King's Warrior (The Minstrel's Song Book 1)

by Jenelle Leanne Schmidt

  Heads nodded at the wisdom of Wessel’s words and the people began to calm down, though they still called out questions.

  “So, do we defend our home or do we flee?”

  “Does the Lady Calyssia have any final words for us in this great time of need, or has she already departed?”

  “The Lady Calyssia does have a few words for you.” Suddenly Calyssia was there, her voice full of sorrow and farewell, but her eyes full of excitement and wonder. “Yes, I am leaving, and I am here to wish you farewell. You have come here from many different places and for many different reasons, but you all came. You all found a place of refuge, yes, but also a place of purpose, and you all learned to live and work together.

  “At some point, the student must become independent of the teacher and learn the hard way, by making his or her own decisions. This is why I am not going to tell you what to do when the enemy comes. I will only tell you this, if you stay and fight, you may be able to strike a forceful blow against the Dark Country. Know also, if you choose to stay, many of you will most certainly be killed. The Dark Warriors are skilled in warfare, and you, my friends, are not. The choice must be yours. The only request that I make...” Calyssia stopped, oddly out of breath and her face paled with the effort of standing before them. She swallowed and swayed slightly, then she continued to speak, her voice thin. “The only thing I would ask of you... is to forgive me... for not having the strength... to protect you.”

  With these words, Calyssia collapsed onto the sand. Wessel and his wife, Rena, were at her side in an instant. Rena sat down and lifted the Lady’s head and shoulders, surprised at how light she had become. Wessel knelt beside his wife, his eyes worried. Someone brought a small cup of water and Rena held it to Calyssia’s lips. The water made Calyssia’s eyes flutter open and she looked into the worried eyes that peered down at her.

  “The sea...” she rasped, “please... it is my only chance.”

  Wessel lifted the Lady into his arms. Followed by Rena and the rest of the people of the Cove, he carried Calyssia down to the water’s edge. He waded out into the gentle waves and then looked down at the frail wizardess.

  Rena stood beside him and her eyes narrowed in concern. “You are sure?”

  Calyssia’s eyes were wide and frightened. She looked very young and her eyes held a hint of panic as she looked out towards the sea. But she nodded firmly.

  “I have hidden from my grief... for too long. I have hidden from my past... my mother’s curse, and the pain she caused my father. It is time to face... the unknown. To see for myself...” She did not explain further and Wessel nodded.

  “Good-bye,” he said softly.

  Rena held Calyssia’s hand, as Wessel set the Gate-Keeper in the sea, then, taking his wife’s hand, they both turned away and headed back to the shore and their people.

  Calyssia floated on top of the water for a moment. The light of the Toreth shone down solely upon the Keeper, framing her in a shimmering, pale glow. She sank gently beneath the surface of the water. The wind blew forcefully in from the sea, carrying the fragrant smell of sea-salt and ocean-breeze to her friends, her family, waiting on the shore. Suddenly, Calyssia broke through the surface and stood up in the water, as if her strength had suddenly returned. Her long blond hair, strangely dry and looking silver in the light of the Toreth, blew out behind her, unbound and rippling in the wind like sweet strains of music.

  The incoming waves crested around her like great, white, foaming giants, then broke and returned out to sea, trying to swallow the delicate form of the gentle creature. Yet she remained, and suddenly her laughter filled the night, borne on the wind, daring the waves to come ever closer, fearless and excited.

  The waves returned her challenge and Calyssia’s eyes sparkled with silvery green fire and she smiled, a genuine, delight-filled smile. She swam with powerful strokes towards the horizon, her long hair streaming behind her. She delighted in the feel of the water, rushing past her as the currents carried her far out to sea. The music of the ocean and the waves sang to her, and she sang back, swimming with reckless abandon, feeling younger than she had in years.

  She turned and looked one last time upon her Pearl Cove. Oh, how she had loved it. As she looked for the final time upon this haven of peace that had been entrusted to her care, she was overcome with emotion. She remembered the magic of the sand, and the peace and security that her Cove had provided. She spotted a child watching from a dune. The child appeared as a star of pure gold, whose light burned strong, and Calyssia felt a surge of hope swell inside for the future of Aom-igh. The future was in the hearts and purposes of the children: it was no longer her concern. Calyssia waved to the child, and then to the others on the shore, and she cried out joyfully, “Fare well!” Then she dove into the depths of the sea and she was gone.

  The Lady was gone. The people could all feel it. Her presence had been strong, like the warmth of the Dragon’s Eye or the soft light of the Toreth. And now that guiding light, that protection, was gone, vanished into the night like a mist.

  Those who had gathered shivered as the night air suddenly turned chilly and they looked to Wessel for direction. Wessel had always been respected within the Cove; he knew that the people would turn to him now that the Lady was gone. He sighed, and when he spoke, his quiet voice carried across the sands.

  “The Lady told me that it might be time for us to take what we have learned to the rest of Aom-igh. She also told me that the people we have isolated ourselves from for so many years now may have something to teach us as well.” He shrugged, a small motion. “I do not know what tomorrow holds, but I do know that even though I have isolated myself and my family from the rest of Aom-igh, it has never ceased to be my home. The ones who come to our shores with the intent to conquer... they threaten all of us as well. I will send my family away from here, I will ask my wife and child to carry news of this invasion to King Arnaud. But I intend to make a stand here on the shores of my home and strike a blow at this enemy. I will isolate myself from the troubles of the world no longer. I ask you to return to your homes and decide for yourselves what you will do on the morrow.”

  The group broke up and Wessel returned to his home with Rena and their daughter, Kaitryn. Rena made dinner and began packing their few belongings into a small sack. There were tears in her eyes as she set about these tasks.

  Wessel caught his wife’s hand and squeezed it gently, forcing her to stop packing for a moment. “You will take the Western Pass through the mountains. I will catch up with you when I have done all I can here.”

  “But what if you don’t?”

  “I will catch up with you.”

  “It has been years since you swung a sword or drew a bow,” Rena glanced at the sleeping form of their young daughter on a small mattress in the corner. “She needs her father.”

  “I do not intend for her to lose her father,” Wessel replied.

  “You cannot know what will happen in the course of battle. Why must you stand and fight here? The Cove is already returning to an ordinary beach, the shield is already fading, this place is our home no longer.”

  “Long ago, we came to the Cove, searching for peace and Calyssia taught us strength; not in weapons or battles, but in common, everyday courage and sacrifice. We return now to Aom-igh where peace is threatened, bringing an ally to their cause. The men will make a stand here to help win the battle, and you and all of the others will travel to King Arnaud to help win the future for our shared country. This may indeed have been the purpose the Lady intended for us. I do not intend to let enemies land on our shores and invade our lands unhindered.”

  Rena let out a small sob and threw herself into her husband’s arms. “You are right. You’re right,” she whispered, “but I wish it didn’t have to be.”

  Long into the dark hours of the night they clung to each other. For despite Wessel’s brave and confident words, he too worried that this was the last time he would hold his wife and
look upon his daughter.

  The night was a long one, for they all knew what awaited them in the days to come, and none of the Cove People could find it in themselves to get more than a few hours’ rest. Following Wessel’s example, the men had all decided to stand and fight.

  Morning dawned with a cold, heavy fog that was unusual for Pearl Cove. Usually the weather in the Cove was bright and warm. The people arose from their beds with heavy hearts and quietly prepared themselves for the coming of the Dark Warriors. The women and children were guided towards the mountains, and their men promised to rejoin them soon. There were few tears, for their farewells had all been said the previous night.

  When the women and children were safely into the mountain pass, the men readied themselves for battle. Some who had faced battle before took out swords and shields, long unused, while others made crude weapons from their tools and implements. Wessel separated the men into smaller formations and hid them in disparate locations believing that surprise and multiple attacks against their enemy would prove more effective than a single, momentary battle against a foe that was certain to win. Wessel knew that their battle was for time, not for victory.

  They did not have to wait long. Great ships appeared on the horizon. The size and number of the ships was enough to strike dismay into the brave hearts of the men and the few myth-folk who had long ago chosen to stay above ground in the safety of Pearl Cove, but they held steady, their hands gripping their weapons tightly. Wessel turned to a younger man, no more than a boy, who was standing near him and gestured for him to come closer. The boy stepped forward eagerly, a long dagger held firmly in his hand.

  “This is no intelligence gathering foray, as we first thought,” Wessel spoke quietly. “This is the beginning of the final battle to conquer our lands. You must run, catch up with the women and children and carry a message to King Arnaud. He looks to the sea for his enemy, but he will come from the mountains. He will come from behind.”

  The boy’s face fell slightly, but he could not hide the relief in his brown eyes. “Hurry now, lad, for this information is critical to our King!” He repeated the message. “And tell our families to run. We will not be able to hold the enemy for long, but we will do our best to give you all a fair head start on them.”

  The boy swallowed hard and nodded. Then he darted up and off north, towards the mountains and safety.

  The armada of Dark Warriors reached the shore by nightfall. Dressed in black leather, equipped with swords and shields, the Dark Warriors wasted no time in their approach to the mountains. Their enemy was on the far side of those mountains. Suddenly, a horn blew and the unseen men of Pearl Cove attacked. The battle raged furiously, starting out well for the Cove People. They had the edge of surprise and righteous anger on their side, and their fight was desperate as well as self-sacrificing. The Dark Warriors had not been expecting to face such defiance or such passion so soon, for they had been told by Prince Elroy that this part of the coast was uninhabited by living creatures. But the training and fighting instincts drilled into the Dark Warriors soon took over, and the tide of battle turned.

  Steel clashed on steel, bowstrings twanged, and the cries of dying men filled the night air as the battle raged on. The Dark Warriors fought with skill and power matching the pictures painted of them in fear-filled rumors, but the men of Pearl Cove stood fearlessly against them. Blood stained the pure white sand as good men fell to the ground and breathed their last.

  Wessel was fighting for his life. He had promised his six-year-old daughter, Kaitryn that he would come and join them on their journey as soon as they had defeated the Dark Warriors. He had known it was a lie. He had known that their chance for victory was slim, but her wide, pleading blue eyes had ripped the promise from him even as the lie had torn his heart in two.

  “Daddy,” she had said, her dark, curly blond hair framing her sweet, innocent little face, “why do we have to leave?”

  “Because some very bad people are coming here, and you must leave so that you and your mommy will be safe,” he had replied, kneeling in front of her.

  She had thrown her tiny arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. “Promise me you’ll join us soon, Daddy,” she had whispered, her voice thick with tears.

  In a choked voice he had promised, “Just as soon as I can, Kitry, I promise.”

  Wessel had received several battle wounds by now; a trickle of blood was running down his face from a gash high on his forehead. His left arm burned where an arrow had struck him a glancing blow. He was breathing hard and he was exhausted. He was no warrior, though he had been fairly good with a sword, once. However, he was sorely out of practice. He was now facing two Dark Warriors, his back to a large sand dune. In desperation he went down on one knee, spinning with one leg stretched out he tripped one of the warriors even as he stabbed the other with his sword. The second warrior climbed to his feet, and the dance began. The warrior was smiling slightly, as if he knew that victory was his, relishing the fight. Wessel’s face was also grim, knowing that this would be his last fight.

  ❖ ❖ ❖

  Coy found himself facing a man his own age. Sweat dripped down into his eyes and he blinked grimly, knowing that if he took a moment to wipe it away it might be the last thing he ever did. They had been assured that they would meet no resistance upon reaching the shore. They were part of a three-pronged invasion. What had gone wrong? Their mission was to make their way secretly through Aom-igh to the capital city of Ayollan, where they were to await their signal and then attack the enemy soldiers from the rear. They had already lost far too many men in this unexpected battle. What had been military orders now became personal as the warrior before him had just killed the man next to him, a man who had been Coy’s best friend since their first years in battle training.

  Coy sprang to his feet and faced the man who had just killed his friend. He had not known what to believe when setting off on this mission. He did not like the idea of a surprise attack. His training recoiled at the thought of attacking a land without warning or provocation. The reports linking Aom-igh to their enemies was unconvincing. But now that he had seen for himself how cunning the people of Aom-igh could be, how they had obviously positioned their warriors where they ought to have been least expected, and how viciously they fought, Coy was ready to believe the worst about this country he had known nothing about before less than a year ago. He faced the man before him, his face set in a dark smile. He would make the enemy pay for the death of his friend.

  ❖ ❖ ❖

  The warrior swung, his blade narrowly missing Wessel’s face. Wessel leaned back, then stabbed forward, nicking the Dark Warrior in the arm, just at a joint in his armor, drawing first blood. The warrior’s eyes narrowed and he focused his whole attention upon the man before him. Wessel lunged again, as the Dark Warrior sliced at his knees. Wessel brought his sword down in a block, and the blades screeched as they clashed. The force of the blow made Wessel’s arm tingle and he barely managed to block the next slice, which this time was aimed at his left arm. He twisted his body impossibly and kicked the Dark Warrior in the stomach, pushing him away. The warrior grunted and stumbled backwards, gasping for air. Wessel used the warrior’s stumble to his advantage and leaped after him, stabbing him through the heart.

  The Dark Warrior crumpled, a look of astonishment on his face as he slipped into death. Wessel stood above him, breathing hard. He looked around, and saw that they were quickly losing the battle. He sighed and dropped his eyes, his heart heavy, as he saw the white coast littered with the bodies of both friends and enemies alike.

  Just then, someone sounded the horn for a retreat. Wessel turned to obey the order to retreat and felt a sharp pain shoot through him. He looked down and blinked at the arrow sticking out of his side. He looked up towards the border and saw it begin to swim before his eyes. His blood dripped onto the sand and he sank to his knees, unable to cross the distance to the safety of the forest. He slowly fel
l to the ground and stared up at the pale blue sky. The Dragon’s Eye was setting, causing the edge of the horizon to seem as though it were on fire. Pink and orange beams of light streaked across the canvas of blue above him. His breath caught at the beauty of it all, and he wondered if his wife and daughter were seeing it as well, hoping it appeared to them as beautiful and magnificent and as full of confidence as it appeared to him.

  As he thought again of his family, memories swam behind his eyes. He saw his wife, Rena, as the laughing young girl who had stolen his heart. He recalled the two of them finding their way to Pearl Cove. He saw Kaitryn as a tiny baby, born inside the protective barrier of the Cove, a baby who smiled and gurgled at everyone. Then he saw her learning to walk, and he saw Rena and himself rejoicing over Kaitryn’s first steps, her first words. His life had been full of happy memories that flooded over him now in comforting waves.

  Weariness overtook him and Wessel closed his eyes, his only regret that he could not keep his promise. “I’m sorry Kitry,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  ❖ ❖ ❖

  The tunnel they had been traveling along suddenly turned into a dead end.

  “Here it is,” Brant said, “the exit.”

  Kamarie looked at him questioningly, but said nothing. Oraeyn and Yole exchanged looks of confusion, seeing nothing in front of them but a solid rock wall.

  Brant turned to Dylanna. “I do not believe I can open the door, can you?”

  Dylanna raised an eyebrow as he said this, surprised that he was admitting that there was something he could not do, then she frowned at the wall. “I can try,” she said in a voice of deep concentration.

  She walked up to the wall and ran a hand across it, her eyes searching. She allowed her fingertips to trail lightly, exploring every tiny crack and indentation on the rough surface of the wall. Suddenly her fingers stopped at a slightly larger indentation on the wall, and a light broke over her face. She pushed at the spot and said in a commanding voice: “Arach Deiseal!”