01 - The Tainted Sword

by D. J. Heinrich - (ebook by Undead)

  The old woman’s eyes glazed over. She spoke a moment later, her voice low and deep. “You meet your doom, Fain Flinn, the day you join Verdilith in battle. If your friends are with you, they will share your fate.” Karleah’s tiny eyes focused again on Flinn.

  The warrior rubbed a callus on his left hand. “Your prophecies of doom interest me little, old woman,” he said, his voice deliberately distant. “If I must fight the wyrm, I must fight it.”

  “Yes, but must your comrades?” she rejoined.

  Flinn knew the answer to that question. He couldn’t bear to see Johauna die because of him, but neither could he bear to live without her. Not just yet, he thought, then closed his mind to the subject. Flinn considered what other questions he would ask the witch. He opened his mouth, intending to ask whether the slaying of Verdilith would restore Wyrmblight. Somehow the words, “What will happen if I don’t seek Verdilith?” came out instead. Flinn hadn’t even been aware of the thought, and he was ashamed he had voiced it.

  The old woman smiled gently at him. “You know the answer to that question as well as I, Fain Flinn. The question is moot because you will hunt the dragon.” She shrugged.

  Flinn returned her look, and after a while his lips grew rueful. Karleah Kunzay was right. He could no longer live a life without honor, without following the Quadrivial. Slaying Verdilith and avenging both Bywater and himself would ensure that he attained all the points of the Quadrivial.

  His thoughts took a different turn. For Jo’s sake, he could live without following his knightly code of ethics. They could build another cabin—a larger one. They could forget about vows of honor and live a blissful life, cut off from the troubled world. A blissful life? he thought. I am a fool. A fool and a coward. I cannot turn back from the path now. I cannot betray Johauna’s faith and belief in me. I must slay Verdilith.

  Karleah Kunzay coughed once, discreetly, to draw his attention. “I think it’s time, Flinn, for you to use the abelaat’s crystals,” the old woman’s voice was sharp and high-pitched. Her thin hand trembled before she rested it on her staff.

  Flinn stared at her. “For what purpose?” His voice was singularly gruff, and he fixed his gaze on the wizardess.

  “To see what you are to face. It’s time you take a look at your enemy.”

  “The dragon will see us as well, Karleah,” Flinn argued. “And I won’t put you in jeopardy for an action of mine, not as I did the town of Bywater.” He shook his head.

  The crone held up a hand, halting Flinn’s refusal. “The wyrm won’t see us, for this valley is protected well from such as he. But we will see what he is planning, and thus you will be forewarned.” Karleah brought out a copper brazier and filled it with small embers from the hearth’s fire. When the brazier was ready, she asked Flinn for one of the abelaat’s stones. She looked at it closely.

  “Hastily made. I’d say they won’t be good for much. But let’s see what we’ll find out with this one. Hopefully we’ll learn enough so we don’t have to use another.” She placed the crystal in the brazier, and both she and Flinn peered into the basin. “Concentrate on the dragon, but don’t call out his name. We can talk because the dragon won’t be able to see or hear us through my wards unless we say his name.” After a pause, Karleah said, “It’s starting.”

  The old wizardess drew some powdered quartz from a pouch and sprinkled it over the burning embers, taking care not to scatter any on the crystal itself. “I’ve enlarged the crystal so we won’t have to peer so closely into it. Ahhh, here we are.”

  Flinn looked at the crystal, which Karleah’s magicks had enlarged ten times. As before, he caught the sensation of movement first. Then the images shimmered and coalesced into a coherent vision.

  Flinn gave one anguished cry, “No!” and jumped to his feet, knocking over the bench behind him. The warrior leaped across the floor and out the door.

  * * *

  Jo sat close to the fire, her front too hot and her back too cold, despite the fur wrapped around her shoulders. “I wish you had let us camp in the valley, Braddoc, or at least next to the woods,” she said petulantly as the wind howled through their camp again. The dwarf had insisted on camping at the rim of the valley in a stony, barren plain. Although the snow lay shallow on the ground, the wind whistled endlessly and chilled Jo to the bone.

  “I told you before, I want to stay as far as possible from that woman, her trees, and her vines!” Braddoc snapped. “At least out here in the open she can’t hurt us.”

  The young woman was too distracted to keep up the argument. Instead, she listlessly stabbed the fire’s embers with a stick. Braddoc sat at her side, drinking a cup of mead. Dayin had returned a while ago, eaten his meal, and was already asleep inside the tent Braddoc had supplied for Jo and Dayin to share. Flinn and the dwarf shared the other hastily erected tent.

  “What do you suppose is going on down there?” Jo asked for the fourth time that evening.

  “Same thing as I told you last time,” Braddoc said tersely. “Relax, Johauna. Flinn is with a friend—at least I think she’s supposed to be a friend—and he’ll return as soon as possible.” He sipped his drink and hummed a little beneath his breath. Jo usually found the bass rumble pleasant, but tonight she found it irritating.

  “It’s just that tomorrow we head out for the Castle of the Three Suns,” she said. “What if Flinn doesn’t return? What if the witch does something to him?”

  “I see it now,” the dwarf smiled, though not unkindly. “You’re not so much concerned about Flinn as you are about reaching the castle tomorrow. Aren’t you?”

  Jo rubbed one of her hands. She broke the stick and threw the pieces on the fire. “You’re right, Braddoc. I’m worried about nothing. Flinn is with a friend, and they’re just talking about old times or whatever. He’ll be back soon and tomorrow we’ll—” Jo choked on her words, her flesh suddenly crawling. She could feel the hair on her neck stand on end. She looked at Braddoc, who glanced back at her curiously. Then very slowly, very carefully, Braddoc’s eyes shifted to the darkness behind Jo, and his eyes went wide.

  The would-be squire touched the tail at her side and blinked fifteen paces away. Braddoc rolled aside, but he wasn’t quick enough. The space beside the campfire erupted into a flurry of dragon limbs and wings and teeth as Verdilith leaped from the shadows just beyond the fire’s flames. Giant jaws snapped where Jo had been only a moment before, but she was now beyond the dragon’s reach. A massive and scaly talon fastened around Braddoc, and the claws began to tighten. Struggling within the beast’s grip, Braddoc worked his battle-axe loose and ruthlessly hacked away at the claws.

  The dragon stretched his neck toward Jo again, and this time he opened wide his jaws and breathed. But the young woman used the blink dog’s tail again, and she found herself near the dragon’s rear haunches. Immediately she pulled her sword out of its scabbard and began attacking. The tough, leathery scales seemed impervious to her blade, but she continued to attack anyway. She would draw blood. She would. Verdilith turned his head away from Braddoc, whom he had been about to bite, to look at Jo.

  “Hah!” she shouted defiantly. “Let go of my friend, and we won’t hurt you!” To back up her threat, she drew her sword high overhead. If bravado worked so well for Flinn the Mighty, perhaps it would work for her, she thought.

  Noise rumbled in the dragon’s throat, but Jo couldn’t tell whether the beast was laughing or roaring. Then something crashed into her back and she was thrown to the ground. Somehow, despite the pain, she managed to hang onto her sword and roll over. The dragon’s long, supple tail was waving above her.

  Jo heard Braddoc cry out. The dwarf swung his axe wildly as the dragon’s giant maw descended on him. Verdilith ignored the blade and engulfed the dwarf. Jo rose shakily to her knees and then to her feet. Verdilith’s mouth opened slightly and Jo glimpsed Braddoc, hacking at the teeth with his axe. She stumbled forward with her sword straight ahead, like a lance, and stabbed the dragon. The blade tip jabbed
between the emerald scales and sunk shallowly into the creature’s haunch. Jo pulled the blade forth to stab again.

  A sudden burst of color and light appeared in front of the dragon’s face. Surprised, Verdilith dropped Braddoc. The dwarf jumped out of the way, although he groaned after the twelve-foot fall. As the spinning sparks whirled before the dragon, Braddoc gestured for Jo and Dayin to come to him. He gripped the boy’s shoulder briefly in mute gratitude for his timely spellcasting.

  “Do you think we should run?” Jo asked as she arrived.

  The dwarf shook his head. “Our only chance is to make a stand and hope Flinn’s on his way.”

  The colorful sparks faded away, and in their place doves and rose petals fluttered on the wind. Blinking, the dragon turned toward Jo, Braddoc, and Dayin. Again came that low rumble Jo now knew was the dragon’s laugh. She trembled in fear, certain she was about to die, but she remembered Flinn’s words about facing danger even when afraid. She shifted her sword a breadth higher. She couldn’t let Flinn down.

  A shining burst of light raced toward them along the rim of the valley. The streak came closer. It was Fain Flinn, bathed in such a white, radiant light that he was both beautiful and terrible to behold. He held Wyrmblight high over his head and prepared to charge.

  “Remember the prophecy, wyrm!” heckled a crone’s voice in the darkness. The words were repeated over and over again, in waves that echoed out from the valley. Jo felt the earth beneath her feet begin to slither toward the dragon. The vail vines crept through the snow and onto the barren ground of the camp. The leaves rustled and took up the chant where the echoes left off.

  Flinn halted before the dragon, his sword arced back in a formal invitation to battle. He was still bathed in an eerie, white glow that made him seem twice as tall as normal.

  “What say you, Verdilith?” Flinn’s voice rang out, deep and penetrating, shaking the ground. Jo felt something akin to awe strike her at the ominous sound. The warrior advanced two steps.

  A rumble started in the dragon’s throat, and this time it emerged as a full-fledged laugh. “I say that now is not the time for us to meet, Flinn the Fool,” Verdilith said in heavy, dragon-accented common. “And as they say, tomorrow is a better day to die!” Verdilith launched himself into the air. Three heavy flaps of his wings saw the dragon aloft and out of sight in the night sky. The blasts of air from the gigantic wings buffeted everyone but Flinn to the cold, stony ground. The warrior staggered backward from the wingbeats, but he remained standing.

  Jo and the others ran to Flinn when the dragon was gone. The odd, scintillating light around him was fading. He looked tired and strained, and Jo wondered what spells had been cast upon him. Karleah Kunzay came out of the shadows and joined the group at the campfire.

  “What did Verdilith mean about tomorrow being a better day to die?” Jo asked anxiously.

  Flinn put his arm around her shoulders and shook his head. “I don’t know, Jo, but your guess is as good as mine.” He looked at Jo, then at Bradoc and Dayin and finally Karleah.

  “Tomorrow we find out.” Flinn’s lips tightened, and his expression grew grim.

  Chapter XIV

  Flinn pulled Ariac to a halt and dismounted. The warrior stroked the griffon’s neck, nervously plucking out a few stray feathers. Beside him, Jo, Braddoc, Dayin, and Karleah halted their beasts and dismounted, too. Jo strode through the snow to stand beside Flinn, not saying a word. There, on a promontory that overlooked the Penhaligon valley, stood the Castle of the Three Suns. Its limestone walls glittered whitely in the midmorning sun, and the clay tile roof glowed with red splendor. Flinn’s eyes tightened to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. It has been so long, he thought, so long.

  The castle itself was diamond-shaped, the main approach and angle towers comprising the points. Four other towers supported the outer walls, which presented a formidable barricade to the world. These eight outer structures stood four stories high, and a single tower rose twice that height from the center of the castle. The tall structure was the keep, or donjon as some called it in the old tongue.

  The castle of the Penhaligons had no moat; the sheer and rocky slopes around it made assaults nearly impossible. The main thoroughfare leading to the castle was a narrow, winding road; nothing larger than two merchant wagons could pass side by side. Approaching the castle from any other direction involved climbing the steep hill on which the castle stood.

  An easy trail led from the Wulfholdes down to the curving castle road. In little more than two hours, Flinn would confront his past and regain the people’s faith in him, as well as his faith in himself. He turned to face the others. “Listen to me,” he began. “This is something I must do by myself.”

  His dark eyes studied each of their faces.

  “If you think you’re going alone, forget it. We want to go with you,” Johauna said clearly. She gestured at the wizardess, then crossed her arms. “Karleah and Dayin didn’t come along for the ride. They came because they want to see you be rightfully reinstated as a knight. We’re coming with you; we’ve come too far to turn back.” Her brows knitted stubbornly.

  Briefly Flinn wondered why these people should care about him, but he was grateful nonetheless. It had been so long since he’d had friends, true friends. “If you insist. I would be… pleased to have you there,” Flinn said steadily and then smiled.

  Braddoc spoke up. “What else would we do? Besides, what if Verdilith has plans for you? What would you do j without us?”

  “At the castle?” Flinn was incredulous. “The Castle of the Three Suns is powerful and well armed. Verdilith wouldn’t stand a chance attacking there. The castle’s inhabitants are also renowned for their purity of heart. No one there would ever have dealings with a beast like Verdilith.” Flinn was affronted at the very idea. “I think the dragon was trying to frighten us with his warning. I think he would have attacked us by now if he’d had plans to do so.”

  Braddoc jerked his thumb toward the castle and said gruffly, “It’s been seven years since you were there, Flinn. You don’t know what’s happened since you’ve left, and you have no idea whether the people are still ‘pure of heart.’ After all, Brisbois is still there, isn’t he?” The dwarf’s hp curled in a sneer.

  Flinn looked away from the dwarf and then back. “One bad apple doesn’t always spoil the rest in the barrel, particularly if it’s removed. That’s what I intend to do with Brisbois.” Flinn’s voice grew cold. “As to Verdilith, if he fulfills his threat to attack today, he’ll do so on the road to the castle—out in the open. If Verdilith is down there waiting for me… yes, I’ll need your help.” Flinn thought of Karleah’s prophecy. He knew he was risking his friends’ lives by taking them with him, but some instinct told him now was not the time of Verdilith’s choosing. His instincts had always been true in the past, and he hoped they would be again.

  Jo uncrossed her arms and said, “Then let’s get this over with! Enough said.” She grabbed the reins to Carsig, mounted the gelding, and smiled down at Flinn.

  The warrior cocked an eyebrow. “Remember the protocol I taught you, Jo,” he said dryly. “Once we get to the road, ride to the left and behind me by two lengths—no more, no less. And when we go inside, you follow to the left and behind at four paces.” Jo nodded coolly, one hand on the pommel of her sword.

  Flinn mounted Ariac and called to Braddoc, Dayin, and Karleah, who was riding Fernlover, “The rest of you should follow a little way back. If Verdilith does attack, we don’t want to be lumped all together. If you’re behind me, that’ll give you a chance to rush to my defense.” Flinn smiled his lopsided grin.

  The dwarf fixed the tall warrior with his good eye and said, “We’ll watch your back.” Karleah cackled.

  Flinn continued, “Once we’re safely inside the castle, you three are on your own. There’s plenty to see—or you can come to the great hall, which is where Jo and I will be. Today is open court—they hold it the same day of every month—and I will h
ave my chance to speak to Baroness Arteris and the council. Hopefully they will listen to me. If not—” Flinn shrugged “—it would be good to have you on hand.” He smiled reassuringly and turned back to face the valley.

  Without further ado, the warrior guided Ariac down the path toward the castle road, and the others fell in behind him. The sun shone warmly on the softening snow, and the wind had died down. “Spring’s on her way,” Flinn murmured to himself. Ariac appeared to feel the same enthusiasm, for he picked up his claws and nearly pranced down the path. Carsig eagerly kept pace, shaking his head and arching his neck in response to Ariac. Jo moved beside Flinn.

  “Carsig’s a delight to ride. I don’t think I’ve ever ridden a finer animal,” Jo said easily. She flashed Flinn a smile, and Flinn suddenly saw that she was beautiful. Without volition, he smiled in return.

  They fell into companionable silence for the rest of the short journey down the hill’s path. Before long, they could see the winding road leading to the castle. The rumble and clang of a merchant caravan rose in the still air. As Flinn and the others approached the crossroads, the two wagons passed by, heading toward the castle. The noise was coming from the metal pans hanging along the wagons’ sides. Other bits of metalwork hung from the wagon: harness rings, axeheads, chisels, and tools.

  No one else was in sight, and Flinn held up his hand to Jo and the others to halt. “We’ll wait here until they’re a little farther up the road. The wagons should be safely to the castle by then, in case the dragon attacks us out here. Remember your protocol, Jo. If anyone from the castle happens to be watching you, proper protocol will commend you to them.”

  Johauna was looking at him with something akin to compassion. “Are you afraid, Flinn?” she asked softly.

  He turned his eyes to the road and said thickly, “Afraid? Of course I’m afraid.” The aging warrior urged Ariac into a gentle walk onto the road, his thoughts turning dark and somber.