explosion of blood and gore. He was then lifted off the ground and up into the unseen canopy of the tree. Then all the branches from the two massive trees on either side moved down hungrily, freezing in the air above the group. It happened so quickly that by the time everyone blinked, the warrior was gone and the only thing left of him was his sword and a patch of wet scarlet on the ground.

  “Don’t move!” screamed Allindrian at once.

  Instantly a black branch jerked several paces toward her, freezing an arm’s length from her.

  Everyone was in shock from the attack and they were just getting ready to react when Allindrian’s voice had made them freeze. Two, however, did not.

  Kilius, who was closest to the slain warrior, reacted on instinct. He jumped away from the branches hoping to distance himself from the attacker, whatever it might be.

  “Do not move! It hunts on movement! Stay still!” Allindrian yelled again, keeping her body totally still.

  “No!” screamed Myrell as Kilius moved away from the hovering branches.

  A veteran warrior named Palick also reacted. He ran forward under the branches, attacking the trunk of the tree with his drawn sword.

  Everything was a blur as the branches reacted to the movement, shooting down with incredible speed. One branch bolted towards Kilius as he leaped away. Kilius frantically dodged the sharp point of the descending branch, swiping his blade across the attacking limb. His sword did no damage that anyone could see.

  “Kilius, stop moving!” Jonas roared. It was all he could do to not help the youth, but it was obvious that the creature was attacking anything that moved, and there were plenty of limbs above them to take care of them all.

  Palick’s movement doomed him. He attacked with a scream, hitting the trunk with his sword. The blade bounced off the trunk, barely breaking through the protective skin, or bark, whatever it was. But he didn’t have time for a second strike. Two wicked looking limbs came down quickly from above, punching through his back. They lifted his screaming form into the air and then each limb pulled outwards completely ripping him in two. His mangled body fell to the ground near them with a sick wet thud.

  Palick’s final scream seemed to get through to Kilius and he finally stopped moving. A thick limb covered with sharp spikes shot down towards the young man just as he froze. Kilius used all his mental strength to stay still as the limb short towards him like a ballista bolt. He closed his eyes half expecting the limb to shatter his body.

  “No!” Myrell screamed again as the branch descended.

  Then it just stopped. Kilius slowly opened his eyes to see the limb no more than a hand’s span from his face. Then, as fast as it descended, it shot back up, hovering above them. His eyes were wide with fright and his breathing came in anxious gasps, his arms held wide and visibly shaking.

  “Blade Singer, what manner of beast is this?” The king whispered slowly, trying to keep the movement of his mouth very slow.

  “It is an eecap, a stationary monster that hunts prey by movement. I think there are two of them. Once it kills its victim then it uses vines to suck the blood from the flesh.”

  As if the eecap were listening, suddenly a bunch of black vines snaked down the trunk moving across the ground towards Palick’s body. They stopped before it and the ends of the vines, like snakes, lifted up off the ground and shot forward like a striking adder.

  “The vines sense, or smell, the blood,” Allindrian explained.

  The vines were digging into Palick’s flesh. They began to convulse and undulate as their comrade’s blood was quickly drained from his body.

  “How do we kill it?” asked Fil in disgust.

  “I do not know,” she said flatly. “They are very rare and I have never fought one.”

  Just then the body of Raz fell from the canopy above, landing with a thud at their feet. The young warrior’s body, sucked dry of its fluids, resembled a skeleton wrapped with white skin.

  Jonas looked up at the limbs and for the first time noticed that they were not limbs at all. They were arms, many of them, and they looked just like the many branches that they had seen in the strange trees all around them. But the ends were capped with sharp black spikes. In fact, pointed spikes covered all of the limbs and more than a handful were as long as a man’s arm.

  And the thing was fast. If they tried to flee there was no way they could outrun the deadly barrage of spikes that would come for them. Jonas glanced at the eecap’s trunk, noticing that it was a bit different than the other trees. It rippled slightly and it shuddered as the blood from its victims poured into it.

  “What do we do?” asked Kilius slowly, the shock from his near death experience straining his voice.

  “Cavalier, what about your fire?” asked the king.

  The same idea had come to Jonas and it seemed like the only attack that might harm the monster, but that was the problem, it might harm the monster.

  “I was thinking of that as well. If we run, we will die. That thing is too fast. I do not think that our weapons will do much damage either,” Jonas said, slowly looking up at the branches hovering menacingly above them.

  One twitched, descending towards Jonas and halting only an arm’s length away. The movement was so quick that they barely registered it, but it was obvious that it had sensed Jonas somehow. Maybe he had spoken too quickly. Jonas stopped talking regardless, staring at the branch and the glistening black spike. His heart was pounding and he could feel his hands start to shake.

  He closed his eyes, calming his mind, and slowing his heart rate in order to enter the state of Ty’erm. After a few moments he opened his eyes feeling more alert, calm, and ready to deal with the situation.

  “Jonas, if your fire doesn’t work then you will be torn to pieces. There has to be another way,” pleaded Myrell.

  Everyone was silent for what seemed like an eternity. They were trying to think of a way out of their predicament that didn’t end with someone dying.

  “I can think of no other way,” Jonas finally replied.

  “Nor I,” stated Durgen.

  “Jonas, can you discharge your fire as an explosion all around you?” asked Allindrian.

  “I don’t know, maybe. I’ve never done it before.”

  “But that will burn us all to ash,” Dandronis said, stating the obvious.

  “Not if we are protected by a sphere of energy,” Allindrian said, posing the statement as a question and looking directly at Jonas.

  Jonas caught on to Allindrian’s idea, but his confidence began to slip away as he realized what she was asking of him.

  “Jonas, can you hold a cognivant shield and release your God Fire at the same time?” Fil asked, unable to hide the fear in his voice.

  It took Jonas a few moments before he answered.

  “I do not know. Allindrian, you are asking me to try something that I’ve never done. And the result of failure will be all our deaths. I don’t know if I can do that,” he said as fear began to creep back into his heart.

  “Jonas, if we move, we die. I can think of no other solution. You must try,” said the king. His voice was calm and filled with a confidence that Jonas did not feel.

  Jonas breathed deeply, forcing the fear from his mind. He concentrated on Ty’erm again, keeping his center and tucking his emotions away so as not to hamper his actions. He could not let any doubt enter his mind if he was going to attempt this.

  “If I do this then I must get everyone’s approval. I will not risk any of your lives without it. So what say you?” Jonas asked the group.

  Although Fil and Myrell were both reluctant, everyone voiced their approval. There seemed to be no other way. />
  “You can do it, Jonas,” Fil added.

  “We trust you,” Myrell said, her voice tight with anxiety.

  So Jonas closed his eyes, taking several deep slow breaths. The first thing he did was concentrate on the energy surrounding him. The task would be difficult even in their own plane of existence, but in the Hallows, in this warped and twisted place, it could likely be impossible. But they were all correct, he had to try. There were no other options available to them.

  The swirling energy didn’t have any patterns here. Jonas was forced to expend more of his own energy to harness it, which took more time. But he focused every ounce of his will on forming an invisible shield over him. Once he had created it he opened his eyes, letting out a long breath. Creating the weave of the shield was what took most of the time and energy, but once it was built, holding it intact required much less of his power and concentration.

  “I’m going to move forward now to get closer to the tree and distance myself from you. Don’t worry, I am protected,” he said calmly, so they would all know what he was doing.

  He then quickly ran forward, and as he did so the spikes came crashing down. Even though they were expecting it, the movement almost caused the rest of them to jump. They exhaled a sigh of relief as the spikes smacked against an invisible barrier just above Jonas. As he came to a standstill, the branches moved back up to their resting positions.

  Now came the difficult part. Jonas released the energy above him, reaching out for more. His mind was a giant vacuum drawing in all the available energy around them. He had to create a large shield to cover them all and it took him a while to gather enough to weave the protective barrier.

  Jonas’s head was pounding fiercely, but he pushed the pain away, hiding it deep in his subconscious, all the while finishing the last touches of the shield. He didn’t bother telling them that he couldn’t include himself under the shield or he would not be able to release the flames. He had to hope that the fire would be enough to protect him.