“I will miss you, Valduron,” Kazen whispered sadly.
“We will meet again soon, I think. But for now, you had best get yourself some sleep. You have many long days ahead of you.”
Grudgingly agreeing, Kazen found his way back to his room and tumbled into his soft bed. Pulling the blankets up to his chin, he had no sooner closed his eyes than he was once again accosted by violent and vivid dreams. As the world around him slept in forgetful bliss, he wrestled with torturous nightmares. He tossed and turned throughout the night, imprisoned by his own dreams.
The blush of dawn crept leisurely over the city of Crenin Non. Trembling and drenched in sweat, Kazen crawled out exhausted from his bed. Finding the silver washbowl next to his bed, he splashed some cool water over his pillow-creased face. He flattened his hair as best he could and was brushing the wrinkles from his worn shirt when something caught his eye.
Hanging neatly on the inside of his door was a stunning black uniform. A silken tunic and soft leather pants, each crafted from the finest materials. Like velvet to the touch, each piece, down to the stitch, was as pure black as the darkest night sky. The breastplate was hard, molded leather with the image of a silver dragon emblazoned on the chest. Rigid leather vambraces protected the forearms, and high-laced boots sat neatly upon the floor. A long, black, hooded cloak hung from the knob of the door.
Kazen scarcely hesitated before stripping off his ragged clothes and slipping into the comfortable attire. It fit perfectly, and though Kazen was not normally vain, he felt quite dashing in it. Looking in the mirror, with his stark white hair and ceremonial garb, he saw for the very first time a wizard staring back at him. He was ready to begin his journey.
With newfound excitement, Kazen hurried down to the hall to meet with the others. He met Shanks on the way down, and was thrilled to see him dressed in the same fashion. Shanks’ long brown hair was tied back in a respectable tail, and his black attire glittered with the silver hilts of a dozen sharpened daggers. He carried himself with an air of solemn poise, and Kazen saw clearly now the authority he had once held as a general in the Silver Dragons.
They met up with the others in the great hall. Everyone was dressed in similar wardrobe, each with his or her own subtle distinctions. Ilagon looked fittingly regal, his hair combed back precisely, and his brow creased in everlasting cogitation. E’enna bore a different emblem on her breastplate: a silver cross with a small circle around the junction. Looking sleeker and taller in her black uniform, she was a vision of both beauty and deadly grace.
“Marvelous!” Valduron boomed from the open doorway. “Now you truly look a force to be reckoned with!”
“It feels good to wear the armor of the Order again.” Shanks slapped his chest proudly.
“Thank you, Valduron.” E’enna grinned.
“No thanks necessary, my dear.” Valduron smiled. “It is my honor to be in the presence of those few worthy of wearing the armor of the elite forces of the Order of Silver Dragons. Now, I know you are all anxious to be on your way, but I bid you to enjoy one last meal with me before you depart.”
So, they gathered at the table in the great hall for the last time. They ate and drank slowly, no one really wanting the moment to end. Talking quietly, the sadness of the coming farewell began to weigh heavy on them all.
After breakfast they gathered their bulky packs and began the short walk to the eastern borders of town. They each took turns walking alongside Valduron and thanking him for his hospitality. Kazen quelled his tears as best he could and hugged the great dragon one last time before saying goodbye. As they exited the city and mounted the first rocky hill, Kazen turned and watched Valduron curl himself into a ball on the sandy path and rest his chin sadly on his coiled tail. The old dragon then slowly faded away as he used his chameleon-like scales to disappear into the landscape.
Chapter 13
The company walked in relative silence for most of the day. The familiar smell of dust and rock was thick in the clement air. Kazen hunched his heavy pack over his shoulder and struggled up and over the difficult ridges. He eyed the eastern sun, which hung low and leaden, reminding him that fall would be coming soon.
The day came and went with little change of scenery or mood. They pitched camp just before nightfall. Nibbling quietly on fruit-filled muffins and sipping on ginger tea, they sat distant from one another, each left alone with his and her own ponderings.
Though saddened by having to leave Valduron behind, Kazen’s thoughts turned to the future. The dangers that lay ahead, and the unlikelihood of actual victory, hung over him like a dark cloud. He guessed that the others had similar concerns, and he wished he were the type of person who could give an inspiring speech that would fill them with hope. Instead, he sat silently at the edge of the flickering firelight, wishing he were a thousand miles away.
Three days passed before they found an end to the rocky hills. Waves of knee-high tawny grass rolled out before them as the landscape stretched into an expansive plane. Occasional willows and knotted red maple trees nestled comfortably into the soft fields. Flocks of small, noisy birds flopped and danced just under the surface of the lush ocean of grass, feasting on the ample supply of tender grass seeds that fell with the slightest breeze or gentle nudge.
The moderate climate and soothing surroundings did well to lift everyone’s spirits. By the second day of traveling through the grassy plains, the group’s good humor had returned and they found enjoyment in each other’s company once again. They made excellent time over the flat land, and the snow-covered peaks of the Pale Mountains grew taller and nearer as the fleeting days passed.
“Is there no way around this mountain range?” Kazen asked, walking alongside Ilagon.
“I am afraid not.” Ilagon squinted into the morning sun. “The Pale Mountains stretch from coast to coast. The summit is already thick with the fall of an early snow. The pass will be difficult.”
“If snow were the most perilous of the dangers we might face, I would welcome it with open arms.”
“You might feel differently when you are up there with numb toes and chattering teeth.”
Suddenly, there was a commotion coming from up ahead.
“I see smoke ahead!” Shanks called back.
Everyone hurried to catch up to Shanks. Sure as he said, a few miles ahead, thick plumes of black smoke billowed up to the sky.
“There are a dozen small villages up and down that valley,” Shanks said. “This looks like trouble.”
“Raiders?” Kazen asked.
“Possibly.” Shanks nodded. “Maybe something worse.”
“We could go around,” Ilagon suggested. “A confrontation now will slow us down and bring unnecessary attention to ourselves.”
Kazen shook his head. “No. If there are people alive down there, we cannot abandon them.”
“If that is your choice.” Ilagon nodded reluctantly.
Quickly, they trotted off toward the valley. It did not take them long to reach the source of the smoke. Taking shelter behind a cluster of large boulders, they peeked out at the charred remains of a tiny village. Most of the dozen or so structures were already reduced to smoldering piles of cinder and ash. Only a few skeletons of buildings still stood, their beams hissing and crumbling as wisps of fire gnawed at what little timber remained.
The foul stench of burning flesh wafted over Kazen as he took notice of a gruesome sight. Mounds of barely recognizable human bodies were piled in the center of the village. The heaps of carcasses smoldered and festered. Sickly yellow flames lapped at the charred bodies, and a dreadful black smoke rolled over the devastated village.
Beyond the cloud of smoke, Kazen could make out at least twenty twisted figures dancing in the roads. They seemed to be human in nature, but they were deformed and wretched. Their skin was ashen and translucent, with swollen purple veins running down their skeletal legs and forearms. The hair atop their bony heads was little more than a few straggles of knots and clumps, the color
of which was lost under a crust of mud and filth. They wore no clothes to speak of, little else than shreds of tattered cloth and a few bits of leather that served as cover for their paltry frames. They swatted and snapped at each other with shrieks and howls like wild dogs.
“Hudak,” Shanks whispered, loathing clear in his voice.
Kazen was surprised that he recognized that word. It was an ancient language that Ilagon had taught him as a boy. A language that Kazen thought had been forgotten long ago.
“Lost souls,” Kazen mumbled, mostly to himself.
“Aye,” Shanks answered with a sneer. “Do not let their decrepit appearance fool you. They are incredibly strong and difficult to kill.”
“There is no one left here for us to save,” Ilagon said. “But we can stop this band before they wreak havoc on the surrounding villages.” He turned and put a soft hand on E’enna’s shoulder. “Are you all right?” he whispered to her.
E’enna glared at the scurrying mob of Hudak. “It will not be the first time I have faced them. Let us just get it done.”
“We’ll want to be quick about it.” Shanks pulled a dagger from his sleeve. “Taking the head or piercing the heart is the best way. Once they lose the advantage of their greater numbers they will try to flee. We must not let any of them slip away; they will warn others of our presence.”
Kazen crouched beside Ilagon, waiting for the word to attack. His heart raced with anticipation. The thrill of an impending battle came as a surprise to him, and he reveled in the rush of fire that seemed to flood his veins. Focusing on the enemy, his fingers itched to grip the cool hilt of his sword.
Sensing Kazen’s eagerness, Ilagon leaned back and whispered to him. “You should stay to the rear for this battle, Kazen. You are inexperienced, and may learn more from watching than trying to jump right into the fray.”
Those words made Kazen burn with resentment. “You think I’ll freeze again,” he grumbled bitterly. “Well, I won’t. I’m ready this time. And I won’t hide in the back like a coward!”
Ilagon sighed and shook his head. “I do not think you are a coward. And I know you have skill enough with your sword to do well. But these are not mindless beasts! Though these Hudak are little more than shadows of men, they are men still, and you may find it more difficult to take the life of a man than a beast.”
Kazen did not answer, nor did he look back at Ilagon, he only sat with his jaw tightly clenched, watching the rising smoke.
“Get ready!” Shanks whispered sharply.
Ilagon muttered a quiet curse under his breath and glared at Kazen with frustration. “All right,” he finally mumbled. “Then I will trust you to have my back.”
“Now!” Shanks shouted.
They leapt out from behind their shelter and charged the Hudak with weapons drawn and daggers flying. Two of the enemy immediately fell to the ground with daggers piercing them squarely in the chest. As they collapsed, their bodies crumbled and disintegrated into piles of black ash and bone.
The Hudak hissed and shrieked as they rushed their attackers. They pulled twisted blades from their backs that looked more like farming sickles than swords. Flinging themselves madly into battle, the enemy flailed their weapons with an angry vengeance.
Kazen charged in to meet their thrashing blades without hesitating. Pushing aside his fears, he allowed his sword to move for him. He did not listen to the mindless shrieking all around him; he listened only for the clank of steel against his sword. Dodging the Hudak’s clumsy blows came quite easily for him, and he even found a certain thrill to it. He had only to wait patiently for an opening to strike.
Parrying a Hudak’s low swipe, he finally saw his opportunity and drove his sword deep into the belly of the creature. It squealed in agony as the blade passed through its soft flesh like a warm knife through butter. Kazen could feel the Hudak shudder in pain through the hilt of his sword, and the sensation stirred a sick feeling in the pit of his own stomach. As blood began to run down the length of his sword, he put a foot on the creature’s chest and yanked the blade from its gut.
Falling to the ground, the Hudak did not crumble to dust like the others had, instead, it rolled onto its back, revealing its wound and glaring up at Kazen with lifeless black eyes. Looking down at the creature with pity at first, Kazen suddenly gasped as the gaping wound he had inflicted healed right before his eyes. The creature smiled with jagged yellow teeth and leapt to its feet.
Kazen, still stunned, was too slow to avoid the slash of the Hudak’s blade, and suffered a shallow gash to his left shoulder. Narrowly avoiding another swipe of the rusty sickle, he swung his sword with all his might, taking the creature’s head off with one swift blow. The body fell to dust as it hit the ground.
Shaken, and feeling his confidence slipping, Kazen lingered too long over his fallen foe and quickly found himself surrounded by the enemy. Swatting off their chaotic jabs and slashes, he was rapidly losing ground. Desperate to escape, he finally hurled himself, shoulder first, into the pack of Hudak, knocking most of them to the ground. Stumbling to his feet, and only slightly less disoriented than his enemy, Kazen pounced on the creatures, piercing their black hearts with his sword.
Panting heavily, he turned at the sound of a ferocious howl. Another of the Hudak charged at him in a mindless rage. With the creature practically on top of him, Kazen instinctually heaved his hand in a grand, sweeping motion, sending forth a scathing ball of fire, which instantly engulfed the creature. Its body ablaze, the creature shrieked defiantly and continued to charge forward. Immediately regretting his actions, Kazen hunched down behind his sword and braced for the attack.
Just as the fiery monstrosity bore down on him, a flash of white crossed the creature’s temple and it fell hard to the ground. The creature writhed and wailed, even as E’enna leaped gracefully over the scathing flames, landing squarely on her feet. She raised her polished staff and landed a powerful blow to the side of the creature’s head, snapping its neck instantly. She kicked distastefully at the smoldering embers left behind.
“I had everything under control,” Kazen insisted.
“Yes,” she answered sarcastically, “it certainly seemed that way.”
“They are scattering!” Ilagon shouted. “Behind you, Kazen! Do not let that one escape!”
Kazen turned on his heels and darted after a wiry Hudak who was headed for a thicket of woods on the outskirts of the village. He charged after the beast as fast as he could, but the creature was amazingly swift. Like an agile cat, the Hudak bounded through the break of the forest on all fours.
Clambering through the brush after the nimble beast, Kazen soon found himself alone in the silent woods. The forest was dark and muted by a thick canopy of overgrown thistle and furze. He stopped and strained to listen for any sign of the escaped Hudak. There was no hint of the creature as he crept forward cautiously.
Hearing a quiet rustling of leaves, Kazen crouched to the forest floor. He slithered along on his belly toward the disturbance. Carefully, he pulled his sword from over his shoulder as he approached a dense row of red-berried shrubberies. His jaw tightly clenched, he exhaled slowly and prepared to leap over the thick bushes. Gathering his courage, he exploded from the forest floor with a fierce cry. He hurdled himself over the hedge and found himself face to face with a pair of stunned pheasants. The startled birds squawked furiously as they took flight, stirring up a cloud of dust and dried leaves.
Kazen, himself, remained stunned for a moment, thankful that no one had been there to witness the ridiculous scene. Sheathing his sword, he stood and began to brush the leaves from his hair, chuckling at his own foolishness. Suddenly, a piercing shriek filled the air. Kazen barely caught a glimpse of the flashing yellow teeth before he was knocked to the ground.
The lone Hudak dangled from the limb of an overhead tree for a moment, glaring down at the dazed young wizard. With a serpent-like hiss, it pounced on Kazen’s chest, knocking the air from his lungs. The creature snarled and sl
ashed at his face with filthy, jagged nails.
Kazen squirmed under the Hudak’s weight. He could not believe how strong the emaciated being was. Blood flowed down his face and neck from the creature’s vicious attack. Tugging with all his strength, he was finally able to free one hand and then the other. He grabbed the Hudak by the wrists and tried to shift himself out from under the thrashing beast.
As he struggled to free himself, Kazen caught sight of a silver chain hanging from the Hudak’s neck. On the chain was a strangely familiar symbol, very oddly out of place. He soon regretted lingering too long on the trinket: The Hudak abruptly lunged forward and sank its teeth deep into his cheek.
Kazen screamed in horror while trying to kick the creature off. He pushed and pulled frantically at the tenacious beast, to no avail. Finally, he reeled back and struck the Hudak on the side of its head with his fist, sending the creature tumbling aside.
Jumping to his feet, Kazen jerked the sword from his back in a trembling rage. He held the blade over the fallen Hudak, who still hissed and spat rebelliously. Kazen bent over and yanked the silver chain from its neck before plunging his sword deep into the creature’s chest. He did not look back at the crumbled pile of cinders as he made his way out of the forest.
Limping his way back to the ravaged village, Kazen found the others gathering up daggers and spent arrows.
“By the fates!” Shanks hollered, seeing Kazen’s battered and bloodied face. “What happened, lad?”
Ilagon and E’enna both rushed to Kazen’s side.
“Kazen! Are you all right?” E’enna cupped his face in her hands.
“Do not!” Kazen snapped, pushing her hands aside.
E’enna pulled back, shocked at his sudden harshness.
“Why did you not tell me?” he demanded of her, and then turned to Ilagon, tossing him the silver chain. “Why did no one tell me?”
The Flame Weaver Page 16
