The Sword

by Bryan M. Litfin

  Ana rose to her feet, saying nothing, staring at the men with an accusing look in her eye. She could taste blood where her lip was split. One by one, the men quit laughing, until every eye in the boat was upon her.

  With as much dignity as she could muster, Ana stood straight, with her shoulders back and her chin lifted. Deliberately, she spat her half-chewed bite of bread onto the floorboards. Then she seated herself in the bow and turned her back on the seven silent men.

  The burnt trees stood there, mocking him.

  As Teo rounded the great bend in the Farm River, all the memories came flooding back. He looked up at the bluff to his left, where he had been attacked by the bear. He had fallen to the ground that day, expecting to be mauled—until, at the last possible moment, arrows came flying out of nowhere. Teo remembered his surprise at seeing a young woman standing there with a bow in her hand. She was so beautiful.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” he asked himself aloud. Teo shook the thought from his head. Remember, you’re doing this because you owe it to Anastasia—and her parents. Don’t let affection start clouding your thoughts, Teo!

  The burnt trees on the right continued to mock him in silence. The day he had set them afire with flaming arrows, he was the victor. The outsiders were thwarted. But it was only a temporary win. Now, just a few months later, the outsiders had what they wanted—Anastasia was in their filthy hands. What were they doing to her right now? Teo grunted at the thought, straining to chase it from his mind. It was too horrible to contemplate.

  Ferocious anger welled up inside him, and he began to paddle like a man gone insane. Stroke after stroke, he dug in hard, attacking the river as if it, rather than the men who traveled it many leagues ahead, were his enemy. Sweat dripped from his forehead. Even when dusk began to fall, Teo didn’t let up. He maintained his swift and angry pace for a long time, until his arms ached with the exertion and his lungs cried for a break.

  When the moon rose round and full, Teo felt he had experienced a divine blessing. If the light held, he could continue paddling. Maybe the gods aren’t all bad. Perhaps I should give them one last chance. “Gods of Chiveis,” he prayed, “make the weather favorable to me.”

  But the moonlight didn’t last. Soon tendrils of mist began to curl from the water. Before long, a fog had settled on the river. Teo could continue no farther.

  He ran the canoe onto a little beach. Wrapping himself in his cloak, he tumbled into a dry place under the roots of a fallen tree.

  “I’m finished with religion,” Teo declared to the darkness. “From now on I rely only on myself!” He fell into a fitful sleep, full of horrible dreams, yet none as nightmarish as the fears for Ana’s safety that plagued him by day.

  Having wept all they could, Stratetix and Helena lay side by side on their bed. The light of a full moon shone through the window. Helena noticed how bright it made the bedchamber. A thought occurred to her. “That moon—” she began.

  “I know. I’ve thought of it too. It’s shining on our little girl somewhere out there tonight.”

  “Unless . . .” Helena sighed and let that unthinkable thought drop away.

  For a long time, neither said a word. Stratetix broke the silence. “Captain Teofil is strong and brave. He’ll find her and bring her back to us.”

  “He can do it if anyone can. There are few like him in Chiveis. But, oh, the Beyond is so vast. Can one man succeed in such a task?”

  “Perhaps we should pray to the gods.”

  Helena knew her husband wasn’t highly religious. He had a spiritual side, yet the state cults had never held much appeal for him. She considered her reply to his suggestion. Wisdom was needed.

  “My husband, to which god should we pray?”

  “To Astrebril,” Stratetix answered. “He’s the most powerful.”

  “I think not.”

  Stratetix sat up on one elbow. He leaned closer to Helena, and she felt comforted by his warm presence and familiar smell. This was a man she trusted completely. He took care of her, and his decisions were prudent. Nevertheless, she was prepared to shake up his thinking if she must.

  “Why do you say that?” he asked.

  “Because I can no longer serve the gods of Chiveis. They don’t love us. Obviously they don’t love Ana. They abandoned her to the Beyond! They don’t really want to know us or to be known. All they want is the obedience of slaves. Empty rituals. They’re wicked, Stratetix—wicked! All of them. And most of all, the name you just mentioned.”

  Stratetix sucked in his breath. “Who then can we serve?”

  Helena collected her courage—the courage to say aloud what she already knew in her heart. “There must be another,” she said at last. “There has to be! He’s lost in our annals perhaps. But he must be out there somewhere. Perhaps the Ancients knew of him. I don’t know. But there’s one thing I’m certain of.”

  Stratetix glanced at his wife, meeting her eyes. “What?”

  “He’s good.”

  Stratetix rolled back onto his pillow with a deep sigh. Tears came to him again, and he pounded his fist on the bed, venting his helplessness and fear. Helena took his other hand in hers. With a choking voice, Stratetix groaned in prayer. “Good God, if you’re there and you are truly good, then look upon a father’s suffering. Look upon a virgin daughter tonight! Evil men have her, and I can do nothing. Don’t let them hurt her! Oh please, Good God, have mercy! Bring my Ana back to me!” His words dissolved into weeping. Helena was crying too, for the emotion of the moment had overcome her.

  Good God, Helena asked in her heart, would you come to us?

  With a few twigs and the aid of a Vulkain stick, Teo got a tiny fire going. He was on the river before dawn with a mug of chicory coffee to take the edge off the chill. Strangely, he felt guilty about it. Surely Anastasia had no such comfort this morning; why should he? Teo reminded himself he would need all his strength in the coming days.

  The river widened into a narrow lake, then closed down again. The banks were wooded and monotonous, giving Teo a feeling of isolation in the hushed emptiness of the Beyond. Around noon, the river entered a town of the Ancients. Teo could see the ruins of their haunted buildings protruding from the trees. No doubt there was steel to be found in the forest near here, but he had no time to scavenge.

  At a sandy spot along the riverbank, the outsiders had beached their boat for the night. From the size of the imprint left by the keel, Teo estimated the boat had six or eight oars. He circled the place, looking for tracks. There were a few boot marks from the men and the remains of a campfire, but he couldn’t find a print from Ana’s shoe. Teo experienced a moment of doubt. How could he possibly find her in such vastness?

  He cast a wider circle around the campsite. Something in the trees caught his eye—a steel carriage of the Ancients. Though it was rusted and decayed, Teo knew it had once been a sleek, self-propelled vehicle. Many such carriages had been discovered in the early days of Chiveis, but enterprising scavengers had long since dismantled them for their precious scrap metal. For that reason, Teo had never actually seen one, though he had read about these ancient conveyances that didn’t have to be pulled by a horse. “How did a people so clever manage to kill themselves off?” he wondered aloud.

  Teo peered inside the carriage’s decrepit framework. The pilot’s wheel was embossed with an emblem—a circle divided into white and blue quarters. Three ancient letters could still be read: B, M, and W.

  A slight depression in the ground and the matted grass indicated someone had taken shelter next to the vehicle. Bending to examine the place, Teo glimpsed a piece of scarlet fabric tied to the carriage’s frame. His heart skipped a beat. Ana’s gown! He remembered how regal and demure she had looked in that gown as she walked to the stage at the poetry recital. She had also worn the dress to the tournament and then to the Pon-Revel. She wore it even now, as wicked sinners abused her, carrying her away from everything she knew and loved. And yet she was smart enough to leave a
marker for anyone who might be trailing her. Teo admired the woman’s spirit.

  With renewed energy, he ran to his canoe and shoved off. The river became straight as he left the town behind, heading due west. Soon it emptied into an inland sea similar to the two lakes of Chiveis. Where the river met the sea, the Ancients had dammed it, causing the water to flow through a building of some kind. Today the dam was in disrepair, so water gushed through it and over it. The uneven water levels and the hazardous obstruction certainly would prevent large ships from passing. This must be why outsiders had never approached Chiveis in substantial numbers on the Farm River. Only small boats could be portaged between the lake and the river.

  Teo had no trouble carrying his canoe and rucksack down to the lake. Where to go next? The oblong lake stretched away to the northeast and southwest.

  The outsiders made the decision easy when Teo spied their ship on the northeast horizon. Unlike the little boat he had been following, this was a large sailing vessel with a square woolen sail and many oars. Though the ship was still far off, Teo estimated it would carry fifty men. He would have to be stealthy.

  Hugging the shoreline to blend into the background, Teo followed the ship, always keeping it in sight, yet never getting too close. Though it didn’t appear to be hurrying, its natural speed was much faster than his canoe, so Teo had to expend great effort to keep up. The afternoon wore on. As evening approached, the ship turned toward land for the night. Teo hid his canoe in an inlet, then hoisted his pack and circled around to where the outsiders were camped.

  A cooking fire had been lit by the time Teo reached the spot. Several ragged, wild-haired trappers were gathered there, haggling over furs with the outsiders. The crewmen bustled around, loading crates onto the ship. With its shallow draft, the vessel could be drawn close enough to the shore for the men to wade back and forth. The carved prow rose into the night, its fierce, demonic face alive with hatred as the orange glow of the campfire danced on it.

  As Teo scanned the busy scene, he spotted her. Anastasia!

  She sat in the midst of the camp on a log, her hands bound. A bag was over her head, but he could not mistake the red dress. A guard sat next to her, holding a rope tied around her neck. As Teo watched, the guard jerked it roughly, pulling her backward onto a sharp stone. The guard laughed as Ana struggled to sit up.

  An immense surge of anger swept over Teo. For a moment he gripped his sword’s hilt, ready to fly into battle, but he forced himself to stay calm and think things through. Mortal danger was everywhere. Only by the most careful planning would he and Anastasia survive. There was no chance to rescue her in a situation like this. The realization dawned on Teo that he would have to follow his enemies to their destination. Once they had relaxed and let down their guard, he would strike.

  The outsiders’ chieftain was an ugly man with a bushy black beard. Teo knew he was the chieftain not only by his arrogant demeanor but because he had his own goatskin tent set up to the side of the camp. He and another man stood near it, examining a parchment and pointing in different directions. Obviously, the outsiders’ navigator was discussing a map with his chief. Teo desperately wanted to see the map to spy out the lay of the land. When the dinner bell rang, the chieftain pitched the map into his tent and headed toward the fire with a bowl in his hand. Teo decided to seize the opportunity.

  Sneaking up to the tent from the rear, he slipped inside. A bed was covered in furs, and a wooden chest sat in a corner with a knife jabbed into the lid. A wineskin and a lantern hung from the ceiling. The map lay on the bed. Teo stared at it, trying to burn its landmarks into his mind. For a moment he lost awareness of his surroundings as he attempted to memorize the map’s features. Then, with a start, he heard someone approaching.

  Fight? Suicide!

  Hide? Where?

  Teo scrambled.

  The tent flap opened, and the chieftain walked in.

  Teo watched the man’s boots from his hiding place under the bed. He held his breath. The chieftain opened the cork on the wineskin and took a long, gurgling drink. He belched. Then he took something from the chest and left.

  Teo slid from under the bed. The chieftain’s wineskin and knife were gone with him. That was too close, Teo told himself as he reached the shadows of the forest.

  From what he had discerned on the map, the journey to the outsiders’ home would take several days. Teo realized it would be impossible to keep up with the ship once it began to travel in earnest. He needed another plan.

  Late that night, when the camp had quieted down, Teo crept along the beach to the six-oared boat he had been following for two days. It was tied to the stern of the larger ship by a thick hawser. Now that the boat was no longer needed for exploratory forays, it would be towed home. Its oars had been stowed, and it was loaded with cargo. A tight goatskin tarp covered it.

  Teo unfastened a corner of the tarp and slipped into the darkness. He opened a crate and emptied most of its furs into a sack, which he stuffed in a corner. After tying down the tarp from underneath, he hid his pack under some extra rope, then crawled inside the crate and shut it behind him. The long trip to the outsiders’ home would be a trial of endurance in the cramped boat, especially during the day when Teo would have to stay out of sight. Yet surely his level of discomfort would be nothing compared to what Ana was enduring right now.

  “I’ll come to you soon, Anastasia,” he whispered. He only wished she could hear his promise.

  Ana wanted to resist. She had been staying strong, keeping her spirits up, holding onto her fragile dignity. But now, at last, her strength had fled.

  Five days had passed since she was captured—or was it six? In all that time, she had eaten only a few crusts of bread and some moldy cabbage.

  Yet it wasn’t the lack of food or even the harsh mistreatment that finally wore her down. It was the awful realization that she wasn’t going to escape. No one from Chiveis was coming after her. A platoon of guardsmen wouldn’t come riding to her rescue. She would never go home again.

  Earlier that day, Ana had arrived at the outsiders’ settlement, a riverside town whose main hall was perched on an island midstream. Cobblestone bridges reached to the island from both sides of the wide, green river. A cluster of wooden huts lined each shore.

  The black-bearded man—whose name, Ana discovered, was Rothgar—had marched her triumphantly from the docks to the island hall. She was met there by the ladies of the town, who ushered her to a private room, where she was made to bathe. They washed her gown and insisted on applying makeup to her face. Ana trembled at this strange welcome. She hoped it was some bizarre custom among these people. But deep in her heart she feared she knew the reason for their womanly attention.

  Rothgar had come for her then. He took her to a great banquet hall lit by a candle chandelier dangling from the ceiling and a stone fireplace. A rope tied to an iron ring on the mantel raised and lowered the chandelier. In the shadowy corners of the room, hordes of feasting men were already deep into their cups. The only women present were the serving wenches, many of whom were providing much more than food and drink.

  Ana had been led to the king, an obese man with a gold crown around his stringy white hair. He leered at her with a mouth whose teeth had been knocked out in some forgotten battle. The king groped her, then resumed his feasting when Ana recoiled. Rothgar hurled her to the ground.

  Now Ana sat dejected on the floor. It was all too much. The loss of her home, her parents, everything she cherished. She had been treated cruelly at every turn. She knew what awaited her tonight when the king was ready to take his pleasure. Undernourished and emotionally spent, she had come to the end of her strength. Ana felt droplets running down her face. She did not realize for several seconds that they were her own tears.

  A jester entered the room, and a shout went up as all eyes turned toward him. He was dressed in a ridiculous oversized robe, and his face was covered by a grotesque mask. The mask wore a fool’s expression: its bulbous eyes
were crossed, and a pink tongue dangled from its mouth. The men in the hall erupted in cheers.

  The jester hauled Ana to her feet by her armpits. With exaggerated actions, he made sport of her as he enacted a crude and lusty courtship. Pretending to be her suitor, he pawed at her, then grew threatening when she resisted. The men egged him on, beating the tables with their palms. The jester pulled Ana close to his leering mask, holding her as if to dance at an elegant ball, only to trip her when she wasn’t looking. The crowd roared. Even the serving wenches were laughing. At last, finished with his bawdy performance, the jester exited the hall.

  The feast continued with more raucous laughter and crude antics. The men relieved themselves into buckets, not bothering with modesty. Dogs licked vomit from the filthy flagstones. Disgust overwhelmed Ana as she lay crumpled on the floor at the king’s feet.

  After a while, the jester returned to the room and strode toward Ana. A hurrah arose from the men as they toasted him with their flagons.

  More mockery. More cruelty. Will it never end?

  The figure in the grotesque mask lifted Ana from the floor. In a stupor, she stumbled around again while he pretended to dance with her.

  The jester picked up a bucket filled with urine. He moved toward Ana, threatening to douse her with its foul contents.

  Please, no. Not that!

  The jester leaned close to Ana. Then, for the first time, he spoke to her.

  “Anastasia, be ready! It’s Teofil! I’ve come for you.”

  Ana lifted her head. She was too stunned to speak.

  Teofil—here? How?

  In a sudden rush, hope flooded her soul.

  He had come for her!