Sevenfold Sword_Warlord

by Jonathan Moeller

  Now that she bore the Staff of Blades…what man would wish to have anything to do with her?

  “It seems that the Keeper may know us better than we know ourselves,” said Aristotle, half-amused, half-annoyed.

  “Whether men of Andomhaim or men of Owyllain,” said Calliande, “the human heart is the same wherever you go. My lords, I propose that the solution to this dilemma stands before us even now.” She gestured at Calem, who had watched the discussion of his potential execution with indifference. “Sir Calem already bears the Sword of Air, and he has sworn vassalage to the Shield Knight and me. He will fight against the forces of King Justin and the Confessor.”

  “He has a mouth, does he not?” said Aristotle. “What does Sir Calem say about this?”

  “I…” Calem blinked a few times, looked at Calliande, and then nodded to himself. “The Keeper could compel me, but she did not. I have never chosen anything freely in my life, my lords. So, I will choose now. If the Shield Knight and the Keeper wish me to fight their enemies, then I shall.”

  “So be it,” said Hektor. “Sir Calem, you have our thanks.”

  Calem blinked again. “For what?”

  “For protecting the lords of Owyllain from the dissensions you just saw,” said Hektor.

  Calem bowed. “As you say, King Hektor.”

  “My decision is this,” said Hektor. “It is obvious that the Sword of Air would be dangerous to wield. Therefore, I accept that Sir Calem is a vassal of the Shield Knight and the Keeper, who are in turn vassals of the High King of Andomhaim. Since the Shield Knight and the Keeper have agreed to aid us against King Justin and the Confessor, we have nothing to fear from Sir Calem. Indeed, we should be grateful. The Shield Knight and the Keeper are powerful allies, and with Lady Third and Sir Calem, they have brought more powerful allies to our cause. My lords, I suggest we rest for the night. Tomorrow will be another long day of marching.”

  With that, the audience was over, and the kings and lords began to drift away to their pavilions.

  “That went better than I expected,” said Ridmark.

  Calliande smiled. “You’re a pessimist, my love.”

  Ridmark grunted. “And you’re not?”

  “Well.” Calliande sighed. “No one died, and that was the important thing.” She looked to Third. “I think we should talk. I suspect you have news for us.”

  “I do,” said Third. “But between the arrival of Calem and the audience with King Hektor, events keep interrupting.”

  “This way, then,” said Calliande.

  Tamlin and Aegeus went to find their tents for the night, and Kyralion fell in behind Ridmark and Calliande. He had spent most of the audience watching Third. Calem walked to join them, and Kalussa felt his green eyes upon her. The frankness of his stare was unsettling. When men looked at Kalussa, it was either with respect for her royal rank or a measure of desire for her beauty. Which did please her, if she was honest.

  Calem just looked at her.

  Perhaps Calem had seen so many horrors that there was little left to frighten him.

  “Lady Kalussa,” said Calem. “That is the Staff of Blades, is it not? One of the Sovereign’s personal weapons?”

  “Yes,” said Kalussa. She didn’t know if she wanted to talk to him or not.

  Calem nodded. “You wield the Staff well. Your sphere struck me with great force.”

  “Do you want an apology?” said Kalussa. “You were trying to kill my friends at the time.”

  “No apology is necessary,” said Calem. “I was merely curious. I did not expect to see a Sister of the Arcanii wielding the Staff.”

  “I wish I had never picked up the evil thing,” said Kalussa.

  He smiled a little.

  “What?” said Kalussa.

  “I understand,” he said in a quiet voice, his hand brushing the pommel of the Sword of Air. “Better than you might think.”

  Chapter 5: The Apprentice’s Gifts

  Calliande was pleased to see that the tent she shared with Ridmark had already been raised. She did not like how entire tribes of saurtyri had sworn themselves to Owyllain as servants. Calliande had seen with the halflings of Andomhaim how such an arrangement could be abused. Yet she had to admit that the saurtyri did good work. Their tent was already raised, and the camp had risen with astonishing speed.

  Maybe Gareth and Joachim could have accompanied her. Perhaps she had been too cautious. Perhaps her children could have accompanied them on the march…

  Grim experience and cold reason overrode her emotions. Nothing was ever certain in war. A commander could plan with all diligence, could drive his foe to defeat…and sheer mischance could undo all his efforts. No, her sons were safer in Aenesium.

  No matter how much it tore at her heart to be so far away from them.

  At least her sons were safe. At least they were alive. At least she could use the Sight to check on them from a distance.

  “You took quite a risk,” said Ridmark to Third, “passing through Khaldurmar like that.”

  Third shrugged. “The dvargir are dangerous but predictable. They keep to their word, even if they leave themselves many loopholes.”

  “Nonetheless, you bore great dangers on our behalf,” said Ridmark. “Thank you.”

  Third shrugged once more. “I did as Queen Mara and High King Arandar bade me.” She smiled a little. “And I am relieved to know that you are safe. We survived the Frostborn and the Sculptor and Tarrabus Carhaine so it would have been ill for you to fall to this Guardian Rhodruthain. Your sons, though. Are they safe?”

  “They are,” said Calliande. “Safe in Aenesium, south of here. Some of Sir Tamlin’s retainers agreed to watch over them. Once we’ve defeated Justin Cyros, we will return to them.”

  Of course, after Justin was defeated, the Confessor would likely launch his attack. Or Justin might prove victorious in the coming battle. Or maybe the Necromancer of Trojas or the Masked One of Xenorium would take a hand in the fighting. Both Hektor and Justin seemed to discount the Necromancer and the Masked One because they each controlled only one of Owyllain’s Nine Cities, but Calliande suspected that the bearers of the Sword of Death and the Sword of Shadows were not to be underestimated.

  “That is good,” said Third. “Whatever Rhodruthain’s reasons for bringing you here, it was ill of him to involve your children.”

  “I agree,” said Ridmark. His voice hardened. “I intend to make him understand that the next time he crosses our path.”

  A thought occurred to Calliande.

  “Third,” she said. “How did you even find us?”

  “I did not,” said Third. “Antenora did. From the Chamber of the Sight in the Tower of the Keeper, she determined that you were still alive. And then she forged tools I could use to track you.”

  “I see,” said Calliande, unsurprised.

  Antenora had spent fifteen centuries on Old Earth until she used the Warden’s failed gate to cross over to this world. From what Antenora had told her, it seemed that the men of Old Earth had raised their engineering and sciences to great levels. Antenora’s memory could not contain all fifteen centuries she had spent upon Old Earth, but she had retained knowledge unknown to anyone in Owyllain.

  Including secrets of metallurgy known only to the men of Old Earth. Between that knowledge and Antenora’s own skill with the magic of elemental fire, she had become a capable artificer, skilled with forging items of magical power.

  “That bracer of yours,” said Ridmark. Third wore exclusively black beneath her dark armor, but she had a bracer of blue steel on her right forearm. “You said it was how you found me, that Antenora enchanted it so you could find Oathshield.”

  “Actually,” said Third, drawing the bracer off her forearm, “it is not mine, but yours.”

  ###

  “Mine?” said Ridmark, startled. Third’s forearm was thinner than his, but the bracer was held in place with leather straps. It ought to fit, and he saw that Third had pulled the straps as
tight as they would go to keep the bracer from falling off her arm.

  “Yes,” said Third. She handed him the bracer, and Ridmark took it. “Antenora forged the bracer with a twofold purpose. First, to permit me to follow you, no matter how far away Oathshield was. Second, to allow you to control the power of the Shield Knight without deleterious consequences to your health.”

  “What do you mean?” said Calliande.

  “As you know, Lord Ridmark can employ the power of the Shield Knight for a short time,” said Third. “But it exacts a severe toll on his stamina, and he collapses for several days afterward. The power can only be wielded with a cost.”

  “What power is that?” said Calem.

  “The power of the Shield Knight,” said Kalussa in a soft voice. She stood next to Calem, both hands grasping the Staff of Blades before her like a shield. “I don’t understand how it works, but…”

  “It is a power the archmage Ardrhythain added to my soulblade when he forged it,” said Ridmark. “Most soulblades have only one soulstone. Mine has two, and I can unlock the power of the extra soulstone for a short time. It manifests as a suit of blue plate armor that makes me stronger and faster than human, and is immune to almost any form of damage from spell or sword.” He shook his head. “But it has a sharp cost. I collapse for days after, and if I do it too often in too short a time, I think it will probably kill me.”

  It was a dangerous limitation, but Ridmark understood it, even approved of it. He had seen firsthand how easy it was for humans to abuse magical power. The Enlightened of Incariel had been a grim warning. When Ridmark had still been the Dragon Knight, the pressure to use the Dragon Knight’s sword to destroy the enemies of Andomhaim had been growing from the more ambitious nobles, and Ridmark had returned the sword to Ardrhythain lest it be abused. Which was why Ardrhythain had given him Oathshield in turn.

  He understood the limitation, but it was nonetheless vexing.

  “He did it at Castra Chaeldon,” said Kalussa. “That was how he killed Archaelon.”

  “You didn’t use it when we fought,” said Calem. “At least, I don’t remember it.”

  “I didn’t,” said Ridmark. “You’re too damned fast. I need at least a few moments to summon the power, and you never gave me a spare second.”

  “Ah,” said Calem. He offered a bow.

  “Antenora enspelled the bracer to remove the negative effect of the Shield Knight’s power,” said Third. Ridmark turned the bracer over, the metal cool against his fingers. Inside the bracer, he saw magical sigils glowing with the distinctive orange-yellow light of Antenora’s magic. “She could not increase the amount of time that you could use the power of the Shield Knight, but she thought the bracer would prevent the deleterious effects of using the power.”

  “Antenora must have been working on this before we were brought here,” said Ridmark.

  “Yes,” said Third. “She feared that the power of the Shield Knight might kill you, and worried at the effect that would have upon the Keeper.”

  “That was kind of her,” said Calliande in a soft voice. It was not an unreasonable fear. For the six months after Joanna’s death, Calliande had been on the verge of collapse. Only the dangers of Owyllain had shaken her out of the fog of her grief. God only knew what Ridmark’s death might have done to her. “Ridmark, can I see that?”

  Ridmark nodded and held out the bracer to her. Calliande stepped closer and worked a spell. Ridmark had seen her cast the spell to sense the presence of magical forces so many times that he recognized it at once. Her eyes also went a bit hazy, which meant she was using the Sight.

  At last, she straightened up and blinked a few times.

  “What do you think?” said Ridmark.

  “I think it will work,” said Calliande. “It won’t allow you to use the power for any longer…but it will shield you from the harmful physical effects.” She took a deep breath. “And I think…it might be best for you to test it right now.”

  Ridmark frowned. “Is that wise?”

  “I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think so,” said Calliande. Her blue eyes met his. “And I wouldn’t suggest it if we weren’t about to face such a dangerous foe. If you’re forced to use the power of the Shield Knight in the battle against Justin Cyros, and the battle still rages around you when the power departs…”

  “Then I could continue to fight with Oathshield,” said Ridmark.

  For her sake, he did not mention the obvious fact that he would be killed if he collapsed in the middle of a battle. She already knew that anyway.

  “Yes,” said Calliande. “Best to test it now instead of in a crisis.”

  “Very well,” said Ridmark. “Ah…right arm or left?”

  “Either one,” said Calliande.

  Ridmark nodded and bound the bracer to his right forearm. He flexed his fingers a few times, then nodded to himself once more and drew Oathshield. The soulstones set in the tang and the pommel flickered with white light, but the sword did nothing unusual in response to the presence of the bracer. Nor did it burst into white flame, which likely meant that the dark magic within Calem was indeed under control.

  “All right,” said Ridmark.

  He concentrated, focusing upon the soulblade, and drew on his bond with the weapon. Ridmark could use the bond to make himself stronger and faster, but he reached beyond that, for the burning power that waited at the core of the sword.

  For about three heartbeats, nothing happened.

  Then the power the Shield Knight surged through him.

  White fire covered Ridmark from head to toe, and then it hardened into blue armor the same color as Oathshield. Ridmark now wore blue plate armor, his face concealed beneath a helm with a visor, though it did nothing to impede his vision, and it felt as if the armor weighed nothing. Magic thrummed through the armor, power to make him faster and stronger than even a normal Swordbearer.

  Calem and Kyralion both took a step back in alarm. Neither of them had seen Ridmark unlock the Shield Knight’s power.

  Ridmark stood wrapped in that power and did nothing.

  It was the oddest feeling. Previously when Ridmark had drawn on the Shield Knight’s power, he had done so during a desperate battle, when there had been lives at stake. Now he was waiting to see if he was going to fall over or not. The power howled through him, and Ridmark grasped Oathshield, waiting.

  He managed to hold the power for ten minutes, and then the blue armor dissolved into white flames and vanished from sight.

  And…nothing else happened.

  Ridmark looked at the others, blinking in surprise. Whenever he had released the power of the Shield Knight before, he had collapsed in exhaustion at once, and he had usually been bleeding from his nose and ears. Now he only felt a little tired.

  “Ridmark?” said Calliande. “How do you feel?”

  “Tired,” said Ridmark. He shook his head. “But I walked all day, and I had to fight Calem. Little dizzy. Something of a headache.”

  “But nothing worse?” said Calliande. She stepped to his side, put her hand on his right temple, and cast the spell to probe injuries.

  “No,” said Ridmark.

  Calliande smiled. “The bracer worked. I think you’re a little fatigued, but that’s all.”

  Ridmark snorted. “Nothing worse than I would experience in a normal sword fight.”

  “Could you draw upon the power of the Shield Knight again?” said Third. “If you could do so again immediately, that would be a tremendous advantage.”

  Ridmark reached through his bond to the soulblade again. “I…don’t think so. Not for at least another day, probably…”

  “Antenora suspected it would take twenty-four hours for the sword’s power to refresh itself,” said Third.

  “Then let’s hope we don’t face danger in the next twenty-four hours,” said Ridmark.

  “But this is wonderful news, Ridmark,” said Calliande. “If you can use the power of the Shield Knight without fear of incapacita
ting yourself…”

  “Yes,” said Ridmark. The fight with Rypheus and Khurazalin might have gone differently. Many men and women who had died might now live.

  Though Ridmark supposed if he had used the power of the Shield Knight during Calem’s attack, Calem would now be dead.

  “I am pleased that it is useful,” said Third. She reached into her pouch and drew out something. “Antenora sent this for the Keeper.”

  “What is it?” said Calliande.

  Third held a steel bracelet adorned with several pale crystals. It looked new-made, the steel still shiny. Calliande looked it over, her eyes going hazy again.

  “Antenora made this, didn’t she?” said Calliande.

  “She did,” said Third. “I confess I do not know how it works. My knowledge of magic is not sufficient. Antenora said it was a link that would connect you to the Chamber of the Sight in the Tower of the Keeper in Tarlion, which means…”

  “Which means,” said Calliande, her eyes going wide, “I could converse with Antenora through the spell of mind-speaking, despite the distance to Tarlion.”

  “I believe that was Antenora’s intention,” said Third.

  “I need to try this at once,” said Calliande. “I suspect I will have to concentrate.” She looked at Ridmark. “Could you make sure I’m not disturbed unless it is an emergency?”

  “Of course,” said Ridmark.

  Calliande nodded and disappeared into their tent, closing the flap behind her.

  Ridmark turned and found himself facing Kalussa. She flushed and looked away at once, her hands clutching the Staff of Blades tighter. The misshapen crystal at its end shivered and changed shape. He looked away, and Third raised an eyebrow.

  “I think, perhaps,” said Ridmark, “that we should retire for the night. I don’t think the Keeper will need you until the march begins tomorrow.”

  “Where should I sleep, Lord Ridmark?” said Calem.