The New Guard (Crossroads Book 1)

by Matthew M. Johns

  It was after this city that Haven was modeled. The bastion walls were manned by all save a few of the twelve races. However, long ago, like nearly all cities, the walls did not keep out the forces of darkness unless the guard was vigilant and the people rallied to the capital’s defense. Little by little, one at a time, the enemy got past the walls and infested the city. Alawnwee’s fears of coming to Dauntalus were not unfounded. Demons had taken up residence in the shadows and whispered sin in the ears of all who would listen. Though at times the spiritual warfare of the Central Kingdom would be straightforward and public, most often it was fought as it was in all the inhabitable worlds. Demons corrupted people, drove them mad, and slowly eroded their moral center. Angels and saints fought idealistic battles and spoke of values, trying to guide the populace to the right and true way of God. Many days it seemed the enemy was winning the battle for the Crossroads within the walls of the Central Kingdom. Yet righteousness fought on.

  *

  As the sun set, Jared urged the horses to go as fast as they could. One warrior trailed, one galloped along on either side, and one rode with Jared up in the driver’s seat. Weapons were drawn and eyes were searching warily. Dauntalus was just over a mile away; however, it was a far distance to be traveled in the night.

  Ferreter had wisely instructed his hound to hide during the day within sight of the capital. Now with the last rays of daylight gone, hound and Rider reunited in the shadows within sight of the carriage. The demon too was there, in possession of three snipes and one woodpecker.

  “Slim pickings, Rider,” the demon was reporting through the woodpecker. “The road between Haven and the capital are still too traveled and patrolled for any true hideout to be established. We are all that is left to take the carriage.”

  “Very well,” Ferreter growled. “We must act quickly then; they will be within range of the gates far too soon. Have the snipes crawl into one of the saddle bags. I’ll toss it upon the carriage as I pass on my way to take out one of the side guards. The hound will dispatch the other one. While we both attack the rear guard, you use the snipes to see to the two driving.”

  Without waiting for a reply from the demon, Ferreter urged his horse into a faster pace so as to pass the wagon while still in the shadows. Once past, he wheeled around and rode right for the carriage. He grabbed the saddle bag in his right hand and formed a shadow sword in his left. The hound ran parallel to him as they bounded forward. Within sight of the horse team they broke apart: Ferreter to the carriage’s left, the hound to the right.

  Jared and the warrior riding with him both cried out the alarm, but the Dark Rider and the Void hound were swift as shadows. The two Coterie guards on either side of the carriage fell with little struggle, and Ferreter tossed the saddle bag up onto the roof. The warrior there heard the movement and acted quickly, turning to the rear two tomahawks already in his hands.

  On Earth, snipes are simple water fowl. However, on the Coterie home world, the name is used to describe a far more dangerous creature. They are creatures easily trained to serve the forces of the Void. Their multi-hued hides allow them to blend into most backgrounds. Their sharp claws enable them to scale even the smoothest brick walls, and their sharp incisors can cut through softer metals and stone. In size most snipes are no larger than dachshunds but possess the wiriness of weasels.

  The warrior had a hard time keeping track of all three snipes at once. However, Coterie boys are raised on snipe hunts. The warrior’s hatchets swung hither and yon; the snipes’ bodies bobbed and weaved. Cuts and bites were traded left and right. Soon all the snipes and the warrior were bleeding from several different wounds.

  Jared bellowed out, to those upon the gate, “We are under attack!”

  Neither the Coterie man nor the snipes were distracted by Jared’s shout, but the demon possessing the snipes was. The demon compelled the snipes to move so it could better see the upcoming gate, but only succeeded in causing them to lose the rhythm of the fight. Two of the snipes paid the price for this folly with their lives. The demon felt the sting of death and pushed at the last snipe to jump from the carriage. The warrior took a deep breath and let it out; however, that would be the extent of his respite.

  After the Dark Rider and the hound killed the side guards, they both sped back to the rear one. The fight was joined and lasted longer than Ferreter thought it would. The warrior was armed with a short spear that had a long blade, and he wore a studded glove that ran up to his elbow. The thick leather and rounded studs acted as a great shield, deflecting Ferreter’s sword and the hound’s teeth. The short spear also was a powerful weapon, giving the warrior a great reach. Ferreter and the hound had to fight hard for the victory they finally won.

  Once the Coterie man was dispatched, the Rider rode to the back of the carriage and signaled the hound to go up. A beat after the hound’s unearthly jump to the top of the carriage, Ferreter followed.

  Bleeding, nearly breathless, the Coterie warrior atop the carriage stood against Void hound and Dark Rider. He gripped his axes firmly and charged. So too did the hound. When they clashed, the guard took a firm grip of the hound as it sank wicked fangs into his flesh. With a roar, the warrior flung himself off of the carriage, hound still in hand.

  Ferreter looked over and watched as the two fell and saw the warrior struggling with the hound even as they hit the ground. Ferreter reminded himself to never underestimate the desperate measures the Coterie will attempt against the forces of the Void. However, that was not his concern now. Now he had the driver to take care of.

  Yet Jared was not unready for the Rider. A slim, silver throwing knife shot out and lodged into Ferreter’s thigh. Ferreter grunted, then growled louder. Pain radiated from the wound. He looked down at the knife and saw a faint glow. When he looked up, Jared was nowhere to be seen. Then arrows hit him: one in each thigh, and another in his right arm. One grazed his left arm. As he moved to look for the shooter, two more arrows sliced his skin. Both fell on his left side: one cutting his cheek, one nearly blinding him as it sailed by, just below his temple.

  Ferreter jumped from the carriage onto his waiting steed and urged his horse out of arrow range. The carriage had finally gotten close enough to the walls of Dauntalus that the sharpest shooters could fire arrows. The Rider cursed under his breath as he saw Jared sit up and steer the carriage closer to safety. The hound limped up then, and Ferreter spat yet another curse and rode off into the night.

  Jared guided the carriage through the tall arch of Dauntalus’ Northern Gate. Two armored knights came alongside his team and grabbed hold of the lead horses. They slowed the horses but did not stop them. While the one on the right guided the team down the road, the knight on the left looked up at Jared.

  “State your business and explain the circumstances of your entrance.” The knight’s tone was firm and commanding, and Jared had enough experience with the gate guards to know that there were more than these two watching him.

  “I have wounded,” Jared said quickly. “She’s pregnant and fighting goblin poison. I don’t know how, but she is. I intend to head for the Citadel Proper and the Royal Healers.”

  “A tall order for somebody who hasn’t identified himself,” the first knight responded.

  “His name is Jared Lostson,” the other knight said. Both Jared and the other knight looked over to him. The second knight pulled up his faceplate. In the city’s lamp light, Jared could just make out his half-brother’s face.

  “Unwin,” Jared said with surprise. “When did they make you a knight?”

  Unwin looked at Jared with deep lines of sorrow. “Last full moon; my mother died and I called in one of my favors. I only have one left; how about you?”

  Jared mirrored his half-brother’s sadness. “I’m sorry to hear that news.” He sighed heavily. “This trip to the healers will no doubt use up my last favor.”

  “Is she yours?” Unwin asked, indicating the carriage and the wounded woman within.

  Jared shook
his head and answered, “No.”

  “I hope she’s worth it,” Unwin responded.

  Jared looked behind him at the carriage. “I think she just might be.”

  Without another word, Unwin signaled to the other knight and they led the carriage on through the streets of Dauntalus. Jared took the opportunity to turn in his seat and open a small sliding door at the rear of it. The hatch opened to the interior of the carriage, allowing Jared to look in on the passengers.

  “She’s still with us, but getting hotter,” Alawnwee said without prompting.

  “We’re in the city and we’ll have help soon, the best help.”

  Alawnwee nodded wearily and Jared turned back around.

  *

  The healers were already waiting for the carriage to arrive and took Rebekah from it as soon as it stopped. Stable hands came running from the other side of the courtyard and started tending to Jared’s team. Alawnwee worked with the healers to carry Rebekah into the building. She was explaining Rebekah’s situation as they walked. Jared followed without invitation, and Unwin walked after him. As they entered the building, Unwin signaled a page, whispered a brief message to him, and sent him running.

  Both Jared and Unwin were prevented from entering the room into which they took Rebekah. No one saw the Fox limping in alongside its charge. Unwin took his helmet off and gave his half-brother a moment to collect his thoughts before he began to talk to him.

  “Tell me the whole story so I can file my report.”

  Jared told of the summons he received to drive the carriage to Haven and the warnings it held that the cargo would be valuable. He then went on to explain the battle as best he could. As his tale continued, Unwin stopped looking at his half-brother and stared at the closed door in front of them. When Jared finished, Unwin shook his head.

  “You made the right choice,” he said. “I just wish we knew why this woman was important.”

  Before they could begin to speculate, a door off to the side opened and the page Unwin had talked to was standing there.

  “He waits within,” the boy said before walking past them.

  Unwin motioned for Jared to follow, and they both entered the room the page had just left. Standing by the window was a tall, regal-looking elf, wearing a fine silk robe. He turned, and both brothers went down on one knee.

  “Your Majesty,” they both intoned.

  “Rise,” Insur, the High King of the Crossroads said.

  Both young men rose and stood, with hands folded in front of them.

  Jared was a mixed blood, as Rebekah had suspected. He shared Coterie, elf, and human blood. His russet red skin and subtle Coterie features came from his mother’s side of the family, while his elf heritage came from his father. Unwin too was a half breed, but Jared was not certain of the mix. Unwin’s yellow eyes and sharp senses spoke of a link to the anthope, though members of that species were hard to identify based on uniform traits. Mostly Unwin favored his sire’s race, the elves.

  Standing side by side as they were, it was easy to see the familial resemblance: the shape of their eyes, the definition of their chins, posture, and presence. It was also easy to see how closely they resembled King Insur, their illegitimate father.

  “I was about to retire to my chambers for the night,” Insur said levelly. “Are you both calling in your final favors?”

  Jared stepped forward, “Your majesty, I am the one that would ask my final boon. Unwin summoned you for me as I was not thinking clearly, due to my recent day’s work. It is for that work that I am compelled to seek your favor one last time.”

  The ruler of Dauntalus looked over to Unwin and said, “I take it you were on duty tonight?”

  “Yes, your majesty,” replied the knight.

  Insur waved his hand dismissively. “Then return to your post.”

  Unwin bowed and exited. Jared watched his half-brother’s retreat before he turned his attentions back to their father.

  “Tell me what brings me here this night.”

  For the second time that night Jared detailed the day’s battle. The high king listened unemotionally until the end. When finally Jared finished, Insur spoke again.

  “Is this woman still alive?”

  Jared nodded, “As far as I know. She was when the healers brought her into the other room.”

  “Let us go to see if that is still the case. I would hate for you to waste your last favor.”

  Without knocking, the king of the Central Kingdom entered the room where the healers were stabilizing Rebekah. The healers, save Alawnwee, looked up with scolding looks upon their faces. However, they quickly checked their expressions when they recognized the king. As they went back to work, Insur spoke up.

  “How is she?”

  Without looking up the elder healer, a weald, answered. “She has a high fever and we can’t get her to waken. The poison is in her system, yet it has not killed her. We’ve administered an antitoxin, though we couldn’t use the most potent due to her pregnancy. I’ve got my daughter mixing up a poultice to place on the entry point and suck out what poison it can. I’ll also start a fluid drip to put nourishment and further subtle medicines into her body.”

  “Your work as always is thorough, Doctor Elam,” the king said. “What is the likelihood that she’ll live?”

  Dr. Elam looked up; his purple eyes were full of wonder. “Your majesty, it is a miracle that she is not already dead. Goblin poison is nothing to trifle with, and this woman has somehow been fighting it for several hours. I would not like to hazard a guess, my lord.”

  The king did not respond. Instead he studied Rebekah. She was fair, and Insur could see the grace she would have conveyed were she not so battered and ill. He wondered about her and could not completely dismiss the notion of sending her away and leaving her to her fate. Nevertheless, some sense of charity stirred within him.

  Alawnwee broke the silence of the moment as she began talking to Dr. Elam. “The baby is stable. It has an elevated heart rate, but otherwise it seems fine. I’d like to take some birth fluid from the womb in order to see if the poison has invaded the baby’s system.”

  Dr. Elam looked at Alawnwee thoughtfully for a moment before answering. “That procedure can be dangerous to both mother and child, though I suppose we have to know if the child is affected or not. Have you received training for such a procedure?”

  Alawnwee shook her head. “I’ve only assisted in one once. I was coming to the Northern Temple to practice more in all midwife healing arts.”

  “I’m sure Dr. Elam can train you for now, young lady.” Everyone turned to face the king once more. He continued to speak, enjoying the shocked looks upon their faces. “Dr. Elam and his staff are the very best in the Crossroads and possibly beyond.” The king then indicated Rebekah. “This woman is to be given the best care while she lives. Hopefully that will be longer than this night. This woman and hers are under protection of the High King’s Crown. Make every effort to save her and the child.”

  Dr. Elam nodded and began talking with the other healers. King Insur motioned for Jared to follow him and they left the room. The two walked down the hall in silence for a few moments, then the king stopped the young half-blood.

  “Is all of this to your satisfaction?”

  “More than I could have hoped for, your majesty.”

  “Very well; I will accord her guest quarters in the Citadel Proper when the healers are ready to move her. She will recover in comfort, and the baby will be taken care of, as well. Our time is now past and you have no more claim on me. You may carry my blood, but what is mine is not to be yours. I will allow you visitations with this lady if she wishes it. However, I do not wish to hear of you seeking me out anymore.”

  Jared bowed deeply and held it for a long time. When he finally spoke it was quiet and formal. “Your majesty has granted me much, and I accept all that you have bestowed upon me. I shall not harbor any claim on you or what is yours for so long as I live.”

  The ki
ng lifted Jared out of the bow by gently pulling up on his chin. Insur held the young man’s face for a few more moments before he let go.

  “One last thing. Prince Jall has grown into a skilled swordsman and has his mother’s temper. Never let it be known that you are mine, or he may end you. He guards his inheritance jealously, so beware.”

  “Yes, your highness; thank you.”

  The king turned without another word and disappeared into the shadows of the hall. Jared had no doubt there was a hidden passage around here. No one save the king and the Magi, Verger Rex, knew all the ins and outs of the Citadel Proper and all the buildings attached to it. Jared rubbed his chin where the king had touched him. He turned and left, still wondering how to feel about his father.

  Chapter 18

  Monday does not exist in the Crossroads. The Rest Day is the last day of the week, followed by First Day (or Light Day, or Spoken Day, or Day of the Word, depending on the race or language used). Most of the children weren’t thinking of this fact. They weren’t thinking about much at all, except about how to get past the three Coterie brothers and Yero.

  David and the other four adults woke all the children early. Once they were fed, their father took the youngest (Ruth, Hannah, Jeremiah, Mary, and Dinah) and began running them through a simple training course used by the youngest pages who aspire to become knights. The six oldest, however, were trapped in a courtyard with First Thunder, Rock, Fleet of Foot, and Yero guarding the exits. Sturdy wooden swords, staffs, and shields were the only weapons any of them had. They had been told that, to continue any other training, they had to get past one of the four.

  The oldest children had been at this task for hours, with no sign of any of the four men weakening. They were in a sweaty huddle in the center of the court, panting hard as they talked.