Legend of the Iron Flower Box Set (Books 1-4)

by Billy Wong

  Rose and the leader went at it, their bloody swords clashing again and again while their companions fought around them. She was shocked by how skilled and fast the man seemed; his blades were everywhere at once, and no matter what she did she could not get past his guard. He was like no one she'd ever faced, bandit or training partner, and she realized as he sliced her hip open that her usual tactics would not do. So she fought harder, battering him with short slashes from her sword which allowed her to keep pace while sprinkling in blows with her shield to keep him off balance. He started to retreat, and she thought she could win. Then, another man came to his aid.

  The second warrior also wielded two weapons, a sword and a handaxe, and was just as fast if not quite as strong as the first. They slashed her again and again, Rose barely able to ward off even half their blows. Her chain mail broke with every hit, and blood ran down the hanging links from the gashes in her flesh. Slowly but surely, they were killing her.

  "Who are you?" she gasped out between quick breaths. "Why are you doing this? Were the ones we killed... your friends?"

  "Some of them, yes." The leader smiled. "But more importantly, we were thralls of the plant monster you slew. Once we were the fiercest of robbers, but its control dulled our minds and made us docile. Now that we're free, we've decided to test ourselves on you, and see if we still have our skills."

  All this was for sport? Rose's heart seemed to slow as rage suppressed her fear, and her voice became a snarl. "You're monsters." That she had freed them to kill her friends made it all the more urgent she correct her mistake; she would save blaming herself for later. Gritting her teeth, she accepted a slash to her side as she darted at the second man and caved in his throat with the rim of her shield. But she'd left herself open, and the leader stabbed her through the right breast.

  He pulled the sword out to an ugly squishing sound, and Rose's blade tumbled from her hand. "You fought well, girl. I hope you have a good afterlife." And as the blood gushed from her gruesome wound and she began to fall, he turned away.

  Hatred energizing her as she watched his receding back, Rose righted herself, walked forward, and reached out with both hands. She twisted, and bones crunched as his neck snapped. She wouldn't go down that easily.

  Looking around, though, she felt the sting of bile rising in her throat, and her eyes filled with tears. Jasper lay with his skull split open, brains strewn in a mess about his head. Huey was facedown with a hole in his back. Swain was dead. Merrick hugged himself in a bloody puddle, facing away from her.

  The bandits were dead too—why hadn't they run away, but continued this to such a hopeless point? It was insane. Everyone was dead—almost. Bert was still fighting, covered in wounds and trying desperately to ward off a lean bandit with a sword and long dagger. Rose picked up her sword and limped as fast as she could to help, but it wasn't enough. Bert tried to grab his opponent, but the bandit sliced his face with his dagger, cut his throat with his sword, and spun to face Rose.

  "Fiend," she whispered, trying not to faint at the sight of so much horror, so much death. She barely felt herself dash forward, slashing like a tempest at the last vile creature who right now stood for everything that had been done to her friends. They fought, and the monster smiled at her. How could he do that? All his friends were dead, and yet he relished the fight. Rose didn't understand at all, and didn't really care.

  Kill, that was what she had to do. She cut half the fingers of his dagger hand away, and he screamed. She thrust at his neck. He barely dodged, but lost his balance and fell on his side. And then, she heard Merrick's voice. "H-help me..." He sounded so weak, but he was alive, and Rose's heart urged her to finish the fight and run to his aid. She chopped down at the fallen bandit, but he rolled. Her sword buried itself in the riverbank. She wrenched it free easily enough, but in her moment of vulnerability her opponent lunged up and swung his sword into her belly.

  She coughed weakly, blood dribbling down her chin, and stared at the man who had sliced her open. He grinned as she staggered off his blade. She felt her guts begin to slide out of her and grabbed the wide wound tight, holding them in. The pain overwhelmed her, and she fell to her knees. The bandit gripped his sword with both hands and raised it high. Sunlight glinted off the steel, like a blade cutting through her dimming sight.

  Her sword came up, catching the descending weapon as she forced herself to move. Then she wrenched the locked blades down and sideways, throwing her opponent off balance. Before he could recover, she reversed the course of her sword to slice into his side. He staggered back, gushing almost as badly as her now, and she stood, anguished moans pouring from her mouth. He stared at her and slashed desperately one last time. With a gasp, she sidestepped and kicked him right in his wound, and he stumbled back to topple into the rushing river by which they fought. He screamed for a while, then his voice faded away.

  Rose tried to ignore the feeling of all the wrong things touching her left hand as she limped to Merrick's side and knelt, turning him over with a silent prayer. She saw blood spurting from a gash in his inner thigh, and immediately grabbed it in an attempt to hold it shut. But she knew in her heart that it was no use; the artery had been nicked and Merrick would not last long.

  "Looks like you'll be captain now," he said softly.

  There was no one left to be captain of. "No, Merrick," Rose begged as she struggled to hold her trembling body upright. "Don't go."

  He tried to say something more but couldn't, the death rattle building in his throat. Before he was even finished dying, Rose had already laid her head onto his chest, weeping like there would be no time for tears ever again. When she was finished, she looked up to see the rest of her dead friends and cried some more.

  She gave them all the same burial in the waters of the river, giving Merrick up last as she could hardly acknowledge his death, which was also the death of her new life. She didn't know what she would do now, if she even survived. A makeshift bandage holding her guts in, she staggered away.

  Chapter 4

  Rose felt a complete wreck when she walked back into Hullel, and her appearance reflected her mood. She had lost weight, especially in the face, and great bags hung beneath her swollen eyes. Everyone stared at her like she was a demon, or perhaps an angel fallen into hell. Some were brave enough to ask what had happened, but she didn't respond, seeking only to get home. Her body and soul alike were wracked with pain. She had spent a bit of time at a roadside church recovering from her wounds, but not nearly enough to let them really heal. The priest there had been too kind, and she didn't deserve it enough to stay.

  Through one last encounter with a surviving bandit from the riverside, she had learned that their recklessness could at least partially be attributed to a curse they'd suffered exploring some old ruins prior to their subjugation. She considered making it her new goal to learn more about the magic of the ancients in order to help protect the modern world. Maybe—if she could find the strength. Right now, she was in so much pain.

  She had spent much of the trip home sobbing and cursing herself for failing to protect her friends, and gotten little sleep. When slumber did take her, dreams of her dead comrades' faces were never far away. How could she have failed so badly? She had thought to have saved them by destroying the shrub beast, only for them to perish as a result of that victory. All her efforts had amounted to nothing, after all. Had she really killed them? They might still be alive if she had found some other course to take.

  Arriving at her house, Rose found both her parents absent. She slumped into an old chair in the dining room just past the front door, glancing about her familiar surroundings with remorseful eyes. She'd given her parents no end of frustration and worry by insisting on her ill-fated endeavor, and only lost more than she'd ever dreamed possible in return.

  A quick knocking at the door pricked her ears, but she waited for it to repeat itself twice before rising to answer. She was in no mood to deal with even routine things, and had no idea what was go
ing on nowadays in Hullel besides. To her surprise, it was Ed who awaited her outside.

  "Hey, Rose! I didn't expect you to be back. Why so soon? You-" He caught the despondent cast of her eyes. "Are you okay?"

  "No. Here, come inside."

  Though she'd expected not to, they talked and talked, and Rose somehow felt better as she revealed the debacle with the mayor and his wife to an uninvolved soul. She was crying heavily by the end of that tale, and Ed hugged her. "It wasn't your fault. Stupid Jasper. I told you he wouldn't make it."

  She frowned at his insensitivity. "He was scared, just like me. Except I was so scared, I couldn't even do a stupid thing like him."

  "So what happened after that? Did you quit or what?"

  Now she had to tell him the next catastrophe, and this time she couldn't even get through it in detail. Instead, she summarized, "They're all dead. We were attacked by men I freed, and only I survived."

  His eyes widened as he stared into hers, then he touched her hand. "I already know it's not your fault; you couldn't have known. But I am glad I wasn't there."

  She managed a smile. "I'm glad of that too." If he had come, he would be dead.

  "Who do think will replace Niles," he asked softly, "now that you and Huey are off the list?"

  "Replaced. He would have retired by now. But I don't really care. It's got to be someone okay."

  "You look hungry as hell."

  "I haven't eaten a proper meal in days."

  "Want me to fix you some food?"

  "Yes, I'd like that. Thanks, Ed. Make sure it's not too spicy, alright?"

  He gave her a puzzled look. "Why? You love spicy food."

  Lifting her shirt a bit, she showed him the scar. "Not right now, I don't. The stomachaches haven't gone away."

  Ed's face turned deathly pale. "Gods, Rose. That looks really bad."

  "It is. Mind the spice."

  "How... how could you even survive? A gut wound, Rose... were you somehow healed with magic, or what?"

  She shook her head, wondering herself how she could endure such damage and live. "No, no magic. But this is the second time I've suffered a mortal wound and lived. I don't know why I'm so tough, but there must be something special about me."

  "Like what? Surely you're not admitting to being the God-Touched now, after all this time." He smiled, though there was little real humor in his voice.

  "I really can't say for sure that that's not the case. All I know is, I'm a freak."

  "It's not like we didn't know that already."

  "So, what have you been doing?"

  Her mischievous friend recounted his local adventures as they ate, which proved far more entertaining than anything Rose had had to say. He even made her laugh, and she had for the moment forgotten her troubles when her mother opened the door. "Rose?!"

  "Mom! I'm so glad I could see you again." She ran and wrapped Lise in a great hug, lifting the large woman off her feet.

  "You're acting like you haven't seen me in years," Lise said. "We've only been apart four months."

  "And it's been an eternity."

  "Bye," Ed said, promptly heading for the door. Despite his strong friendship with Rose, Lise had never been particularly welcoming of him.

  "You've got scars," Lise observed with a concerned frown.

  "I'm fine." Rose wasn't going to worry her mother with complaints. "So where's Dad?"

  As she watched her mother's face droop, she knew the happiness that had seemed so close was not in her future. "He's sick. H-he... might die."

  #

  Lise told her then how Rick had contracted severe pneumonia and was now laid out in the clinic Glen ran, barely clinging to life. It shocked Rose that her father, seemingly so strong to her young eyes, had been struck down by such a mundane ailment. But as terrifying as the possibility of her father's death was, it wasn't the only problem. Their family had no source of income now, and while Lise had tried to find work, without any skills all her efforts had amounted to were the occasional babysitting or housekeeping job which never paid enough. By now, she was living largely off neighbors' charity.

  Rose visited her father in the clinic, but he was depressingly unresponsive. As she left misty-eyed with her mother, Lise said plainly, "You need to get a job."

  She felt far too tired to work, and maybe if she had remembered to take whatever she could from the dead bandits, she would've had something to offer as an alternative. But she'd been too sad and hurt to think of that. "What should I do?" she replied in a low, weary voice. She didn't have much in the way of skills that would be useful around town.

  "I don't know. Something that makes a lot of money."

  Rose stared at her mother. "What? We don't need that much to survive..."

  "We've had to borrow a lot to pay for medicine for your father. We're going to have to pay it back someday."

  There went her plan of becoming a simple laborer. She swallowed, thinking of Lise's decision not to rely on Rick for the repayment money as an acknowledgment of the fact he might die. "What am I supposed to do? There's nothing around here for a woman to do to make her rich." Was there such a thing anywhere?

  "You have to go to the city. That's the land of opportunity."

  She never could get a break. She'd nearly been broken by pain so shortly before, and already she had to bear the burden of her family's survival. But she accepted it, of course; she had no real choice. "What would I do there? I've got no skills."

  Lise kissed her cheek and smiled. "You're big, smart, and strong as an ox. I'm sure you can find something."

  But those weren't skills. Rose realized then what kind of work she would have to find. "Yeah, Mom, I'm sure I can. Hope to see you soon." If she survived.

  #

  Rose decided to visit Ed once more before she left, knowing it might be a long time before she could see her friend again. When he opened the door, he quickly noticed the distress in her eyes. Inviting her in, he asked, "What's wrong?"

  "Looks like I've got a career, Ed." She could barely hold back her urge to cry.

  He carefully looked over her face. "What do you mean?"

  She sighed. "I'm going to have to fight some more. My dad's sick, and we can't pay. So it's me who has to go and make us the gold we need."

  "So you're the one of us who's going to be the professional warrior. I never would have thought it."

  "Why not? Don't think I'm capable of it?"

  "You've got more strength and skill than most people could dream, though not enough to fool me into thinking you weren't holding back all the time. But you're still a girl. If for that alone, I always thought it would be me before it could be you."

  Rose didn't blame him. His father was a former soldier, too. By all rights, it should have been him. And it felt cruel for her to say, "I might've liked it better if it'd been you."

  "You don't like fighting, do you?"

  "Of course not. I'm good at it, and it's all I know to do, but I hate killing. I wouldn't mind fighting in competition for sure, though!"

  "Maybe you could fight in tournaments to raise what you need."

  Rose had looked into it before, even before she'd really learned to fight. "Not enough of them open to unknowns like me, and the prizes aren't big enough. And it'd take too long for me to stop being an unknown."

  "Even you?"

  "Even me."

  Ed frowned. "Maybe I could talk my dad into helping you."

  Really? That would be nice. Rose wasn't above taking help from a kind neighbor. But then... "How would we pay you back?"

  "I don't know. I guess your father could do it when he gets better."

  If he did. "Thank you so much. You're everything I could ask from a friend."

  "Nah. If I'd been a better friend, I would've been there with you in RIEL."

  "You would've been killed."

  He glanced at her belly, seeming to remember the hideous scar beneath. "And then I wouldn't be a friend at all, huh? You're right. I'm better off alive.
"

  They laughed together, and continued to talk while they waited for his father. But Ed wasn't able to convince him to help after all, the former soldier turned trader citing the decreasing productiveness of the silver mine for his reluctance to part with his money. "Sorry, Rose," Ed said once they were alone.

  "I wasn't counting on you anyway. But I'm grateful you tried."

  "Why weren't you counting on me? You don't trust me?"

  She smiled. "Of course I trust you, Ed. You're my oldest friend. But I've come to rely first and foremost on myself, in my dark times."

  "That's smart. There's plenty of strength to trust in you, for sure. Good luck, though I don't think you'll need it."

  "And I won't have it, either. Bye, Ed. Take care." She walked towards the door, hoping they would meet again.

  "Bye, Rose. Bring back some good stories."

  "I will. I damn sure will!"

  #

  She hastened to the nearby city of Seil, a cramped waypoint for intra-kingdom trade located in the middle of Kayland and surrounded by fertile farmland. The buildings were tall and set close to one another, as if their architects hadn't wanted to waste any land. She didn't know where to go to pursue her line of work, so it was in one of Seil's countless seedy taverns where she began her search. Her nose crinkled as she walked into the dimly lit barroom, the smell of smoke, sweat, and perfume hitting her with unfamiliar strength.

  Being totally naive to the local ways, Rose simply walked up to the barkeep and asked, "So where would a freelance mercenary sign up for a fight? Preferably one that pays well."

  He laughed in her face. "Mercenary? A pretty girl like you? Are you serious?"

  "I can handle myself in a fight."

  "Hey, Sally, this girl thinks she can fight! Care to come over here and put her to the test?"

  Sally was a man, and a big, ugly one at that. About the same height as Rose, he was close to twice as broad, and he walked over with a mocking sneer on his ruddy face. "You're a big lass. Let me see that sword of yours?"