The Warrior's Bane (War for the Quarterstar Shards Book 1)

by David L. McDaniel

  Alaezdar had heard that it was through this burp of power that Fyaa and her Birds of Fire, a flaming witch and three beasts from another land and time, had entered Wrae-Kronn. She only wished to go home, and everyone in Wrae-Kronn only wanted her to leave, but no one knew how to help her achieve that end, for no one knew how to open the Aaestfallia Keep so that she could return. The elves would offer no help either.

  No human kingdom had been powerful enough to kill her, not even all the massive armies of the northern human kingdoms. It was not that she was so strong and powerful, but that she was so quick with her destruction. None could find a way to snatch her out of the air or find a hero strong enough to defeat her with sword or other man made weapon. She had been known to devastate entire villages and fire was her favorite weapon.

  On occasion, though, her opponents would outnumber her and surround her and thereby nullify her fire power. In those rare instances, she used her ability to shape change into anything she wished at will -- most commonly a small bird or even an insect -- to avoid capture or death and thereby escape in flight to safety.

  As powerful as Fyaa could be, for the most part she had not seemed intentionally harmful. She did not aggressively attack. Her purpose within this realm was unknown, but what many had told Alaezdar was that she could not move forward with whatever malicious plan she might have because she needed first to find her demon-like birds.

  Those powerful, massive, winged bipedal creatures, which had come to this world moments before she had entered it, had flown away in confusion. Few people have ever seen the birds. The birds had been destructive at first, lighting on fire everything they saw and everything they touched, and they had destroyed many crops and villages. It was as if they were children who had discovered fire and were playing with it only because it was new and entertaining. This had gone on only for a short time before they for some reason stopped. Afterward they had disappeared from Wrae-Kronn completely.

  Fyaa had searched the land for her birds and she swore that she could not, would not, leave this realm without them. Everything she did was somehow linked to the birds. Fools would tempt her by voicing a simple rumor of their whereabouts, or an ignorant fool might summon her, for selfish purposes, to entice her to attack their own enemy by promising her the whereabouts of her birds. Whatever the reasons, they would end up with many deaths and Fyaa would leave without her birds.

  Alaezdar stared up into the night sky and remembered his first meeting with Fyaa.

  He had not actually seen her, but he did see the charred remains of a battlefield where some numb-brained elite had coerced her into partaking in a battle as ransom for information about the birds. Man, horses and the like lay smoldering on the ground after the small skirmish. The Trielian spearman and archers, with Fyaa’s help, had defeated a small group of bothersome raiders of their kingdom who had been a problem to the Trielian king for many years. They lay upon the battlefield, totally annihilated, but her help did come at a great cost to the king after Fyaa had learned of his deception.

  Alaezdar had still been part of Rager’s House of Renegades, who had been summoned for a price to help in the cause of ridding the Trielian kingdom of the raiders, but they had arrived too late and they had missed Fyaa’s fury against the raiders. The battle had just ended and they quickly surveyed the area and saw that not only were they too late, but their services were not needed. Without receiving payment, they went back to their base at Daevanwood.

  Later, after the battle, Fyaa had found out that the information about her birds had been fraudulent and she attacked the castle at Triel and had torched the commander who had made the promise to her as well as a dozen of his soldiers before she shape-changed into a small insect and escaped as the remaining soldiers began to re-group and take the initiative.

  Lying there under the stars, Alaezdar could not imagine why Fyaa was active now. Was it another case of promised information about the three birds which had sent her on another quest? He shuddered to think of who would be so brave or stupid to tease Fyaa with information, only to now to have her intervene into this small defenseless village and kidnap an innocent woman and drag her into the goblin tribe’s forest.

  He closed his eyes and drifted off into a restless half sleep, trying in vain to block out images of the many different scenarios of the death he could see for himself and his friends.

  He wasn’t even quite asleep when Rivlok’s hour was done and Rivlok gently kicked him in the ribs to wake him for his turn at the watch.

  Alaezdar sat up, brushed his hair out of his eyes and nodded at Rivlok. “Get some sleep. It won’t be much, so hurry.”

  Rivlok said nothing and walked away. Alaezdar thought he heard him huff and grumble after his back was turned and he walked back to his blanket and roll.

  Alaezdar stood up, grabbed Bloodseeker, strapped it to his back, and walked the perimeter of the camp to check on the others to assure that they were fast asleep. Morlonn snored lightly, but Tharn snored loudly and Alaezdar gave him a gentle kick in the ribs to quiet the telltale noise. Tharn stopped, grumbled something incoherent, and rolled over.

  The night’s chill had set in. Alaezdar looked up momentarily and breathed in the oak scrub and the Manzanita’s musky smell mixed with fresh pine. He was tired, but he knew he had to go forward. He would stay up for his hour and then get some rest because otherwise even he would be too tired to press on.

  As he continued around the perimeter of the encampment, he watched and listened intently. He walked deliberately and cautiously so as not to stir up any animals or kick any noisy wood debris from the soft forest floor.

  The stars this evening were so bright that he did not have to strain his eyes to see out in the distance. Extending his perimeter in a circular fashion, he scanned for any signs of trouble and listened for any movement. Even as silent as he tried to be, twice he startled a young jackrabbit that jumped up and hauled off in front of him. He wished he had his bow and arrow. A young rabbit stew would be delicious if only they had the time to cook it.

  He shook his head. It was too early to be thinking about food already. They were going to be out at least a week with no more than nuts and berries, and a big rabbit dinner was not in the equation.

  He walked the perimeter three more times without event, but as he began his fourth round, he heard something. He unsheathed Bloodseeker, crouched down and listened, but heard nothing more. With the exception of turning his head slowly in both directions, he did not move for many minutes,. He stayed in the crouched position and then lay flat on his stomach and listened to the sounds at ground level to see if he could hear any footfalls or the crumpling of leaves.

  Again he sensed nothing. Satisfied, he stood up and sheathed his sword.

  Alaezdar then saw him. He was standing directly in front of him, so close he could almost sense the man’s breath upon his own face. The man seized the moment of surprise and grabbed Alaezdar’s head with both his hands, one on each side just above his ears, and Alaezdar stepped back to escape the man’s grip. He tried to reach for Bloodseeker behind his back, but he could not break free of the man’s grasp.

  The man whispered, “No!”

  He stood right in front of Alaezdar but let go of his head. Alaezdar stepped back and withdrew his sword.

  “I am not here to attack you,” the man said. “If I were, you would be dead by now. I have been watching you since you woke up and I stood almost directly in front of you while you were on your stomach. You were easy prey, if I wanted you dead. Put your sword away.”

  Alaezdar paused. It was not often that he was caught so easily and feebly, but he did put his sword away even though he was not comfortable with the situation.

  “Who are you?” he asked the man.

  “Yes, a fair questio
n so early in the meeting,” the man said in a hushed tone so as not to disturb the others’ sleep.

  He was dressed in crumpled dark cloak with this hood back. In the dark, Alaezdar had a hard time making out the features on his face, but from what he could tell, his face looked as wrinkled as his cloak. He had short dark hair and he seemed fit, given his build.

  “I am Gartan, the Kronn Seeker, and you are Alaezdar.”

  “How do you know me?” Alaezdar was now even more puzzled by this strange intruder.

  “Gartan the Dark said you were heading this direction. So I began looking for you…and here you are.”

  “But. Gartan the Dark is back in Valewood. How is that possible?”

  Gartan smiled.

  “I thought you knew us better than that. We can communicate through the land. I myself am especially good at reading the land. I have been doing this for quite a while. That is why I am here. I live here, in the goblin tribe’s forest, and have all of my life. It is my job to seek out Kronn and everything that is Kronn, discover the origin of its birth, and predict its death. I have long since learned that this realm’s origination began not too far from here. The Kronn, the land, and some of the people here are intertwined, and since it is Kronn and everything about Kronn that I seek, I am very good at listening to the land and the Kronn.

  “So you are here to find me? Why?” Alaezdar asked. He was starting to relax his aggressive stance.

  “I have a message for you that will save your life.”

  “And what is that?” he asked unconditionally. He trusted all of the Watchers Guild’s messages because during his experiences with Rager’s House of Renegades, he found that their knowledge had been almost always uncannily true.

  “Listen to Bloodseeker, but it is not with Bloodseeker from which you will find answers.”

  Alaezdar shook his head in confusion.

  “That’s it? What is that supposed to mean? That’s a bit contradictory isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but no. As far as anything and everything matters, that is what I must tell you. If I was to die right this minute, I would not have succeeded in my personal mission, but I will have accomplished what Kronn has asked me to do. Anything that I tell you from here on out is merely noncommittal. My only other instructions were to find you tonight in the dark so that I could see your eyes as I tell you this. I have been told that you are either the savior of the realm, or the destroyer of it, or both.”

  “Why do you speak in riddles?” Alaezdar asked. He was now frustrated. He remembered speaking with Tharn earlier about elven prophecy and how it had aggravated him just thinking about it again then.

  “I do not know. All I know is what I have been told through Kronn. Although I do know a bit about you that you may not know about yourself.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, I know that you think your sword is a magical sword.”

  “Well, I don’t know if I would call it magical, but it has been with me for a long time. It was given to me by my mentor, Lark Blade, but he did not tell me that I would feel differently when I use it. When I do, though, I am changed within.”

  “So, your Kronn courses through it?”

  “I suppose, though I am not that familiar with Kronn, or what it means to me, or how it works. My father spent some time explaining it to me, but I didn’t listen. I don’t care for wizards and their special enhancements, and I certainly didn’t care to be a wizard, as he wanted me to be.”

  Gartan paused after Alaezdar’s response as if he were assembling pieces of his own mysterious puzzle.

  “I have been searching for Kronn,” he said, “its existence, its meaning and its genesis. It has been said that its origination is somewhere near here, near the catacombs, and I have not strayed far from this area for many years. Because of this I know quite a bit about the subject.”

  Alaezdar’s head swam. His eyes began to see moving shadows on Gartan’s face and it distracted him to focus on Gartan’s face in the dark.

  “What are your plans now, now that you have presented your message to me?” he asked in hope of ending the conversation.

  “Well, with your permission, I would like to travel with your group.”

  Alaezdar sighed. Of course, he thought to himself.

  “What means of protection or weapons do you have for yourself?”

  “Just a knife and my cloak.”

  “Oh, that should do fine,” Alaezdar mocked. “You really shouldn’t travel with us. We don’t have much food ourselves, much less enough to add another person.”

  “You won’t have to worry about me. I can defend myself and I know this area very well and can come up with some food that you won’t have to hunt for yourself. It will be nourishing enough to last your whole trip.”

  Good enough Alaezdar thought to himself. Tired and impatient, he gave in. He figured that Gartan just might turn out to be useful in that respect alone.

  “Then get some sleep. We will be up in two hours.”

  “Actually, I have already slept. If you would allow it, you can sleep for two hours and I will watch over you.”

  Alaezdar thought about rejecting the offer, but he was tired, and it would be good to let the others sleep through, as well. They were going to need it. He was a bit hesitant about trusting Gartan, but he had known other Watcher’s Guild members and he had never known any of them to be malicious in any way. Besides, he could really use that extra hour of sleep.

  “Done,” Alaezdar said. “Wake us in two hours.”

  Alaezdar went back to his bed roll and looked up at the stars. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind. This time he fell asleep without a further thought.

  Chapter 15

  Gartan woke them up late. It was still before sunrise, the air was still and chilly and the color of the sky was no longer dark, but was beginning to show a faint hue of orange and blue. He bent over to wake of Alaezdar, and Alaezdar jumped with a start. He knew immediately he had slept too long.

  “What is wrong with you?” he yelled and he grabbed Gartan by his cloak and pushed him to the ground. As he shouted, the others woke up and began stir.

  “You need your rest,” Gartan said as he sat up. “You are not going to catch them before the Death Pass.”

  “Of course, we aren’t, now that we’ve slept so late.”

  “You weren’t going to make it either way. You have been taking too long in your chase.”

  Alaezdar growled and cursed under his breath. This group is destined to die, he thought to himself.

  “Get up everyone. We have to hurry! Grab your packs, load your horses, and we will eat later on the way,” he said as he kicked the ground while grabbing his belongings.

  Everyone jumped up and scurried to roll up their belongings. They loaded and saddled up the horses and were on the trail within minutes. They removed some non-essential items from the packhorse to make room for Gartan and they could now move a little bit faster by not having to pony the horse any longer. Rivlok still rode on Tharn’s horse, but complained viciously as he climbed up behind Tharn. Morlonn led the way because he had the fastest horse and he scouted the trail ahead as he rode. Everyone rode all day at a quick pace.

  Alaezdar noticed the cloak that Gartan wore seemed to shimmer against the backdrop of the trees. Sometimes it even seemed to him that Gartan would disappear. Knowing better, he tried to ignore what he was seeing, and he allowed his mind to wander on simple things. No matter how he tried, though, his thoughts became clouded with memories he wished he could forget.

  He kept thinking about his father, but why his thoughts kept drifting to him, he did not know. It was annoying him. He n
eeded to concentrate on the next few days ahead, but some foreboding details kept creeping into his mind, and these thoughts did not include anyone that was with him. It was as if what was about to happen did not matter in the grand scheme of things. All he could hear was his father’s voice reprimanding him for wanting to be a soldier.

  “You are wasting yourself,” his father had told him often. The ironic part, Alaezdar knew, was that he had never really instructed him to be any different either. He just gave his son constant harassment and criticism of everything he did.

  Alaezdar tried to think of things his father might have said that would give him a clue to his current situation. Why was he in it? Why did his thoughts continue to come back to his father? He didn’t know. He could not remember much of anything about those days, but there had been constant turmoil when his father was around. Most of the time he was gone, but every time he did return, there was never a happy reunion.

  It was after his mom had been killed, that he realized why he kept returning to his father. It was something Fyaa had said at the sacking of Valewood, something about him not knowing who he was. She must have known he was the son of Val-Vector-Sor. The wizard Torz had killed his mom to exact a punishment upon Alaezdar’s father, but there may have been – or still be, Alaezdar thought -- a connection between Ra-Corsh and Fyaa through Torz.

  “Ah, ha!” Alaezdar yelled aloud. At the exact moment of his revelation he noticed that Gartan’s cloak was indeed changing appearances and camouflaging itself into the scenery behind him.

  “Gartan, stop!” he commanded.

  Gartan pulled the reigns of his horse and waited for Alaezdar to catch up, but before he could say anything to Gartan, Morlonn came out of the woods from scouting ahead.

  “Did you find anything?” Alaezdar asked as he approached.

  “No, their trail has gone completely cold. I have gone ahead, circled to our left and right flanks for about three miles in each direction. I even climbed a few trees, but still no sign.”