by Matt Heppe
Four capcaun crashed into the attacking knights. Their huge axes swept through great arcs, taking down three mounted knights and knocking more from the wagon’s walls. The Knights of the House fell back. Hadde reigned in Lightfoot. Drawing Hawkeye, she took aim at Akinos’s back.
Her arm trembled and she paused. She remembered his face, his healing touch, the goodness that radiated through him and the Orb of Creation. But she remembered also what Morin had told her. It didn’t matter what was in Akinos’s heart. He was the Wasting. As long as he lived, the Wasting would grow worse. As long as he lived, Morin would remain a creature of the Orb.
Hadde released her thumb and let the arrow fly. Her aim was true, but Akinos moved as she loosed it and it stuck one of his shielding varcolac. The injured berserker staggered but didn’t fall. She nocked another arrow and drew it to her ear.
Hooves thudded in the snow behind her as a horse galloped closer. She turned to see a black knight charging her, his yellow lance leveled at her. She drew and loosed her arrow in a single motion. Lightfoot screamed as the horses collided. Hadde was thrown. Her head struck the ground and stars shot across her vision.
She blinked into the cloud-filled sky. Had she blacked out? Gentle snowflakes settled on her face. Grimacing in pain, she tried to rise, but a great weight pinned her to the ground. She turned her head. Lightfoot rested on her right leg.
“Lightfoot?” Hadde said. The horse didn’t move. The broken shaft of a lance pierced her flank. Hadde gasped in pain as she slid her leg from under the horse. As she lifted her head, she spotted Astor lying on the ground nearby. His dead eyes wide open and staring, a grimace frozen on his face, her arrow in his neck.
She choked back a sob and lay atop her horse. For a time she didn’t move, caught in a deep well of grief. Lightfoot. Her constant friend. Another death. The sound of the battle drew her back. She hadn’t completed her task.
She glanced over her shoulder to where she had last seen Morin. His still form lay on the ground where she had left him, his horse standing loyally beside him. Morin was dying. She wanted to help him, to ease his suffering. She considered going to him, but the tumult of the battle dissuaded her. There was only one way to save him.
Kill Akinos.
Fighting still raged near the war-wagon, but the tide of battle had turned. Capcaun and varcolac surrounded the Knights of the House, mercilessly hewing down the beleaguered warriors.
Ignoring the pain, Hadde struggled to her feet. Her right leg burned with the effort. She glanced to the ground for Hawkeye, and found it broken at her feet. “Dromost burn you, Akinos. You take everything from me.”
A flash of blue-white light drew her gaze to Forsvar. The Godshield’s fire still burned, but something was wrong. It was Nidon who held the shield. His helm had been knocked off and his mail coif had been pulled back, exposing his bare head. Blood streamed from a cut on his scalp, but it couldn’t mask the fury in his eyes.
The champion held Forsvar, and it blazed with the same fire as when the king held it. With blow after blow, he stuck at varcolac and capcaun alike, only to have each slain opponent replaced by another.
Then she saw Boradin. Two knights supported the king. Blood covered his face and his head sagged to one side. He was the army’s only hope. Without his magic, all was lost. Not far from him, Hadde saw the crippled war-wagon. The back gate had been let down and two capcaun struggled to remove Akinos’s chair.
Here was the cause of all of her misery. Akinos’s deluded mission of saving the world was the force behind all the destruction and death surrounding her. All his good intentions meant nothing.
“Why couldn’t you listen to Morin?” she shouted, but nobody heard her over the din of the battle. Hadde limped toward the war-wagon, scanning the ground as she walked. She soon found a bow in the hands of a dead Tyskman and took it.
“This is for Belor and Melas. For Jenae, Lightfoot, and the king. This is for them and all the others, Akinos.”
She took aim and let fly. The arrow dropped short. But now she knew its range. She pulled a handful of arrows from the dead man’s quiver and struggled forward.
A wounded Rigarian limped past Hadde using his broken spear as a cane. Neither of them paid the other any attention. The capcaun had managed to lift Akinos’s litter, but were having difficulty getting through the press of varcolac surrounding them.
Hadde stuck her arrows in the ground and nocked one. She loosed it at Akinos, but it glanced off of the armor of one of the capcaun bearing him. He didn’t even notice.
“Bastard!”
The capcaun abandoned his efforts at removing the litter and lifted Akinos in his arms. Hadde loosed another arrow. The giant turned in Hadde’s direction and both Akinos and the capcaun saw her at the same moment. Too late.
The arrow flew true.
Akinos’s body jerked as the arrow pierced his chest. Hadde watched the last of the golden fire die within the Orb. The capcaun stared as Akinos’s arm slowly lowered and the Orb slipped from his grasp. It struck the wagon bed and tolled like a massive gong, the sound echoing across the battlefield.
A shudder passed through Akinos’s host, as if all the creatures of the Orb were suddenly aware of his passing. All stared in the direction of the war-wagon and their dead creator. “The archer’s offspring shall slay the sun.” Hadde mumbled the words. She could still see her arrow in his heart.
Chaos erupted. The second capcaun atop the wagon lunged into the one bearing Akinos, throwing both over the side. The capcaun dove to the floor of the wagon and came up triumphantly holding the Orb of Creation in his hand. His grin disappeared in a shower of blood as a varcolac cut off his arm with a savage blow from his halberd.
All thought of the battle disappeared as the desperate struggle for possession of the Orb began. Another capcaun grabbed the varcolac from behind and lifted him screaming from the wagon bed. Other varcolac hewed at each other with pole-axes and swords as they scrambled for the Orb.
Hadde turned from the melee and limped to Morin. Rigarians and varcolac fled past her as Akinos’s army crumbled. She ignored them. As she reached Morin, an anguished cry caused her to turn to the war-wagon. A varcolac, Orb in hand, jumped from the wagon to a horse’s back. Others rushed him, but the horse leaped forward and evaded them. Nidon and a few Knights of the House battled their way onto the wagon but were too late to stop the escape.
Hadde knelt by Morin and cradled his head in her arms. His face was black; only a shadow of silver still remained. She brushed his brow. “Morin!”
His eyes opened. Dull silver. He opened his mouth but no words escaped.
“Morin, I slew him. Why haven’t you healed? Why aren’t you human again?”
“Where?” Morin gasped. “Where is the Orb?”
Hadde searched the slope beyond Akinos’s fleeing army. The varcolac with the Orb rode hard, leaving his foot pursuers behind. The Orb had flared back to life, Forsvar’s aura no longer quenching its fire.
“A varcolac has it,” she said. “He’s escaping.” She turned back to Morin. Silver veins cut through the iron black of his skin.
“My brother? The Godshield?” His voice strengthened as the silver spread over him.
“Morin, what’s happening?”
He ignored her questions and stared up the hill at the fleeing army. “Where’s my brother? Where’s Forsvar?”
"Boradin fell in the battle. Nidon has the shield."
"Good... good."
"Good? What are you saying?"
Morin's tarnished silver face stared back at her.
“Why are you still eternal?” she asked.
He struggled to his feet. “Get my horse, Hadde, before someone steals him.”
“No! Tell me what’s happening!”
“I must leave. I must catch the varcolac before he learns to control the Orb. And before any Saladoran thinks to slay me. Go home to Landomere, Hadde,” he said over his shoulder as he fetched his horse. “Go home to your family. Yo
ur mission is accomplished. So many eternals have been massacred this day that you can be assured that the Wasting has ended. And with Akinos dead, there will be no more of them. You’ve saved us all. Go back to Landomere and live out your life.”
His skin gleamed bright silver. He was about to mount his horse when she grabbed him by his arm. “No! What about you? What about us? Why aren’t you restored?”
“I’ll never heal, Hadde. I’m an Eternal Knight. I shall be one forever.”
“But you said you’d heal once Akinos was slain.”
“I lied.” He jerked his arm free and leaped upon his horse. Any sign of weakness was gone.
She felt her throat tighten. “Why would you lie to me?”
“Because I needed you to have hope. Without hope, I was afraid you wouldn’t accomplish your mission.”
“What mission?”
“To escape Akinos’s camp and ride to my brother. To tell him to slay Akinos.”
“I would have done that anyway. Once you told me Akinos wouldn’t listen to you… after you told him that he and his eternals were the cause of the Wasting.”
He sat on his horse and looked down at her. “I couldn’t take the risk.”
“What do you mean?”
“I never told Akinos that the eternals are the cause of the Wasting.”
She stared mutely at him.
“Hadde, if I had told him, he might have done something about it. And then I never could have taken the Orb. I couldn’t take that risk. I needed my brother to slay Akinos and I needed to be here to take the Orb when Akinos fell. My only mistake wasn’t realizing Forsvar's power. I didn’t know it would fell me when its magic contacted the Orb of Creation.”
He looked back up the hill. “I’ve wasted enough time. Good-bye, Hadde. Good luck.” He turned his horse and spurred it forward.
“I thought you loved me!” she shouted at his retreating back.
The horse stopped and Morin faced her. “I did, Hadde. But now you must forget about me. I’m dead and my love died with me. It died the moment I became an Eternal Knight.”
Wheeling his horse, Morin charged up the hill in pursuit of the Orb of Creation. Without thinking, Hadde ran after him. She had only gone a few strides when her injured leg gave out and she fell to the ground.
“Dromost take you, Morin,” Hadde muttered as she stared up at his retreating back.
She struggled to her feet and took two more steps after him before stopping. Nearby a horse snorted and pawed the ground. Astor’s horse. She could take him and pursue Morin. He might be eternal, but his horse wasn’t. She was certain she could outride him. But what was the point? Morin had made his choice. He was gone.
No, she would take the horse and ride for home. She’d been gone far too long.
Epilogue
Hadde turned Astor’s horse from the path and rode into the woods. She heard Maret follow on Quickstep.
“Where are we going?” Maret asked. “Is this the way to Landomere?”
“I just want to stop a moment,” Hadde replied.
“But we haven’t been riding that long.”
Hadde halted her horse by a neat pile of stones under a young tree. She dismounted and knelt on the soft ground.
“What’s this?” Maret asked.
“It’s a cairn. It’s the resting place of my friend Belor.”
“Oh… your friend from Landomere. I… I will give you a moment.”
“Thank you,” Hadde replied as the girl withdrew. Young woman, Hadde thought. Maret was no longer the silly young maiden she had been.
Hadde lowered her head and touched one of the stones. “We did it, Belor. The Wasting has ended.”
It had ended. In this, at least, Morin hadn’t lied. Hadde saw it in the green grass and the signs of wildlife as she and Maret journeyed through Salador. Spring had arrived. A true spring full of life. Landomere would be even more alive, Hadde was certain.
The pleasant thought vanished at the memory of the dream-Belor rising from his grave. She yanked her hand back and stared at the mound, expecting the rocks to tumble aside at any moment. A nightmare of regret, Akinos had called it.
She grimaced. Couldn’t she have a moment’s peace? Would the memories of the last month never leave her?
A gentle breeze brought a honey scent to her nose. Hadde smiled in recognition. She perked up and glanced around for the source. She saw them at the head of the cairn. Tiny, luminescent white flowers growing amongst the stones. Everbloom had come to Salador.
Days later they entered the Great Forest itself. Bogs no longer broke the Spiridus Road and trees no longer wept sap from open wounds. It was as if a great weight, a shadow of despair, had been lifted from Landomere, and everyone and everything could breathe easier.
But her dark thoughts still followed her. She frowned at the memory of Morin riding off after the varcolac and the Orb of Creation. He had never glanced back. Had he forgotten her already? She sighed. Morin was eternal and she was nothing. No, not nothing. She was the dagger he had used and then discarded.
“You’re thinking of him again,” Maret said.
“No, I’m just—”
“You told me to stop you if I saw you thinking of him. And it’s easy to see when you are.”
Hadde halted Astor’s warhorse and stared at the great expanse of trees before her. Maret reined in Quickstep just ahead.
“Let him go, Hadde. Let him go, and look around you. Landomere lives again. The world lives again.” Maret smiled. She absently placed a hand on her belly. “I feel it. I feel life.”
A silverjay alighted on a tree branch and some of the weight lifted from Hadde’s shoulders. It had been years since she had seen one of the reclusive birds. Life returned. “A new beginning,” Hadde said. “Let Morin chase his Orb. I’m done with him.”
They rode farther into the forest. Hadde fiddled with her horse’s reins. Less than a day’s journey remained. “You know, Hadde,” Maret said, “I’m a little afraid. Will your people truly accept me?”
“It’s the Way of the Forest, Maret. They’ll treat you as one of their own.”
“Will I have to dress like you?”
“Only if you want to.” She smiled at the girl. “Let’s not dally, we’re almost there.”
The journey had been hard, especially on Maret. But she had borne it well and had already begun her transformation from pampered maiden to hardened traveler. She sat easily on her saddle now, and no longer complained about sleeping on the ground, curled close to Hadde for warmth. There would be trying times ahead. Life in Landomere was a world away from Saladoran court. But Maret was young, and she would adapt. And in Landomere she would not be an outcast.
Maret stopped and Hadde halted next to her. “Look,” Maret whispered. Hadde stared in the direction the girl pointed. There stood the stag Hadde had pursued ages ago. A shiver rolled down her spine.
“It’s beautiful,” Maret said. The stag stared at them and then pawed the ground. It nodded its massive rack in their direction before turning and trotting away. “No, he’s leaving.” Maret’s voice was crestfallen.
“Come on,” Hadde said as she started after the animal. This time it was no pell-mell pursuit through Landomere. The stag repeatedly stopped, looking back to check their progress.
“Where are we going, Hadde? Why are we following it?”
“You’ll see.” The stag leaped over a bush and disappeared from view. Hadde heard the tinkling of falling water. Smiling, she led Maret around the bush and into the Spiridus Glade.
A gentle breeze blew through the vibrant green forest canopy. Hundreds of leaves swirled and danced as they fell, the last of those killed by the Wasting. Most came to rest on a carpet of fern, while others floated on the pond’s surface. The waterfall splashed down the face of a hill completely shrouded by white flowers. Hadde’s heart stirred at the sight of their blooms.
“This place is…” Maret’s voice trailed off as she stared, awestruck, at the glade.
Hadde put her hand over her Spiridus Token. Dismounting, she said, “Come on, Maret, I have something to show you.”
They made their way to the hill and climbed its steep slope. Hadde couldn’t help smiling as the flowers’ scent overwhelmed her. Behind her, Maret giggled.
“I’ve never seen anything so wonderful,” Maret said as they reached the peak. Hadde nodded as she stepped toward the water-filled basin. The music of the water as it rushed from the spring made her want to sing. Slowly, she pulled the Spiridus Token over her head.
Thank you.
“What?” She turned to Maret.
“I didn’t say anything.”
Thank you.
Hadde frowned. Maret’s lips hadn’t moved. The chill Hadde had felt before spread to her arms and legs and up her neck. She followed Maret’s gaze. A whirlwind of leaves spun and danced under the arching branches of a great oak.
You brought him home. The voice echoed in Hadde’s mind. Away too long.
“Who?” Hadde asked.
“Orlos,” Maret replied, her voice distant. She held her hand to her abdomen.
Your task is done.
The world spun and Hadde nearly swooned. She clutched the Token. “That was my task? To bring Orlos home? That’s why you gave me this?”
You saved me. Thank you. Peace….
“That’s all you wanted? For me to bring him home?”
I live again. The spiridus has returned.
“But why? Why didn’t you tell me before?”
The leaves settled to the ground as the wind died. No reply came. Hadde stared at the Token in her hands—identical to the one Maret wore. Orlos’s token. If only Hadde had known her task. She could have… she could have what? If things had gone differently, Akinos might have won and the Wasting would have taken them all.
Hadde reached out and placed her Spiridus Token on the flat stone in front of her.
“Why are you doing that?” Maret asked.
“This is where I found it. And I don’t want it any more. I want to forget it.”
