The Jake Thomas Trilogy: Book 02 - Sword of Light

by Steven A. Tolle

  “I have heard of that place.” Moshanna said. “Most travelers know to avoid it. It is said that if you enter that city, you will never come out.”

  “Which makes it an ideal place to hide the sword.” Tomaris replied. “It is possible that our enemies have taken steps to encourage that reputation to keep the clerics and others away.”

  “If there are demons there, shouldn’t we have more clerics than myself?” Taric asked. “I am not afraid of facing demons, but if there are enough present, I will not be able to stand against them.”

  “You might find nothing but long-abandoned buildings and dust.” Tomaris said reassuringly. “However, if you can determine that the sword is there, then you will need to recruit additional allies. Perhaps the Aletonian clerics would assist.”

  “That assumes we don’t get ourselves killed before we can send such a request.” Taric replied sarcastically, a grim smile on his face.

  “I have the utmost confidence in your abilities.” Tomaris said pleasantly. “Besides their fighting skills, Dominic knows how our enemies think and act while Moshanna knows the people and the land in which you travel. You are strong in your power, giving them protection from the dark power of the demons. Keep your faith in the Creator.”

  Tomaris stood. “You should rest. You will leave tomorrow night, slipping out while the Keep sleeps. While I am confident that our enemies cannot penetrate the Keep, it is prudent to assume that they have informants watching it.”

  Dominic and Taric had been given rooms near where he and Jake had stayed during their time at the Keep. Dominic had taken advantage of the bath to clean up. When he had come out to the main room, drying off, there had been a gentle knock on the door. He cracked open the door to see Tomaris standing in the hallway.

  “May I come in?” The old man had asked.

  Dominic nodded, stepped aside and allowed him to enter. Tomaris had gone over to sit on the edge of the bed across from the desk. Dominic retreated into the bath area, putting on a clean shirt and pants and returned. He pulled the chair away from the desk, his sword belt hanging over the back of the chair, and sat down.

  “I do not mean to interrupt your relaxation, but I wanted to speak with you alone.” Tomaris said once he had settled.

  “What do you wish to say?” Dominic asked.

  “You have the most experience dealing with our enemies.” The old man replied, staring into Dominic’s eyes. “While Moshanna and Taric are confident in their skills and power, they will naturally look to you for leadership. I know why you refuse healing if you can, but in this quest, I must ask you to allow Taric to heal you. Your battle knowledge may be critical for success. This quest is more than simply helping the child return home. With the Guardian’s sword, we may have a tool to rid this world of the demons and their influence. Think of all of the innocents that may be spared the terror that the demons bring if we succeed.” He paused for a moment. “Will you give me your word that you will accept healing?”

  “I will accept healing, if refusing would prevent me from continuing.” Dominic replied directly. “I will not accept it for minor or trivial wounds.”

  “That will be sufficient.” Tomaris said quietly. He continued gently. “Someday, I hope that you will be able to let go of your pain and stop punishing yourself. Some things are beyond our control, no matter how much we think otherwise.”

  “Only death will release me from my loss.” Dominic stated bluntly.

  “As you will, Dominic.” Tomaris said, nodding his head. “I do not wish you to be angry with me. Please forgive me if I have caused you any additional hurt.”

  “There is nothing to forgive, Tomaris.” Dominic said with a wave of his hand. He smiled briefly. “Jonas has been saying the same things to me for years.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments. Dominic was content to wait until the old man spoke.

  “May I see your sword?” Tomaris asked suddenly, holding out his hand. “I would like to see how the Mastersmith used the formula I gave Jonas.”

  Shrugging, Dominic reached behind him and drew his sword, handing it to Tomaris. The old man sat there studying the blade for a bit, running his fingers over it, eyes sharp, looking closely at the metal. He turned it over in his hands, then held it out to Dominic, hilt first.

  “That is marvelous work; he is a skilled craftsman.” Tomaris said as Dominic took the sword. When he pulled it back, he saw a trace of blood on it. Tomaris looked down at his hand, a small cut visible on his palm. “You keep it sharp as well.” He said with a chuckle.

  Tomaris reached out with his robe sleeve and quickly wiped the blood off the blade. He pulled out a piece of cloth from his robe, wrapping his hand as Dominic put away the sword. “The curse of old age: slow reflexes.” Tomaris said wirily, rising from the edge of the bed. “I will let you get some rest and see you off tomorrow night.”

  The following night, after the Keep had gone to sleep, Dominic, Moshanna and Taric went down to the stables. They were saddling their horses when Tomaris appeared and went over to Moshanna. Even though they spoke softly, Dominic was able to hear what they said in the quiet of the night.

  “I know that you do not wish this trip, my son.” Tomaris said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You are needed or I would not ask it of you.”

  “I have pledged to obey you.” Moshanna had responded. “I go where you command, Tomaris.”

  Tomaris simply nodded, then stood by, waiting until they were saddled and ready to ride. He stepped close and said. “If you are successful, there may be a new dawn in this world. Trust and protect each other. Look for allies along the way. May the blessings of the Creator go with you.”

  They had ridden out through a secret tunnel that emerged deep in the Gray Ridges. Moshanna led them through the mountains and into the forest without incident.

  A wagon appeared on the road below, bringing Dominic out of his memories. He was about to turn to speak with the others when something about the wagon stopped him. He looked at it closely, the figures small at this distance. He saw a rider on a horse in front of the wagon, with a slim man and a large man riding the wagon. As he watched, he could just make out the white hair on the slim man.

  He swung up into Shadow’s saddle. He glanced over at the other two, who were looking curiously at him. “Wait here.” He said shortly as he rode into the forest, paralleling the road.

  …

  Martis was lost in thought as Ranech drove the horses, Frader riding a little ahead of the wagon. He was trying to figure out how he could recover from where he had fallen. He just knew that he needed to get somewhere safe. Ever since they had fled that cursed town Numaria, he had been calling in his accounts and cashing out. He had closed his accounts in Beragan, collecting the gold that was safely stored in the wagon’s secret compartment. They had ridden into Aletonia, cautiously making their way south, stopping at villages or towns only when they needed supplies or where he had interests. His caution was well founded, as his former business partner had made abundantly clear. He felt a surge of anger and fear as his mind drifted back to those events.

  Just two days ago, they had stopped at Jaquin’s store in a medium sized town north of where they currently were. He and Martis had ties that stretched back years, ties that had been profitable for both. After some haggling, Martis had sold him his shares of the outstanding business they still had together. Jaquin had driven a hard bargain, sensing Martis’ desire to be gone, and purchased the shares for a fraction of their worth. Martis had hated to sell for the price he did, but he wanted to sever all of the ties that could lead back to him.

  Jaquin had invited them back to his home, which was on the outskirts of town, asking that they join him for a meal before they leave. They had arrived at Jaquin’s home, a large wooden structure with a stone fireplace, simple but elegantly constructed, befitting a relatively successful merchant. They sat in the living area, drinking wine while Jaquin’s wife, a pleasant and attractive woman in a dress that emphasiz
ed her large bosom, and their son, a thin boy in his mid-teens, prepared the evening meal. When they finally sat down to eat, Jaquin sent his son out on an errand.

  “Just something that needs to be done tonight.” Jaquin said when he saw Martis frown at the departing lad. “The boy can eat when he finishes his duties.”

  It was after the meal, as Jaquin and he were sitting in two overstuffed chairs, sipping more wine and talking, when Martis figured out what the errand was about.

  “Martis, I heard a disturbing report the other day.” Jaquin said as he absently swirled his wine in his cup, his eyes sharp and predatory. “A customer was talking about how a man was wanted in Sanduas for consorting with demons.”

  Martis stiffened, glancing over at Ranech and Frader, who were talking and flirting with Jaquin’s wife in the next room. He tried to cover it by coughing, but he could tell that Jaquin had seen his movement.

  “He pulled out the description and showed me. There is quite a large reward offered to whoever brings in an older white-haired man, posing as a merchant. He is said to be accompanied by two hired hands.” Jaquin said quietly. His face had a cruel smile on it, greed in his eyes. “You can imagine my surprise when I realized that it was none other than my old business partner.”

  Terror coursing through his body, Maris lashed out and smashed his cup into Jaquin’s face, sending him tumbling out of his chair, while crying out to Frader and Ranech. He heard Jaquin’s wife begin to scream, which cut off when Ranech wrapped his arm around her throat and squeezed. Frader ran over and, at Martis’ nod, thrust his knife into Jaquin’s chest as he was trying to get off the carpet. He groaned and shuddered, then sank back to the floor, his blood spreading its dark stain across the light carpet. Ranech squeezed and twisted his arm, breaking Jaquin’s wife’s neck. She collapsed when he released her, a crumpled heap on the floor.

  Panting from fear, Martis had ordered them out. Frader overturned some lanterns as they raced out to the wagon, setting the house ablaze. As they rode away, angling away from the town, they caught a glimpse of soldiers riding along the road, torches held high, heading to Jaquin’s. They rode as fast as the night would allow, circling back to the road and riding through the night. We can head to the far south and ride over the mountains into the city-states. He thought. I can find a place to hide out there. Hopefully.

  Shaking his head and returning to the present, he wondered again how this all happened. Ever since he had been dragged into the search for that boy, his life had been turned upside down. He was cut off from his familiar haunts, could not trust anyone anymore, and was now a wanted man. Worse of all, he was now known as working with the demons, the thing he had kept hidden for all these years. Cursing silently to himself, he thought. I do not see how this could get any worse.

  Glancing up, as if summoned by his statement, the thing that had given him nightmares materialized. It took the shape of a large warrior, scarred face cold and hard, riding a black warhorse, coming out of the woods and blocking their path.

  …

  Taric stood with Moshanna, watching as Dominic rode out and confronted the wagon. He saw the man on the horse in front of the wagon draw his sword and charge Dominic, ignoring the cries of one of the men on the wagon.

  “Idiot.” He heard Moshanna say quietly next to him.

  Dominic’s sword flashed, catching the sunlight as he drew it. He rode into the man’s charge, sword slashing as they passed. Taric saw the man sway, then slide out of his saddle, tumbling to the ground.

  Riding forward, Dominic pointed his sword as the two men on the wagon, dark spots of blood on the blade. Taric was too far away to hear what he said, but saw the men throw their knives and other weapons in the back of the wagon. He watched as the large man climbed down and picked up the fallen man, carrying the body and setting it in the wagon as well. Dominic had taken the reins of the fallen man’s horse. He pointed with his sword towards where Taric and Moshanna were standing. The wagon turned and headed across the field in their direction, Dominic riding behind them.

  …

  Once the wagon was in the safety of the woods, Dominic dismounted. He saw that Moshanna had drawn his sword and was standing ready if the men made any moves. He strode up to the wagon, looking up at the men.

  “Get down.” He ordered, face set and his eyes like ice.

  He watched them scramble down. When they were on the ground, he ordered them to kneel down and looked over at Moshanna.

  “If they try to move, kill them.” He stated, Moshanna giving him a short nod in return.

  He went over and inspected the wagon. There were some supplies surrounding the dead man in the wagon bed, but nothing of real value. He crawled under the bed, taking his dagger and tapping the hilt on the wooden planks. He noticed a slight difference in sound towards the middle of the bed as compared to the sides. He slid out from under the wagon and went over to the men.

  “I know that there is a compartment built into the wagon bed.” He said as he stared down at the white-haired man. “You will open it or I burn the wagon to the ground to get inside.”

  The man nodded fearfully and, at Dominic’s gesture, went under the wagon and opened the hidden compartment. He scrambled back next to the large man when Dominic pointed.

  Dominic crawled back under the wagon and look inside the compartment. He saw several large pouches shoved towards the front of the compartment. He pulled one out, feeling the weight and hearing the clicking of coins. He opened it to see it filled with gold and silver coins. He shoved it back in and closed the hatch.

  “Cleric, see if they are under the influence of the demons.” He told Taric.

  Taric nodded, his form suddenly shining, and placed his hand on the white-haired man. Nothing happened. He repeated the process with the fat man with similar results. Stepping back, Taric said. “They are normal men, Dominic.”

  “Merchant, you will now tell me everything you know about what the demons are doing.” Dominic stated as he knelt in front of the man. “You do not want me to have to pull answers from you.” The man flinched.

  Haltingly at first, the man began speaking. He claimed that he was forced by the demons to do what he did. He thought tracking down Jake was his only mission. He claimed to not know that the demons would attack the city. He was ordered to follow Dominic and Jake to Numaria.

  Dominic was sure that the man was hiding more, but they did not have time to spend interrogating him. He stood, knowing what he needed to do. He glanced over at Moshanna, who caught his meaning and nodded.

  Taric also saw the look. “No, Dominic!” He said as he placed himself in front of the men. “I will not allow you to murder these men.”

  “In their own words, they have admitted to consorting with demons.” Dominic said sharply. “They helped the demons attack the city. We cannot keep them with us and I will not release them back into the world.”

  “Then we must turn them over to the Aletonian authorities.” Taric said resolutely. “I am a servant of the One. These men may be followers of the demons, but they are men; you saw me examine them. They should answer for their crimes, but it must be by trial. That way, they may have a chance to reflect on their transgressions and make amends with the One prior to any punishment. I am concerned for their eternal spirits, not their physical bodies.”

  “Clerics.” Dominic said, shaking his head, resigned. He looked over at Moshanna. “What do you think? Can we find a way to get them to a local garrison?”

  Dominic saw Moshanna grimace, then nod his head slowly. “We can take the road.” He finally said. “We will encounter a village large enough to have a garrison.”

  “Is there a problem with that?” He asked, noticing the reluctance.

  Sighing, Moshanna looked over at him. “When I left Aletonia and went to serve Tomaris, I left behind some enemies.” He said quietly. “That is why I wanted to pass through the country with minimal contact. If my enemies know I am here, there will be trouble.”

  �
�We will try to keep this short.” Dominic replied, looking over toward Taric. “If you are going to insist on this.”

  “I am.” Taric stated.

  He faced the kneeling men. “The cleric has saved your life today.” He said, voice emotionless. “You will ride in the wagon, following me, until we reach the garrison. If you make any attempt to flee, I will end you both, despite anything the cleric says. Is that clear?” The men fearfully nodded their understanding.

  Shortly, they were riding out of the forest and taking the road south. Dominic took the lead, with Taric and Moshanna following behind the wagon. Moshanna pulled up his hood, hiding his face as they rode forward.

  It was near dark when they finally reached the village of Arpetigo. The village was spread out on either side of the road, the buildings made of wood with stone foundations. They received some curious looks, but no one stopped them. Near the south end of the village, Moshanna told them, was one of the roads that ran east towards the capital. At the junction of the roads was the fortress of the local garrison, a squat stone building with large wooden gates. The gates were open and a pair of soldiers were lighting torches on either side of the gates. Dominic led them to the gates, stopping when a guard stepped into the middle of the path, holding up his left hand, palm out.

  “Identify yourself and state your business.” The soldier said, tone brisk and businesslike. He was dressed in armor, chainmail encasing his arms and legs, with a breastplate over his chest. He had a long sword belted around his waist and a round steel helm covering his head. He held a long wooden spear in his right hand; the tip was a wicked looking barbed steel point.

  “I am Dominic of Sanduas and I bring captives to turn over to the queen’s justice.” Dominic replied formally.

  “Lord Demonhunter.” The man said, eyes going wide and bowing. “I am Sergeant Sefan Riverborn. It is my honor to greet you.”