“Why?”
“Because people would say that you were destined to be king. The only way for that to happen would be if your brothers were dead. And not only your family. Rumors of that sort would reach the ears of your enemies. They would see you as a weakness to exploit, either by superstition or through your father’s love.”
Kain was silent for moment. There was simply too much to comprehend. He had grown up in a place of utter security. There was never talk of war or fighting, never talk of fear. In fact, Kain could not remember a grievance among the brothers of Aquista ever. It seemed naïve to think that way, but it was the world he knew. Now he was being called on to rule a world he knew nothing about.
“Here is where we leave the road,” Fairan said.
“Is it really necessary?” Kain asked.
“I do not believe we would survive if we stayed on the road.”
“But you said no one knows about me.”
“That is true, but Derrick knows me. He knows I will avenge the death of King Belhain. He knows I will not rest until those that raised arms against the royal family lay cold and dead, food for the crows.”
“But, do they know you are here?”
“Yes, I have been watched for many days. I believe Derrick seeks to know what I know. We will stop soon and make ourselves ready.”
“Ready for what?” Kain asked.
“You shall see.”
At that, they fell into another silence, but this one was different. Kain wanted to talk, to know more. But the cold hand of fear was pressing down on him so that conversation would not come. He felt a tingle in the air as fear crept back into his heart. And there was a heightening of his senses. The air felt cooler on his skin and he felt it on his hands, on his neck, even on his eyelashes, although the breeze was light. He could hear the sounds of the horses’ hooves on the dirt path, every creak of their saddles, every clink of the metal. And he could hear the sounds of the wilderness around him, the river in the distance, the breeze as it swayed the leaves, the animals scurrying through the underbrush. He could smell the dampness of the forest where the sun could not shine through the canopy of leaves overhead to dry the nightly dew. He could see everything so clearly, the colors were so vivid. He could not remember ever seeing leaves or grass or anything as green as those of the forest. He began to notice things: the texture of the bark on the trees, the way certain places in the grass looked trodden down, even the size of the horses they were riding and the way the muscles flexed and rolled under their sleek hides.
Soon they came to a rise in the path they were following. The terrain rolled for some distance until finally they came to the top of a small hill. Here the trees thinned out and they could see far into the forest. To one side of the path, a rocky cliff face jutted out of the earth and rose as high as the trees around them.
“This is it,” said Fairan. “We’ll make camp here tonight.”
“So soon? I mean, I know you want to take things slow, but there is probably an hour of daylight left. Are you sure you want to stop?”
“Yes, now let me take your horse.”
Fairan took his own horse down one side of the hill, right next to the cliff face. Then he led Kain’s down the other.
“What are you doing with the horses?” Kain asked.
“It is very likely that we will be attacked tonight. Luckily for us, we have a few things in our favor. First, we are expecting them, so if they are counting on surprise being an advantage for them, it won’t be. Secondly, we have chosen the place for the fight, and this is a good place. We’ll be able to see them coming, and if they try to flank us from either side, the horses should alert us.”
“I’ve heard of guard dogs, but not guard horses,” Kain said somewhat in jest.
“It is a trick I learned from your father. Finally, I don’t believe that they will risk killing you. They do not know who you are yet. They will come to capture you and kill me, thinking that you can tell them my plans.”
“And that is an advantage?”
“Yes, considering you’ve never held a sword. Now let me show you a few things.”
Fairan drew his sword and demonstrated as he talked.
“If a man comes at you with his sword raised above his head, which is a foolish thing to do, wait for him to strike at you, with your own sword held low, like this.” Fairan demonstrated. “Then simply step aside and slash your blade across his body. Leave your sword in its scabbard and practice it a few times.”
Kain stepped in front of Fairan, and the older man raised his sword above his head. They practiced the move in slow motion first and then gradually sped it up.
“Now you’ll be tempted to watch your enemy’s sword.”
“That makes sense,” Kain said.
“But don’t do it. Always watch your opponent’s eyes. If you follow his sword, you’ll be fooled by it. A man’s eyes will reveal his plan. Now if he comes at you with his sword held low, but pointed at the sky,” again Fairan demonstrated, “his attack will be obvious, he’ll have to draw it back to strike with any power. So set your feet like this, with your right foot a little farther forward than your left.”
Kain stood as Fairan instructed.
“Now always keep your sword low. A swordsman always attacks low first; it is much harder to avoid a low blow, and it will force your enemy to parry with his own weapon. Now I am going to show you a very basic strike that will work against most fighters. Hopefully you’ll live long enough to realize that most men are given a sword and expected to use it with no training. Your nobles will have grown up with military training. But most others have not. So block with your sword only when you have to. If you can avoid the blow, then your sword is free to strike. If you have to block the strike of your opponent, then it is wiser to wait for a particular moment to switch from defensive combat to offensive. Now, the strike you are waiting for is from high to low, again, just like before; if you can avoid it, do so and slash across the body. If you have to defect it, then swing from the side. If your parry is over handed, then you can swing over his sword as soon as his momentum carries his sword away from your body. If for some reason you end up blocking his sword above your head in an underhanded move,” once again Fairan demonstrated, “then allow his sword to continue down, but push it away from your body. Then as his sword slides down your blade, step forward and slash as soon as your weapon is cleared of his.”
And so they practiced. The sound of metal on metal rang through the forest. The Sword of Onnasus very quickly became comfortable in Kain’s hands. He began to understand what Fairan was saying about the sword being an extension of a person, and as he put his mind to the task of learning, the fear that had crept into his mind was forgotten. He was amazed at how fast, agile, and strong the warrior was. Fairan drilled Kain until the moves were sure, and then he began to speed up his attack. He moved faster and faster, striking hard. And as the light began to fail, Kain was sweating, but effectively defending himself.
So they put away their weapons and gathered wood for a fire. They talked lightly as they prepared their meal, Fairan asking questions about growing up in the Monastery. The time passed quickly and, although Kain had never been outside of the walls of the compound at Aquista after dark before, the fire and Fairan’s presence keep the fear at bay. They were almost ready to eat when Kain heard the clink of metal far to his left. At once all the hair on his body stood straight up.
“Put on that skull cap,” Fairan said, just as they heard a twig break somewhere in the darkness. “Pull that sword slowly; they can see us in the light of the fire. There’s no need to let them know we’re ready.”
Kain, did as he was told. His heart was pumping as if he had run a race; it felt like it could break through his ribs. His skin felt cold, and the urge to relieve his bladder was suddenly overwhelming.
Then it happened; there was a shout from down the hillside and four men rushed into the light from the campfire.
Chapter 3
&nb
sp; The first thought that raced through Kain’s mind was to run. He needed to run and hide. But just as he was about to give in and flee, Fairan’s voice broke through the haze of fear in his mind.
“Use your Mogs!” he shouted.
Kain fumbled with the belt at his waist. Somehow he managed to pull out one of the egg shaped, metal objects. It was cold and slippery in his sweaty fingers. He squeezed it in his right hand and gripped his sword in his left. Out of the darkness came the four men. Two were running side by side, directly toward him. He drew back and then threw the egg as hard as he could. It hit the closest man in the middle of his chest. The man cried out and fell to the ground. The other attacker raised his sword above his head and continued rushing toward Kain.
With legs shaking, his mind numb with fear, Kain waited until the last moment, then spun out of the way of his attacker. He swung his sword as he moved. The sword of Onnasus, now out of its scabbard, truly felt part of the young Prince. He felt it cutting into the strange man. It was both sickening and exhilarating as he felt a sense of power over his enemy. He turned to see the man falling, face down in a silent heap.
When Kain turned back to the man he had stopped with metal egg, Fairan was already standing over him. The man was still gasping for breath when Fairan thrust his sword into him. There was a wretched little cry, and then the man died. Fairan pulled his big sword free and turned to Kain.
“You did excellent,” he said as he pulled a cloth from his knapsack and began wiping the blood from his sword.
At that moment the adrenaline wore off and Kain’s legs turned to rubber. He looked down at the man he had killed and saw dark puddle of blood seeping slowly into the dirt around the body. Kain’s stomach convulsed and he turned quickly from the man, fell to his knees, and retched. It was a horrible ordeal that lasted several minutes, but when it was finally over, Kain felt better, although he was weak and shaky. When he turned around, he saw that Fairan was coming back into the circle of firelight from the gloom beyond. The body of the man Kain had killed was gone, so were the other three.
“You should eat,” ordered Fairan.
“I don’t think I can.”
“You can,” Fairan’s voice was grim. “It will help you feel better and give you strength. You’re going to need it, and there isn’t much time.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that was just the beginning of a long night.”
“What…you mean there are more of them?”
Fairan nodded his head as he handed Kain bread and meat.
“But why? Why would they not all come together?”
“I imagine they wanted to asses our strength before they committed themselves.”
“This makes no sense,” Kain said, taking a bite of the bread.
“What makes no sense is that Derrick’s men would only send four men to kill me. Four inexperienced fighters are no match for one well armed warrior. And I am not your average warrior,” said the big man with a smile.
Kain could taste nothing. He ate out of habit, his brain running a continuous memory of the fight. He listened to Fairan, but the words made no sense. He could not imagine anyone knowingly sending men to their death. It seemed such a waste. Men were dead so that he could be King, a role, a duty, he wasn’t even sure he wanted. He had killed a man, and his spirit groaned within him. Tears began to come.
“It is good that we have fought your first battle together, but apart from all others.”
Kain felt ashamed and angry and guilty for being alive. He covered his face with his hands and tried to quiet his sobs.
“I have never known a good man who didn’t struggle after killing a man for the first time. I remember the first battle your father and I were in. We were just boys…” Fairan mused for a moment, reliving the memory in his mind. “We rode out to the border on a routine patrol. There were eight of us in all, and without warning we were ambushed by 14 Oddolan raiders. Three of our own party were killed and two wounded before we drove them off. I had killed a man. I remember his face was dirty and wrinkled and full of hate, and yet I felt like the world was ending. I threw up, cried, and fell into a fit of depression. It did not matter to me that we were being attacked and merely defending ourselves. In fact we were protecting the citizens of Belanda; that is what your father told me. We had ridden for two days in a fog of doubt and self loathing for our actions, when we stopped at a village. I stayed in our camp on the outskirts of the village, but your father had to escort the wounded into town for help. He met a family there; the mother and oldest son were killed by the raiders we had fought. Your father returned to camp that day with a new sense of what it meant to be a king. And he told me that we were required to give our lives, our talents, even our most dearly held convictions, not for a country, but for people.”
Kain looked up, his face was ashen but the shaking had stopped.
“Who were we protecting today?”
“The fathers and mothers, sons and daughters of thousands and thousands of families. Do you not understand that these men we killed today would have authority in service to a king who would view the people of this realm as less than human? They would pervert their power, maiming and killing anyone who challenged that authority. Just look at the men who were sent to fight us—was the man you killed trained to use a sword?”
“No.”
“That is an example of the kind of man we are fighting to stop from ruling this land. I would not have taken you from the only home you knew, just for the sake of you being king. You have the right to rule, but more importantly, the people need you to stand against those who would harm them. You are the only one who can do that. And I can guarantee you there will be more bloodshed. In fact, you will have to lead men to certain death before you can rest on a throne.”
“And you think I would that? That I could do that?”
“What you will do is yet to be seen. What you can do, I would say, from what I have seen tonight, is what has to be done. And I would further say that you have some skill at it.”
“What kind of warrior retches over those he kills and cries like a baby afterward?”
“I would be worried had you not cried. I have known warriors who weep after every battle. We have to do the right things, but we also have to deal with the reality that the right things are sometimes horrible, gruesome things. But we have the responsibility to do them for those who cannot.”
“I can’t say that I agree with you. I just have no frame of reference for any of this. I have read of wars, of fighting and killing, but what comes across as so obvious, so completely right or wrong on paper, just doesn’t translate to the reality of taking the life of another person.”
“You will have time to think of it. Pray to your god, and you will come to see your life as your father saw his own. I see so much of him in you.”
Kain looked at the old warrior. The man’s face was lined with the trials of life, the burden of war, and, perhaps most noticeably, his grief over the loss of a very dear friend.
“You knew him-”
Before Kain could finish his question, they heard a grunt from Fairan’s horse and the sounds of the horse moving in agitation. Kain quickly stood and reached for his sword. Fairan watched him and nodded with satisfaction. He then motioned for Kain to be prepared for an attack on his flank. They moved into position, waiting for their attackers to show themselves. The waiting was worse this time, as Kain actually had time to think of what was coming. He felt fear’s icy touch and his skin prickled with goose bumps. At the same time, he felt sweat running down his back and trickling under his arms. He pulled out another of the egg-like weapons and flexed his untrained muscles in an effort to stay loose.
At last the attack came. This time the two men who appeared out of the shadows to face Kain came slowly. They had small, round shields and long wooden batons. The one closest to the cliff wore a ragged cloak over a mail shirt. The other man was dressed better, but his appearance was tainted by a gaping hol
e where his left eye should have been. Kain threw the Mog at the man with the ragged clothes. The attacker merely raised his shield and deflected the weapon, although the metal projectile cracked the wood where it struck. Kain’s mind began to race; he had not trained to fight men with shields. He had not trained to take on two men at once.
The man with one eye began to move away from his companion. Kain recognized the value of the tactic to divide his attention, and realized that he would be overcome unless he could keep the men together. Slowly, Kain moved to his right, drawing closer to the one-eyed man who was moving away from the cliff, while continuing to watch the first man, who remained close to the jagged rock. One Eye stopped his maneuver and looked back at his bedraggled companion, who then began to move quickly toward the fire. By this time Fairan had fallen in with attackers on his side of the hill. The sounds of steel striking steel rang out through the night.
Kain knew the men had a plan and decided to take the fight to them before they could spring their trap. He took three quick steps toward the man with one eye and made a quick slash toward the attacker’s thigh. He swung purposefully at the side with the baton, knowing the man would not be able to use his shield to stop the attack and intending to check the mettle of the wooden baton. Kain expected the weapon his attacker was wielding to be a match for his sword. He was wrong. The man instinctively swung his baton to block Kain’s slash, and although the young Prince's swing was less than powerful, it sliced easily through the baton and into the man’s thigh. Kain felt the sword tearing through the man’s flesh and, from the way the man toppled over, he was confident he could turn his attention fully to the man in ragged clothes. That man was near the fire now and he dropped his baton, reached into the ragged cloak, and threw a powder of some sort into the flames. Instantly a thick gray smoke billowed up and began to settle around the camp. In only a moment, Kain was lost in the dense, gray cloud. He felt the urge to panic but held his nerves in check. He kept his sword low as Fairan had instructed him and began to turn slowly, feeling danger on every side but not seeing anyone.
Third Prince (Third Prince Series) Page 3
