Alaric Swifthand

by Steve Lazarowitz

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  Chapter Thirty-two

  The next minutes were the longest of my life. I could feel the needle scratch across my eyeball. I could feel it push through the skin below my eye. She worked quickly, but it seemed to take forever, until I thought I would die from the pain. Of course, that release was denied me too.

  It was altogether too long before both my eyes had been worked on. I could almost feel the powder wearing off. I tried to move and managed to wriggle my finger a bit. Perhaps in a few minutes, I would have more control over my body. What I would be able to do, blind and naked as I was, I couldn’t imagine.

  The surgeon had finished with my eyes and moved on to the rest of me. I felt various parts of my body being prodded and occasionally burned. I had no idea what was being done, but again, the pain was excruciating. I tried to fall away from consciousness, but could not. I had given up all hope, when I heard a voice I had despaired of ever hearing again.

  “Fear not, my friend. The others are on the way to save you,” the Sword of Truth’s words rang clearly in my head. It was a shame they were already too late.

  The sounds of footsteps reached me. Eregor cursed and moved away from the table. The surgeon stopped what she was doing as well.

  I heard the door burst open.

  “You are about to make a grave mistake.” The voice belonged to Tindal. I’d never thought I’d be so happy to hear his voice.

  “On the contrary, the mistake is yours,” Eregor’s voice no longer sounded benevolent.

  “Alaric! Call me!”

  I struggled into a sitting position, though I was still sluggish from the orange powder. Fortunately, my vocal cords had started functioning again.

  “Sword of Truth,” I yelled. And though I was blind, I somehow sensed it coming.

  I reached out my hand and the weapon flew into it. I can’t imagine how I must have looked, sitting there naked, eyes sewn shut, holding a magical sword. Then, not for the first time, the Sword of Truth saved me. I could see the room in my thoughts.

  Somehow the blade was placing images into my mind. The perspective was a little off, since I was seeing things from the sword’s point of view, but it was close enough for me to act.

  Several skeletons had rushed into the room and the battle was joined. Then I heard Drake curse. “Hell’s hounds! Eregor’s gone! He must be wearing the boots!”

  The sounds of battle filled my ears, but something else demanded my attention. Eregor moved silently toward the exit, completely unseen. He was going to get away. Except for the fact the Sword of Truth could see him, and was somehow able to share that knowledge with me.

  “Out of my way!”

  I ran through the battle, occasionally parrying a stray blade. Fortunately, the skeletons weren’t the most skillful warriors. I reached the door at the same time as the necromancer. He was still unaware I could see him. He paused to let me through first. He must have thought I was trying to flee.

  I whirled and thrust my sword straight through his stomach. He had just enough time to look stunned before he twisted away and slid off my blade to the ground. Almost at once the fighting stopped. The skeletons fell where they stood. The surgeon, who was a more powerful creation, was not dispelled by the passing of her master.

  Drake looked at me, then at the necromancer laying at my feet.

  “That was incredible,” he said. “How did you manage it?”

  I shrugged. “The same way I manage everything. Luck and guts.”

  Tindal smiled and walked closer to me. “How is it you can see?” Even as he spoke the vision faded.

  “Sorry,” said the sword. “I don’t have the energy to keep that up for long.”

  “I can’t,” I replied. “I guess the gods really do favor me. Now where the hell is Aynslae?” If nothing else, she owed me an explanation. To my surprise, it was Tindal who stepped forward to defend her.

  “Now wait a second, Alaric. Aynslae was going to hit one of them with a rock, when something took control of her mind. She had no choice. After you were knocked out, reinforcements showed up and the tide of the battle turned. We were placed in a room past the flame corridor and you were taken elsewhere, though I don’t know why.”

  “And how did you get out of the corridor?”

  “Aynslae freed us. When she heard your voice, she braved the corridor and ran through the fire.”

  “And she survived?”

  Aynslae’s voice spoke next. “Yes, I did. When I was young, my parents placed a spell on me to protect me. I am immune to fire. Once I escaped, I found a switch on the wall. When I pulled it, the flames died.”

  “She saved your life,” said Tindal.

  I wrestled with the story as best I could. Finally I turned in the direction of where the surgeon had been the last time I saw her.

  “Get these damn stitches out of my eyes or I’ll do the same thing to you that I did to your master.”

  “And if I do?”

  “Then you go free. But if you try anything…” I didn’t need to point out we were now more powerful than she.

  I didn’t want to trust her, but had no choice. I could sense the others were uncomfortable too, but if I were ever to regain my sight, my eyes would have to be able to open.

  The removal of the stitches was even more painful than the insertion. I must have passed out during the procedure, for I woke up many hours later in pain. I couldn’t feel my eyes at all, and I certainly couldn’t see anything.

  “Is it done?”

  “It is,” said Tindal.

  “Then if you would, I would like a word alone with Aynslae.”

  I could sense his reluctance, but he didn’t answer. It was Drake’s voice that did. “Okay, let’s go. Everyone out. We’ll be just outside if you need us.”

  I nodded and waited until I heard the sound of the door close. Then she spoke. “I’m sorry, Alaric.”

  “No, you’re not. You weren’t even sorry when you killed the High Elder.”

  There was a moment of profound silence. I suppose she was wondering if she should admit it before she tried to kill me. I could still sense the Sword of Truth nearby.

  I suppose curiosity finally got the better of her.

  “How did you know?”

  “I suspected you were able to use magic, as soon as I realized you knew the old speech. Since I had heard Tindal and Graham moving in the darkness in the High Elder’s hut, I knew neither of them could have reached the High Elder without my knowledge. That left a third party and you were just outside. That was where you were when you cast the darkness spell, I gather.”

  “That’s quite a bit of guesswork, based only on my ability to read magic. What makes you so sure now?”

  “The flame. The way you were screaming when I found you. If you were immune to fire, you wouldn’t have been as scared as you pretended to be. You were waiting for us. You knew we’d be there.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “You were waiting for me. Tell me, did Alicia give you the dagger herself? Did she hire you? Are you of her brotherhood?”

  Aynslae laughed softly. “Actually, meeting her was just a stroke of luck. If it weren’t for her, I might have never found out what had befallen my lover. You see, I was betrothed to Prince Dendrac. Then, a young upstart named Alaric Swifthand murdered him in cold blood. I vowed revenge.

  “I paid a good amount of money to a number of fine seers before I finally located you. I made sure to place myself where you would find and rescue me. I needed to win your trust, so I could more easily arrange your demise. I wanted to not just see you perish, but to watch you suffer. I think it’s only appropriate you spend your last moments blind and bleeding.”

  “Is that right? Well, I think it’s only appropriate you pay for what you’ve done. I’m sure the giants would be very interested in hearing your side of the story.”

  “No, Alaric. You killed the High Elder or so everyone will believe, once I kill you and report your confe
ssion to Drake. These giants are all so noble and honest. You know they’ll believe me.”

  “On the other hand,” I replied, “if I kill you, then they’ll take my word for what happened. It works both ways.”

  She snickered and approached. I sat up and slid from the table. Fortunately my legs were able to support my weight. I almost stumbled over the Sword of Truth, which was leaning against the side of the table. I picked it up and heard her pause. I had hoped my weapon had enough energy left to show me what was going on, but apparently it didn’t.

  “Good-bye, Alaric. When you get to hell, be sure to tell Dendrac I have avenged his death.”

  I backed away slowly. She continued to close the distance between us. Then I felt the edge of a shelf press against the small of my back. There was nowhere left to retreat.

  I felt behind me, searching for something, anything to help me. Just before she reached me, my hand closed around a familiar object. I flung it at her. At that moment, the room appeared in my mind and I saw I had guessed right. Aynslae ducked, but as the box passed over her, some of the orange powder settled on her head and face. I hoped it would be enough.

  “Stop.”

  She took another step forward, and came to a halt. I could see the confusion in her eyes before she lost the ability to control even that. “I’m going to call the others in and you’re going to tell them the truth. Nod if you understand me.”

  She nodded.

  “Good. You know, you and Dendrac deserved each other.” My vision chose that moment to fade, but it didn’t matter.

  “Open the door and invite them in.”

  I heard the appropriate sounds. A few moments later, when the rustling stopped, I spoke. “Aynslae has something she wants to tell you all, don’t you, my dear?”

  “I killed the High Elder.”

  “What?” asked Tindal.

  Drake interrupted him. “The High Elder is dead?”

  “I’m afraid so,” I said. “Aynslae stabbed him and tried to frame me.”

  “Why?” asked Tindal.

  “I killed her lover. She wanted revenge. Drake, when we found you, we were fleeing Rikkordia.”

  “Aynslae, is this true?” asked Drake.

  “Yes.”

  “You realize once we return to Rikkordia, your life is forfeit?”

  “Yes.”

  I could hear the giants crying. For a long time, it was the only sound. Finally, Drake spoke again. “We owe a great debt to you, Alaric. A debt we can never hope to repay.”

  “Bring Aynslae to justice. That will be payment enough.”

  “You can count on that, if we can find our way out of here.”

  “I know the way,” said the Sword of Truth.

  “I can guide you,” I said.

  “Blind as you are? I don’t see how.”

  I spoke with more levity than I felt. “You didn’t think losing my sight would keep me down, did you?”

  It was Aynslae who answered. Apparently the orange powder had already worn off enough to allow her to speak.

  “Perhaps your injuries have affected your mind. You may have beaten me, but you will never see again. You will live the rest of your miserable life shrouded in darkness. When you realize the sun that warms you, can no longer brighten your world, you will wish you were dead a thousand times over. Each morning when you awaken and hear the birds you can no longer see, you will think of me and cry. That is the nature of my vengeance.”

  I could feel them all looking at me, waiting for me to respond. I dropped my head, but found myself unable to cry. On at least that one point, Aynslae was wrong. Whatever the undead surgeon had done to me left me incapable of shedding a single tear to mourn the loss of my vision.

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  Chapter Thirty-three

  The march back to Gigantia was strained. Aynslae, who had been bound by the giants, glared at me incessantly or so I was told. Blind as I was, I had to take Tindal’s word for it. Fortunately, the restraints made it impossible for her to use her magic.

  Oddly enough, I found myself thinking fairly often of the undead surgeon who had so skillfully stolen my sight. In spite of what she was, and what she had done to me, I found her invading my most intimate dreams. In the beginning I fought the fantasies, but eventually grew to accept them. At least I no longer thought about Aynslae in that way.

  The Sword of Truth was happy to be on my hip again and the Shield of Reckoning on my back. Once again, their banter filled my mind. I found myself paying more attention to them than I used to, as if their voices in my head reassured me I was not alone in the darkness.

  Tindal seemed quite a bit different on the return trip. He spoke more softly, yet with greater confidence, or at least, it seemed that way to me. He displayed nothing but genuine affection for me and we spent many long hours talking.

  The giants were most impressed with my performance, for all the good it did me. Even Leif began to warm to me. Drake remained respectful and friendly and Kharrah and I grew somewhat closer. She seemed to sense when I was down and always somehow managed to be by my side when I felt I had nothing left to live for. When I stumbled, she was usually close enough to catch me.

  In spite of my handicap, I began to feel secure again. I had survived another adventure. It was even possible my eyesight would eventually improve. I was on my way to see Graham. After all I’d been through, I had still pulled off a victory. Once stories of my exploits started making the rounds, I’d be a legend.

  My optimism was short-lived. To this day, I don’t like to talk about my affliction, because even after all these years, the memory of those early days is painful to recall. In the beginning, I stubbornly refused help, though it was offered frequently. I grew somewhat bitter and despondent on the trip back, which took three times longer than it should have. I simply couldn’t move that fast, even though I had cut a stout branch to use as a walking stick.

  Here the Sword of Truth helped me, by speaking a steady stream of directions into my mind, but that didn’t ease my soul. In a way, Aynslae really had won. The last words she had spoken to me continued to echo in my mind. The only thing that prevented me from losing hope completely was that I would soon be reunited with Graham and my return would certainly prove him innocent of any connection to the murder of the High Elder. I held onto that fact as if it had the power to restore my vision.

  Seeing Graham again became the only thing that mattered to me. I set that as my goal. It was what drove me forward day after day, when so much of me wanted to give up.

  I tried to picture how he might react to the sight of me, scarred as I was. He wouldn’t judge me … not Graham. Somehow the gentle giant always knew what to say to make me feel better. It was he who had broken the news to me about Theona and Jeren. Without his calm reassurance, I would have taken that news much harder. I thought a lot about Graham during the journey.

  Part of me also knew he would be hurt by my sacrifice, but that couldn’t be helped. In the end, Graham was the only friend I had left. Tindal would eventually leave me and Drake and company would move on to other things, but Graham would be there for me always. I smiled, as I often did when I thought of him. Graham, the pacifist giant.

  The third night on the road was much like the first two. Aynslae was still restrained and we had settled down to rest for the night. While the giants didn’t usually keep watch, they chose to now, possibly to make sure Aynslae didn’t find some way to slip her bonds. Of course, being blind, I was spared guard duty.

  I was woken from sleep by the sound of Drake’s voice. I didn’t know it was his at first. It sounded more like the battle cry of a deranged demon than the voice of the reasonable and honorable giant. I was on my feet instantly, sword in hand. The instinct did me little good, since I couldn’t see what was happening.

  I strained my ears, but could make out nothing over the string of curses Drake released into the cool night air. Finally, when his tirade started to fade, Tindal walked over to me.
<
br />   “She’s gone, Alaric.”

  “Aynslae?”

  “Yes, she somehow escaped and killed Leif in the process. It was his watch.”

  I released a breath. “No wonder Drake is furious.”

  I thought about the quiet giant, and wished, not for the last time, that I could cry, but Tindal wasn’t finished.

  “That’s not all, Alaric. She took the Boots of Darkening with her.”

  It was my turn to curse. “Do you know what you’re saying? There’s a woman out there, hell bent on killing me, who can move about without being detected. She might well be watching us right now.”

  “But you have the Sword of Truth.”

  “Which doesn’t mean she can’t take me out with a crossbow, or a throwing knife at a distance. Face it, Tindal. My life has never been in more jeopardy than it is at this moment.”

  “That may be, but part of me still feels you’re protected. Anyone else would have died a dozen times by now, but not you, Alaric. The gods didn’t save you from the Caverns of Longing to kill you now.”

  I hoped he was right, but kept my doubts to myself.

  For the remainder of the trip, a sullen silence fell over our previously cheerful group. Several days later, by the time we reached the outskirts of Rikkordia, I was beginning to get used to two things. I was able to move around fairly competently by tapping my stick in front of me, and I was just beginning to believe Aynslae was satisfied with her revenge on me and had no intention of hurting me further.

  Upon entering the city, we were immediately confronted by a patrol and taken to the dwelling of the new High Elder. The meeting was very formal and over very quickly. Drake told his story, beginning with his quest and ending with its failure. He did, however, clear my name, thus exonerating Graham in the process. Only when he was finished, was I allowed to speak.

  “Alaric Swifthand. You have proved your honor and your skill. You are a credit to your people. Your presence honors us. Is there anything you require?”

  “I would like to see Graham again, if that is possible.”

  “It is. He’s been incarcerated since reporting the news of your departure. I will send someone to fetch him. Is there anything else we can do for you?”