The Legacy of Skur: Volume One

by L. F. Falconer

  “Don’t get too cocky now, Fane. Does that mean you can’t be gulled? Does it have any power over his minions?”

  The warmth rushed out of me.

  “It will be dangerous. Don’t ever think otherwise. And be constantly aware of the opposing forces; the realm of the moon, or that which is unseen, and the realm of the sun, that which is seen. Upon Skur, you will truly be entering the realm of the moon. So keep your eyes open and pay particularly close attention to the sparks.”

  “The sparks?”

  “Your sparks. Uncontrived ideas that spring from the realm of the moon. They can be invaluable.” Fith took my hands into his own. “This is a noble mission, Fane. And a man with a noble mission is much stronger than one who only seeks wealth for his own personal gain. We need Ragg’s gold. Without it, you and I and all of mankind will continue to perish. We will never rise to completeness in the Other World.”

  The gold. “Go get the gold.” Yes, we needed the gold. This was something I had to do. If Fith could continue his work without fear of dying, all of mankind would benefit and I would not be left without a mentor. These were the things I needed to keep telling myself. The things the rational part of me needed to be constantly reminded of, despite the urging voice from deep within.

  “I do not want to lose my apprentice, Fane. I will give you other means to help you on your way, but that talisman is the single paramount gift I can bestow. Keep it upon you, no matter what, and come back to me.”

  “I will.” The words felt like cheese in my mouth, but I forced them out. “I will be back.”

  As I left Fith’s for the final time with the hope the talisman gave me, still a darkness weighed me down—a darkness vast and cold.

  As if in a dream, I wandered the village alone for hours, but could find no solace in its familiarity. If Ragg had managed to overpower and destroy his master, how could I, a mere wizard’s apprentice, hope to defeat him? The pouch of powders Fith bestowed upon me along with a few words of enchantment might ease my way, but I had far too little experience with the sword, and my knowledge of the magics was finite. I had no clue what these sparks were he spoke of. And how much power did this blue crystal truly hold? Fith wouldn’t let me go if he didn’t believe I could succeed, would he? I had truly hoped Jink would have agreed to come, for he was strong and quick with his wits. I could use his help, but I was all alone in this quest of madness and the pangs of indecision I felt gnawed like an ulcer at my gut.

  When I finally forced myself to return home, Kael sat alone in the inglenook. He frowned Father’s frown as he watched me enter.

  “Where’s Father?” I asked, trying to ignore Kael’s geck.

  “Gone to Fead on king’s business. He’ll be gone a sennight.” Kael paused. “He bade me tell you to stay home. Become a wizard. Drink at the pub. Consort with the whore. Do whatever you wish, but don’t throw your life away to Ragg. Stay in Avar.”

  I had to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  I shook my head. “I already am a wizard. I already do drink at the pub and nub the whore. I already do what I want. What permission is Father granting me if I stay in Avar? To remain in the shadow of Kael?”

  He leapt to his feet. “He is granting you the opportunity to stay alive! Perhaps you don’t need his permission to destroy yourself, but it would be to your advantage to heed his counsel. Our father happens to be a very wise man.”

  “Can’t you see that I’ll never measure up to you in his eyes? He wants me to be another Kael, but I am not Kael. I am only Fane, and Fane is a disappointment.”

  “How could you possibly believe that?”

  “Because it’s true. Because I am not a warrior. I am less than a man in his eyes because I am not a warrior.”

  “Not every man can be a warrior, Fane. Father knows that.”

  “No. He only knows that I am not what he wants me to be. It matters not to him what I want or who I am. All he sees when he looks at me is a failure. An embarrassment. And you—you grow more like him every day.”

  “I don’t see anything wrong with that.” His tone was defensive. I had the upper hand. Yes, Kael had taught me that. It worked as well with words as it did with swords.

  But I had no desire to hurt my brother. I sighed deeply before speaking again, drawing strength from that breath. “I am going to do what I have to do, Kael. For Fane. And for our kingdom.”

  “There is no wealth in the world worth risking the wrath of Ragg!”

  “It’s not wealth I seek, Kael. It is life.”

  “No. To seek the treasure of Skur is to seek death. You don’t have to give yourself up to Ragg in order to prove to Father that you’re a man.”

  “But to die in the King’s Service would?”

  “There is honor in dying as a warrior, Fane. What honor is it to walk into the arms of a demon while trying to take a fortune that may not even exist?”

  “The treasure is there. It exists. It’s as real as Ragg is, and it takes far more courage to face a demon in battle than to face a man!”

  “At least in battle with a man you have the chance to win.”

  “I’m going,” I said. “And that’s all there is to it.” I knew there was no arguing with him. In his own simple way, Kael was fulfilled. A part of me wished I could be so easily satisfied, but my dreams were much bigger and bigger dreams required a grander sense of completion.

  I retired to my bedchamber knowing it was useless to speak with Kael anymore. His mind was too small.

  Two days later I stood among the gorse upon the hillock behind our home, staring at the mountain in the distance. The morning sun warmed my back and a gusty breeze stirred the rye, lightly scenting the air. Stray brown strands of hair whipped my nose. I tried to keep it tied back, but sometimes strands of it escaped and played with my face, which irritated me, but I couldn’t cut it off, for the length of a wizard’s hair was in direct correlation to the respect he commanded. I had readily consented to grow my hair, though my face was still lacking, but that would come in time. I just couldn’t quite concede to rig myself in a robe yet, so lacking all the inner pockets of such a garment, I carried all my powders and herbs in pouches upon my belt. It grew a bit cumbersome at times. I had hopes the day might come that I would feel like a true wizard and a robe might then feel more comfortable, but until that time, I dealt with the over-burdened belt.

  Across the valley, Skur jutted high above the surrounding peaks, an eminent menacing cradle of myth and allure. We had always dwelt within its shadow, giving it little heed other than respecting its boundaries. The legend of Ragg was ageless. Countless men had tried to conquer him and capture the treasure, and those countless men had failed. Those who dared the slopes of Skur were never seen again.

  I fingered the talisman Fith had given me. Could it truly protect me? Could I truly succeed in this quest of madness? Jink was a rowdy who feared little in life, yet he refused to take part in this venture. Kael was stalwart and daring, yet he thought I’d lost my mind. Was I being foolish? Or was I being brave?

  Besides Ragg and his minions, what else would Skur inflict upon me? It was bound to be cold—the snow never vanished from its sides. And it was bound to be barren, for what could thrive in the endless snows? And certainly the treasure was well hidden—it wouldn’t be easy to find, secure within the realm of the moon.

  I looked at my arm where it had been cut. There was so scar, no sign that it had ever been damaged at all. Two gold coins had restored it.

  Again, I gazed at Skur. It held the secret. It held life. “Go get the gold.” Seizing my fleeting moments of certainty, I tried to cast my doubts aside, clinging to the strength hope gave me.

  Laden with my fur cloak and vest, my tinderbox, my belt of spell pouches, and a bit of food for the journey, Snorts was tied outside the smithy. I had not seen Jink since I’d given him my gold, for I hadn’t the heart to face him. Friends since we were children, I had always known that our lives would separate sometime. I
just hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

  Rook, with his empty, wooden face, watched with that nerve-chilling stare of his as I made my way to the rear of the smithy where a stout silhouette wavered in the heat of the smelter.

  “Heigh, Jink,” I called with feigned enthusiasm.

  “Ho there, Fane. Bloody good day.”

  “Bloody good day it is.”

  Jink was a true artisan. Sheathed in a simple leather scabbard, the sword had a gilded hilt ringed with minute glittering ancient runes within a field of gold that glowed before the forge fire. The blade shone with a bright, virgin sheen when I unsheathed it, a lightning flash smiting my eyes. Certainly the awe upon my face must have spoken my thoughts.

  “It’s not my best work,” Jink said. “But I put in some bloody long nights to get it ready. The hilt could be better but the blade is the absolute best, and that’s what counts the most.”

  “It’s a rum tilter, Jink. It’s perfect.”

  “It’s not perfect, but it’s good. The blade is the strongest steel alloy we can make. It should keep its edge for months, even under extensive use.” He stopped and gave me a cocked grin. “And for extra measure, I took it to Fith and had him give it a dose of luck.”

  “A dose of luck?”

  “Bloody right. If you’re determined to go through with this, I figured it couldn’t hurt, and neither did he.”

  “No, it couldn’t hurt.”

  Jink took a step back and let out a deep sigh. “But I’m afraid I probably washed the spell away. I’m sorry, Fane, but I’d just polished the bloody thing all nice and pretty and that old gaffer went and slimed the blade up with an onion and a bunch of smoke. So I cleaned it back up. I just couldn’t give it to you all dirty. If you want it all slimed up, that’s your choice now.”

  I had to smile. Fith’s spell had simply transformed Jink’s random runes into a permanent sigil. What strength it might impart remained to be discovered. “It’s all right, Jink. The blessing he gave it is still there.”

  “That’s good to know.” He looked up at me through the corner of his eye. “You know Ragg will never let you near the treasure.”

  “I know he’ll try to keep me from it. But I also know it’s vital that I get the gold. My future depends on it. And I have some other magic to help me.”

  “Is it strong magic?”

  I couldn’t give him an answer for I did not know. I could only take Fith’s word.

  “Fane, is there no other way to get the gold you need?”

  “I could probably try to steal the king’s treasury.”

  Jink chuckled. “Wouldn’t that make your father proud.”

  “There is no other way to get the amount I need. Ragg has more than enough gold and I mean to get it. Even if he keeps the rest of the treasure, I need the gold.”

  He pulled a bronze breastplate from the wall and handed me the vest-type armor. “You might need this.” In his eyes I glimpsed a sadness, always present yet rarely seen. “It will be cold on Skur.”

  “I know.” Waesucks! How was I ever going to be able to tell him goodbye? My heart was jammed into my throat and I could no longer find my voice.

  “Have you a warm cloak?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Your dirk?”

  Again, I nodded.

  Jink sighed. “I suppose you’re ready then. Are you certain you have everything you need?”

  I struggled to reclaim mastery of my voice. My words came out choked and husky. “The only thing I’m lacking … is companionship.”

  Jink snatched another breastplate from the wall. “I provided your bloody armor and your bloody sword. Now I suppose I’ll have to provide you some bloody company, too.” He slipped on the breastplate, not bothering to hasp it as he grabbed a sword belt and a fur cloak from the rack on the wall. “Since no one can talk you out of this madness, you’d better have a companion to it, and who’s a better companion to madness than Jink.”

  If he had been a woman, I would have kissed him.

  As I dragged the reluctant Snorts behind me, thigh-high in heath on the outskirts of Avar, the thunder of approaching hoof beats caught my attention and I turned to look back.

  “Kael,” I said in surprise.

  He reined the chestnut gelding to a halt. Its hooves pondered the ground. The tension in the air was turbid.

  “Except for the presence of the ass, you two look as if you’re going off to war,” he finally spoke.

  “I suspect we just might bloody well be,” Jink said.

  Kael shot him a scornful glance before addressing me as if to dismiss Jink’s very presence. “You will not even wait until Father returns before you rush into obliteration?”

  If I waited until Father returned, I might never leave. He would surely find some way to change my plans. I almost suspected he had gone to Fead hoping I would stay put until he returned and when he did it would probably be with a writ from the king or the council forbidding me from Skur.

  “What do you want, Kael?” I asked.

  “I want you to think about what you’re about to do. I want you to think about what you are throwing away. I want you to think about death, Fane, and how you’re walking right into it.”

  “Do you think I haven’t thought about it?” Why had he thrown all my doubts back into the foreground of my mind?

  “Are you afraid that Fane is more valiant than you, Kael?” Jink sneered. “Are you afraid, because he dares a glorious quest while you hide in your father’s bloody shadow?”

  Quick as a moment, Kael leapt from his horse and slammed onto Jink. They toppled to the grass, going to loggerheads, Kael’s fist hammering Jink’s face as Jink attempted to fend him off. The two were evenly matched and could have proven to be a deadly bout, but it seemed Jink’s heart wasn’t in it.

  “Enough!” I yelled, wresting Kael to his feet as I pulled him back and away.

  Jink laughed softly and wiped the blood from his nose, then massaged his reddened cheek. “Bloody good move, warrior. Caught me unaware. I commend you.”

  “I don’t need commendations from the bastard son of a whore.” Kael pulled himself free from my hold and brushed the dirt from his leggings.

  Jink got back to his feet. “It’s a bloody good thing, because you’ll get no more.”

  “Why do you insist on associating with this impudent bastard?” Kael railed, flailing his arms about. “He has no respect for anything.”

  “I don’t need you to approve of my choice in friends,” I told him.

  Jink laughed. “And he had no choice of brothers. If he had he certainly wouldn’t have chosen you.”

  I glared at Jink. “Kael is as good a brother as you are a friend.” I was always caught in the middle between these two and I hated it.

  “If Jink is such a good friend, then why is he encouraging you in this insanity?”

  “And if you are such a good brother, then why are you abandoning him in it?” Jink countered. “He couldn’t be dissuaded, therefore I chose to support him in his choice, no matter how bloody foolish it may seem. And who knows? Who bloody knows? He just might succeed!”

  Kael’s body trembled, but he remained silent.

  I looked from Kael to Jink, then back to Kael. “I wish you could understand why I need to do this, Kael.”

  “You’ll die up there, Fane. And for what?” His eyes were misty, most unbecoming for a warrior, and I truly wished to spare him the shame of tears.

  Grasping onto his shoulders, I stared into his eyes. How often had I seen my father in his face? Now, all I could see was Kael. My brother. My friend, before he was a warrior, and it nearly brought me to tears myself.

  “You trained me well,” I assured him. “And Fith has given me a powerful talisman. I have faith that I can succeed.” I drew strength from my words but was uncertain if I had eased Kael’s pain at all.

  “No!” He wrenched away from me. “I can’t condone this. In the name of the king, I forbid you to go!”

>   For a moment I was dumbstruck. But only for a moment. “You can’t do that, Kael. I’m a freeman and I’m breaking no law.”

  Kael’s face flushed and he mounted his horse in one swift movement. Staring down at me, he shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re really going to do this.” Then he whipped his horse and sped away.

  I stood in the calm, early-morning silence and watched him disappear. After a time, Jink broke that silence. “Are we going to Skur, or back to Avar?”

  “Skur.”

  I did not look back. Maybe I should have. I might have changed my mind. And Jink might still be alive.

  4

  Larque

  Steeling myself against myself, I refused to let myself feel anything as Jink and I pushed our way through the heath that filled the valley or I might have given in to my fears, turned around, and gone home. My self-doubt fought against me with every forced step I took. Jink had chosen to keep silent and for that I was grateful. He knew me well enough to know when it was unwise to speak to me; my black moods must have hung about me like a cloak.

  In the middle of the valley, we nooned that day sparingly upon some salty, smoked venison, cheese, and soft rye biscuits. I had brought also some soldier rations and hard biscuits, but had only brought enough for myself for about a fortnight, so when it was all gone we would have to fend from the land. I prayed it would be a short journey, yet had no way to know just how long it would really take. At that point, I had no way to know that I would never go home again.

  As we ate, Jink finally dared to speak his mind. “That anger you’re wearing won’t do you any bloody good, Fane. You’ve got to shake it off or it’s only going to get in your way.”

  I glared over at him. I didn’t want to admit that he was right, but Kael had induced this dudgeon in me and I was unable to ease or banish it.

  “Do you think I’m being foolish?”

  “That depends on what you mean.” He wiped the crumbs from his mouth. “If you want to live forever and you need the gold to do it, and the only way you can get the gold is to try to take it off Skur, then no, you’re not being foolish. You’re just doing what you have to do. Personally, I don’t want to live forever. What would be the bloody fun in life if it just went on and on and on? So maybe I think you’re being foolish for wanting eternal life because I don’t see the point. But, if you’re just trying to prove something, perhaps to your father, or whoever, then I’d say yes, you’re definitely being foolish.”