The Defender of Rebel Falls: A Medieval Science Fiction Adventure (The William Whitehall Adventures Book 1)

by Christensen, Erik

  He couldn’t succumb to self-pity, he decided. If love was not to give his life purpose, he would have to decide a purpose of his own. An idea formed in his mind that he couldn’t reject, one that would lead to guilt no matter which way he decided. He reached back in his memory to locate some forgotten nugget of wisdom. What was it his father had once said? When faced with two otherwise equal options, choose the most reversible choice.

  But no matter how he looked at it, both choices might be irreversible. It came down to action or inaction. Stated in such simple terms, his choice became clear. He’d wanted to accomplish great things for as long as he could remember, to do something people would notice and applaud—yes, to be a hero. He may as well admit it. Well, here was his chance.

  He packed his bag as quietly as he could, taking only a few torches, leaving the rest for his friends in case they should need them on the way home. He grabbed a little food for the journey, and strapped his sword to his belt. He hadn’t brought his father’s shield, but he couldn’t worry about that now. He slipped past his friends and approached the tunnel entrance. It would be dark in there, but he didn’t dare light a torch yet, not until he was deep inside. He walked in as far as he could and let his eyes adjust to the darkness.

  He heard whining behind him and turned. Steve was there, staring at him and wagging his tail. The dog tilted his head as though to ask “What are you doing?”

  “No, Steve,” said William. Go back.” What he wouldn’t give to have the dog by his side…but he had no right to steal him from Rachel. “Stay, Steve. Good boy.” He walked a short distance and looked back to make sure the dog didn’t follow. The dog obeyed, but looked worried as only a dog does when a friend departs.

  He followed the corridor wall by touch until he no longer saw the starlight through the entrance, and only then did he light a torch. He moved quickly and quietly, the torchlight flickering ghostly shadows, and his footsteps echoing with a hollow sound. He shivered, his skin prickling with goosebumps. He knew now what Charlie must feel. It was eerie being alone in the dark, knowing full well he would meet somewhere in these halls an as-yet unseen enemy. He had at least an hour to go before he reached the side tunnel. He could not spend that time wearing himself out with worry. Slow, deep breaths relaxed his racing heart. He began a deliberate, steady march toward his destination.

  His dread dissipated as he concentrated on his pace. Something else replaced it, something he had experienced often while sword training, and once or twice when writing. He lost himself in the moment, his conscious mind merely along for the ride and contributing nothing, all his thoughts and actions dictated by something deeper within him. Sir Kevin had compared it to a river that didn’t care where it went, but flowed without ceasing, bypassing or overwhelming any hindrance. He was a boat on that river, carried by patient, persistent, unending currents to whatever calm sea lay in the distance. Time and distance disappeared. He knew the side tunnel was there before he saw it, the one the Elder named as the source of their problems. He turned even before the opening was exposed by the torch and continued his stride unchanged.

  He sensed something behind him. A threat, but sooner than he’d expected. He spun on his heel, sword drawn in an instant, heard the cold clang of metal on metal, and felt the impact in his wrist and forearm. Before him stood Kaleb Antony.

  “I suppose ‘so we meet again’ would be melodramatic, wouldn’t it, Whitehall?” he said. “I must say, I didn’t expect you to be so stupid as to wander off alone, but here we are.” Antony swayed back and forth, his own shorter but heavier sword in hand. He looked fit to fight, but William detected a slight limp. A quick glance confirmed his suspicion: a dark stain had spread on his thigh, betraying the spot where Rachel’s arrow had connected.

  “You followed me,” said William, keeping his gaze on Antony. “Alone, too. Why?”

  “You cost me my camp, and a good number of my people. Years of sacrifice, leaving behind comfort and wealth for the sake of a greater cause. Oh, you’re a clever one, aren’t you. Delaying like that. I underestimated how quickly the Guard would arrive, but I still lay the blame at your feet. Before I resign myself to a Spartan life again and rebuild my camp, I will indulge myself this once. I will give myself the gift of ending your life by my own hand.”

  William chuckled. “I mean so much to you that you would delay your work and follow me?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” said Antony. “Not you…those things I saw. They came from here, didn’t they? They must be important or else you wouldn’t have come back. Maybe I can use them. Tell me what they are, and I’ll go easy on you.”

  “You wouldn’t believe me,” said William, maintaining his stance.

  “Then I’ll beat it out of you after we finish what we started. A fair fight to the death, that’s what you bargained for. And before I let you die, you will tell me what this place is, and what I saw at my camp.”

  William said nothing, his mind and body still controlled by his deeper self. They locked eyes as they circled each other, but he still took in everything around him: the ground, the fallen rocks around him, every movement of Antony’s arms, head, and especially his legs—the injured one, most of all.

  There was no sun to maneuver his opponent’s eyes into. The torch was the only source of light, and William controlled it. He was glad now that he hadn’t brought a shield; the flame might prove more useful. The tunnel floor was slightly inclined; he could use that too. Seizing the initiative, he stabbed at his enemy, testing his movement. He caught Antony wincing as he stepped to the left.

  Slowly they revolved around each other, each probing for the other’s weaknesses. Antony stepped in quickly with a killing move; William turned it aside easily. He returned the attack, but Antony’s sword was fast in its defense, and threatened to counter. William backed off, satisfied Antony was not at his peak. A few more exchanges, and he might have the man tired enough to beat him. His confidence rose.

  Just as William sensed Antony’s energy was waning, the rebel launched a desperate attack, hacking and slashing with reckless speed. Sensing his chance, William countered, turning each block into an attack of its own, forcing the man to his left with each blow. After a lengthy exchange Antony yelped and dropped to one knee. William plunged in for the final stroke—Antony’s injured leg shot out and tripped him. William landed on his back, and Antony’s eyes filled with malice as he kicked William’s sword out of reach. The torch had already fallen from his hand unnoticed, its sputtering flame casting a hulking shadow of Antony on the tunnel wall.

  No one would witness his end. With luck, the dragons might find him eventually, but they would never know how he had met his fate. His mother would never know, nor Cairns, nor Jack or any of his friends. Nor Melissa…

  Antony stood over him, sword-point at William’s throat, just as he had done at the rebel camp. “You are good, Whitehall, I’ll give you that. But you aren’t devious enough to be a swordsman. You’re too honest. That’s your weakness.”

  “I won’t tell you a thing about this place,” said William, more for spite than to buy time. But he would not die having given the man any satisfaction at all.

  “No worry. I’ll wander around and take a look. If it was safe for you, it’ll be safe for me. What? Why are you laughing?”

  William hadn’t realized he was laughing, but he had to admit the humor of it. Antony would be dead within hours, and only William knew it.

  “Answer me, boy, or I’ll start cutting little pieces off your—” Antony’s words were cut short, and his rage turned to shock. He spun, then fell, landing on his back with a thud. William’s heart leapt as Charlie appeared behind him, spear in hand. The former Guard followed his blow with a butt end to the chest, pinning Antony to the floor. “He’s here,” said Charlie over his shoulder. The others arrived right behind him. Maya came in first and picked up the fallen torch and moved behind Rachel and Charlie.

  “Good thing you made so much noise,” said Rachel, her fac
e obscured by shadow. “You were easy to find once we realized you had gone.”

  “How did you know I left?” asked William, squinting to see her.

  “Steve raised the alarm,” she said. “He led us right to you.” The dog bounded into the light and licked William’s face. William wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in fur. How many lives did he owe Steve now? Three? Four?

  He felt a kick in the shoulder. “You and I are going to have words, Will,” said Jack, his hands shaking with anger. “But right now I have to find my dagger. I threw it to save your worthless skin and now I can’t find it. Did anyone see where it went?” he asked as he walked away in search of the lost blade. “Will, you’re buying me a new one if I can’t find it,” his voice said from the darkness.

  Maya kneeled beside him. “Are you injured?”

  “He will be!” said Jack from the shadows.

  “I’m fine,” said William. “You guys got here just in time—again.”

  “I’m surprised the dragons didn’t show up first with all that noise,” said Maya.

  “Dragons?” It was the first time Antony spoke since they arrived. “Did you say dragons? I knew it, but I couldn’t make myself believe it.”

  Maya swore under her breath. She looked around at the others, pleading with her eyes for someone to suggest a way to correct her blunder.

  “He has to die now,” said Rachel, urgency filling her voice. “We have no choice. If he tells anyone, who knows what the dragons will do.”

  “No, that’s not fair, Rachel! It’s my fault,” said Maya. “He shouldn’t have to pay for my mistake.”

  “At least let the dragons decide,” said Jack. “They can show mercy if they want.”

  “Relax,” said Antony, his voice coarse and gravelly. “I’m not going anywhere. You there, the one looking for your knife. Is this it?” He lifted his arm, revealing the blade sunk to the hilt in his side. “It was a good shot. Or lucky.”

  Jack slowly approached. He stooped to remove the dagger, then jerked his hand back, unsure of the etiquette of retrieving a blade from a still-breathing enemy.

  Antony coughed and wiped the blood-colored foam that formed on his lips. “You can get it when I’m dead, if you’re that delicate,” he said. “Which reminds me…you and I had a deal, Whitehall. To the death. Don’t let me linger.”

  William was not prepared for this. Killing a man in battle, one who threatened him or his friends or family, was difficult enough. Taking his life while he lies still was too horrible to contemplate, whether or not the man asked for it. “Maya, can you bandage him so…can you bandage him?”

  “Don’t be a fool, Whitehall,” said Antony. “Look where the blade is. I have minutes at most. And they won’t be easy minutes.”

  “It’s true, Will,” said Maya, who looked no happier than William felt. “The blade must be in his lung. It’s a matter of time. Not much.”

  “Let him suffer, Will,” said Jack. “Remember what his people did to you.”

  “So everyone gets a vote, do they?” asked Antony, exasperated. “What about you, big man. The quiet one. You’re the one who took me down twice. Do I spend my last minutes in agony, or can I be put out of my misery?”

  “Whatever Will says,” said Charlie.

  Antony spat blood as he cursed. “King’s knuckles, Whitehall, you’re a weakling. You play with swords, but you’re no swordsman. A man ought to have a sense of what he’s getting into before he arms himself. How about you? The one in the shadows with the bow. You were eager for me to die a moment ago. You shot me once, you can do it again.”

  “Not my job,” said Rachel.

  Antony fell quiet. “That voice,” he said. “Do I know you?”

  “Where would you know me from?” asked Rachel.

  “Move into the light,” said Antony. “Let me see you.”

  Rachel stepped forward, her face still in shadow, and pulled her bowstring.

  “Yes. That’s it, don’t hold back. You’ll be doing me a favor. Aim for the heart and get it done.”

  Rachel raised her eyes to aim. “You!” said Antony at the moment she released the arrow. The thud of the arrow striking his chest was unexpectedly loud in the emptiness of the cavern.

  William shuddered. It was done. He was alive, and his enemy dead, though not by his own hand. “Thanks, Rachel. I’m sorry I left it to you, but I couldn’t do it.”

  “That’s not a bad thing, Will,” she said. “I’ve been killing for a while now—well, animals anyway. I suppose it’s second nature to me, but maybe it shouldn’t be.”

  “What was he going to say before you…did what you did?” asked Jack.

  “How would I know?” asked Rachel. “And what are you so squeamish about? I’m the one who had to shoot him.”

  “He said ‘You’ like he knew you. And he knew your voice.”

  “He’d lost a lot of blood, Jack,” said Maya. “He was probably delirious.”

  “I suppose,” said Jack, looking unconvinced.

  “Now what?” asked William. “Do we leave him here? I’m not sure how pleased the dragons will be.”

  “We can’t drag him back to the camp,” said Jack. “We should find a side tunnel and leave him there to rot. It’s what he deserves.”

  “I don’t know about deserving it,” said William. “But it’s the practical thing to do.”

  “Wait,” said Charlie, startling everyone. “We have to search the body.”

  “No,” said Rachel.

  “Why not?” asked Jack when she said nothing else.

  “They searched him when he was caught the first time.”

  “Sure, and I bet he kept his pockets empty since then to make our lives easier,” said Jack. “Charlie’s right, we need to search him. My dad would be furious if we didn’t. Umm…who wants to go first?”

  “Fine. I will,” said Rachel. “I need my arrow anyway.”

  “Grab my dagger while you’re at it, would you?” Rachel gave him a dirty look. “Please?” he asked.

  “Big baby,” she said as she yanked the dagger out and handed it to him. She pulled her arrow out with effort and began searching the dead man’s clothes. William was impressed with her efficiency, and how little she seemed to be affected by death.

  “Nothing on him,” she said. “Just like I—”

  “Wait. What’s this?” asked William as he pulled a piece of paper from underneath Antony’s cloak. “You missed this.”

  “It’s a picture,” said Jack.

  William gave his friend a dirty look. “I can see that, Jack. I went to school too, you know.”

  “Whatever, let me look.” A woman’s face was drawn on it, the details unclear in the dim torchlight. But it looked familiar.

  “Is that a picture of Rachel?” asked William.

  “Impossible,” said Maya. “It must be a coincidence.”

  “Maybe,” said William. “But it looks a lot like her. Take a look.”

  Maya peered at the picture and frowned. “A little, I guess. It could be anyone.”

  “Anyone who looks like Rachel, you mean,” said Jack.

  “Well, yes.”

  “Look, I have no idea what this is about,” said Rachel. “And neither does anyone else. Besides, aren’t you mad at Will?”

  “Yes, I am!” said Jack, recalling his previous anger and turning to William. “You have some explaining to do, Will. Why on Esper did you run off alone?”

  The terraforming process did not include all known creatures on Earth. In fact, a concerted effort was made to exclude both insects and mammals known to be carriers of diseases that afflicted humanity since before written history. Rats were one scourge that all scientists agreed Esper could thrive without. More importantly, they barred entry to the most deadly creature known to humankind: the common mosquito.

  While enjoying a much-reduced burden of disease compared to their Earth-bound ancestors, people on Esper would not remain free of less deadly but still troublesome in
sects and animals.

  Planet of Hope: A History of Esperanza

  There was nothing William could say, and he knew it. “What exactly was your plan, anyway?” asked Jack when he ran out of things to call William. The looks on everyone else’s faces made it clear they felt the same way, although maybe not with the same intensity. Only Steve seemed not to be upset with him, but even he refused to come near William while he was being scolded.

  William threw his hands up. “I didn’t really have one, I guess. But I didn’t want to involve you guys. I didn’t think it would be fair.”

  “Will, did you honestly think we wouldn’t come looking for you?” asked Rachel. “No matter what you intended, you involved us anyway.”

  All he could do was nod. No doubt about it; he had acted stupidly.

  Jack stopped pacing and pointed his finger at William. “When I jumped into that tunnel when we were running from the bandits—rebels—whatever they are. You told me we have to act as a team. I know this isn’t the same mission, but the same rule applies. Or it should.”

  “Okay,” said William.

  “I’m serious,” said Jack. “If you don’t promise right now, I’ll never go on another trip with you anywhere.”

  “I promise.” He could barely look Jack in the eyes.

  “Good. Anyone else want a go at him? I’m done.”

  “Jack’s said everything,” said Rachel. “But I’m still curious what you figured you’d accomplish that dragons couldn’t.”

  “I didn’t know, exactly. But I couldn’t stand the idea of leaving them to die off without at least trying something. Ow…what was that?”