Alaric Swifthand

by Steve Lazarowitz

  I inched closer, raising my head slightly so I could see inside. Theona sat on the bed, head in her hands. Alicia stood before her almost facing me, a look of abject sympathy on her plump young face. “How did he take it?”

  Theona raised her head. Her voice was clearer, though slightly angry. “How do you think he took it? He was crushed. I don’t know where I found the strength to pull it off.”

  “Your love gave you the strength. That’s what love is. When you’re willing to sacrifice everything for another.” Even as she finished, Alicia shifted her gaze and saw me. At least I thought she did. “You could have gone with him.”

  Theona shook her head. “And have him hunted for the rest of his life? Do you think my father would ever give up the chase before he saw Alaric’s head on a pike? You know as well as I what kind of temper he has. I could never make anyone face that, especially Alaric.”

  She broke down then. “Oh Alicia, what am I to do without him?”

  I had heard enough. No matter the danger, I knew I would risk it all to be with her. I climbed through the window. Alicia smiled at me, but Theona was stunned. She turned on her servant and began to yell. “You knew he was there all along. Traitorous bitch! Get out!”

  Alicia, not used to that type of treatment from her mistress, turned and fled. I knew tears would follow, but I was thankful for her complicity. Theona looked at me and sighed. Neither of us spoke for some time. At last, I broke the silence.

  “I do not wish to live without you, whatever the price.”

  She did not look at me. “Nor I without you.”

  She fell silent again, wrestling with her hopes and fears. Finally, she looked up. “Tonight at midnight. Meet me at the tool shed behind Aron’s Forge. I’ll be waiting inside.”

  I kissed her hand and climbed through the window, not trusting myself to speak. How quickly I had been ready to throw it all away. Now, I had reason to live again.

  Staying out of sight until then was tricky, but I was up to the task. I had grown up on these streets and knew them intimately. The only place I knew I couldn’t go was back to my parent’s house. It was almost certainly being watched.

  The hours dragged on, until the time of our rendezvous neared. At last, unable to wait any longer, I made my way to Aron’s Forge. I had never been in back, but the tool shed was so large it was impossible to miss. Had I not known it was there, I would have thought it a guest house.

  I crossed the yard and pulled at the door. It swung outward on rusty hinges. It was dark inside. I brought my lantern forward, forcing the gloom into the corners. I entered, distracted at first by the amazing array of tools. Behind me the door closed slowly. Only then did I see Theona lying on the floor.

  I set my lamp down and approached, a seed of despair growing in my stomach. I knelt down and cradled her head on my lap. Her lifeless eyes stared back at me. The thin line of blood across her throat and the pool of it in which she lay told part of the story. To her left, on the ground was an ornate, black stiletto, stained with her blood. I picked it up and studied it, unable to recognize the markings. I was so stunned, I didn’t hear the sound of men approaching until the door creaked open. I regained my feet and turned. Standing in the doorway was Baron Kelrak. Behind him, still outside, I could make out at least two guards.

  “What have we here?” he boomed, stepping into the shed.

  I realized I still held the blade, dripping with his daughter’s blood. I thought about dropping it, but didn’t want to call attention to it either.

  I was about to experience the rage for which Baron Kelrak was so famous.

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  Chapter Three

  The Baron slowly drew his sword, a malicious smile forming on his heavy jowls. He wore a full suit of chain mail and his beard was more gray than black. If he hadn’t been wearing his hood, his hair would have been mostly black, though the gray invasion was in progress there as well. I had no doubt he’d yet to notice the body of his daughter, lying behind me in a pool of blood. And he was angry now.

  In addition to the stiletto, I still had the sword I’d taken from the two guards earlier, but as he advanced, my confidence wavered. Even if I were a match for him, the guards outside would certainly tip the scales against me. I admit I panicked. It seemed like a good time for it.

  I took a step backwards, careful not to trip over Theona’s corpse. Baron Kelrak pointed his sword at me and continued forward. To my left, against the rear wall of the shed, tools hung neatly on wooden pegs. I reached out, grabbed a long pole and held it lengthwise, thinking only to slow him.

  He stopped and looked at me, then the object in my hands. As the far end of it came into focus, I realized I was holding a halberd. The end of the weapon, in the shape of a spear, was almost in the Baron’s stomach. Then it occurred to me. I was in the shed of a blacksmith. He must have used it to store some of his surplus stock. I was surrounded by weapons. I thrust forward, but he was ready for it, and sidestepped neatly, advancing around it.

  There wasn’t enough room for me to swing it, so I released the weapon and let it fall to the ground. It was at that moment Baron Kelrak looked down. I had never before seen a face transform so swiftly. What had been a bit of exercise for a master swordsman was now a nightmare of unknown proportion. Even as I reached for my blade, I knew I wouldn’t be in time.

  The Baron, face contorted into a mask of hatred, charged me. He didn’t use his blade. If he had, I’d have certainly died then. Instead, he slammed his head into my abdomen. I had never felt such a blow. I felt my body raise off the ground and fly backward. I wasn’t certain if anything was broken, but certainly enough was bruised. I slammed into the wall behind me. Then the wall deterred me no longer.

  I managed to make it to one knee, uncertain why I was still alive. I looked into the shed through the hole I had made. Baron Kelrak was on his knees over the body of his daughter. The guards had entered, not realizing I was already outside. I forced myself to my feet and took off before they noticed I was conscious. Behind me, a scream of rage filled the night. Baron Kelrak would hunt me to the end of his days.

  I ran for a long time, until I found an alley between two shops that contained enough garbage to hide me from prying eyes. I ignored the smell, sank against the wall and considered my options.

  I had much to think about. The pain in my body was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. Theona was dead and I had no idea why. Did someone hate me enough to set me up? Probably not. More likely someone wanted her dead and I was conveniently positioned to frame. But who?

  I knew then I had two options. I could spend the rest of my life fleeing from the Baron, or I could find out who killed Theona and why. I looked down, only now realizing I still held the dagger. For now, it was my only clue, but I needed to know more. Unfortunately, I could only think of one place to find the answers.

  Within a day or so, Theona would be interred in the Kelrak mausoleum. It was amazing the kind of things you learned as a palace guard. Dangerous as it would be, I needed to be there. First, to say good-bye to Theona and second, to try to figure out who had killed her. The image of her corpse turned over in my mind. I began to cry.

  Tears flowed freely throughout the night. Often I had to bite my hand to keep from making noise. By the time the sun began its climb the next morning, I was ready to begin my life as a fugitive. I didn’t realize it at the time, but the events of the previous evening had changed me. I was harder, more reckless and certainly less sympathetic than I had been only a day earlier. I briefly considered going after the Baron myself, but that was lunacy. Even if I could beat him, which was far from a sure thing, I’d never get away with it. Anyway, he wasn’t the enemy, though he didn’t know it himself. I found myself wondering who was.

  I made my way to the small church on the far side of town. I slipped through the back door and walked downstairs. If I timed it correctly, and I was fairly certain I had, Father Delran would be holding noon services. I hoped so
for his sake.

  The door to his spartan room was unlocked. I entered as quietly as I could and went through his wardrobe. I counted them. Twelve brown cloaks. I was certain he wouldn’t miss one. I threw it over my clothes, raised the hood and made my way back to the street. This was one disguise they wouldn’t see through.

  I congratulated myself on being particularly clever. Holy men could go almost anywhere without being questioned, perhaps because so many of them had taken vows of silence. As I walked about town, I listened to the whispered conversations of the townsfolk. Many were talking about the murder. Several mentioned the service, which was to be held that night at dusk.

  I passed the day listening to gossip. Several merchants offered me food, which I accepted gladly. I’d hardly eaten in two days. I even had a few coins contributed to the cause.

  As twilight approached, I made my way to the Kelrak mansion. Perhaps entering the confines of those great walls was foolishness. I simply couldn’t allow them to put her away without saying farewell.

  There were many people milling about, not one of which spared me a second glance. I followed the crowd to the back of the house and across the gardens to the mausoleum. In the fading light, it looked almost surreal. When I realized it would be Theona’s final resting place, I had to fight back tears. I was certain of one thing. Someone would pay for what had been done to her. I hoped it wouldn’t be me.

  While most of the people crowded close to hear the priest speak, I stayed back and surveyed the crowd. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I thought I might when I found it. The eulogy was like every other I’d ever heard. It didn’t come close to capturing her spirit. Perhaps I was the only one who could have done her justice, but no one was going to ask me to speak. As the service wound down, I began to fear I would find no clue as to what had happened. Then I looked to my left and there was Alicia.

  If anyone might have an inkling as to the reason behind Theona’s murder, it was her handmaiden. She was watching the ceremony with unrepressed grief. It took me several long seconds to get her attention. When she looked at me questioningly, I lowered my hood, just enough so she could see who I was.

  For a moment, she stood there. Then she began to scream. “Help! It’s him. It’s Alaric Mason.”

  “Alicia, listen to me, I didn’t do it.”

  Perhaps she believed me, but it didn’t matter. The damage had been done. I turned and ran as fast as I could. A glance behind told me half the town, outraged at my intrusion, followed in pursuit.

  As I rounded the house, I saw the gates had been closed. In spite of the piety of my garb, it didn’t look as if I had a prayer.

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  Chapter Four

  There are certain times when life seems totally bleak and just when things can’t get any worse, they do. So it was for me. I met her, fell in love, was exiled because of it and finally had been blamed for the death of that very loved one. It was almost enough to make one believe in conspiracies. Of course, things had been bad enough before half the adult population of the city Modron, or at least what seemed like that number, raced after me with the intent to do me bodily harm. It would have been funny, had it not been so tragic.

  I turned from the gate and began to run along the west wall, thankful that even in robes, I was fast. While a handful kept up, most fell behind. I ran through the extensive gardens, wondering what to do next, when I noticed a tree I thought I could climb.

  I risked a glance behind. The pursuit had slowed. Perhaps I was difficult to spot in the failing light. I pulled myself into the lowest branches and worked my way higher as quickly as possible. Only after I was well situated did I realize I was not all that far from the wall. As I sat there, I heard several of my pursuers moving below me. Obviously, I had not been spotted. I looked again. I could make it, but my aim would have to be flawless.

  I moved quietly, making my way along a sturdy branch. The way it was laid out, I would have to stand up, literally out on a limb, and balance myself before jumping. I would have to try for the top of the narrow wall. Too far and I would clear it and probably break something. Too short and I would land before it and be discovered.

  I held my breath and straightened up, balancing precariously above those who sought me. I bent my knees and tried to judge the distance. Below, a voice called out, “There he is!”

  It was now or never. I leapt.

  Even as I sailed through the air, I knew I had misjudged. Below me, people scurried to intercept. I struck the wall hard, but managed to grab hold of the top. For a moment, I dangled, listening to my pursuers draw near. Their approach gave me strength to pull myself up, though I felt like a single giant bruise. I was certain I had done severe damage.

  I was only atop the wall for a second before dropping to the outside. I looked down the avenue, trying to get my bearings. It would be at least a few minutes before the gate was opened and I had to be gone by then. I found my feet and set off, limping down a nearby alley. I went as far as I could before fear of collapse made me stop at the next place to hide. It was a nearly empty wagon beside a shop in the market square. I half-buried myself under a pile of rotting cabbages that hadn’t sold. I was too tired to worry about the smell or even how well I’d concealed myself. No sooner did I lie down, than I fell into a fitful sleep from which I didn’t awaken for many hours.

  I awoke bruised and battered, but otherwise whole. The sun had not yet risen. I envied it. I slowly worked my way to my feet, stretching my strained muscles. Green debris fell from my body. Even if they called in hunting dogs, they’d never pick up my scent. I wondered if I’d ever get the smell out of my hair. At least nothing seemed broken. After testing my limbs to make sure they all still worked, I climbed from the wagon and turned my attention to the current dilemma.

  I knew no more today than I did yesterday. Theona was still dead, I was still wanted. I had no choice but to leave Modron. Though I might live indefinitely on these streets and avoid detection, I could have no life here. I thought again about her body lying in the shed. I took the black dagger from my belt and studied it. Someone had wanted Theona dead. Who? Why?

  Finally I made my way toward the gates, stopping only to shed the priest’s robe in favor of my well worn cloak. As I made my way through the nearly empty pre-dawn streets, I knew my destination would be Athour. The great southern city attracted me for three reasons.

  First, Theona always spoke of it with respect, bordering on longing. It was the city she most wanted to see. Also, I would be able to easily lose myself in a city of that size. Finally, Athour was probably the only city I could find without a guide. Geography had never been one of my strong points.

  The guards at the gate ignored my passage with complete indifference. The implication was clear. They would neither hinder nor help me. I was truly alone. I made my way south, keeping slightly off the road the whole time. I didn’t need to make Kelrak’s job any easier.

  I will not bore you with the details of my journey. Suffice to say, it rained frequently between the stretches of heat, and small flying insects can be the damnedest of nuisances. Only one strange event befell me during the trip.

  I was four days out of Modron and tired, but kept pushing myself to go a little further, as if by distancing myself from the city, I could somehow outrun the pain of Theona’s passing. The rain had let up, which meant I had to slog my way through ankle-deep mud for the rest of the day. At one point, I turned from the road and wandered further into the woods. At the time, I thought doing so was a rebellion of sorts against the hopelessness of my situation. Later I came to think otherwise.

  For how long I wandered I cannot say, but at some point I found myself staring at a skeleton lying face down in the center of a clearing. I was almost upon it before I noticed. I looked down at the unfortunate soul who had once breathed the very same air as I. He must have been there for some time, for even the remnants of his clothes were well on their way to dust. I was about to walk away when
the sun emerged from behind clouds. Something reflected its light. I moved closer to investigate.

  Lying beneath the hapless adventurer lay a sword of great quality. I knelt down and carefully slid it out, so as to upset the bones as little as possible. From the moment I lifted it, I knew it was magical. It was a beautifully crafted short scimitar with small symbols carved onto its gleaming curved blade. I held it outstretched and took a few practice swipes. The sword felt as if it were made for me. Though I was loathe to disturb the dead, I found and removed the scabbard, which was in fine condition in spite of the length of time it had apparently been there.

  I thought then about the events that had led me to this point. I had somehow learned to fight, lucked into the palace guard and met Theona. Our relationship was terminated rather abruptly by her untimely demise, for which I was blamed. This situation led me to flee the city and in turn, find this blade. It was almost unthinkable this chain of events could have been completely accidental. Of course, only the most egotistical man would think he was important enough to warrant such conspiracies.

  And yet, I was hard pressed to think of another cause. Perhaps the loneliness of the past days was beginning to prey upon my mind. I kept the sword and managed to find the road again. The remainder of the journey was uneventful.

  Athour was in many ways similar to Modron, but there were also differences. Modron had few tall buildings, while Athour was fraught with them, as if all the cities architects got together and decided to have a contest. I had never seen such structures before and I found them impressive.

  It wasn’t long before I noticed a small man following me through the streets. I caught a glimpse of him at least three times. Twice he ducked out of sight as soon as I turned. As a guard, I recognized the type. He was a thief. At first, I wondered what he wanted to steal, until I remembered the sword. Damned if that thing wasn’t going to be trouble.