Metal and Magic: A Fantasy Journey

by Steve Windsor

  CHAPTER SIX: First Encounter

  Davydd weaved in and out of swings by Ovar but eventually lost his balance, tripping over a fire wood log. He kicked the log away in anger and looked up to see Ovar’s sword plummeting down towards his heart. Davydd rolled to his left, barely avoiding another fatal blow. He reminded himself that they were using wooden swords, but the skill with which his surrogate father wielded the sword was frightful. Ovar watched Davydd stagger to his feet and put his wooden sword up defensively, every muscle in his body twitching as he anticipated the next attack.

  “Unsheathe your sword before you fight. Calm yourself. Have my words not reached your ears?”

  “Apologies father but your movements are too swift. I can neither predict nor react in time to your attacks.”

  “Swift? Look at me boy!”

  Davydd scanned Ovar’s huge frame and beer gut hanging loosely in front of him. He said nothing.

  “I am a far cry from the man I once was. The warriors you are going to fight will move like lightning compared to what you think you perceive from me. Again!”

  Davydd stood straight and sheathed his wooden sword, as did Ovar.

  “Begin!”

  Davydd and Ovar began to unsheathe their swords. Ovar was the quicker of the two and he launched into another attack. Davydd’s breathing became more frantic and as Ovar approached swiftly with cat like grace. Davydd panicked.

  Draw your sword before you fight.

  Davydd drew his sword with outstretched arms that trembled so violently he almost dropped his sword.

  Calm yourself.

  As Davydd evaded the first forward thrusting attack from Ovar, he breathed in deeply and willed his hands to stop shaking. His grip on the sword relaxed from a frantic death grip to a firm assured grasp. Ovar switched from a forward thrust to a sideways swipe in an instant. Davydd parried the blow with his sword and swung upwards, towards Ovar’s face. Ovar swiftly spun around the attack to Davydd’s right side and swung at him. Davydd dodged by crouching and tumbling forward. He sprang up and blocked another one of Ovar’s attacks, following up with a swinging kick to Ovar’s feet. Ovar jumped over the attack, landing a hard right-handed blow on Davydd’s chest. Davydd fell back first on the ground and as he made to get up, Ovar pointed the tip of his wooden sword at Davydd’s neck.

  “Better.” Ovar said. “But you made three costly mistakes there. You showed your back to me, you executed an unnecessary roll and you surrendered your balance to me.”

  Ovar held out his hand, and helped Davydd up to his feet.

  “We are done training for today.”

  Davydd got up and dusted off the dirt on his clothes. His eyes caught Vannera’s gazing at him and he flashed a smile as he walked over to where she was sitting. She returned his smile. He sat down beside her and for a few seconds took in her beauty. He realized he hadn’t really looked at her again since the day they first woke up in Matilom’s underground layer. He took in her red hair, her glowing skin, her light red lips, and her green eyes. He found himself being blown away all over again. Vannera was talking.

  “...I could train with you if you like.”

  Davydd was brought back down to earth.

  “What? What was that you said?”

  Vannera looked at him and giggled. “Where were you off to in that head of yours?”

  Davydd smiled again. “Somewhere red and green... Now what was that you suggested? You would train me?”

  “Does it sound so absurd?”

  “Oh no... I mean... I didn’t know you were skilled in the art of combat that’s all.”

  “Well I’ll tell you this much.” Vannera said as she leaned towards Davydd.

  “I could put up a much better fight than you did against Ovar.”

  “We should have a demonstration then my master.” Davydd said sarcastically.

  “I’ll get a wooden sword... though I would prefer metal but we wouldn’t want to hurt you now would we?”

  Davydd laughed as she walked to get the sword.

  “You do know I just practiced all morning with the specter of a raging bull.”

  “In that case you should be able to hold your own against a harmless butterfly.”

  Princess Vannera returned with her sword and assumed her stance. Davydd rose to his feet but his eyes roamed down to catch her exposed thighs and feet. As if reading his mind, Princess Vannera spoke.

  “A long dress would be clumsy to fight in now wouldn’t it? Besides it seems my first weapon already dealt its blow.”

  And with that, she attacked, swinging down at his shoulder. Davydd blocked with his sword and counterattacked, with a swing towards her mid-section, which she in turn parried.

  “Remember to keep your balance.” She said as they dueled.

  “You do know how to fight.” Davydd said with mild surprise.

  Princess Vannera suddenly jumped and attacked Davydd with a two hand downward slash. Davydd blocked but the force was surprisingly strong and knocked him down to the ground. He was quickly up to his feet and reassumed his fighting stance.

  “As a matter of fact I do.” She finally replied. “Now let’s try again. Try to keep your balance this time.”

  “You performed a flourish on me. Ovar said never to flourish.”

  “I’m fighting a novice. I can afford to get a bit creative.”

  Princess Vannera attacked once more, but Davydd easily parried and evaded all her attacks. After sidestepping one of her forward stabs, Davydd glided expertly behind her and held his sword to her neck.

  “You were saying?”

  “You should check yourself before you revel in your victory.”

  Davydd looked down and saw her wooden sword pointed towards his abdomen. He hadn’t noticed her switch sword hands, nor had he felt the poke of her sword. He had been so excited about finally besting someone and it cost him. He lost.

  “It is one of my father’s favorite moves.” Vannera said.

  “Your father trained you?”

  Princess Vannera nodded.

  “If our duel was real, would you have paused or would you have slit my throat?” She turned around to face Davydd who was looking at her in shock.

  “My father always told me ‘never hesitate’. You would be wise to heed those words too. If... no, when you do face him, and you will if you wish to take the crown of Angweleth, hesitate and your life will be forfeit.”

  “Have you really chosen sides Vannera?” Davydd asked.

  “What is your meaning?”

  “Well I am the man who might in order to take my place as king and to save Terrianus someday... today, tomorrow, three moons from now; I could be your father’s killer.”

  “Yes. And if not for you, my father would have been my killer.” She gazed at him and then walked away to drop their training swords. In the distance, watching from the entrance to the inn in which they were staying stood Matilom and Sam.

  “The way he beholds her, I say he fancies her.” Sam said proud of his assessment. Matilom looked at him bemused.

  “A blind man can see that. I am more concerned about his readiness. There will be travails ahead. How will he respond to them?”

  “You do not believe in him?” Sam asked. He wore a look of surprise.

  “Do you?” Matilom asked in response.

  “I believe I was a bit more of a handful when you found me, master.” Sam said.

  “You still are a handful young one.” Responded Matilom as he tapped Sam’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “But you have come a long way.”

  Sam smiled mischievously.

  “I can imagine his confusion. Give him time to be the king we need.”

  This time, it was Matilom’s turn to be surprised.

  “Wise words from you Sam. Who would have thought?”

  “We all have something more inside us. Sometimes it just takes a moment to realize that. He will soon enough. We leave tonight master?”

  “Yes. Ergol the town leader has b
een helpful in providing us with manpower and supplies for our journey. I shall be going to see him now.”

  “I suppose I should go relieve Max. He has been on watch all morning. See you at the feast tonight.”

  And with that, Sam was gone in an instant.

  The dancers, all of whom where women, gyrated and swayed their hips to the beats of the drums and flutes as they played festival sounding tunes. And indeed it was a festival, celebrating the harvest season in Angweleth, and more specifically, Wind Haven’s harvest. The flickering flames of the bon fire threw a wash of pulsating lights on the dancers and in its own way, moved to the rhythm of the tunes and drums as well. Many of the men and little children sat and clapped in rhythm, cheering on the dancers. Other girls and boys served food and wine to those seated. Soon, everyone that could join in on the act did and danced with each other. Davydd remained seated and clapping, until Vannera walked up to him and pulled him to his feet.

  “Aren’t you a boring man?” She said chuckling.

  “I was just enjoying watching everyone have a good time.”

  “I’m sure you were. But so should you.”

  “Well thanks for thinking about me too.” Davydd said as he danced awkwardly. Princess Vannera arched her neck backwards and laughed out loud.

  “You don’t do this often do you?”

  “Well...”

  “Well nothing. Follow my lead.”

  And Davydd did. They danced around the fire, the heat emanating from the flames warming them from the cold of the night, accentuating the touch of their bodies against each other. As they stared at each other, Davydd found himself being lost in her green eyes.

  “Feona help me...” he whispered.

  Vannera smiled.

  “And what would the future king of Angweleth need her help for.”

  “More air in my chest. For you have stolen all I have away countless times since I met you.”

  “You surprise me... you certainly have a way with words Davydd Miljorn.”

  Vannera beheld the man she was dancing with, the man who had saved her from the burning carriage and had nursed her back from the dead. He was the same man who had chased her through the forest, putting his life in danger to save her from her fear and callous actions. She caught herself admiring his strong frame and features. What was it about him? Again, in his presence she felt so safe. It felt like the world couldn’t hurt her. No, not while she was with him. It had only been a few days and in the most dire of circumstances, but she could no longer run away from the truth that she loved being around him... with him.

  “Air you said... No Davydd, Feona won’t help you tonight.” She gazed at him sensuously, slowly closing in, her eyes falling from his eyes to his lips. “Let me steal it all away.” And with that, she closed the rest of the distance, planting a passionate kiss on his lips. Davydd felt a surge of warmth flow through him. He wrapped his hands around her as they kissed, dancing to the music, which had slowed to a soft tempo. In that moment in time, for the two of them, the world didn’t exist and nothing else mattered.

  The town of Wind Haven was protected by an immensely tall fence made from large tree trunks cut into logs of wood. A gate had been carved out of the fence, marking the entrance to the town. In this way, it was different from Gor, which was an open town. It was a bit smaller than Gor and lacked a market place. It did however still have small merchant stalls scattered around the town. Wind Haven’s buildings were largely made of wood and had very few houses made of brick. The town had been designed in such a way that the wind was channeled through it, hence the name. A few meters away from the gates of the town, stood Sam. He was dressed in his usual red tunic, black pants, red boots and gloves. His light aqua blue eyes scanned the clear field between the Misty forest and Wind Haven. His eyes shone their color, due to the magical energy flowing through them. Sam was using a spell of sight taught to him by Matilom. He had been keeping watch since early noon, and it was time for Max to take over. It had been decided that they alone would alternate roles as lookouts, since they both could cover considerably more distance in a short amount of time, unlike Leo and the others. As Sam turned to go, his enhanced sight picked up a fast moving object, heading directly for him. Sam ducked and the arrow flew over him, landing a few feet away in the grass. To his left he could hear the oncoming rushed steps of boots.

  How had he missed them?

  Sam quickly deduced that they had to have canceled out the abilities of his spell with one of their own. He evaded the sideways slash of the soldier, getting his neck clear of the swing just in time. Another swooshing sound behind him could be heard. Sam flipped over the attack and landed behind his would be assailant. The second assailant couldn’t stop himself in time and ended up slashing the abdomen of the first. Sam’s first attacker fell down to the grass, dying. Before the second assailant could gather his thoughts, Sam’s sword had pierced his throat from behind. Choking on his own blood, the man fell to the ground dead as well. Sam heard another whooshing sound and his reflexes helped him deflect an arrow with his sword just in time. He spotted the shooter and was off in his direction in an instant. The shooter turned to run but was tackled by Sam, at the edge of the misty forest. He held his sword to the shooter’s chest menacingly.

  “How many?”

  The shooter remained silent.

  “How many?!” Sam yelled angrily.

  The shooter forced a victorious smile. Upon seeing the smile, Sam pierced the shooter’s left palm with his sword, drawing out a pained scream from the shooter, who twisted violently in agony.

  “How... many? What spell is this and who is the caster?”

  “Arrrgghhhhh!!! 50 strong!” Came the agonized reply.

  “50...” Sam repeated as if to believe the number.

  “What is their class? Tell me!”

  The shooter chuckled. “Death... and undertaker.” Sam’s grip on him lessened as he contemplated what he’d heard. The shooter was happily laughing now amidst the pain.

  “There is also one reaper class with them... I’m sure you know who that is...”

  An enraged Sam knocked the shooter unconscious with the guard of his sword. Sam got up and was off in a hurry towards the gates of Wind Haven. What spell and who is the caster? He never got those answers but there was very little time. He needed to warn the others and he needed to do it fast.

  The clang of metal right behind Davydd’s neck startled both him and Vannera, but it was the fusillade of arrows into the group of Windhaven villagers that really set off an eruption of fear and hysteria, as innocent villagers fell to their deaths after getting impaled by some of the arrows. Davydd turned around to face the direction of the clang of metals he had just heard. Slowly but surely, Leo’s figure materialized into visibility, as did another man’s figure. The man’s sword position and swing belied his initial intentions – to kill Davydd – and Leo’s sword had prevented what would have been certain death. The man clashing swords with Leo wore silver coated battle armor with the caped insignia of the kingdom of Angweleth falling down his back. His dark hair was slicked back and fell down to his neck. He turned to look at Davydd, and for a brief second the expression of utter shock on his face, was unmistakable. However, it was for a brief second and soon, it was replaced by a rather menacing smile.

  “So this was the reason for your disappearance Baximus!” Sidion yelled out.

  “Your child and wife die and you find yourself a replacement. You betrayed me. You betrayed your king! And to add insult to injury, you hid such a secret from me, but right under my nose.” With those last few words, Sidion who had been looking around rested his brown eyes back on Davydd. They now had a cold and menacing glimmer to them. The tip of a sword blade rested on the back of Sidion’s neck. Davydd could see that behind Sidion, the wielder of the blade was none other than Ovar.

  “You were never my king to begin with. And it is with great shame that I admit to being momentarily swayed to betray the man I had looked up to,
my entire life.”

  Sidion shook his head somberly.

  “Then I hope that you find that man somewhere in the land of the dead when you get there.” At that moment, Trudor’s blade was swinging in fast towards Ovar’s neck from behind. But yet again, another blade blocked the death class soldier’s swing. Sam’s blade buckled under the force of Trudor’s swing but he managed to withstand it and push back. Farok emerged from the darkness and took a swing at the unguarded Sam, but he never hit his target. In an instant, Davydd, Vannera, Leo, Ovar and Sam, had been moved from their current location, to a few yards behind where the bonfire was. Max and Matilom stood in front of the group, glaring at Sidion and his soldiers. Sidion smiled and clapped his hands.

  “The current incarnations of the three guardians of Angweleth seem to be as formidable as ever. You definitely have yourself a frightening team Baximus.” His gaze shifted back to Davydd.

  “But it seems your key stone is not ready. Surrender yourselves. Your little misadventure is over.”

  “It seems we are being surrounded.” Leo observed as Angwelethean soldiers climbed up top huts and buildings, some of them taking position and aiming at the group with their arrows, while others maliciously attacked the villagers who had been hiding in their homes.

  “So what do we do now?” Davydd asked. He looked at Ovar. “Baximus? Your name is Baximus?”

  “Steady.” Sam said. “Soon all hell will break lose here and you have to seize your moments to stay alive. Master dare I say we retreat for now?” Sam turned to look at Matilom.

  “It won’t be that easy Sam. We eventually need to retreat, but we do have to fight in order to do so... The odds are against us and we are outnumbered.”

  An arrow flew through the air and struck one of the soldiers on the roof in the eye. The soldier arched back from the force of the impact, and his limp body slumped over the edge, falling to the ground with a thud. A couple of villagers armed with battle axes, cutlasses, old rusted swords, shields, and a few bows and arrows came running out onto the roof tops and on the ground. As they ran, they attacked the soldiers with their weapons, besting a few of them with the element of surprise. A man dressed in a top made of animal skin, with long unkempt graying black hair, black pants and grey thick boots made of animal skin, joined Matilom and Max at the front. He had a bow and arrow in his hand.