The Jewel of Equilibrant w-1

by Steven Frankos

  For no apparent reason, a smirk drew across his face.

  "So this is Matthew Logan."

  The silver chestplated Reakthi nodded.

  "So, Groathit," growled Moknay, "who's your friend?"

  The black-chestplated man smiled. "Allow me to introduce myself: I am Vaugen."

  •6• Imperator

  The foliage rustled and four horsemen emerged beside Vaugen and Groathit, their chestplates blazing in the morning light. Logan heard more hooves to his left and pivoted about to see eight more men flank them. Another eight sprouted like weeds on their right, and five more horses blocked the rear, their riders certain they had boxed in their quarry.

  Moknay's grey eyes leapt from Reakthi to Reakthi, his fingers twitching around the daggers he held. "I fear we are in trouble," he noticed, his grim expression growing even fouler.

  Twenty-five Reakthi, Logan counted, plus Groathit and Vaugen! What could be so important about Logan that the Reakthi Imperator would leave the safety of his castle and come after him himself? That just didn't make sense to the young man as he sat and gaped at the warriors surrounding him.

  Descending upon invisible wings at the most inappropriate of times, the feeling of disunion hovered about Logan's head.

  Vaugen leaned forward on his dark horse, his grey eyes boring into Logan's blue ones. "I must congratulate you, Matthew Logan, for being the only man to anger Groathit and still be alive." He paused a moment to give the half-blinded spellcaster a snide glance. "It was so unfortunate that you took up sides; you and I are so very much alike-we would have gotten along so well. And besides, we had need of you." The Imperator stroked his chin. "Still, you do have something that may be of value to us."

  Cocky little bastard, isn't he? Logan asked himself, clenching his teeth as Vaugen held out a scarred hand.

  "The Jewel, Matthew Logan," he said softly. "Give me the Jewel."

  "Blow it out your ear," the young man retorted, searching desperately for any breach in the Reakthi ring.

  Vaugen turned to Groathit as if expecting a translation of Logan's statement. Gradually, he turned back to face the young man and his companions.

  Pure, undiluted fear ran through Logan's veins as he looked to his friends for aid. A ferocious frown was drawn upon Thromar's brow as he glared at the twenty-five soldiers, his sword eager to spill their blood and longing to taste Vaugen's flesh. Moknay still held his daggers, and his grey eyes blazed an unspoken command when Logan glanced at him. Ignoring the sensation of misplacement, Logan swung around to see Vaugen gazing at him expectantly, but Groathit's eye was fueled by impatience.

  "Well?" the spellcaster snapped. "Where is it? Hand it over, whelp!"

  "Kiss my ass!" Logan hollered, brutally jerking back on his horse's reins as he withdrew his Reakthi sword.

  Two daggers flashed from Moknay's hands, and the men on either side of Vaugen went down. Emitting a lustful war cry, Thromar charged Smeea directly into a band of warriors, his massive sword catching the light as it sliced through flesh, veins, and internal organs.

  "This way!" the huge fighter roared. "Head back!"

  "Stop them!" demanded Vaugen.

  Several moments of chaos followed. Horses screamed and reared, swords slid free of their Reakthi sheaths, and blood released its coppery smell into the air. Two Reakthi crashed to the ground, knocked from their horses by Thromar's insane charge. Munuc let out a fearful shriek and vanished into the trees. Logan, his horse turned, lashed out blindly with his blade, drawing a bloody gash across a soldier's face.

  "They are converging on us!" he heard Druid Launce cry. "We shall surely be cut down!"

  Silver glared in the sunlight, and Logan threw up his sword to ward the blow aside. Metal clanged, and hooves rent the air behind him as Logan frantically turned about in his crude saddle. He was just barely able to dodge the flail that whistled above his head, and his own weapon shot out, catching the Reakthi under the chin and skewering his jaw. Droplets of crimson spattered the young man's hands as he whipped around again, trying to spot his companions in the swelling tide of chestplates and weapons.

  "Moknay!" Logan heard Thromar warn. "Watch your back!"

  There was a gurgling scream somewhere from within the hubbub, and Logan hoped it was not Moknay. White hot pain blazed upon his left arm, and Logan jerked about, stunned by the sight of his own blood bubbling up from between torn flesh. Instantly, the pain transformed to anger, and Logan grasped his sword in both hands. With a furious sweep of his blade, Logan dismembered the Reakthi to his left, sneering in satisfaction as the sword arm dropped to the dirt in a shower of blood.

  "An opening!" Druid Launce exclaimed, smacking his heavy staff against a Reakthi's skull.

  Cursing under his breath, Logan attempted to bring his horse around as he saw the young druid bolt free of the swarming Reakthi. The pain in his arm and the feeling of wrongness in his ears gave Logan the strength necessary to cut a gruesome path toward the druid. Shouting joyfully, Thromar and Smeea rammed through the chestplated warriors, also finding the safety of the forest. Logan was close enough to take advantage of the hole made by the fighter and dashed through the clustering soldiers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Moknay beside him, his grey clothing spotted with Reakthi blood.

  "Stop them!" Groathit screeched, the veins on his neck popping out. "Stop them or I shall have your heads to decorate my walls!"

  Vaugen gave the wizard a malicious glare. "I am the Imperator, not you. Why aren't you earning your rank, spellcaster?"

  The magician snarled furiously to himself, kicking at his horse's flanks as he followed the fleeing quartet. Reakthi rode on either side and before the wizard, their weapons flailing and curses flying at their prey. Gesticulating wildly, Groathit could hear Vaugen's horse thundering behind him, the Imperator yelling orders at his men.

  Ebony sparks crackled at the spellcaster's fingertips, and a ghastly smile drew across his face as he spied Logan and Moknay through the trees. Death-black rays screamed from his hands, sizzling the air as they howled for the two.

  Nausea gripped Logan and bile rose in his throat as the feeling of displacement became overwhelming. The buzz increased a thousandfold, and the young man clamped his hands to either side of his head. This could not be the normal buzz of wrongness, he decided. The only other time he had felt this badly was back when Groathit had attacked him in the tavern.

  Uncommonly disturbed, Logan risked a quick glance over his shoulder and spied the twin rays of death. For a second he entertained the thought of leaping from his horse, but then there was no time. Something sliced the air beside him, and the coal-black beams struck.

  The immensely powerful sensation remained with Logan as the Reakthi directly beside him dropped his weapon and screamed. His golden chestplate sagged, and the skin of his face and hands went taut before vanishing entirely. Muscles and internal organs erupted in explosive bursts of ebony energy, and only then did the screaming stop.

  The chestplated skeleton crashed to the ground and splintered beneath the many horses' hooves.

  "Groathit, you bungler!" barked Vaugen. "Them! Not my men!"

  Groathit's eye flared malevolently, but he said nothing.

  "Friend-Logan?" Thromar inquired without looking back. "Are you all right?"

  Logan wiped his forehead and winced as perspiration trickled into his wound. "Sort of," he gasped. "Felt sick for a minute there."

  "… thirteen… fourteen!" Moknay murmured; he laughed. "We downed or disabled eleven of them and got out of that skirmish alive!"

  An arrow whined beside Thromar's ear. "Had to open your mouth, eh, Murderer?"

  A second arrow thunked into a tree as Logan passed by.

  "Munuc," Launce was moaning, "where have you gone? Why have you forsaken your friends?"

  "Much good he'd be," Moknay replied, instinctively ducking as an arrow shrieked by his shoulder. "He would have been slain immediately."

  "He did the right thing by fleeing," agr
eed Thromar.

  Logan dodged a low-hanging branch as an arrow struck the bark and ricocheted off. Smeea almost toppled as another wooden shaft whizzed free of the forest and skinned her rump.

  Pursuing hooves reached Logan's ears, and he glimpsed over his shoulder to see four Reakthi, bows in their hands. "They're gaining on us!" he cried.

  "Best Reakthi archers I've ever run into," Thromar muttered, affectionately patting Smeea on the neck as he rode.

  Another rain of arrows drizzled down upon them, and Druid Launce cried out, a shaft tearing into the side of his robe. Wincing in empathetic pain, Logan remembered the Jewel in the saddlebags and decided it best to personally guard it. He sheathed his sword and reached carefully behind him for the bags, attempting to flip open the lid as his mount continued its frenzied pace. After a few tries, Logan succeeded and reached a hand in to withdraw the Jewel's pouch. As he pulled it free, an arrow burrowed into the saddlebag, startling Logan so that he lost his precarious grip upon the Jewel. The leather sack slipped and fell from Logan's hand, and the young man cried out as he grasped frantically at the air. By an amazing stroke of luck, one of the leather strings knotting the bag closed became caught between the young man's first and middle fingers, and he retained his grip on the Jewel, pulling it close to his chest and finally remembering to breathe once again.

  "Launce!" Thromar boomed. "Are you badly hurt?"

  The druid clenched his teeth. "Continue on," he ground out. "We must get the Jewel to safety."

  Moknay swiveled his head about, squinting as if unfamiliar with the terrain. "Thromar," he shouted, "just where in Imogen's name are we heading? I've lost all sense of direction!"

  Thromar smiled his crooked, yellowing grin. "We've pulled a sneaky turn on the Reakthi scum," he boasted. "They forced us a bit north, but now we're heading west again."

  "Damn!" spat the Murderer. "I was afraid of that!"

  Logan tightened his hold upon the Jewel. "Huh?" he wondered. "I thought we wanted to go west."

  "We're heading directly for the Roana," Moknay explained, his grey eyes lit with dread. "We can't possibly ford the river with the Reakthi on our heels. They'll shoot us down before we're halfway across!"

  "What can we do?" Logan queried, still able to see the quartet of archers pursuing them.

  "Stand and fight!" roared Thromar boldly. "We can crush the Reakthi slime! Just give me one swing at that harpy turd Vaugen! Wham! Off goes his head!"

  "That may be our only alternative," the Murderer grumbled, "but Druid Launce is wounded, and someone would have to carry the Jewel to safety."

  "Why don't we give Launce the Jewel?" Thromar suggested.

  Logan meant to protest but decided against it. He still did not trust the druid-not after the harsh lesson he had learned at Agellic's Church. Mara had been injured protecting Logan from Riva's greed, and Logan had not given the blonde priestess a second thought when he had first seen her. He did not want to make the same mistake twice.

  "I stand with you!" Launce proclaimed, drowning out Logan's musings. "I will not leave!"

  "But you've got an arrow…" Moknay began.

  A determined expression contorted the druid's usually calm mien as he brought his horse about and charged back the way they had come. His blood-spattered staff was raised high above his head.

  "Hey!" Thromar bellowed. "What are you doing?"

  "Proving my friendship!" the druid snapped back.

  Thromar, Moknay, and Logan all slowed their mounts to a stop as they stared in astonishment at the suicidal druid. The buzz in his head began to intensify as Logan gawked at the forest which had come alive. Launce's staff flickered with magical energies as strings of ivy rose up like serpents of green, wavering and coiling. Branches shuddered fitfully, and bushes rustled as if defiled by a strong, nonexistent wind.

  The four Reakthi cried out, the leading soldier jerked from his mount by writhing ivy. Two others crashed to the earth, dismounted by a branch that had not been there seconds before. The fourth warrior reined in his horse, keeping himself out of reach of the animated vegetation.

  "How in all of Sparrill did you manage that?" Thromar blurted.

  Druid Launce rejoined his companions, urging his mount forward. "If we survive, remind me to tell you," he said, smiling faintly.

  "Plants won't stop them," Moknay surmised, "but it will slow them up. Perhaps you've given us enough time to get across the Roana."

  "Then again, perhaps not," Logan mumbled to himself, exceedingly pessimistic.

  The four colorful horses raced onward, outdistancing Groathit's curses and Vaugen's orders. Sparkling light struck Logan full in the face as his green-and-yellow mount burst free of the foliage, galloping for the clear, clean Roana. The water was crystal blue, gurgling softly as it wound its way downstream. Its banks were lined with smooth rocks clad in mossy coats, and bright waterplants dotted the river.

  Screaming, an arrow ripped through Moknay's cape and splashed into the Roana.

  "Dung!" the Murderer cursed. "That was damn close!" He swung his horse about to face the forest.

  Thromar brandished his bloody blade. "Friend-Logan, you can still make it across safely! We'll see to the Reakthi vermin!"

  Logan turned his horse sideways, glancing at the opposite bank of the river that seemed so very far away. Maybe he could make it across safely, but what of his friends? He couldn't leave Moknay and Thromar to be slain by the Reakthi-not after all they had done for him! But he didn't want to die. Maybe they did have a fighting chance if they banded together, but against fourteen armored soldiers-many with long-range weapons-it was not very much of a chance.

  The first Reakthi archer thundered free of the forest, an arrow twanging from his bow. Moknay let out a strangled curse and threw himself from his horse to escape the shaft. As the Murderer rolled through his dive, the Reakthi drew in his mount and reached back for another arrow. His back arched unexpectedly, and a garbled cry rose in his throat. He flopped to trie ground, dead, a dagger lodged in his neck.

  Moknay leapt to his feet, eyes narrowed angrily. He caught a glimpse of the Reakthi archer spilling from his mount, and his grey eyes went wide in surprise. Quizzically, he looked down at the two daggers he still held in his hands.

  "Good throw, Moknay!" cheered Thromar.

  "I didn't throw that," the Murderer admitted.

  The second Reakthi to bolt out of the greenery was suddenly snatched back by a pair of hairy arms. Uttering a cry of shock, the warrior was jerked upward like a marionette and sucked into the treetops.

  "It is Munuc!" Launce exclaimed. "He did not desert us!"

  A furry creature sailed out of a tree, colliding with another Reakthi. Sharp fangs drove into the soldier's neck, and beast, warrior, and horse crashed to the forest floor. Then, its fur matted with blood, the monkeylike beast launched itself at a fourth Reakthi, a black blur amongst the green foliage.

  "That's not Munuc!" said Logan. "That one's black!"

  Open-mouthed, the four men started as the real Munuc bounded onto Launce's horse. Other furry creatures swarmed out of the trees, descending upon the Reakthi with daggers and fangs. Horses and men screamed their surprise as the forest came alive with the small beasts.

  "They are not stopping!" Launce cried out in anguish. "Munuc, your kind cannot possibly hold back the Reakthi! I fear you have doomed your people!"

  Munuc grinned beneath his fur and pointed his gangly limbs farther down the river. Obeying the unspoken command, Druid Launce guided his horse southward, Logan and the others following him in puzzlement. As the horses neared the riverbank, a moss-covered stone pushed aside, and a grey-haired Munuc peeked out at the men. Two more hairy creatures sprang out of the opening, leading the horses away as the riders dismounted. Hastily, the real Munuc indicated the portal.

  "Quickly!" Launce ordered. "Follow Munuc in!"

  Thromar stepped back, fear on his face. "I'm not going in there!" he protested. "I'll never fit!"

  "I'll make
you fit!" Moknay threatened, gesturing wildly with his daggers.

  The bearded fighter grunted and grumbled, finally forcing back his fear and pushing his way into the small opening. With a nasty curse about tight places, Thromar vanished into the ground. In a grey blur, Moknay was after him.

  Clear water splashed upon the rock as an arrow plunked into the river. Druid Launce twirled about on his heel, his calm eyes flashing with fury. A Reakthi was running toward them, flailing his bow above his head; a dagger wound marred his forehead.

  "He has seen the portal to Munuc's world!" the druid howled. "He must be silenced!"

  The black-robed druid flung himself at the warrior, his oak staff smacking into the soldier's temple. With a groan, the man in the golden chestplate staggered back, his empty bow dropping to the ground. Wielding his staff like a sword, the druid brought it forward, plunging its pointed end into the soft, yielding flesh of the Reakthi's leg. Releasing an agonized scream, the soldier crumpled to the dirt.

  The oaken staff shattered the Reakthi's skull.

  "Enough!" Logan yelled beside the portal. "He's dead! Come on, before someone else sees you!"

  Launce drew back the blood-smeared staff, slowly. "Yes," he breathed as if suddenly drained, "he is dead."

  The druid turned to face Logan when another Reakthi rode out of the brush. With a triumphant twang, an arrow rocketed from the bowstring and drove into Druid Launce's back.

  "Launce!" Logan screamed, blindly charging forward.

  Smiling, the Reakthi nocked a second arrow into his bow and looked up to aim for Logan. Rage boiling inside the young man, Logan reached the druid's side and snatched up the oak staff. It flew from Logan's hands and rammed into the Reakthi's breastbone. Arrows spilled from his quiver as the Reakthi fell off his horse, stars flashing behind his eyelids.