Maiden's Saber

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by Marion Faith St. James


  “The same woods, which may hide what is left of the Druids and their minions?”

  Gareth’s hand goes to his sword hilt as Amari asked that question.

  “The same,” says Natsha. “If Mimna’s description of where the last battle was fought is true, then it is not that distant from where they fought the Druids, and Amari was taken.”

  “There is no fear there,” says Holl-tu. “For wood to produce fire and not be consumed, then it is an enchantment. It is meant to scare away much like the magic spells I create.”

  “Natsha,” asks Amari. “What would be the time lost if we went around and avoided a possible battle?”

  “Another four days will be added to our trek. All total from here to Archkeep…possibly two weeks.”

  The others have gathered around and stare at the map.

  “Let’s put this to a vote warriors.” Amari says. “Go around or through what may be the heart of the beast?”

  One by one, they all choose to strike straight through the enchanted Fire Forest.

  Truk adds; “We are five of the Kcaj. That has to account for something. True we are limited in what can be called forth with the exception of Katana. I dare to say we are stronger than any foe who would confront us—even the cursed Blood Druids.”

  “Very well my friends. We leave on the morrow before the sun comes up. We must be far and away before this village’s people rise. It will do us no good if seen, and the soldier’s dogs are set on our trail.”

  Dian says. “We will need supplies for this walk into danger.”

  Natsha disappears into one of the other rooms and comes back with a small sack of coins. “Here Dian, this will buy us what we need. There is a market not far from here at the middle of the village. You should be able to purchase hardtack, Bannock breads and dried fish. If you see dates and dried berries, buy them also. We can eat those as we travel. I believe we have enough water skins that can be filled from my well in the back.”

  Gareth winks at Natsha and adds. “We need wine as well sister.”

  “Brother,” Holl-tu says. “We must keep our wits about us.”

  Natsha comes to the big man’s defense. “Wine makes a good antiseptic if poured over a wound.”

  Holl-tu will not be fooled. “I have several powders that will do the same thing.”

  Amari joins in. “Dian, if you can find new wine, purchase at least one skin for Gareth’s expected wounds.” She knows the big man will not drink to excess when on a quest, but a taste occasionally may keep him from producing any of his bodily noises.

  “As you wish Maiden,” Dian says, and goes out into the street. Her long rust-colored dress and robe hide her body armor.

  While they wait for her return, the others get their gear together and make ready to leave the next morning.

  Dian walks through the marketplace checking the vendors and their wares as she passes. She glances over her shoulder every now and then, shifting a corner of her cloak’s hood to see. So far, no one pays her any special attention. She does notice walking back to Natsha’s home; the streets are deserted save for her. Not even stray cats wander about in the coldness.

  She returns laden with the supplies they need. Each warrior takes a portion to carry so no one person is carrying everything. When they sup on the trail…all will be brought out to prepare.

  Before the false dawn and the first cock crows the band of steadfast heroes are half a league distant.

  No one notices a lowly raven flying overhead watching the travelers below.

  Chapter 20 – The Frightening Sorcerers

  The circle of stones within the Fire Woods is empty save for one hooded figure staring into the sky—waiting. He has spent many hours here watching for someone or something.

  He thinks it far better waiting here than down below with Edalvin watching him. The Druid leader grows impatient for news of the Maiden Witch. Her sister Urel has come and gone these past weeks in search of the Maiden after meeting with Edalvin. No word has arrived from her either.

  Tarrino has sent several ravens to search the lands to find the White Witch and her warriors. One black bird brought news the Maiden and her companions have flown on giant birds from the peaks to the lands below. The Druid told Edalvin what transpired.

  “Tarrino, send for Ock of the Shadow Clan and his men. He still waits for those who have already left the cities of the Black Angels—the fool.”

  Tarrino conscripted a Shadow Clan soldier, to fetch their leader. The druid smiles; Edalvin will take Ock’s head from his shoulders for failing.

  A distant squawk of a raven can be heard approaching. Tarrino scans the skies until he sees the familiar bird winging toward him. It lands gently on his outstretched arm. After a few minutes of silent mind speaking, Tarrino’s eyes go wide. “This cannot be true.”

  The pitch-black bird can only tilt his head and repeat what it saw. Its thoughts are fragmented and vague. The tiny brain could only hold so much of what it saw.

  Tarrino mind is numb to what he has heard. Worse, he has to tell Edalvin the news—bad as it is.

  Muttering a magic word, the center slab of stone opens to reveal a dark entrance into the ground. Taking a deep breath, the lesser sorcerer descends into the depths. Hoping it is not the last time. Edalvin despises bad news and usually kills the bearer.

  Through endless corridors and passages he travels, all the time dreading what he must say. Stopping at the massive doors of the council chamber, he waits. After several minutes, the portal swings open.

  “Tarrino—you may enter,” comes a booming voice in the large chamber.

  Bowing low, he enters with head lowered, eyes at his feet until he reaches the pedestal where the council and Edalvin sit. “Greetings my Druid brothers; I bring news of the utmost importance.”

  Edalvin leans over from his chair. “Stand up and face us Tarrino.”

  “Edalvin have mercy on this messenger. I bring news that is dire.” The beast talker fears once the Druid leader hears his message; it will end badly for him. Edalvin has swept away others for less.

  “Go on,” comes the command from the dark Druid.

  My feathered spies have found the ones you seek. They are coming this way.”

  “Chance favors us brothers,” Edalvin says to the other council members. “This is good news Tarrino. We will welcome her and those who travel with her into our web. Her wondrous saber will be mine. This time, it will not be the half-sleep, but burning in the fires of our sword makers. But, why is this bad news in your mind?”

  “She travels with three men and three women.”

  “Why is this important? They will be swept away as well.”

  “As my raven spy sat watching them pass; it felt pain as if a great white magic was directed at it. The power came not only from the saber you seek, but from other swords as well.”

  “No—it cannot be. She has obtained another of the Kcaj Sabers.”

  Tarrino starts to back away. “My lord, they possess all of them.”

  “What?” The Druid leader jumps to his feet. “For her to chance upon even one other is impossible. If your spy can be believed, then she has defeated our priestess and her sister. The great Fire Sword is held by one of them.”

  “We must leave if they are coming here. Even our combined power is no match for the Kcaj.” One of the Council of Ten sitting there says.

  “Quiet Braclee, let me think.” Edalvin observes one of the lowly servants standing just out of the central light. “You there, find Ock when he returns from his wasted journey and bring him to me.”

  The servant falls several times trying to leave the chamber as quickly as he can. Edalvin just smiles as the servant retreats.

  The others standing in the room shuffle around while those seated cannot sit still. Even those who have not heard what just transpired know something is wrong. Tension hangs in the air like a heavy choking blanket.

  Several tried to stand and Edalvin motions for them to sit back down. “D
o not be in a hurry to run. We are well hidden below the Fire Woods. Those who draw near do not know we are under their footfalls. They may be coming this way, but this place is not the goal, just a means to travel through until they reach some other objective. I can sense an even greater purpose they seek.”

  “How can you be so certain?” Tarrino asks.

  “My magic is great and I have the sight of future events. We stay hidden. Tarrino, send your animals and flyers to watch them and report on their path.” Thinking he adds. “Do you have any creature that can understand human talk?”

  “A few great one, but they are not easily concealed and are large. Elk, deer and lion can be made to understand, but they cannot retain any lengthy conversations. If too much time passes, what they heard becomes lost. I would need to be close and disseminate what they have overheard firsthand.”

  “Then why are you still here. Be about our business and wait for them on the trail. If you do hear where they are bound and why, bring word to us.”

  “You mean for me to travel near them. I could be caught and killed?”

  “Yes, you could be…but here it is certain.”

  Tarrino swallows hard. “I leave at once. May I take several Shadow Clan for protection?”

  “No fool—too many feet will raise an alarm in their camp. You have no confidence in your own magic?”

  “I do, but not against what magic the Kcaj can bring about.”

  “Coward, go now before I throw you in the fires and select another to do the task. Do not think you are the only one who can use beasts as servants.”

  Tarrino bows low and leaves the chamber while muttering under his breath. “You call me a coward, while you stay safe underground like slithering snakes.”

  Under the altar entrance above his head, he speaks the ancient Druid spell that raises the pedestal and allows him to leave. Once out in the night air, the opening closes as he backs away. Looking at the blood-stained stone, he remembers all who were put to the knife here.

  Tarrino’s mind dwells on the life of Druids. We are practitioners of human sacrifice. Those who fell under our control would be slain upon these stones. Some were burned alive in large wooden effigies.

  In the olden days, we sacrificed to our deities by drowning, hanging and burning. Now, the Gods demanded blood from a still living being. Sometimes it took days before death resulted from all the cuts upon a human body. A sacrifice acceptable to the gods had to be attended by a Druid. We once fought the Maiden and her followers as she tried to stop what she called the senseless bloodshed by the keepers of the darkness.

  Many battles were fought, and the White Witch was always the victor. If not for one Druid gravely wounded, who attacked the Maiden as she passed, all would have been lost. Edalvin and two others carried the slain Maiden off. Many thought to eat of her virgin flesh, but Edalvin would not hear of it. Now she returns.

  Tarrino smiles a little even though his insides are tossing about. “We are many now—our numbers growing over the decades. She will find us formable.”

  Then he thinks about the fabled Kcaj blades, and his resolve wavers. He almost wishes he could just keep going and turn his heel upon those that gather below ground. “Why should I stay and perchance die.” But then again, he could not escape. Edalvin would search until he found me. The death for someone who abandons the Druids is meant to be painful and endured for a long time.

  Banishing that thought from his mind, he moves quickly through the brush and trees. The enchanted fire does not issue forth as it does not work on those who have created the spell. Calling upon several ravens, he sends them on ahead to locate warriors who are heading this way.

  Tarrino is about to step from the security of the Fire Woods when one of his feathered spies returns. From what he can glean, his quarry is still half a day’s march from here. The Druid decides to wait in the shelter of a thorny thatch. With a wave of his hand, the spiky barbed vines move out of the way providing a path. Within the center of the brush, he sits in a shallow depression. The lesser Druid covers the bush in a magic enchantment to conceal his presence.

  Ravens come and go to report of those approaching. Sitting there cloaked in magic, he can hear voices off in the distance.

  “Be alert my friends, there lies the Fire woods.” The Wizard says.

  The warriors spread out in a line and move forward. They are all within sight of each other. By unspoken agreement, Gareth and Truk are guarding their flanks. Swords are drawn, arrows locked in crossbows; advancing as one body.

  They are only several steps into the forest when balls of flames drop from above. The flames hit the ground and splatter sending small droplets of fire in every direction.

  Dian has brought Hydrosin alive from a small pool of water. She slashes at the falling fire. The flames sizzle and go out when they touch the enchanted blade. “This is real and not an illusion to scare away the foolish.”

  Amari agrees. “This is a spell of the highest degree and perpetual. The fire issues from the trees above, drop upon the unwary and consume them. The dry matter on the forest floor and the tree themselves are not harmed. Something else…I sense other magic about; and close.”

  The others have closed their ranks and stand in a circle facing outward.

  “Where?” asks Natsha.

  The Maiden using her sword points in the direction of a large thorny thicket. “It is somewhere over there. It may be just more spells set upon the foliage…or a presence. It has the aura of a Druid.

  Acting on instinct, Natsha sends a crossbow bolt in the direction Amari indicated.

  “Save your arrows sister. There is no clear target.”

  Amari raises Katana over her head and says several magic words. A bluish haze gathers above them. The falling fire bounces off the mist and falls away from them.

  “Maiden,” says Gareth. “This is the same shield you raised to protect us from the arrows when we found Fin.”

  “Yes, it is the same protection. Let us continue moving through this wood. Be prepared and on guard for anything.”

  The Druid lays quiet waiting for the Maiden and her followers to move on. It was all the harder with the pain from his arm. His eyes go to his blood-soaked cloak and the arrow protruding from his arm. “Dam wench, how did fortune favor her aim? How did the White Witch sense I lay hidden here? Her powers must truly be great!”

  Silently, he summons a mule deer from further in the wood. In moments, it comes bounding through the brush and stands facing the Druid as he comes from the thicket. He touches the beast’s mind and commands it to stay close to the humans and remember their words.

  Bracing himself, he pushes the steel bolt the rest of the way through his arm. He tosses it to the ground. Moving his hand over the wound, it closes leaving a red welt. Going from the safety of the thicket, he moves in a parallel path with his quarry; staying just out of range of the Maiden’s sensing abilities…he hopes.

  The fire from the trees above continues to fall, but Amari’s umbrella of protection is strong and not even the heat reaches them.

  A slight movement to the right catches Truk’s attention. He strains to see into the heavy brush and trees. The outline of a deer moves within the forest with ease. He visibly relaxes as it is only an animal. Twice he catches sight of the animal. Neither coming closer, nor venturing further away. He decides to alert the others. “Amari, can beasts be commanded to obey the will of men?”

  Puzzled by Truk’s question, she answers. “Some who possess the thought-speech can use beasts to do their commands Truk…why do you ask?”

  “There is a deer that has been pacing us for a measurable time. It seems unnatural. I would expect it would shy away from us and take to the safety of the deeper woods.”

  They stop walking, and everyone looks in the direction where Truk is staring. They all see a mule deer just standing there watching them.

  Amari closes her eyes for a brief moment. “No magic there. It is just an animal. It may be curious of us
. I doubt it could be anything more.”

  They continue the hard trek through the forest to reach the other side and the open fields again. The fire raining from above has never ceased.

  “Amari,” asks Holl-tu as he watches the red-hot droplets hitting the top of the magic shield and splatter in all directions. “How long can you keep the shield above us?”

  The Maiden answers without turning around. “This spell will last as long I have the strength in my body and Katana to renew what I have depleted. Still, I grow weary and need rest.

  What seem like several hours later they come to a large grouping of trees.

  Natsha scans above her head. “Does anyone notice that the falling droplets of fire have stopped?”

  “Why yes they have.” Amari says with relief. “I was so intent on our track that I stopped thinking about it.” She waves her hand, and the almost invisible haze protection created by her spell disappears. She is ready to call it again if the fire should return. Amari wonders if the fire defense is only on the fringes of the forest.

  Amari and Dian are walking side by side. As they start to make their way around the tree trunks, Amari grabs Dian’s arm and pulls her back. A spear strikes the tree in front of them…the steel head buried deep in the wood and the long handle quivering from the impact.

  Dian and Amari’s heads follow the shaft of the lance to the left. Standing in the high weeds is a small helmeted form. Just then another pops up from the brush beside him with a nasty looking spear in hand. A grunt from in front and another comes from behind the tree. All three move together and face the warriors.

  Gareth, Truk and the others stand beside the Maiden and Dian. They confront what can only be wood trolls. Each has a spear pointed menacingly at the warriors. They are fierce fighters even for their size.

  The gnomes are dressed in the colors of the forest—with several shades of green and dark browns to blend in with the surroundings. Snug fitting helmets cover squat heads that sit upon shoulders that do not seem to have necks. It is as if they must turn their upper body in order to look around.

 

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