Dominic saw that Moshanna had followed his gaze. They shared a look, both slightly bemused. After Halana had used her healing to help Taric with his seasickness, they had become inseparable on the ship. They were always together, often just the two of them, talking quietly, their interest in each other obvious.
“Are you sure this isn’t why Jonas sent you with me?” He had said to Taric on the third day at sea. “Maybe he was hoping to see you married off.”
Taric had flushed bright red, embarrassed. “It is not like that, Dominic. Halana is a skilled healer and she is simply teaching me new techniques.”
“I thought clerics were supposed to tell the truth, Brother.” Dominic replied, cocking an eyebrow. He clapped the young cleric on the shoulder as Taric sputtered, trying to figure out a response. “Just make sure the mission is finished before you decide to run off together.”
By mid-day, they halted to water and rest the horses. They ate a quick meal, sitting in the shadow of their horses and refilling all of the waterskins from the wagon.
“This heat can easily kill you.” Welsen, one of the Aletonian clerics, told them all as they prepared to mount. He and Quilian, the fourth cleric, were both older men, each having served with the army. “Until we grow use to it, we all must continue to drink water. Everyone should be consuming at least a skin an hour.”
“We will all do as you say, Brother.” Dominic ordered.
They reached to the main north-south trade route in the late afternoon. After another short break where the clerics checked on the condition of both man and horse, they turned south. The road, if it could be called that, was lightly traveled.
“There is not much, if any, trade with the people of the Southern Wilds.” Moshanna announced as they headed south. “I was assigned to the garrison here for some time when I was a soldier. While not much is known about their customs, they are a tribal people, constantly warring with each other. Some in the north had headed south, hotheads looking for adventure and clerics going to spread the message of the One or just to attempt to understand the southerners. Few ever came back. We may run into bands of the Wild men as we head south. Unless they outnumber us, they are likely to scatter. While a fight is unlikely, we must stay vigilant.”
As the sun set in the west, they stopped and made camp, finding a suitable place a short way off the road. As night settled over the hills, the temperature began to fall. After a day of oppressive heat, the relatively cool night felt cold. Some of the party began to shiver and wrapped themselves in their sleeping blankets.
Dominic set the soldiers’ schedule for watch with Stonebuilder, checked on Shadow, and then went over to sit next to Moshanna.
“What can we expect going forward?” He asked.
“We should be able to make it to the road that leads to Parshalthia tomorrow.” Moshanna replied quietly. “I have never been there, but I was told that it is only about a half-day ride to the ruins from there.”
Dominic nodded. “Do the Wild men travel there? Should we expect to have contact with them?”
Moshanna shook his head. “I doubt it. From what I know of them, they tend to stick to the trading route, raiding those unfortunates that venture too far south. I am more concerned about coming across the demons and their followers.”
He glanced over towards the clerics, who were sitting near the wagon. “We only have four clerics. We must make sure that they are protected or we will surely fail. I would recommend that we assign a soldier to each. That will only leave us and five soldiers to maneuver, but we need the clerics whole and fighting, if we face the demons.”
Dominic considered it, and then nodded. “In the morning, I will have Stonebuilder task his men to protect the clerics.”
They broke camp in the early morning, riding out as the sun was rising. As the day passed, the heat rose and was as brutal as the day before. Traveling through the rocky terrain, the route would sometimes lead into small canyons that produced enough shade to provide a small measure of relief from the harsh heat. Despite the relative comfort of the canyons, Dominic refused to stop to rest while in them. He preferred open ground where they could see their enemies coming.
In the late afternoon, as they were cresting a hill, Moshanna halted the column and pointed down along the path. In the distance, through the heat shimmer rising from the ground, Dominic saw a small group of men running from the rocky outcroppings that lined the route ahead. He could just make out what looked like light-colored armor on the men and long wooden spears held in their hands. The group turned south along the route and, constantly looking back over their shoulders towards the outcroppings, continued to run.
“Wild men?” He asked Moshanna.
“Yes.” Moshanna replied as he studied the outcroppings ahead. “They appear to be fleeing from something and I don’t think it was us.”
Dominic nodded, having thought the same thing. He turned and spoke to the rest of the party. “We are continuing forward, but remain alert and ready. The Wild men appear to be running from something, so there is likely danger ahead. If attacked, we will charge through the ambush, then wheel around.”
They rode forward, the rocky outcroppings a ragged maze of red and gray stone. The soldiers held their spears at the ready, the clerics glowing in power while Dominic and Moshanna drew their swords. As they entered the area, a palatable tension had gripped the group, eyes scanning the rocks for peril.
Except for the sounds of the horses and the wagon as they moved, the air had gone still. In that stillness, Dominic heard the faint sounds of movement amongst the rocks. He tried to locate the position of the sound, but it faded away. There was a brief moment of quiet before Taric cried out as he launched a blast of clerics’ fire. “Demons!”
Out of the rocks from both sides of the route, six Imps came leaping out, bodies surrounded by their power. Taric’s blow struck one of the demons, slamming it back into a boulder. The other clerics began to fight with the demons, deflecting the attacks while the soldiers lowered their spears, surging forward.
Right behind the demons came at least fifteen of their followers, howling and charging forward. Dominic wheeled to face the ones on his side of the route while Moshanna leapt from his horse, moving forward, sword ready, more comfortable fighting on the ground.
As Dominic charged Shadow into the group coming out of the rocks, a wide wave of clerics’ fire streaked past him and slammed into the men. The half-men in the group exploded into ash, but the others moved forward unharmed. Dominic rode directly into them, sword swinging. He caught one with a stroke to the head, the man crumpling to the ground, then deflected a swing from another’s sword. Shadow ran another down, his hind legs kicking out.
Dominic realized that the close proximity of the rocks would prevent Shadow from effective maneuvering, so he slid from the horse, rolling to his feet and seeing the two men racing forward. He drew his dagger and met their charge. He slipped past the first man, deflecting his blade, and then drove his dagger into the throat of the second man. Releasing the dagger as the man collapsed, he spun and engaged the other man. His opponent was good, his sword moving quickly, but Dominic charged into his guard, the man’s sword deflected by his breastplate and smashed his forearm into the man’s face. As the man staggered back, Dominic’s sword was already moving. His thrust caught the man between his throat and the top of his armor. The man collapsed, blood pulsing from the wound.
With no other followers near him, Dominic ran forward. He caught a glimpse of a demon ahead. He bounded off a short rock near the demon and leapt forward, sword overhead, point down. The demon, which was directing its followers, must have heard his approach. It spun, dark power coursing around its body.
Time seemed to slow for Dominic. He saw the black fire gather in the demon’s hands, then launch towards him. He knew that he could not avoid the blow. Embrace the pain. He grimly told himself, praying his momentum would allow him drive his sword home before he died.
Just as the demon f
ire reached his body, brilliant golden-white light burst from his sword. The light shattered the demon’s attack, overwhelming its dark power. Before the demon could react, Dominic’s sword slammed into its chest, the glowing blade sizzling as it slid in. The demon screamed once, then convulsed, exploding into ash, driving Dominic back.
He stared at his sword for a moment, the blade normal again. It had to be Tomaris. He thought, recalling the old man handling his sword. He should have given me some warning. That sudden light has startled him so much that he had almost dropped the sword.
Shaking off his thoughts, he surged back into the fight. Another demon fell to his sword, the light flaring again, and then he was engaged with three of the demons’ followers. He was using all of his skill to keep their blades away, his single blade a blur as he parried their blows. Suddenly, a spear point thrust from behind him on his left, taking one of his opponents in the stomach. Another spear flashed past him on his right, knocking the other man back, followed by Stonebuilder with his sword in his hand.
“Hold!” Dominic heard Moshanna shout behind him as he finished the man in front of him with a couple of swift blows. Dominic turned around to see the remaining two demons retreating with what was left of their followers into the stones across the route, deflecting the clerics’ attacks as they fled.
Dominic saluted Stonebuilder and the other soldier that had come to his aid. He whistled, calling Shadow. The horse made its way through the rocks back to him. Dominic swung into the saddle and rode forward. He saw that two of the soldiers were dead, burned down by the demons. The clerics were all unharmed, moving around healing the wounded.
Dominic rode over to Moshanna, who was inspecting the body of one of the fallen demon followers. He was unharmed, his skill with the sword protecting him.
“Anything useful?” Dominic asked.
Moshanna stood and shrugged his shoulders. “This man was Aletonian, but was not under the demons’ power. I have heard that some serve willingly, but this is the first time I have faced one such. There is nothing on him to give any clues, but I’m not sure I like what it portends.”
“We will probably face more troubling things tomorrow, if the sword is in the ruins.” Dominic said quietly, gazing towards the setting sun. “Let’s move off and find a safe place to camp. We will all need our rest before tomorrow.”
…
Far to the north and west, where the sun was still well above the horizon, a hooded and robed figure sat in the woods, watching. Bruce Tilia needed to find someone who could carry the sword and this looked to be a likely spot.
While he sat on his horse waiting and watching, he shifted uncomfortably. Something about these woods reminded him of Anderson Grove back home. He could not tell what it was, maybe the trees, but it brought back memories. Even though he hated those memories, they still came, unbidden and unwelcome.
He had been awkward as a teenager, thin, gangly and a bit of a klutz. His interest in sci-fi and fantasy over sports identified him as a geek. When he finally hit puberty, his reward was a bad case of acne. His family had struggled to make ends meet, so he never had the cool clothes and a car was out of the question. He had a couple of friends, geeks like him, but he always desired what he perceived as the good life of the rich kids.
Unfortunately, that was never to be. Despite his best efforts to fit in, Tim Masters and Joe Wallace had made high school a living hell for him. Tim played baseball and was considered one of the best looking guys in his class, tall with blond hair and blue eyes. His friend Joe, dark-haired and shorter, spent his free time in the weight room and was known as quite the lady’s man. They ridiculed Bruce at every chance, pulling cruel pranks on him and humiliating him in front of the girls. The pivotal moment came after he had summoned the courage to send Sally Hill, a pretty and popular girl in his math class whom he had desperately wanted to date, a note asking her out.
To his surprise, he received a return note, signed by Sally, asking him to meet her at Anderson Grove after school. She explained that her friends would never understand, so she wanted to meet him privately. Such was his excitement over her response that he never considered it was anything but an honest reply.
He had walked out to the Grove, constantly checking himself to ensure he looked his best. He went to the spot where she said to meet her, getting there early. He was thinking about what he should say, gathering his courage, when a familiar voice startled him out of his contemplation.
“What a dumbass!” He heard Tim’s voice sound from the trees nearby. His heart sank as he saw Tim and Joe walk out of the Grove. Tim was looking at him with a cruel gleam in his eyes. “Did you really believe that someone like Sally would actually be interested in you?” He spat contemptuously.
“You are such a retard!” Joe said, a smirk on his face. His hands curled into fists. “I’m going to enjoy kicking your ass.”
Bruce sprang to his feet, backing away. He knew his only options were to fight, which was out of the question, or run. Tim and Joe’s positions meant that the only way to run was back into the Grove. Maybe I can lose them in the trees. He thought.
Before either of them reacted, Bruce spun and ran as fast as he could into the Grove. He heard the hoots of laughter coming from behind him.
“Keep running!” He heard Joe shout gleefully. “You will only end up tired and beaten when I am done with you.”
Terrified by the thought of those two catching him, Bruce ran as hard as he could. He turned and weaved through the trees, trying to shake his pursuers. He soon lost track of where he was running. He came out into the clearing around the pond, his breath ragged in his throat.
Stopping to catch his breath, he knelt on the rock that jutted into the pond. His heart pounding, he heard his tormenters getting closer. He knew that they would soon have him. He blinked back the sudden tears, anticipating the pain that would shortly be visited upon him.
A desperate idea formed when he saw the tall reeds that were growing in the middle of the pond. He slid into the cold water and made his way to the reeds, hoping that he could hide in them and praying they would give him enough cover. He treaded water, trying to stay as still as possible. He had just caught a glimpse of Tim coming out of the woods when it felt like something grabbed him by his legs and he was pulled under.
Instinctively, he screamed, knowing it was stupid, but instead of swallowing water, he found himself surrounded in a bright light. He could not move, the light wrapping tightly around his body. It had been warm in the light, the only sensation being one of movement.
Lost in that warmth, he had not been prepared when the darkness suddenly slammed into the light. He had been terrified anew when the darkness had overcome the light, surrounding him in a cold, black oblivion. The cold was everywhere, numbing his mind, but the sensation of movement had continued.
The darkness began to fade, slowly dissipating like a mist. When it cleared, he had found himself on a rocky hill, a cool costal wind blowing. He looked around, seeing some scattered trees amongst the rocks, the sky overcast, filled with roiling gray clouds. Falling to his knees, he held his head in his hands, certain that he was losing his mind.
While he knelt there, completely bewildered, he felt suddenly lightheaded. As he sat down to forestall falling over, his heart still pounding in his chest, he heard the approach of horses. He looked up to see a group of men on horses come riding over the hill. Bruce saw that they were armed with swords and wearing leather armor with metal rings sewed in. They rode up to him and encircled him.
Bruce saw the wild look in their eyes for the first time. They were grinning at him, taunting him as they circled him. They finally stopped, the man apparently in charge sliding off his horse. Bruce tried to talk with him, to find out what was happening, but the man simply laughed and slapped him hard across the face. The man roughly grabbed him by the arm, twisting it and forcing him to the ground. Shortly, Bruce found himself bound and draped over a horse.
The men rode off, laugh
ing and joking, Bruce bouncing against the horse’s back. His head rocking back and forth, Bruce could only catch glimpses of where they were going. It was only when the men slowed that he was able to see what lay ahead.
Before them was a large fortress, made of ugly dark gray stones, towering above the rolling hills, a heavy metal gate near the base. It reminded Bruce of something out of one of his fantasy novels. The men rode up to the gate and stopped.
He was dragged off the horse and yanked to his feet, the men unconcerned if they hurt him. They pushed him into the fortress, prodding him along with kicks and blows. The large hallway he found himself was cold and frightening, with only a few torches lighting the way.
Suddenly, he felt as if something had seized his heart and slammed him into an icy lake, pure terror coursing through his body. A short robed figure appeared in the hallway ahead of him. The men guarding him bowed as the figure approached, dragging Bruce to his knees. Bruce’s teeth were chattering, tears welling in his eyes, feeling like he was going to piss himself as the figure stopped in front of him. He stared in horror at the brown-scaled face, those black eyes and sharp teeth.
“I will take him from here.” The Imp said, clutching Bruce’s arm. The men bowed again and left. The demon yanked Bruce to his feet. “Let’s go, boy. My Master awaits you.” It said with a low chuckle that froze Bruce’s blood.
He was half-dragged down the hall and pulled through the set of double doors. He caught a glimpse of the stone throne and that swirling black vortex before he was slammed to the stone floor.
The Jake Thomas Trilogy: Book 02 - Sword of Light Page 25
