Rune of the Apprentice (The Rune Chronicles)

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Rune of the Apprentice (The Rune Chronicles) Page 15

by Jamison Stone

“No!” Aleksi shouted. “No, no, no!” The youth placed his bandaged hand over the amulet. Hearing the clash of swords behind him, Aleksi focused his mind and all sound faded from his ears. As he did his best to ignore the raging pain of his Rune, Aleksi’s arm shook violently and he focused all of his concentration into the amulet.

  Aleksi could feel power flow through his body as the amulet blinked back to life. The pain of his Rune surged up the nerves of his arm and threatened to consume him, but Aleksi knew that if he held it back, Beck would die. Pouring the energy of his Rune into the amulet, Aleksi opened himself fully, allowing his Rune to dig its metallic tendrils deeper into his arm.

  Despite Aleksi’s efforts, it was not enough—Beck’s chest still remained broken. Deep blues and purples marred the general’s crushed torso, and breath had not returned to his ruined lungs.

  Desperately refocusing his mind, Aleksi directed everything he had into his Rune. The veins of his arms bulged as his Rune’s light began to shine out through his fingers, causing the amulet’s faint glow to grow stronger in response. Aleksi felt as though the bones of his arm burned with holy essence and he let it flow through him into the amulet. Absorbing Aleksi’s power, the amulet shone even more brilliantly.

  Suddenly, surrounded by a web of interconnected Runes which floated in the air, ethereal tendrils emanated from the amulet and worked their way through Beck’s skin and into his lungs. Aleksi continued to pour himself into the amulet as its numinous power then reknitted Beck’s flesh and bones under his now-shimmering skin.

  Beck’s back arched violently and his chest heaved with breath. As the general blew out a rattling exhalation, Aleksi was astonished to see that though bruised, Beck’s chest was now no longer concave. Due to the Runic power of the amulet, it had miraculously regained its normal shape.

  As the light of the amulet grew faint, Aleksi fell backward and cradled his bandaged fist against his chest. The pain under his flesh was profound, as if his bones were on fire and his flesh were melting away. Tension gripped him as the searing pain surged deeper into his shoulder—and then was gone. Head spinning, the youth rolled to his side as sound violently returned to his ears. With a look of disbelief, Aleksi stared at his bandaged hand. Somehow, both the pain and light of his Rune had disappeared.

  Behind him, Aleksi heard a guttural roar and turned to see Nara Simha holding a Pa’laer lieutenant aloft by the neck. Scattered bodies were strewn at the Lionman’s feet, and the paving stones were slick with their blood. Nara’s massive right arm suspended the lieutenant, and the Berzerker’s gauntleted fingers were wrapped around the man’s throat in a death hold. Nara’s upper body was flexed and his multitudes of deep scars stood out clearly on the striations of his rippling flesh. Aleksi had never witnessed such an outward sign of pure muscular strength.

  The Pa’laer lieutenant struggled violently against Nara’s grip. The man soon became still, however, and his eyes rolled back into his head. Nara tossed the soldier’s body aside and turned to Aleksi. The youth was now standing over Beck and his right hand was deftly gripping the hilt of his sheathed blade.

  “It looks like you have some secrets of your own, boy,” Nara said, as he stretched his massive arms wide. The Lionman had several smudged lines of yellow paint on his arms and his eyes were slightly dilated. He wore plain brown pants held up by a thick leather belt. This, combined with his bare chest, clearly showed the size of his monolithic frame. Two large steel bracers adorned his hands and forearms, and other than several small pouches attached to his hefty belt, Nara had nothing else with him.

  Aleksi’s eyes narrowed as Nara continued. “That was a pretty bit of Rune work you did there; however, those soldiers would have cut you down if I had not intervened.”

  Aleksi’s right hand twitched on the hilt of his sword as Nara calmly took a step forward.

  “Fear not,” Nara continued. “I mean you no harm. If I did . . .” The colossal man gestured to the mangled soldiers dead on the ground. “You would already be lying there next to them.”

  “Then . . . I thank you, sir.” Aleksi glanced down at Beck.

  “They were after the general, no doubt,” Nara replied. “But it looks like you have saved him. You do need to get him to safety, though. I’m sure more will be here soon.”

  Although the makeshift lane of tents about them was empty, Aleksi heard sounds of carnage as foreign soldiers butchered the fleeing citizens of Mindra’s Haven close by.

  “He should be able to move, but just barely.” Aleksi knelt down over Beck but still kept his eyes on Nara. “Nara, will you help me?”

  “I remember you,” Beck suddenly wheezed. “Son, what is your name?”

  “My name is Aleksi.”

  “Last night,” Beck continued in a rasping voice, “you had that forsaken pendant at the Guardian’s Flame . . .”

  “Ever more interesting, aren’t you, Aleksi?” Nara said, crossing his immense arms.

  “Nara Simha . . . When did you get here?” Beck tried to sit up unsuccessfully. “I . . . I feel weak. What happened?” Beck’s eyes scanned the bodies strewn about them.

  “Concussion,” Aleksi said, eyeing Nara. “You blacked out.”

  “Well, thank you . . . Thank you both, but I must return to my men.” Shrill cries echoed off of the high buildings at the edge of the square. “Please help me out of my armor. I am too weak to move while encumbered by this heavy mail.”

  “General,” Nara said, as Aleksi knelt down and unbuckled Beck’s steel plates. “Sadly, from what I saw, there was not much left of your legions after the blast.”

  Beck grimaced as Aleksi removed the gauntlet on his right hand. But as the guard came off, Beck looked down at his forearm in confusion. Instead of a gaping wound, he had only a thick scar where the Eastnorthern lieutenant had slashed him.

  “You must get out of sight and to safety,” Nara continued. “I have been patrolling these makeshift streets looking for one of my traveling companions, and I have seen several of these death squads. They are scattered all about.”

  Eyeing the disarray of the tents around them, Beck scowled. “Damned Arva Vatana, I knew he would betray us.”

  “No, Lord,” Aleksi said, removing the last of Beck’s armor. “Although dressed to play the part, these men are not Pa’laer plainsmen.” Beck looked at Aleksi in confusion as the youth continued. “They are Hanval and hail from the—”

  “Northern capital city of Erithlen,” Nara said, finishing Aleksi’s words as he looked at the boy in astonishment.

  “How do you know this?” Beck’s gaze flicked back and forth between Nara’s and Aleksi’s green eyes.

  “Some of these men fight the dance of the Northern Hanval,” Nara continued. “And they are a surreptitious group that never shares their techniques with outsiders. I, Lionman of the North-Eastern Mountains of Iksir, have fought these men my whole life, but I do wonder how young Aleksi knows of the Hanval . . .” Aleksi averted his eyes and Nara grinned wide. “Now it seems that you prefer that certain questions be left unasked.”

  “Questions can come later,” Beck said roughly as he struggled to stand. “All that matters now is that Mehail is dead and I must regroup with the rest of my men and protect the city.”

  “General, I don’t think you understand.” Nara came over and helped Beck to his feet. “Whoever did this did it well. Your men are dead and you must go into hiding.”

  “We will go to the temple, then. The acolytes and High Council Honor Guard should be dug in awaiting reinforcements.” Before Beck could say more, several figures came running down the path.

  Domadred Steele led them, and upon seeing Beck, he sprinted even faster, causing his strands of beaded braids to swing violently. Kefta and Brayden followed him closely. Each had his sword drawn, blood glistening on the blades.

  “Release him!” Domadred snarled as he ran at Nara with sword raised high.

  “Domadred, no!” Beck exclaimed. “They saved me.”

  “Aleksi fo
ught the first wave and I the second,” Nara added. “The general is safe, but not for long.”

  “Aleksi?” Domadred said, sliding to a halt. “Just several hours ago this youth told me his name was Astya.” Aleksi looked away sheepishly and Domadred eyed Aleksi, Nara, and then the multitude of bodies that lay at their feet. “Beck, can Mera Dalh be trusted?”

  Beck frowned. “No, Domadred. She is traitorous filth, dead more than ten years. Stop speaking in code. These men truly did save me, if that is your real question.”

  “Fair enough,” Domadred said, sheathing his blade. “Then, regardless of your real names, you both have my highest thanks.”

  “How did you find me?” Beck asked as Domadred came over and shouldered his friend’s weight.

  “Luckily, I had my eye on you when the explosion hit,” Domadred answered. “I am truly amazed you survived the fall.” Nara looked at Aleksi, but the youth remained silent.

  “I haven’t survived yet,” Beck said, slumping as he tried to turn his body back toward Mindra’s Temple. “I still feel very weak . . .”

  Trying to take a step, Beck sagged and lost the strength in his legs. But as he began to fall, Kefta rushed over and grabbed the general’s other arm. Brayden came beside him and a profoundly concerned look shone in the boy’s moist eyes.

  “Regardless,” Domadred said, leading Beck toward the docks. “Once we get you back to the ship, Doc Marlen will take care of you.”

  “No, Dom,” Beck said, struggling against his friend’s grip. “We must regroup with my men at the temple. We have to fight and retake the city.”

  “This is no fight, Beck.” Domadred’s words were soft. “This is a massacre, and the enemy is the victor. You have men across the channel. With them at your back, you have a chance. Without them, you are only throwing your life away. There is no other choice but to return to the Diamond.”

  As Domadred and Beck continued to debate, Aleksi walked over to the man he had killed just moments before. Kneeling down, Aleksi gazed at the soldier’s lifeless body and then at the Rune under his bandaged palm. The youth then took a deep breath and reached out timid fingers, gently closing the man’s eyes.

  Nara came over and put one of his massive hands on the youth’s shoulder. “You fought incredibly well, son. I saw it from afar. Your first kill, I assume. It’s hard. But it gets easier. I also saw what you—”

  Suddenly, Aleksi doubled over, once again clenching his bandaged hand as it momentarily surged with pain.

  “Were you cut in the fight? Let me see.” Nara reached over to inspect Aleksi’s arm, but the youth flinched away.

  “No, I . . . I’m fine. It’s an old wound and nothing serious.” Aleksi swallowed hard. “It must have reopened. I should keep it bandaged.”

  Nara nodded slowly.

  “Hey, Lionman,” Domadred called out, hoisting Beck up higher on his shoulder, “how does safe passage to somewhere other than here sound?”

  “Captain,” Aleksi said, before Nara could answer, “if you are headed that way, I still need passage to Vai’kel.”

  “Don’t worry, Aleksi. I remember,” Domadred answered. “I’m counting on you to watch my back as we head for the ship. I just want the Lionman to watch our front.”

  “I will go with you on one condition,” Nara answered. “We don’t leave without my companion.”

  “Do what you must. But we are headed straight for the ship to set sail for the other side of the channel the moment my boots hit the deck. You are welcome to join us and will be compensated very well for your trouble. However, if you have more pressing matters, I will leave you to them.”

  Nara frowned but nodded an agreement as a woman’s scream cut across the square.

  “Domadred,” Beck exclaimed, “we must stand our ground and fight for the people! They are getting slaughtered. We must go to the temple!”

  “The East,” Domadred answered, “cannot afford to let you throw your life away out of some misguided love for Mehail. You must live so that you may continue to serve. The people need you now more than ever.”

  “But Brin . . .” Beck’s voice grew hoarse with emotion. “He was on the platform. I . . . I can’t leave him.”

  “Beck, your son is strong and able. We will find him. But if we don’t get your men who are waiting across the channel, that will be impossible. If your soldiers are at the temple as you say, they will be dug in tight, desperately awaiting reinforcement.” Beck dropped his head.

  “Enough of this talk!” Kefta exclaimed, pulling Beck even faster. “We have to get to the ship, now!”

  “And hope to High Arkai Aruna it’s not burning,” Domadred added. “Let’s go.”

  As the rest of the small group made their way down the makeshift alley, Aleksi knelt and picked up Beck’s battered breastplate. He ran his hand over the unnaturally massive dent on its center curve. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Nara had turned around and was looking at him keenly.

  Aleksi then set the breastplate down on the bloody flagstones and took his position at the rear of the group.

  CHAPTER X

  Scanning the empty alley of stalls before them, Nara slowly led the group down a makeshift lane. Lining both sides of the trail were tents and marquees of all shapes and sizes. The interlocking maze of paths weaved through the massive square with seemingly little rhyme or reason. Aleksi noticed that the tents’ vivid awnings of blue, gold, purple, and green stood in stark contrast to the splattered crimson from Adhira’s citizens.

  Behind them Aleksi could hear the steady cries of carnage as the foreign soldiers ransacked the city. Looking back, he saw that several of the tall buildings of Guardians’ Plaza were burning. The vivid imagery combined with the sounds of battle were deeply unsettling. Drawing his eyes away from the flames, Aleksi saw debris of the mob’s panicked retreat strewn about his boots. Even worse, every few meters or so, the youth came across a fallen body lying among the refuse. It seemed that the majority of the fleeing citizens either exited the main gate to the harbor or were routed east around Mindra’s Temple through the central boulevard that led through the heart of the city. This left the western edges of the square relatively barren and disconcertingly quiet.

  “Horrible,” Brayden said, eyeing a corpse ahead of them. “I can’t believe . . .”

  His words trailed off as the group approached the broken body of a teenage girl sprawled out next to a pile of trash. She was facedown and her hair was splayed out unnaturally. The girl’s dress was torn and a thick pool of dark blood had congealed around her head. As the group passed, Brayden looked closer and saw that the back of her skull had been gashed open by the slash of a sword.

  “Who could do this? What kind of man could kill a . . .” But Brayden couldn’t say any more. His words were choked back and his eyes welled with tears.

  “Oh, my son,” Domadred said consolingly. Although the captain was still supporting Beck’s weight, he reached out and pulled Brayden close to his chest. “These are not men any longer. They have fallen to darkness, and the Guardians will treat them as such.”

  “Then where are the Guardians?” Brayden looked up at the towering, luminescent statue of High Arkai Mindra in front of them. Its great shimmering wings were spread wide, casting flowing shadows of light around them.

  “Mindra works in mysterious ways,” Beck answered. “But protect the people he shall. Just hold hope in your heart, for his grace will save this city and vindicate the fallen—this I swear to you.”

  Brayden nodded solemnly and looked back at the girl’s lifeless body lying behind them.

  As the group moved westward through the square, they came closer to the gigantic statue of Mindra. Looming above them, its incandescent surface shimmered in the light of the Zenith. Rounding another corner, they came to a path that led to a break in the tents near the foot of the statue. Although it was still some ways off in the distance, they could hear the sounds of men fighting and yelling in the small clearing near the statue
’s base.

  “We should go around.” Domadred started to walk Beck down an alley away from the commotion.

  “No,” Beck said firmly, planting his feet. “There is no way to know that there won’t be more down that way, too.”

  “And no way to know how many are out there in the open. We must stay out of sight, go around and stick to the tented alleys.”

  “We go straight and cut them down,” Beck growled. “The less of this filth on my streets, the better.”

  “Beck, I applaud your determination, I truly do. But you are in no condition to argue, let alone fight. If you had your feet under yourself and a blade in your hand, things would be different. Sweet Akasha, if that were so, we could even storm Asura’s great citadel in the North. But I’m sorry, old friend, with you wounded we are vulnerable and it’s just too dangerous. We must go around.”

  Suddenly, the sharp crack of a whip echoed through the square. It was soon followed by the throaty shriek of a man. Nara’s eyes shot wide and he sprinted across the paving stones toward the great statue of Mindra.

  “Damn the darkness! What is he doing?” Domadred exclaimed, watching Nara dash down the tent-lined path. Close behind him, Aleksi flew past the group, running after Nara. “What? Not you, too?”

  “Meet us at the base of the statue,” Aleksi shouted over his shoulder. “Please, just trust me!”

  As Aleksi tried to catch Nara, he saw the Lionman slide his gauntlets over the flesh of his arms and chest. The motion visibly tore at his skin, reopening old scars. Nara then reached back to a pouch on his large belt and plunged both his hands inside. Picking up speed, Nara pulled his hands free and slid his fingers along his arms and chest, coating the freshly opened wounds with a thick yellow paint. Smearing the remainder of the paint on his face, Nara surged forward and let out a horrifying roar.

  Nara’s heavy legs pounded the flagstones and he tore into the clearing around the statue with the force of an unshackled bull. He slammed into the first Pa’laer soldier before the man could even look over. One tremendous punch of Nara’s gauntleted fist shattered the left side of the man’s head. The blow sent the warrior rolling across the paving stones, leaving a bloody streak in his wake. Nara was on top of the next soldier almost instantly. The Lionman picked him up with both arms and hurled the man into a nearby tent, where he landed with a loud crash of timber and torn canvas.

 

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