The Sword Falls

by A. J. Smith

  I turned sharply, and put a hand on Leofryc’s chest, sensing his approach. “You still have a duty, commander,” I said. “And it will not be served if you die avenging your men.”

  He closed his eyes and snarled, but didn’t struggle past me. We wouldn’t be seen by the Brethren, unless they looked directly at us, or if we made too much noise. Marius and the Outrider Knights had stayed back, holding position by the hole in the wall, and letting us process the macabre spectacle by ourselves.

  “There’re more,” said Silver Jack, joining us at the edge of the rubble. “And I think I recognize him.”

  The mercenaries on the bridge, led by a familiar face, had other bodies to display. There were wooden carts on the southern side of the river, loaded with mangled remains. Silver robes and silver armour, all stained with dried blood, were piled with disdain, and Jago Eclipse, the man I’d spared, was directing them to be hung from the bridge.

  “We should probably kill him,” continued Jack. “But maybe not now.”

  Leofryc was not about to rush to his death, but his knuckles cracked around the hilt of his greatsword. I slowly removed my hand from his chest, and stood between him and the bodies of his men. “You will remain calm,” I said.

  “Yes, my king,” he replied. “Perhaps some of my men escaped.”

  “Perhaps they did,” I said. “But right now we need to escape.”

  Silver Jack slapped at my shoulder, and pointed towards the far side of the river. “Oh shit,” he grunted.

  The three of us, obscured behind a wall of rubble, faced the bridge. A dense group of Brethren mercenaries – perhaps a dozen – were escorting two living captives to Jago Eclipse. A man and a woman, both heavily restrained, were dragged onto the bridge. The man was barely alive, but he still managed to snarl. His body fizzed as he tried to tap an empty reservoir of wyrd. The woman was less badly hurt, but just as devoid of wyrd. She nursed a broken arm, and could only slump as she was pulled forwards.

  “Oh, shit indeed,” I echoed, as I recognized the two captives.

  The woman, still clutching her silver robes, was Elizabeth Defiant, envoy of the parliament. The man, stubbornly refusing to accept death, was Rys Coldfire, called the Wolf’s Bastard.

  “You two!” barked Jago Eclipse, motioning for them to be brought before him. “You get to die slowly. Each of you is worth a lot of coin… More if you suffer. So you suffer.” He grinned at his men. “Cut ‘em, then hang ‘em.” He casually leant against the fence, surveying the swaying bodies beneath him. “The mistress wants them alive for at least another day.”

  I pressed my side again, hoping that it had miraculously healed. It had not, and I would still need at least a day before I could fight effectively. Silver Jack was equally encumbered, and Leofryc and the three Brethren could do little against more than a dozen mercenaries. “Shit,” I said again, realizing that I couldn’t stand by and watch, and was very likely about to die trying to save Rys and Elizabeth. But I knew I couldn’t just walk away.

  “I can see your mind whirring,” observed Silver Jack. “Please don’t make me do anything else stupid.”

  “Prince Oliver,” said Marius Cyclone, appearing behind us. “We need to be going. I trust you have said your goodbyes. I know little of Falcon’s Watch, but I’m sure they were brave Winterlords. They’ll be remembered.”

  All three of us looked at him, Jack with an expression of restrained pleading, Leofryc with angry condescension, and me with absolute resolve. It took a moment for the Stranger to interpret our expressions, before he tilted his head and frowned at me, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  “There are too many of them,” stated Marius. “You survived once, but you won’t a second time.”

  “I can’t accept the alternative,” I replied. “I’ve known Elizabeth Defiant since I was a boy.”

  He looked past us, across the Great Serpent, and assessed the gang of mercenaries. He acknowledged the Sea Wolf and the envoy, and appeared to be counting the Dark Brethren. “No,” he said. “Can’t be done. They’ll see us coming, and there are seventeen of them. Not to mention the other ten thousand mercenaries skulking around the Silver Dawn, waiting to hear word of the Stranger and the errant prince.”

  “There,” exclaimed Jack. “It can’t be done.”

  “What about them?” asked Leofryc Bright Hand, nodding at the nearby Outrider Knights.

  “Oh, they’re fucking dangerous,” replied Marius. “But there are only two of them. Numbers matter. Surely the Silver Parliament taught you that, commander?”

  I didn’t need to put my hand on his chest a second time, but I could sense his bristling anger. He was perhaps the first commander of Falcon’s Watch to lose all his men. Though he remained stoic, I knew his brain would be churning with thoughts of pride, honour and vengeance.

  “Nevertheless,” I said, before Leofryc could insult the Stranger, “I cannot leave them here, knowing they are still alive.”

  Behind us, upon the ornate bridge, Jago Eclipse was mocking the Wolf’s Bastard. The Sea Wolf was bound at the wrists and ankles, and growled at his captors, though his strength appeared spent. In that moment, as Marius Cyclone chewed on his lip and thought quickly, it occurred to me that Lagertha Blood, the Second Fang, must have detonated her wyrd in the Silver Parliament. Lord Ulric’s daughter had allowed us to escape, and I suddenly found a compelling reason to rescue Rys Coldfire.

  “I don’t ask you to do anything,” I said to the Stranger. “Except to give me your sword. I am injured, but I still have wyrd.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to tell a prince to fuck off,” he replied. “But we need to leave, now.”

  “My lords.” All of us turned to see the silent approach of the nameless woman. “We should act. One way or another.” She produced a wooden whistle from her black armour and looked to Marius.

  “No,” said the Stranger. “It’s too great a risk.”

  “What is?” asked Leofryc. “What are you proposing?”

  Marius bowed his head, and scratched at his tattooed neck. “There is an option,” he replied, reluctantly. “Though not one I’d thought to use before we even left the fucking hold.”

  “Look at me,” I snapped. “We are going to try to save those two. If you have an option, share it.”

  He straightened, locking eyes with me. “Of course, Prince Oliver.” He adjusted the lapels of his leather coat, and I sensed the shallowest of compliance from him. “That spirit-whistle belongs to a man named Quinn, called Full Moon. He and a dozen knights will come to our aid a single time, and a single time only, between here and Snake Guard. If we use it in the hold, not only will we be vulnerable journeying west, but we’ll attract every void legionnaire within a hundred miles. You will save those two, then kill us all. We can escape, right now, and be halfway to Snake Guard before they follow our trail.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “You’re far cleverer than me, and your survival instinct is far more acute. But I can’t leave them. Not to die like that.”

  Elizabeth Defiant was shouting as Jago’s men roughly threw her onto the bridge. She was kicked and insulted, before being dumped next to Rys’s broken body. The two of them would represent a huge amount of coin to the mercenaries, and their greed worked in our favour. Whatever else they did to their captives, they wouldn’t kill them quickly.

  “One moment, Prince Oliver,” said Marius, turning to converse privately with the woman.

  “You acknowledge he’s right,” offered Jack. “And yet you still refuse to leave. Is this some new kind of hereditary madness?”

  “James!” chided Leofryc. “Remember your position.”

  “Oh, up an eagle’s arse,” muttered my attendant, turning back to the bridge covered in mercenaries.

  The Stranger returned with the two Outrider Knights. He looked almost as annoyed as Silver Jack, though his eyes remained still and focused. He slowly cast his gaze from the three Winterlords, back to the waiting ho
le in the wall, then across the Great Serpent, to Jago Eclipse and the Dark Brethren mercenaries. “Very well,” he said. “But you will remain here, Prince Oliver. And do not argue on this point.”

  I wanted to argue, but felt it was a step too far. If the wyrd-craft of the Outrider Knights could save Elizabeth and Rys, I was prepared to remain aside. “Thank you,” I replied.

  He forced a smile, before nodding at the nameless woman. She put the small wooden whistle to her lips and vanished after blowing a single note. She hadn’t broken the glass, nor had she stepped to the void. Such craft was not practised at First Port. Winterlords saw such use of wyrd as cowardly, and quintessentially Dark Brethren.

  Marius stepped past me and leant against a high wall of rubble, looking towards the bridge. He was taking deep breaths, biting his bottom lip, as a sound reached my ears. At first a snort, then a whinny, then the heavy clatter of hooves. Everyone appeared to hear the sound, even Jago Eclipse and his mercenaries, but no one could pinpoint its origin. I could feel rushing air, almost as if huge warhorses were passing within inches of my face. The sound rose and fell, making everyone glance in all directions at once.

  “Where’s that coming from?” barked Jago, drawing his straight sword.

  The other Brethren took steps away from the bridge, assembling on the paved, southern shore of the Great Serpent. The wooden carts and dead bodies were left unattended, and only four men stood over Elizabeth and Rys.

  The sound of horses, and the clank of metal, coalesced into a single point, between us and the bridge. On the north shore, opposite the mercenaries, a swirling void path appeared from still air.

  “We must be humble,” grunted the Stranger, “and know of our sins. For they are many.”

  Jago and his mercenaries froze, as armoured warriors strode from the crackling void path. There were a dozen of them, wearing thick leather armour, coloured red and black, and holding slender twin blades. The man in front was distinct, with his armour more red than black, and his two short swords still sheathed. He had a shaven head and an angular face, resembling a bird of prey. Behind them, the void path fell in on itself and disappeared.

  “What is this?” boomed the leader, striding towards the bridge and Jago Eclipse. “Torture and degradation?”

  “Who the fuck are you?” demanded Jago. “Some cunt from the Dark Harbour? We ain’t getting paid to kill Brethren, just Winterlords. You wanna fuck off, my lord.”

  The leader in red laughed, taking a casual step onto the bridge. His warriors followed, though they didn’t appear to share their commander’s levity. In fact, each of the twelve looked like they were here only to kill people.

  “What is your name, child?” asked the leader, coming to a stop within a few feet of Jago.

  “What?” replied the mercenary. “Seriously, who the fuck are you?”

  “Hmm,” grumbled the leader, screwing up his hawkish face. “My name is Quinn, called Full Moon. I am a horizon-walker of the Outrider Knights. And I will lament upon your sins after I have severed your head.”

  Quinn crossed his arms and drew both his short swords in a single motion. With skill and strength, he cut at Jago’s throat. It was a restrained attack, using the two blades to sever his neck, but not completely behead him. All at once, the mercenary’s body went limp, as he gargled to death on his own blood, and crumpled to the ground.

  It was significantly more force than was needed, but the Outrider Knights killed every single Brethren mercenary in less than three minutes. They all wielded twin blades, which appeared to flicker as they cut their opponents to pieces. They even managed to do it without making too much noise. I knew of wyrd, and was schooled in what it could do, but I found myself amazed at how the craft of the Dark Brethren differed from that of the Winterlords.

  When the mercenaries were all dead, their bodies left broken on the southern shore, the Outrider Knights returned to the bridge. Quinn bowed his head and took a moment to stand next to the Winterlords, piled in carts, before leading his warriors to greet us. Rys Coldfire and Elizabeth Defiant were freed, though only the envoy could stand on her own. The Sea Wolf needed to be carried, and his bloodied face showed only the slightest awareness of his surroundings.

  “Marius,” said Quinn, ignoring me. “You must think a great deal of these two.”

  I limped out from cover and gathered Elizabeth in my arms. The Outrider Knights melted away from me, and each of them bowed their heads in an unexpected gesture of respect.

  “Oliver,” whispered my old tutor, shivering against me, “I thought you dead.”

  “Not yet,” I replied. “Would you believe the Stranger saved my life?”

  She blinked her puffy eyes and took in her surroundings, paying particular attention to Leofryc Bright Hand and Marius Cyclone. After a moment, and several deep breaths, she looked down at Rys’s broken body. He’d been seated against a ruined block of rubble, though his chest still rose and fell. “Would you believe the Wolf’s Bastard saved mine?” murmured Elizabeth.

  Quinn and Marius had moved away and were talking privately. The Outrider Knights had quickly cleaned their blades and dealt with minor wounds, before forming up around us. The heavy-set man had retrieved two straight swords, and gave them to Jack and I. The nameless woman, one of only two not wearing the distinctive red and black armour, was crouched over Rys, using wyrd to stop him bleeding from dozens of wounds, mostly minor, but several life threatening.

  “Will he live?” asked Elizabeth.

  “He will,” replied the woman. “This one’s heart is strong.”

  “We’re leaving,” announced Marius, returning to join us at the rubble. “Straya, you’re in charge of him.” He nodded at the broken Sea Wolf.

  The woman, apparently called Straya, immediately began hefting Rys to his feet. Leofryc sheathed his greatsword across his back, and Silver Jack and I stowed our new blades, before taking Elizabeth back towards the hole in the western wall. “Thank you,” I said a second time, now directed at Quinn, the hawk-faced Dark Brethren.

  He remained behind the Stranger and ordered his knights to form up around him. “You and I will travel far together, Oliver of the Dawn Claw. But let us save our introductions for another time. We too are leaving.”

  Behind him, rising from still air, formed a second vortex of wyrd. The Outrider Knights left as quickly as they’d arrived, disappearing from the Silver Dawn through their void path. They’d killed seventeen Dark Brethren mercenaries, without taking any serious wounds, but clearly had no intention of escorting us to safety.

  “Why didn’t they stay?” grunted Silver Jack, staring at the Stranger and the two Outriders who remained.

  “Let’s just go,” replied Marius. “I’ll tell you stories of spirit-whistles as we walk slowly to Snake Guard, inviting attack with no chance of rescue.”

  “Your point has been made,” I stated. “And now made again, and I still believe we did the right thing.”

  Somewhere in the hold were thousands more mercenaries, and the tenth void legion. Hopefully they’d assume we’d have fled to the docks, but our time was still short. Men had been killed and we couldn’t hide that, not to mention the ripples felt by the use of a void path.

  “Follow,” said Straya, her arms wrapped around Rys’s torso.

  Marius and the heavy-set man flanked the hole in the wall, and the Stranger motioned for us to clamber up the rubble and leave the hold. Silver Jack was the first to react, nodding at me and moving to ascend the rubble. Leofryc tried to help with Minister Elizabeth, but her hands were clenched tightly within my cloak, and I took responsibility for her safety.

  “Hurry, hurry, hurry,” said Jack, standing atop the rubble and offering his hand to help the envoy up. “We weren’t properly introduced, my lady. I’m James Silver Born, duellist of First Port and guardian to Prince Oliver.”

  14

  The huge island of the Father was the most primal land I’d ever seen. It made Raptor’s Nest look like a well-tended pa
rk. To the south, across a vast expanse of scrubland, dotted with rocks and brush, were the towering Night Mountains. Closer to us, following the south-western path of the Great Serpent, was the seemingly endless Wood of Webs. West of the Silver Dawn there were no roads, or visible civilization of any kind, proving how little the Eastron cared for the wilderness of their kingdom. There weren’t even any official gates leading inland from the hold. Visitors were forced to travel by boat, as we had done.

  I felt as if I was glimpsing behind the curtain of my world, and seeing things that had always been kept from me. My father had placed that curtain around me, and now that he was dead, it had fallen away. I was in a group of eight mismatched companions, all fleeing the hold because an era had ended in blood and wyrd, and the next era… my era, had not yet begun. I had no idea what I was going to do, or how I was going to do it. All I knew was that I must be king. That had not changed.

  We’d left the hole in the wall, and quickly moved north-west, towards the tree line. Silver Jack and I were gradually healing and could jog at a fair pace, but Rys Coldfire and Elizabeth Defiant both needed carrying. Leofryc held the envoy, and Straya, the Outrider Knight, held the Sea Wolf. Marius Cyclone and the other Brethren ran in the lead, directing us north of the river to the relative cover of the trees. Snake Guard was to the south, but the Stranger insisted that we needed to hide. He was probably right. The manner of our escape from the Silver Dawn had not been as stealthy as the Brethren wanted, and we’d need to avoid any pursuers before we could travel south. We broke the tree line and slowed. Rys was not yet conscious, but Elizabeth needed rest.

  “How much longer?” asked Silver Jack, panting against a thick tree trunk.

  “Until what?” queried Straya, placing the limp form of the Wolf’s Bastard against the same tree.

  “Until we can sit down,” replied Jack. “A fire, maybe some food.”

  The Outrider Knight bowed to my attendant. “I humbly suggest that we keep moving after a short rest.”