DAWN OF THE PHOENIX

by A. J. STRICKLER

  It was like one of the stories the old ones told of the Arradar. K’xarr would not understand, he was not Toran and had not lived with the Toran laws of honor.

  He knew K’xarr would think Kian a fool or mad, but Cromwell knew better. He saw what was in the little swordsman’s eyes; he was willing to die for what he thought was the honorable thing.

  Cromwell talked of honor all the time, it’s what the people of Tora lived for, yet he had seen little true honor among the clans. Kian had the kind of courage the old Toran stories talked of. The world was very strange sometimes. He needed to stop thinking on it, his sword was sharp and he travelled with brave men. Things were good.

  “What are you thinking about? I hope it’s about how you and Kian cost us all a lot of coin.” Cromwell looked over. He hadn’t even seen K’xarr ride up beside him.

  “I think we did the right thing,” Cromwell said, holding his head high.

  K’xarr’s mouth opened to speak then he closed it. He shook his head and rode up to the front of the wagon.

  Cromwell started to follow K’xarr to make him understand what he meant, then thought better of it. It would be smarter to let him cool off first.

  Vandarus rode over to where Cromwell trailed behind the wagon. He was grinning again. Cromwell could not think of a time in the last few weeks when the Bandaran wasn’t talking, and he almost always had that aggravating smile on his face.

  “I think you pissed him off, big man.”

  “Aye, it’s not a hard thing to do,” the Toran said.

  “Tell me something, Cromwell, do Torans ever laugh?”

  “Rarely. Tell me something, Vandarus, do Bandarans ever shut up?”

  “Point taken, my friend. I just wanted to say Rufio and I agreed with you and the half-elf about the villagers.”

  “It was Kian’s idea, not mine. I would have watched them burn just like you would have.”

  Vandarus gave the Toran a confounded look. “True enough, my friend, I feel bad about it too. I couldn’t believe the half-breed had the guts.”

  Cromwell gritted his teeth and stopped his horse. “Watch your mouth, Bandaran, there are no half-breeds here.”

  “Sorry, I meant nothing by it. It’s just he is a half-elf and you know... I’ll be off now.”

  Cromwell lowered his brows and did not reply.

  Vandarus turned his horse and rode up to where the healer sat driving the wagon. “Siro, can I ask you a question? Since you’re a healer and a man of knowledge, you may have an answer to something that has been plaguing me.”

  Siro nodded. “Ask. I will answer if I can.”

  “How the hell did you get that ugly?” Siro frowned and spat on the ground, slapping the reins and driving the wagon faster.

  Vandarus laughed so hard he almost fell off his horse.

  Cromwell sighed and rode up ahead to join K’xarr.

  “Where are we heading?”

  “Southeast. We will skirt the mountains and ride into Warmark, see what trouble you and Kian can get us into there.”

  “Damn you, K’xarr, you were there. You saw him limp into that circle of cutthroats, take the captain’s head, and then defy the rest of those bastards to do anything about it. That is something most only hear about, let alone see, and I was not going to be outdone.”

  K’xarr shifted in his saddle. “Not let him outdo you, in what, stupidity? Cromwell, we were just lucky to get away with our lives and we lost all our pay, for what? A bunch of worthless peasants. I don’t like rape or slavery, but you didn’t see me trying to pick a fight with the whole company over it. We have to be smarter than that.”

  “You aided us. Why, if it was so foolish?”

  “You’re my friend, Cromwell, and I suppose that unconscious half-breed back there is too. Listen to me now, we can’t let Kian play hero anymore. We’re mercenaries, we fight for pay. The villagers were not paying, so we should not have been fighting for them.”

  Cromwell banged his fist on his chest. “I know what we are. Kian only stood by his principles and I stood by him.”

  K’xarr stretched back in his saddle, they had been riding a long time already. “Don’t be so naïve and stop getting all worked up. We aren’t knights or heroes from a story, we’re sell-swords and poor ones at that. It’s hard enough to keep a job very long with this accursed blood of ours. Just keep him and his principles in line. Okay?”

  “I will do my best but he is an Arradar, K’xarr, it will be hard.”

  “I don’t even know what the hell that is, Cromwell.”

  “It is a Toran word for someone who will die for a cause, a protector of the weak. In the traders’ tongue, it means defender.”

  K’xarr looked up at the sky. “That’s just what I need.”

  “I bet you’re glad to be out of that wagon,” Vandarus said.

  “It was a long ten days. I know the wagon was slowing us down. Now that I can sit on a horse, we can move along,” Kian said.

  “I don’t know how much speed we picked up without the wagon, Siro and that damn mule aren’t much faster,” Vandarus said, pointing behind them with his thumb to where the healer rode.

  Kian chuckled, he liked Vandarus. He seemed like a good man. The Bandaran always seemed to be in a good mood, unlike his other grim companions.

  K’xarr had brought a horse along for Kian when they left the Birds of Prey, but when they had abandoned the wagon in Warmark, the little healer was stuck riding the small mule that had been pulling it.

  “Hey, Siro, see if you and your gallant steed can move a little quicker,” Vandarus called out.

  “I really hate you, Vandarus, more every day.”

  Kian laughed.

  Vandarus had made sport of the healer since they met. The two had entertained their companions through the long days of riding. Sometimes even Siro had been amused by the Bandaran’s jokes. Kian had been worried about it at first; he thought the men really hated each other. He soon realized that the two were just jesting with each other. The half-elf still had a hard time understanding why people thought ridiculing someone was funny, but he laughed along with them when they insulted each other.

  The ride through Warmark had been uneventful and slow. The bleak land and its people were both unfriendly. The farther south they rode, the more fertile the land became. They crossed the Tyborg River into the rich pasture lands of the Kingdom of Alarusia. Kian thought the countryside was beautiful. Small farms dotted the landscape, and they had even passed a couple of small towns. They had not stopped at any of them, because K’xarr thought it better not to visit anywhere with too many people. He told them it was too easy to get into trouble in a town. K’xarr had looked right at him when he made the statement. The Camiran said that he wanted to keep traveling east and get on the Gold Road. His plan was to follow it south.

  Kian couldn’t wait to get his first look at the famous road, even though he was a little nervous. The Gold Road was heavily traveled. He would have to be careful to try and hide his race as best he could. Most humans were at best indifferent or just rude to his kind, but there were those whose hatred for half-breeds would cause them to do violence over their prejudices and misconceptions. Sometimes he wished he was human and didn’t have to face the world’s scorn. It would make things much easier for him and his new companions.

  They made camp not long after crossing the great Tyborg River. They ate a sparse meal of dried beef and wild onions. The small company all sat around a crackling fire as the sun sank below the horizon.

  “K’xarr told us you’re a trained swordsman, Kian, is that true?” Rufio asked from where he sat, leaning back on his arms.

  Kian nodded. “Yes, that is true.”

  “Don’t take this as an insult, but how did you find a master to train you, being a half-elf and all?”

  Kian gave Rufio a sad grin. “It is a long story.”

  The stocky Dragitan moved around until he seemed comfortable. “I have nothing to do at the moment but listen to a long
story.”

  The others all gathered around, waiting to hear what Kian had to say.

  He had not thought of Elu in a long time. “My first master was elven, his name was Elu Elensar. He was a frequent visitor of my mother’s. He was a very old, even by elven standards. I took a liking to him right off, because sometimes when he was waiting for my mother to take him up to her room, he would tell me stories about knights and dragons and elven heroes from long ago.”

  Rufio sat up. “Your mother was a courtesan?”

  Kian hung his head. “She was.”

  “No shame in that, Kian, I have known many fine whores,” Cromwell said. “There was one that lived in the villages of the Claw Clan that had the biggest…”

  “Cromwell,” K’xarr interrupted.

  “What?” Cromwell hissed.

  “Shut up. Kian, go on with your tale.”

  Cromwell gave K’xarr a dirty look. “My apologies, Kian, go on.”

  Kian took a breath and continued. “I grew very fond of the old man, he was kind to me. Few of my mother’s visitors were. Elu was smitten with my mother, Kia. He came to see her at least twice a week. The old man had asked her to marry him many times. I could tell she was fond of him, but her answer was always no. Once I had asked her why she always turned down Elu’s proposals.” Kian took a deep breath and continued, "She told me she didn’t want to disgrace Elu and was not worthy to be any man’s wife. Her refusals never deterred Elu from trying to win her hand. I think in the beginning, his offer to train me was one of his ploys to get her to agree to the marriage… Anyway, one night as I readied myself for bed, she asked me if I would like to live with Elu for a while. I was very hurt. I thought I had done something wrong and she wanted to send me away or sell me, a fate that happened all too often to the children of Thieves Port. Mother saw I was upset, and she told me Elu would teach me things that she could not, like how to defend myself and how to live with honor.

  “I asked why she could not teach me these things. She said, ‘I’m not an elven warrior and I have no honor left, Son.’”

  Kian paused, remembering the tears in his mother’s eyes that night. It had bothered him a great deal when he found out she felt that way.

  The half-elf went on. “Elu would not take my brother. He said Tavantis could be trained when he was finished with me. He told us he could only handle one student at a time. My mother and I both knew Tavantis was a more resilient boy than I, so she wanted me to be the first to go with Elu and I agreed. I was eight years old.”

  “How old are you now, Kian?” Vandarus asked.

  “I’m fifty-two, I believe.”

  All the men looked at each other. Vandarus seemed the most fascinated by the half-elf’s age. “You look no more than twenty. So it’s true about how long the people of the elven race live?” the blonde man asked.

  “Yes, Elu was over a thousand years old and I would be considered a very young man by anyone elven.”

  Vandarus looked at the half-elf in disbelief.

  “Vandarus, you’re as bad as Cromwell, just let him finish,” K’xarr said.

  Kian nodded his thanks to the Camiran. “Elu had been a Shield for the last ruler of the elves, King Tathar Celebrindal. The Shields were the royal guard for the elven king and his family.

  “From the first time I picked up a sword, I knew it was meant to be in my hand. I listened to everything Elu told me. Over the next few years, I got better and better. Elu always said he was a good teacher but I was a better student. I went and saw my mother almost every day and tried to spend time with Tavantis, but he was seldom home when I was there.

  “When I was twelve years old, Elu went to my mother and told her he had taught me all he could. ‘The student has surpassed the master. The boy has a true talent for the sword, Kia. His training should not end here with me.’ He thought I should go where I could be trained by someone with much greater skill than he possessed. He told us he had a friend that lived in the Blue Dagger Mountains, but it would mean I had to leave Thieves Port for a very long time, perhaps forever. My mother was torn, but she knew if I stayed with her, my life would be wasted and miserable.

  “I was very excited about leaving the city. I would miss my mother and Tavantis terribly, but a chance to leave Thieves Port could not be turned down. Mother agreed to let me go and I vowed I would return.

  “Elu told me I would have to cross the sea and enter the Blue Dagger Mountains. That was where King Tathar Celebrindal’s champion lived, the First Sword of the Elven Nations. Gildor Singollo, he had been the Sunblade to the last elven king. The way Elu had told it, they had been good friends long ago and he had visited this Gildor at his cabin in the mountains before he came to Thieves Port. He also told me that Gildor was the best swordsman he had ever seen. So the old man wrote a letter to his friend and drew a map that would guide me through the mountains to the swordsman’s home.

  “My mother had saved a little coin, and it was just enough to pay for my passage on a ship called the Sea Devil. The captain of the ship told her there were no ports near the mountains, but if she would see fit not to charge him for a night of pleasure, he would make sure that I was put off as close as he could get me to my destination.

  “She agreed. The trip was set. I went and found Elu and told him the news. We talked all night about the trip, the old warrior even told a few stories about the man I was going to meet. The way it sounded, Gildor could have defeated the Reaper and the Red Handed all by himself. I thanked him for all he had taught me, and I reminded him he had agreed to train my brother. I thought in a few years Tavantis could join me in the mountains and we could train with Gildor together.

  “The old man promised to see to my brother and promised to be there on the dock when I left. Elu broke both promises; I found him dead the next day.”

  “What happened?” Rufio asked.

  “We found him in his home face down in a bowl of porridge. My mother said it must have been the old man’s time to go. He was over a thousand years old, after all. We buried him the following day. It had been hard to watch them put him in the ground. Elu had been a good friend to us, he changed my life and I would miss him. Though he was dead, I was determined to go through with what he had arranged for me.”

  Kian took another deep breath.

  “I said all my goodbyes to the women of the Heavenly Hole, and they even had a little party for me. Everyone had tried to be happy, but with Elu’s death so fresh in our minds, it had not been much fun. My mother cried a lot, but she said it was just because she would miss me so very much.

  “My brother was the only one that I had not said my goodbyes to. Tavantis had become hard to find of late. We were both twelve, and Mother had stopped trying to keep us in and he took full advantage of it. So I waited up all night for him to come home. I had been thinking of Elu when Tavantis came in just before dawn. I tried to tell him goodbye, but he would have none of it. I think he was mad because he had lost his chance to train with Elu and I was leaving. He just stared at me for a moment as if he was deliberating about something. I made him promise to take care of Mother while I was gone. He told me that was one thing I wouldn’t have to worry about. Then he walked out the door back into the early morning light. That was the last time I ever saw him.

  “Later that morning, my mother had walked me to the docks when it came time to get on the ship. She told me she would not cry, but she did,” Kian said.

  “She hugged me. I can still remember how her beautiful hair had smelled and how her wet tears felt on my cheek. The thing I remember the most, though, was the last thing she said to me. ‘It’s not who or what you are, Son. It’s how you live.’ I boarded the Sea Devil and sailed east. My mother waving from the dock is my last memory of her.”

  The small fire had burned down, everyone was too involved with the half-elf’s story to have put any more wood on it.

  “What then, Kian, you found this Gildor?” Rufio seemed genuinely interested in the tale.

&nb
sp; “Yes, I found Gildor, but that is another story.”

  Sparks flew up from the dim fire as K’xarr threw two large branches on it.

  “Are you done now, bard, or do you want to sing a song?”

  Kian looked at K’xarr, confused. “I am finished.”

  “Good, I want to get an early start tomorrow. Everyone should try to get some rest.”

  Every one of them was tired from the day’s ride, and they quietly bedded down for the night.

  K’xarr went to check on the horses alone after everyone was settled. Kian and his stupid story, he thought. Mothers, brothers, family, the half-breed was too soft-hearted to be a warrior. K’xarr didn’t think the half-elf would live very long, if he didn’t stop worrying about other people and sulking about his missing family. The story had made K’xarr think of his own family and that was something he never liked to do.

  The sun was shining and he was among friends. Kian chose to not worry about the world and its people today. He eased his black gelding alongside the healer’s mule.

  “Siro, do you think we will stay at an inn tonight?”

  The man didn’t look at Kian. “No, K’xarr sent Rufio and Vandarus a league or two ahead to see the lay of the land. They found little but a few farms and one tiny village. I don’t think any farmer would welcome our little group spending the night in his barn. I doubt if there was an inn that would welcome our business either.”

  Kian kept pace with the healer’s mule. He had to agree with the man. If he were a farmer, he wouldn’t be too happy to see their group riding on to his land.

  “I never thanked you properly for saving my life, Siro. I won’t forget it.”

  “It’s my calling, Son, think nothing of it. Before I left Ardak many years ago, my father said I would never be of use to anyone.”

  Kian looked at the healer curiously. “Why would he say that?”

  “Well, I’m small and have a slight hump in my back and I’m not the most attractive man in the world, if you hadn’t noticed.”