Shard

by Wayne Mee

  "I've heard o' yer famous 'enchanted blade'," Spangle said. "I came to test the heart n' arm o' the one who wields it, NOT the blade itself. You'll face me with ANOTHER weapon, if ye please."

  Timin was about to protest, but Thorn's icy frown silenced him. "Norgi, do you still carry the late High Warder's Kirktooth?"

  "That I do, Thorn," Norgi said, stepping forward.

  "I'd be pleased if you'd lend me the use of it for a short while."

  "My pleasure," Norgi said, formally handing over the Kirktooth that Fernleaf's father had carried to his death. It was a shortsword much like Shard, except that it lacked both the silver acorn on its pommel and the sinister aura of power; yet it fitted well in Thorn's hand and the balance was perfect. Laying Shard wrapped in its swordbelt at Timin's feet, he turned to face Spangle.

  "Let's at it then, for I've much to do today."

  The Kirkwean pirate-trader drew his own blade and went into a fighter's crouch.

  "You'll not use a shield?", Thorn asked casually.

  "Bucklers be used only when boarding a ship or attackin' a bunch of spear-casting heathens!", Spangle grinned. "I'll need no such protection this day!"

  "Oh?, you're THAT sure of winning?", Thorn quirked, repeated Spangle's own words --- then, calling on all the long, hard lessons Erin had drilled into him, he attacked.

  Spangle was taken off guard, for he had not expected Thorn to come at him so swiftly. Having spent most of his life fighting, either on land or on the rolling deck of a ship, he considered himself a good judge of character, especially of those that fancied themselves leaders. Thorn, he had sized up as a backwards bumpkin who had somehow gotten caught up in all this 'Wanderer' rubbish and now found himself in way over his head. Yet the swiftness of the attack and the look of determination on the face caused Spangle to quickly reassess his first judgment.

  And there was no denying that there was a good deal of skill involved here as well, for Spangle soon found himself hard pressed not to have the Thorn's blade break through his usually unbreakable guard!

  "Erg sink me, laddie, but you've a stout arm there!" Spangle had just blocked a blow that had sent a ripple of pain all the way up to his shoulder.

  "Had enough?!", Thorn demanded, breaking off his attack and giving them both a moments relief.

  "Nay, bumpkin, I'm just gettin' me second wind!"

  "Good! I wouldn't want your 'sport' to end too soon!", Then, reversing his blade the way Erin had taught him, Thorn surged forward, surrounded by a deadly wheel of razor-sharp iron.

  Spangle the Spike was slowly beaten back by the 'hammer' that was Thorn's swirling blade. Forced down on one knee in the streambed, Spangle's free hand scooped up a mixture of mud, water and pebbles and flung it at the face of the demon that was hovering over him.

  "Foul!", Timin cried, moving instinctively forward. Others from The Wold agreed, while those from Del Lingus heartily cheered on their captain. The two groups reached for their own weapons and it would have come to blows if Fernleaf and her females hadn't come between them.

  "By Blessed Erg!", Fern screamed, pulling out a wicked looking knife from her belt. "I'll gut the first one of you from EITHER side that draws a weapon!"

  Both groups fell back, Timin more surprised than the rest. Only Norgi seemed undisturbed, though there was a broad smile on his usually stern face.

  Spangle, meanwhile, had shouldered his way past the half blinded Thorn and leapt onto the fallen log bridge that spanned the stream. His gap-toothed grin had turned into a mocking sneer.

  "Come on then, 'Wanderer'!," he taunted. "Wander out onto my 'deck' here n' we'll see just how good ye really be! I've fought in cramped quarters all me life, so come on, lad! Let's see yer fancy moves done out here!"

  Thorn, his anger up, but feeling none of the berserker rage usually brought on when fighting with Shard, stopped, placed his hands on his hips and did something that caught even Kel, the stone-faced Chin, by surprise --- he threw back his head and laughed.

  Spangle, however, failing to see the humor, bellowed out an oath and charged; which was exactly what Erin had insisted would happen. As Spangle came rushing in, Thorn seemed to hear again his teacher's lilting voice: 'When up against a ragin', loud mouthed quiffer, stay calm and quiet, but when facing a confident or mockin' bastard, call his father a pimp n' his mother a whore! Then slice off his balls when he comes at ye!'

  'Castration', however, was not what Thorn had in mind for Spangle. He NEEDED this arrogant, self-proclaimed pirate, and so, stepping swiftly into Spangle's bull-like charge, Thorn ducked under his swing and raised himself back up as the weight of Spangle's body touched his shoulders. The Spike from Del Lingus found himself suddenly propelled through the air, only to come crashing down in the middle of the gurgling stream. Water running down his face, he opened his eyes to see the point of Thorn's Kirktooth pressed against his neck.

  "Well, cousin?", Thorn demanded. "Have I passed your little test or do we continue?"

  For the briefest of moments it looked as though Spangle was going to resist, then, throwing back his own head, he himself laughed deeply. "Nay, lad, ye bested me fair n' square n' I'll no go back on me word! I still don't believe overmuch in this 'Wanderer' tale of yours, but me n' my lads will follow ye! Now, give me yer hand, brother, n' lead me to a drink!"

  ***

  Spangle proved as good as his word, for within two days the crews off his ships anchored down river came trudging into th Kirkwean's 'base camp' deep in The Cat Woods. Over five score Kirkwean from Del Lingus, each one laden down with extra weapons, armour and supplies, all of which were badly needed. He also ordered his fastest ship back to the port of Rush, with the promise that more fighters and supplies would be forthcoming. Spangle the Spike was determined to break the stranglehold the Slathers had placed on his 'Erg given right to trade and bloody well prosper'.

  Twigg, finding an embossed breastplate small enough to fit his slight frame, strutted back and forth in front of Fernleaf and the score of females who had also elected to fight. "We'll show those Slather's what-for now, Fern!," he beamed, brandishing a heavy cutlass.

  "Mind you don't take off your foot with that thing, Twigg!", Fern smiled. She herself had chosen the lighter leather armour of an archer and seen to it that her 'squad of females' did the same, for she knew that Thorn planned short, fast raids against the enemy, not open, pitched battles. Along with a stout bow and two quivers of arrows, she also saw to it that each member of her squad was armed with a long, light killing knife.

  On the third day after the Gathering, a well equipped fighting force of some five hundred strong prepared to leave camp. Thorn had appointed five leaders and told each to pick one hundred fighters and a second-in-command. These in turn were divided into squads of twenty and placed under a sergeant. They would continue to use The Cat Woods as a base of operations, from which three of the five bands would constantly harass the enemy, rotating every few days so that there would always be a sizable force of two hundred at base camp, ready to spring into action at a moments notice.

  Studying a detailed map of the Wold, Thorn and his commanders made their plans. He explained how they would strike at the Slather's a three vital areas; their supply line between The Root and their anchored fleet; the patrols that constantly combed the forest trails; and the most dangerous place of all, in The Root itself.

  "But if we go near The Root they'll have us for sure!", one red-faced Kirkwean exclaimed. He had been with Norgi's original 'freedom fighters' and had the battle scars to prove it. "I'm as ready as the next to attack them in the forest or on the trails, but to go against them in the open is madness!"

  "And don't forget those accursed Brakarns!", another spoke up. "Why, out in the fields they'd hack us to pieces!"

  Thorn looked up and saw Fernleaf watching him. Dressed as she was in her archer's leather, her bow and quiver slung across her back and her mane of fiery hair knotted with a piece of rawhide, she made a formidable sight, yet Thorn though
t that she had never looked more beautiful. Their gaze met and he smiled.

  "Not if we go in at night."

  "But why go at all?", the red faced Kirkwean asked. "We can cut their supply line and pick them off from the forest just as Norgi and the rest of us were doing before you came back?"

  "Because that will only sting them, not cripple them. They'll just double the patrols and strengthen the guards on the supply trains. But if we hit them at their base, if we can strike the very heart of them, THAT will hurt them sorely!"

  Timin, who had remained silent until then, cleared his throat and spoke up. "What about the ones forced to work in the mines? We got most of the females out, but there's still almost three hundred maleWee'ns still there as slaves. If we attack, won't it go hard on that lot when we're safely away?"

  Thorn winked at his portly cousin. "Not if we rescue them just like we did the females."

  The council erupted into excited talk, most of it saying how, though they tricked the Slathers once, they'd not likely trick them a second time.

  Timin held up his hand for silence. When it came he turned to his lifelong friend. "Do you have a plan, Thorn?"

  "Not yet," Thorn grinned back. "But when I do, Timin, you'll be the first to know. As for now, the three bands chosen prepare to move out at dawn as agreed. Spangle's group will cut the supply line and the other two will harass the patrols. Be back here in four days at the latest."

  As they went about their assigned duties, Fernleaf moved closer to Thorn. "Do you REALLY think we can get in and free those still in The Root?"

  Thorn, now that the others had left, allowed himself the luxury of showing just how tired he really was --- and how uncertain. Taking Fern by the hand, he looked into her deep green eyes. "I HAVE to find a way, lass, though I think it will take a miracle."

  Fern gently bent his head towards her and kissed him softly. It was not so much a kiss of passion as it was one of tender love and hope and a willingness to share. Long had been the nights Thorn had lain awake thinking of his beloved, wondering if she had been killed or made a Slather 'plaything'. Now that she was safe in his arms he never wanted to let her go again, yet a part of him knew that he must, for their was a war to win and an obligation to fulfill.

  And there was Shard to carry.

  "No," she said as he gently tried to pull away. "I've waited so long, Thorn, so terribly long. Let the others wait for awhile." There was a huskiness in her voice that he had never heard before. "Timin and Norgi can manage the camp. Let this be OUR time." She led him by the hand into the shadows of the towering pines, all the while her green eyes flashing promises. Thorn followed as one in a dream, the war and the obligations and the much needed 'miracle' all swept away by the other miracle that was love.

  ***

  Chapter 54:'THE WORM TURNS'

  Mithdar came slowly over to where Thorn sat, deep in thought beside the little stream in the Cat Woods. The troubled Kirkwean didn't hear the mage until his gentle voice roused him from his dark thoughts.

  "And so, how do you feel, now that all the plans have been made?"

  Thorn looked up at the old man and sighed. "Worried over all the things that can go wrong."

  Mithdar smiled and eased himself down on the log. The scar on his cheek went on into his beard. His shoulder still bothered him where Skatha's hook had struck, but he refused to allow the pain to show.

  "The best laid plans often go amiss, Thorn. We can but do our best. But if it will help, I think your plan is very sound."

  Thorn snorted. "Oh, I'm sure Norgi's group can lure the Slathers out of The Wold all right, but what if they're caught before they reach Goblin's Gorge? Or what if they get trapped inside the West Gate? In the open they'd be cut to pieces! I should go with them to --- "

  Mithdar placed a gnarled hand on Thorn's shoulder. "Part of being a good leader is knowing when to let others lead. Norgi will draw most the Slathers into Goblin's Gorge, and Timin, Doffer and Twigg will do the rest. Even your pretty Fernleaf and her 'warrior maidens' will play their part, as will your piratical cousin from Del-Lingus. You are needed to lead Gluck and his followers into The Wold itself and free the prisoners."

  Thorn glanced over to where Gluck and his 'People From Under The Hill' crowded round Roary, listening to the bard play the 'wild music'. Mithdar and Erin had come across them the day before as they made their way to the Cat Woods. Gluck had been only too happy to hear that his band's skill would be needed to sneak into the Wold and silence the guards while Thorn and his group freed the prisoners.

  Despite his worries, a hint of a smile spread across the Kirkwean's drawn features. "Gluck and his lot really are just like children."

  "Yes," the mage replied while filling the bowl of his pipe. "But 'children' that can kill swiftly and silently. I doubt if your bold plan would work if they hadn't joined us."

  Thorn saw Erin join the 'singers', a wineskin in one hand and Zoean in the other. The tall mercenary didn't seem to favor his wounded leg at all, but Thorn, still feeling the pangs of guilt, asked Mithdar about it all the same.

  "Oh, don't worry about him, lad. Erin is blessed with the constitution of an ox --- although he does have the morals of a tom-cat! It's the lass that I'm concerned about."

  Thorn frowned. "But, surely when this is all over, they'll marry, just as Fernleaf and I plan on doing?"

  The wizard passed his hand over her pipe and drew on the stem. Smoke billowed out in gossamer rings. "That's just it, lad. I strongly doubt that Erin is the kind to settle down. Besides, her brother Arthdain, as much as he's come to respect Erin, will not take kindly to his royal sister wedding a 'manling'."

  Thorn's frown deepened; another problem added to all the rest. Yet that one at least would have to wait until after tomorrow's battle. Deep in his heart Thorn wondered if any of them would be left alive to worry about it.

  ***

  Chapter 55 has gone missing.

  Perhaps the Karns got it, or the Hooded Man spirited it away?

  Regardless of who, where or why, it is gone.

  All that remains are from my 'notes' from 'long ago and far away'.

  Here they are to read at your leisure.

  W.Wm.Mee

  NOTES for Chapter 55) UNLOOKED FOR FRIENDS

  Rif-Dag Cynwulf leads 6 Delgii and 6 Nim-Loth into the Wold AHEAD of Dingle's & Arthdain's main force of 500.

  Cynwulf comes across a patrol of Brakarns and most are killed [Cynwulf also now down to 4 fighters: veteran Patha, a young Delgi 'healer' called Lithel; 2 Nim brothers, Gwyloth and Silgwyn.

  ONE Brakarn gets away and Cynwulf and silent Silgwyn go after it, leaving Patha in charge of the healer and the wounded Gywloth (2 broken ribs).

  Norgi and Timin are just about to begin the mock attack on the Western Gate when the Brakarn stumbles upon them and is killed by dozen of mounted Kirkwean.

  Fernleaf and her 20 female archers also ride with Timin.

  Cynwulf and Silgwyn join up with Timin's group.

  Lucfelian stands outside the Forge, recalling how it all began when the hated Wee'ns stole SHARD long ago.

  Alexis V's 'voice' speaks to him from within about Shard. There is a power struggle and Lucfelian places his hand over a burning torch. The High Gnash, feeling the pain, retreats deep inside himself Lucfelian then uses his 'blood & fire scrying spell' to see that the Wee'ns will attack at sundown --- he is ready!

  ***

  Chapter 56:'THE BATTLE FOR THE WOLD'

  Skatha sat his nervous charger, absently stroking his gaunt cheek with the hooked blade that had replaced his left hand. A look of satisfaction creased his pale face, made all the more ghoulish by the hungry fire that burned within his reddish eyes. Soon it would be time to send Nex and his troop in, and then the killing could begin. Skatha trembled with anticipation.

  Shag stood panting at the Nar-Graith's stirrup, the sweat from the run and his own fear trickled off his hairy face. "They come, Lord! The filthy little Wee'ns attack just like the Mast
er said!"

  The last remaining Nar-Graith fixed his gaze on the wretch drooling on his boot. "Then draw your blade, cretin, and make ready to join in the fray --- or would you prefer that I end your miserable life here and now?" Skatha sneered down at the groveling Karn, a look of cruel mockery in his burning eyes. His voice was like the whisper of a snake in tall grass. "I promise you, your death shall be swift. It is the least that I may do for an 'old comrade-in-arms'."

  Shag backed away, his lame leg nearly giving out from under him. Reluctantly he drew his notched sword. For one wild, brief moment he contemplated burying it in Skatha's black heart, but an expectant look from the grinning Nar-Graith soon made him change his mind.

  Calling on the last remnant of his long forgotten pride, Shag half bowed to the mounted figure. "Till next we meet, Lord Skatha. May the Master indeed give you your just reward."

  Shag then drew himself erect, turned and limped off into the thick of the battle, for by now the hated Kirkwean had won past the Western Gate and were nearly into the broad fields of the Root itself.

  ***

  Norgi was worried. His mounted Kirkwean had all too easily surprised the Slather guards at the gate, forced their way through and pressed on up the road. There was now a real danger that they would win through into the Root itself; something that was not supposed to happen!

  Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a group of mounted Slathers were upon. The Dragoons came galloping down from the higher ground. Their long, cruel lances couched and ready, they hit the Kirkwean exposed left flank like a tidal wave of iron. Amid the cries of pain and the clash of weapons, Norgi recognized their leader. Nex! All too easily that Erg-cursed demon and his Slathers could close the gap behind them, trapping the over-eager Kirkwean in the open fields!

  Ducking under a lance and slashing the startled Dragoon's thigh to the bone, Norgi glanced skyward. At least their was no sign of flyers, and as yet the Brakarns had failed to put in an appearance, yet Norgi couldn't help but wonder when Lucfelian's 'pets' would make themselves known.