Ryan rolled his eyes. “Did you remember?” he whispered to Kevin.
Kevin shook his head. “No. You?”
Ryan grinned. “No.” He chuckled quietly. “We’ll have to rummage through our packs during the next walk.”
Kevin looked relieved. “Good idea.”
The Sun seemed to be beating down hotter here than he remembered at home. He pulled a rag out and wiped his forehead.
It was going to be a long ride.
* * *
Armand was speaking to Gregory quietly. It was near sunset, but the clouds had yet to begin their golden dance of color.
“I don’t think so, Armand,” Gregory said, a little louder.
Armand continued, quietly pushing Gregory with his voice.
“All right, then!” Gregory snapped. “I guess we’ve made good time so far. We’ll stop.” He sighed. “Gods know I could use a hot meal.”
Armand straightened in his saddle, and reined in. He slipped off his horse and waited for Ryan to ride up next to him.
“Feed and water the horses, Ryan, and then get ready for practice.” The steely glint in his eye was matched in Ryan’s. As he turned away, he added, over his shoulder, “Wear your helm this time.”
Kevin breathed in deeply as Armand scouted around for brush to burn for a fire. “I can’t believe it! We’ve been riding for, what, ten hours? And he wants to spar with you?”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “Wants to beat me up is more like it.” He smiled grimly. “But I don’t have to take it any more. I’m going to beat him tonight.” He narrowed his eyes as he watched Armand stride around the field.
Climbers
Sir Gregory refused to watch the training match between Ryan and Sir Armand; he picked up a small travel pot and started to cook some stew.
Armand smiled cockily as he strapped on his shield. “This is the way to release some of that tension, isn’t it, boy?” He laughed. “A good fight—I mean, practice bout—helps me to loosen up those tight muscles from a day in the saddle.” He turned to Kevin. “You’re going to be the referee. We’re going to best of five touches this time.” He put his helmet on, and Ryan did the same.
Kevin winced, but nodded at Armand.
Armand Ryan saluted, and fell into position.
The first thing that Ryan had learned from fighting with more than one person was that he had to attack first, and attack fast. He did so now, and allowed himself a small smile at the look of surprise on Armand’s face as he hailed blow after blow at the knight.
Armand was able to block the blows, though. Several of his parries were followed by counterattacks that were at full speed.
Ryan’s small smile disappeared as he realized that Armand had been holding back the whole time that they had known each other. Armand was fast. Suddenly, Ryan was on the defensive. He let go of all restraint and moved as fast as he could, blocking with his shield, with his sword, stepping out of the way—whatever he could do, he did.
Ryan realized that he was tense, his jaw was clenched, his teeth bared. He forced himself to relax, and redoubled his efforts to be faster, to hit harder. Before he knew what had happened, he had struck Armand on the temple, hard.
Armand staggered to the side. Ryan stopped attacking, a look of concern on his face as he came to Armand’s side.
“Point, Ryan,” Kevin said, quietly.
“I’m fine,” Armand said, and roughly pushed Ryan away. “I barely felt your little ‘love tap’, boy.” He straightened, saluted, and fell into a slightly unsteady en guard position. “Now get back and fight, squire. And do try not to fight like the little girl that you are.”
Ryan frowned unhappily. Why does he hate me so much? He saluted, and fell into position.
And was immediately defending from blow after blow as Armand went after him. He stepped back, and stepped back again. Armand sneered at him and stepped back, stopping his attacks.
“What is it, Ryan, too tired to return my attacks, now?” He laughed.
A surge of anger flashed through Ryan, and he stepped forward to attack. Armand seemed to simply brush aside his practice sword, and struck Ryan’s chest with such force that it knocked the wind out of him. He fell to the ground, gasping, and Kevin rushed to his side.
“Well, squire?” Armand asked Kevin coldly.
“Are you ok?” Kevin whispered to Ryan.
Ryan nodded, breath finally entering his lungs.
“Squire?” Armand demanded.
“Point, Crown Knight Armand,” Kevin said, bitterly, as he stood up and backed away. Ryan dragged himself to his feet slowly, stalling for time.
The knight and squire saluted, and they both attacked.
Their wooden swords whipping through the air too fast to see, they continued to probe each other’s defenses. Armand’s shield still did not cover his lower legs, and Ryan began to attack higher up, trying to draw Armand’s shield even further away from his ankles.
It worked. He made his move, swinging his sword up and over Armand’s head and bringing it across Armand’s exposed left ankle. Armand’s mouth formed a little ‘O’ as his feet flew out from under him. Ryan thrust his sword’s tip into Armand’s chest to score a point. Not as hard as Armand had hit him, but certainly not gently.
“Point, Ryan,” Kevin said. He was grinning, and nodded to Ryan as he saluted and fell back into en Guard.
Armand growled as he got to his feet. He made the motions of a salute, but fell into en guard very quickly and attacked immediately. Ryan was thrown off guard by Armand’s hasty attack, and Armand scored an easy point by thrusting his sword into Ryan’s shoulder.
“Point, Crown Knight Armand.” Kevin sounded angry, and Ryan shook his head.
Just score the match, Kevin. Ryan thought. All you’re doing with your anger is making Armand angrier. He looked into Armand’s narrowed eyes, and thought, and more deadly.
“Match point,” Kevin said, needlessly. They all knew the score. Gregory looked up from his cooking, though, when Kevin spoke.
They both saluted, mechanically, before assuming en guard. Again Armand attacked with speed and strength Ryan had never seen before. The wooden blades blurred around the two warriors, bouncing off of each other.
His legs are covered, this time. He learned that one quickly. Ryan thought. Well, he is supposed to be a good warrior.
Ryan tried a shield push, but Armand simply met it with his own shield. Armand sneered again. Ryan realized his jaw was locked tight, and his shoulders were too tense. He tried to relax, but before he could get his muscles loose and his mind back into the battle, his helmet rang like a bell, and he was looking at the sky.
Armand had won, despite all the practice with two opponents, despite every best effort on his part, despite moving faster than he had moved in his life—Armand had won.
Kevin’s face appeared above him, full of concern.
“Ugh, can you stop spinning, Kevin?” He asked, weakly.
* * *
The rest of the trip passed without incident. As the Sun dawned on the third full day of traveling, they found themselves riding in the northern part of the shadow of the mountain.
“Umbra,” Gregory whispered.
Armand snorted. “What’d you say, Gregory?”
“Umbra—it’s just part of the old legend. ‘Umbra’ means shadow, in the language the legend was written in. Only scholars can read it, now, and even most of them struggle.”
“So how do you know it?”
“My father was one of the scholars who translated the original text, when we found it two decades ago.” He smiled. “It wasn’t very helpful. Father thought that the text spoke of the same weapons that we now chase:
“In summer’s heat
The rain will fall
The swords will lie
In mountain’s shadow tall.
Many will ride
Few will see
The swords do lie
In mountain’s shadow tall.
Armies
will try
One man succeed
Swordsmen will cry
In mountain’s shadow tall.
The deathbringers—
The Gods’ true sons—
The swords will name
In the mountain’s shadow tall.
Gregory smiled. “A bit of doggerel, but father did say that translating poetry was difficult.
“And it didn’t really say much, although he thought that there might be more to it than was found.” He gestured up to the shadowed mountain, and then to the golden sunlit field a short distance away. “Regardless, we are ‘in mountain’s shadow tall’ right now. The original word for ‘shadow’ was ‘umbra,’ and that’s why I was thinking about it.”
Ryan shuddered, looking up at the mountain. “Hey,” he said, pointing, “What’s that?”
There was a small group of men, perhaps four or five, climbing the side of the mountain. They were too far away to tell if they were friend or foe.
Gregory hushed them with a gesture. He nudged his horse sideways and led them slowly toward the men who were above them. Since the strangers were on foot, and Gregory and the others were mounted, they closed the distance rapidly. It became clear by midmorning that there were five strangers, and all were wearing Triol colors. Gregory doubled their speed in an effort to catch them.
The Triols finally heard the kingdom soldiers and turned around to do battle.
Armand snorted. “Four of us against five of them, Gregory. Maybe I should hang back to make it a fair fight.”
Gregory shook his head. “I’d rather it not be a fair fight. Besides, how do we know they didn’t send their best and brightest, just like we did?”
Ryan frowned. Surely, that’s what they did, isn’t it? he thought. Suddenly, he was not so confident. Apparently, Armand wasn’t either, for his expression had become much more serious.
They rode closer to the Triols. They were all big men, and well armed. One of them, probably the leader, carried two swords and no shield. He stepped forward and addressed the knights and their squires with a terrible accent.
“Why here are you?” he demanded.
“To stop you from searching for the swords of legend,” Gregory said. “And to take them for ourselves, if we can find them.”
“Ha … ha!” The man snorted between slow laughter. “Two Swords thinks you are … very funny! Ha … Ha!”
Kevin leaned over. “Doesn’t seem too bright, eh?” Ryan snickered. Armand snapped his head around to glare at him, and he schooled his expression.
“You puny kingdom soldiers search?” Two Swords nudged one of the other Triols, and they all broke into slow laughter
“They must be young giants,” Gregory muttered to Armand, just loud enough for the squires to hear. “It takes them a few hundred years to speed up—but that doesn’t mean they’re stupid, don’t underestimate them!”
“Crush you, we will, have no doubt.” The Triol leader yelled, ripped his tunic off, exposing a perfect physique. Muscles larger than Ryan’s thigh rippled across the large man’s abdomen as he drew both of his swords. The four kingdom warriors drew their swords as one.
The Triols were ponderous, but very strong. Two Swords brought his swords down, wickedly fast, in a one-two arc towards Armand, who caught both blows on his shield, but he was knocked off of his horse by the power of the double blow. Both swords dug more than an inch into the iron shield, and stuck. With a twitch of his shoulders, the small giant pulled his sword free, nearly ripping Armand’s arm off in the process.
Two Swords squinted down at Armand, grinning. He was moving his swords rhythmically back and forth, preparing for another attack, when a sword point blossomed from beneath his rib cage. A moment later, Two Swords seemed to realize that Gregory had sheathed a sword in his body, and he twisted sideways as he howled in pain.
Gregory managed to pull his sword free, but Armand sank his sword into the giant’s flesh, and the giant turned back to face him.
Armand tried to hang on to his hilt, but it was ripped out of his grasp as the giant’s motion threw him to the side. Two Swords yelled in frustration as he tried to find one of the knights. Finally, he saw Gregory, and threw one of his blades at Gregory, then pulled Armand’s sword out of his chest.
“Hah! This … little pig sticker, my second blade now will be.” He turned towards Armand, the hole in his chest foaming as he exhaled. He swayed a little. “Poetic justice, you with your own sword I will kill.” He lumbered towards Armand, who was now weaponless.
Meanwhile, Gregory had ducked the sword, but was occupied with the other three giants. They were shorter than Two Swords, but still quite strong. They were slower, too, so Gregory was scampering like a rabbit, avoiding them, letting them swing their blades at him and miss.
He was waiting for Armand’s help, Ryan suddenly understood. Divide and conquer. He turned back to Armand, who was crawling backwards on the ground, attempting to avoid Two Swords’ continuous advance.
“C’mon.” He nudged Kevin, and they ran towards Two Swords. They both attacked at once, Kevin from the left, Ryan from the right, swinging at the giant’s bare neck. They cut deeply, and Two Swords lumbered to a stop, blood streaming down his shoulders, chest, and back.
“What this is?” He yelled, turning around…but the two squires moved with him, staying behind him. Blood spattered on the ground. “How come little bees sting Two Swords?” He kept turning, but they stayed behind him for a second longer. “Where did little bees go?”
Ryan gestured at the giant’s feet. Kevin nodded, and went in, trying to hamstring Two Swords. He got the right leg just as Ryan sank his sword into the giant’s kidney.
Two Swords howled again, but kicked out at Kevin’s head, connecting with his hurt foot. He howled again with the doubled pain in his leg as Kevin went flying. Kevin’s unconscious body landed nearly ten feet away as the small giant fell to one knee.
Ryan finished him off, slicing through the sinews of Two Sword’s neck. A veritable fountain of blood washed over the road. The flow of blood pulsed with the Triol’s heart for another moment before he fell over sideways, narrowly missing Armand.
Armand jumped to his feet and turned his icy gaze on Ryan for a moment before grabbing his sword and rushing to Gregory’s aid. Ryan ran over to check on Kevin.
“Kevin, are you ok?” He grabbed Kevin’s shoulder and shook, hard. Kevin groaned and opened his eyes, wincing at the light.
“What happened? Did I get drunk? I’ve got the worst headache…” He groaned again and tried to roll over. “Just let me go back to sleep, Ryan.”
Ryan shook him more. “No! I need your help! Gregory needs your help!” Kevin struggled up to a sitting position, holding his head. He saw the pitched battle and tried to get up, but fell over.
“You’d better go over and help without me," he said to Ryan. “I’ll come as soon as I can stand up.” He turned to the side and threw up. There wasn’t much in his stomach, so he retched for a while before he turned back to sitting. “Go!”
Ryan turned and ran. The two knights had disposed of one of the other giants, but the remaining two had become angered and seemed to be moving a bit faster than before.
Gregory saw him running up and gestured at the giant in front of him.
Actually, Ryan thought, he’s gesturing to the ground behind the giant. He nodded to Gregory, and threw himself onto his hands and knees behind the Triol soldier. Gregory pushed his attacks, the Triol backed up, tripped over Ryan, and Gregory thrust his sword through the man’s eye before he could recover.
Gregory grabbed Ryan’s hand pulled him up. They turned to the last Triol, but just as they ran up to him, Armand neatly separated the giant’s head from his shoulders.
As they were cleaning their swords, Kevin came teetering up. He could barely walk.
“Come here, Kevin,” Gregory demanded. He stared at Kevin’s eyes. “Ryan, come here and look at Kevin.” He gestured at Kevin’s face. Ryan looked at him. So
mething was wrong.
“Something’s odd, but I don’t know what it is," he said, turning to Gregory.
“Look closely at his eyes. One of his pupils is larger than the other.” He shook his head. “He took a pretty bad blow to his head, didn’t he?”
Ryan nodded.
“His head is bruised on the inside.” He grabbed Kevin’s shoulder, squeezing it. “He’ll be ok, but we can’t let him sleep. He might not—”
“Are you done with my squire, Gregory?” Armand interjected. “He needs to be disciplined.”
Ryan turned towards Armand, mouth open, clearly shocked. “Disciplined, Sir knight?” He asked.
“Yes, disciplined!” Armand yelled at him. “You sat there and watched us fight! You could have been helping from the start, but you stood there, mouths open like goldfish! No mercy!” He shrieked.
“I saved your life,” Ryan said, quietly—but with strength.
“It wouldn’t have needed saving, had you done what you should have, you…” he seemed to find the word he was looking for “ungrateful wretch!” His eyes were wide with anger. “I take you out of the back woods of the kingdom, I make you a squire to a knight of the crown, and you challenge me?” He pulled off a gauntlet and threw it at Ryan’s feet. “If you want to play, let’s do it, boy. I can end my nightmare! Right now!”
“Armand.” Gregory’s steady voice seemed to turn off anger in Ryan’s mind. It must have had a similar effect on Armand, whose expression turned neutral as he turned to his superior officer.
“Yes, Commander?” Armand’s voice, while even, was dripping with ice.
“Pick up your glove," he said, in that same calm tone. “We’re all on the same side here.”
Armand bent and picked up the glove.
“What about this … squire?” He asked Gregory.
Gregory sighed deeply. “He saved your life, Armand. Don’t punish him.” He turned to Ryan. “Armand is right, though. You could have come to our aid sooner. Perhaps Kevin wouldn’t have been injured.”
Armand nodded, mollified a bit by Gregory’s support.
Legend of the Swords: War Page 17
