The Shadow Knight (A Shadow Knight Novel Book 1)

by Jason L. McWhirter

  She looked up from her plate, a gentle smile returning. She didn’t miss the fact that his response was diplomatic and vague. But she said nothing about it. “I am just being selfish, forget I said anything. Besides, peace between our kingdoms is what is important.” Her vulnerability had disappeared and was replaced with the diplomacy one would expect from her position. Tyril had to admit that he preferred the other side of her more.

  They all continued to talk over the rest of the meal, later drinking a rare sweet wine and watching musicians and dancers. After the entertainment, they said their good nights and all the guests were escorted back to their quarters. The city of Angar was a fairly large city for a border town, and the keep was in the middle of the city, its sturdy stone walls protecting a twenty room castle housing two hundred Lanard soldiers. But they had not dined with Earl Gallinor at the keep, knowing full well that the Tur’el contingent would not agree to such terms before a full treaty could be agreed upon. There was still a lot of distrust between the two kingdoms. Each side had erected tents for their men in the grassy field outside the city gate, the royal families setting up massive tent quarters nearly as opulent as their own back at home. Earl Gallinor had previously built a beautiful dining tent, the cook’s quarters alongside it with cooking stations ready to go. The structure was big enough to house tables to feed the royal families as well their dignitaries, and also provide space for musicians and entertainment. The entire area was lit up by hundreds of long burning torches stuck into the ground. The next day would be spent hammering out the peace treaty, both sides knowing that the wedding would not continue if they could not come to an amicable agreement. King Rothar did not bring the subject of the demon up during their dinner, feeling it was best to discuss the matter the next day during the treaty discussions.

  Tyril’s shift was over and he made his way through the lit paths created by the many tents to his own sleeping quarters. Despite the fact that he was a noble, and the son of the Battle Lord, he was still in his first year of service and required to sleep with the other men until he made rank of Captain in two years. Then he would have his own sleeping tent, but tonight he was sharing a tent with two other men, both older than he. They both had the night shift, guarding the perimeter, and once he laid his sword next to him, resting his head on his warm blankets, he was quickly asleep. He kept his armor and clothes on, something his father taught him when out on the road. At first it was uncomfortable, but he was now used to it, and it bothered him little as dreams quickly found him.

  Chapter Four

  Atticus Belthar lay in the shallow warm water, his naked body sucking in the warmth from the natural warm spring while the cool evening air licked at his exposed skin. He loved the dual sensations, both reminding him of the strength and wonder of the natural world. But he wasn’t just relaxing in the water; he was pulling energy from the earth. The natural spring spilled water from deep underground, forming several shallow pools among various strewn rocks and boulders. The water carried with it energy from the earth, and Atticus spent many hours soaking in the waters, pulling energy into him maintaining his youth and vitality. The water cascaded over the rocks of the pool he was in, running through a small river of worn stones to pour into another smaller pool, before dumping into a creek twenty yards further. The clearing was beautiful, one end dominated by a rock face twice as tall as a man, the water dumping over the rocky edge. Surrounding the grass and rock strewn clearing were massive trees, forming a protective ring around the oasis. Intermittent throughout the green grass were purple and white flowers which would soon hide their beauty as winter arrived. It was Atticus’s favorite spot in the Lasur’een Forest.

  Lying next to him in a bed of soft grass was a colossal cat, its black, fur covered body, stretched long and its huge head resting on its muscled forelegs, ending in clawed paws each as big as a man’s head. It was a shadow cat, big predators that hunted the prevalent game all throughout the Lasur’een forest. Its name was Korum and Atticus had rescued him when he was just a kitten, his mother killed by a rock bear, the only animal in the forest that was more dangerous. Korum had been his companion for the last twenty years and there wasn’t anything they didn’t do together.

  After an hour or so he slowly stood from the pool, warm water dripping off his lean muscular body. Korum looked up from his slumber, but quickly lowered his head back to the ground, closing his eyes once again. Atticus felt revitalized and strong, like he could run up the side of the Sarhast Mountains without breaking a sweat. His brown-blonde hair was shoulder length and he shook it out, spraying water into the cool air. Scars of various sizes and shapes covered his body, but despite the look of wear and tear the scares gave him, he looked no older than forty. No one would believe he was nearly two thousand years old. As far as he knew, he was the last druid west of the Tundren Mountains, and he had spent the last 1898 years protecting the Lasur’een Forest. For that protection, the earth gave back, sustaining him and giving him the power to protect the land. He had looked the same over the many years, gaining power and skill but seemingly not aging.

  He was a legend throughout Tur’el and Lanard, told in stories as the man who defeated the demon Maltheil. Most thought him dead, long ago his name forgotten except when whispered in stories and sang in songs. He preferred it that way, known now by many names, preferring to stay a recluse as he patrolled the borders of the forest. He had four different cabins located throughout the vast forest, and when interacting with the people of Tur’el or Lanard, he used the names Torgeen, Embry, or sometimes Solum. No one had called him Atticus for over a thousand years.

  He stretched his muscles and walked to the clothes draped over a nearby rock. After putting on his huntsman’s clothes, all various shades of greens and browns, and donning his mithril steel chainmail shirt under his forest green tunic, he buckled on his sword belt and picked up his long bow, slinging the quiver of arrows over his shoulder. Just as he was about to leave a pulse of energy erupted from the ground at his feet, nearly knocking him over. Druids called the earth energy Sanga, and the Sanga was reaching out to him. Few people even knew about the energy of the earth, let alone had the ability to harness it, to understand it. Druids could of course, but there were not many left. They had either been killed in battle, or hunted down by defenders of the new gods, seeing them as heretics and followers of the old ways. But the Sanga was not a god, or even an entity, it was what made everything something. It was what caused the sun to rise and set and the oceans to rise and recede every day.

  It pulsed again and images rocked his mind. Korum lifted his head and rose quickly to his feet, sensing something wrong with Atticus. The cat growled and looked around the clearing, ready for any danger and prepared to protect his master. For a minute Atticus stood in shock, not fully comprehending what he had just seen in his mind. The Sanga was warning him that something was threatening the forest, and that something was familiar to him. Again the Sanga pulsed through him, the image of a black skinned demon flashing in his mind. Atticus’s heart pounded in his chest and his hand went unconsciously to his sword, Korum growling louder at his movement. Maltheil was back, and the dark beast’s black presence had just touched the western border of the forest…his forest.

  Atticus looked at his companion, his face intense. “We must go.” And then he was off, disappearing quickly into the woods, the big cat leaping ahead.

  ***

  Jonas and Bearit had been riding north for half a day when Tulari emerged from the undergrowth. Her mottled gray and black coat was now shades of green and brown making her nearly invisible as she appeared from the bushes. Having the ability to change her size as well as her color made her an extremely dangerous hunter. She had been scouting the forest around them, checking back often to make sure they were still heading in the right direction. They were following the road to Lanard and there had been no turn offs as yet.

  We followed Tulari said in Jonas’s mind. Her ability to form mental words was linked to her v
ocabulary, which was minimal, so she communicated with simple phrases and sometimes pictures, sending Jonas mental flashes or garbled words.

  Jonas had heard or felt nothing, which worried him as his skill as a tracker and woodsman had improved considerably under Allindrian’s tutelage. “What follows us?” He did not have the skill to talk to her with his mind, as she did to him.

  Animals. Several, she added.

  That was odd. But perhaps that was why he did not detect anything. There is not much that can move more quietly in the forest than the animals that lived there.

  “Who be followin’ us?” Bearit asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Jonas answered, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in worry. “Tulari says it’s some type of animal, more than one.”

  “Can’t she tell you what it is?”

  “It doesn’t work that way. She does not have the words as we do. If she recognizes the creature, than she can typically verbalize it, but if not, then I may only get images, or nothing specific.” Jonas knew that if she could not send a mental image of the pursuer than that meant she had not seen it, only detected it. And that worried Jonas. There were few animals that could avoid the eyes of a night wolf, and none of them were anything you wanted following you.

  Tulari led them further and at a faster rate, and within the hour they turned east off the main road following a wagon trail, which according to the map would lead them over the North Fork of the Onith River to the Lasur’een forest. They were now moving away from Lanard. The troubling part was what they found at the intersection. The ground had been torn up and disturbed, like a crowd of people had been moved from the direction of Lanard onto the side road that Tulari had indicated. Jonas dismounted to inspect the tracks.

  “What do you make of it?” Bearit asked, looking down at the many tracks and smudges leading from Lanard to the east.

  “A group of people, maybe twenty. But the strange part is there are tracks that I do not recognize, and a few animal tracks as well.”

  “What kind of animals?”

  “Several look to belong to a big cat, or maybe a bear,” Jonas responded as he carefully inspected the ground. “The group was tired, corralled and moved against their will.”

  Bearit frowned, unsure how he could see that. And he voiced his disbelief. “How can you see that by looking at tracks? And what type of group be travelin’ with bears and cats? ”

  Jonas didn’t bother looking up, inspecting the ground further. “Many were dragging their legs, not lifting them properly, a sure sign of exhaustion. The interior tracks are smaller, probably from women and children, like they were being protected. And I have no idea why there were big animals with them. It’s definitely strange.”

  “Protected from what?”

  This time Jonas looked up. “From whatever was herding them.” He moved to his horse and leapt into the saddle. “My bet is that whatever is following us is somehow linked to this group. The tracks are a day old. Tulari is leading us in their direction. Be vigilant.” Then he urged his steed forward with Bearit following, his eyes scanning every shadow for a threat.

  Tulari continued to disappear into the forest, appearing often and letting Jonas know that they were still being followed. Jonas didn’t like it. Something was following them while at the same time a group of people ahead of them were being coerced against their will. Neither of the prospects was welcoming.

  It wasn’t long before they approached a large stone bridge that spanned over the North Fork of the Onith River. It was late evening by this time and soon they would need a place to camp. Jonas didn’t like the idea of sleeping in the open while something was stalking them. He pulled up short of the bridge to think.

  “What is it?” Bearit asked.

  “You tell me,” Jonas replied, ending with a question of his own. “What am I worried about?”

  Bearit thought for a moment, looking at the bridge, the road over it made of slabs of stone and wide enough for a wagon or cart. Looking up he measured the sun’s position. “We will need to camp soon. We are being followed by somethin’ unknown. The question is, where do we camp?”

  “Good,” Jonas responded. “And where would you suggest?”

  “A defendable position in case what follows us be a threat,” Bearit said, thinking out loud. He was missing something. Jonas had pulled up short of the bridge for a reason. Then it came to him. “You want to camp on the bridge.”

  Jonas nodded. “Good. Why?”

  “Well, the bridge be narrow and the only way we could be approached is from either end. Our sides would be protected,” Bearit added. “If we set up camp in the woods, attack could come from anywhere and we would never see it coming. This way, we can see what be approachin’, their attack comin’ from two directions only.”

  This time Jonas smiled. “Well done. It will be less than comfortable, but I agree with your reasoning.”

  Bearit shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept on hard ground…beats a sword in the gut in the middle of the night.”

  Jonas dismounted. “I don’t think it’s a sword we will have to worry about. Whatever follows us is not a man.”

  Bearit dismounted as well, eager to get off the horse. His backside was still sore, but he was getting more used to the animal, adjusting better with its movements and causing less pain to himself in the process. “What will we do with the animals?”

  “We can tether them here where they can graze on the grass and moss,” Jonas replied as he looked around for a suitable spot. He found one easily enough and after they watered the horses and tied them off, they removed their packs from the saddles and walked together across the bridge. There was a stone wall built up on either side of the bridge about waist high and they both looked down to the fast flowing water below. It was a fifteen pace drop to the clear water and just down river looked to be a violent set of rapids, the fast moving water crashing into huge boulders, the roaring white water disappearing in a violent cascade beyond where they could see.

  As they neared the middle of the bridge, their horses whinnied loudly behind them. Both of them turned and saw Tulari running towards them at full speed, her coat now shades of black and gray. She was at her full size which alerted Jonas right away that something was wrong.

  Danger…ready to fight! It was like she was yelling in Jonas’s mind. Jonas dropped his pack and swung his bow up, nocking an arrow quickly, his vigilant eyes scanning the growing shadows beyond the bridge. Bearit sensed the danger and stood defensively, his axe held before him in both hands. Tulari skidded before them and turned in the direction she had come from. They were still as statues; the only thing heard was the panting of their breath as adrenaline raced through them.

  After what seemed like forever, Bearit spoke up. “What be out there?” His voice was a whisper, but Jonas heard the nervous strain.

  Just then Jonas heard something on the opposite side of the bridge and he spun quickly, his arrow drawn back tightly. The others did the same. At the far end of the bridge, nearly thirty paces away, was a huge cat nearly as big as Tulari. The creature stood perfectly still, its yellow eyes sparkling in the evening shadows. Obviously this was the animal that had been following them. Or perhaps there were more than one as Jonas had no idea how it got on the other side of the river. But there was something about it that didn’t seem right. Its yellow eyes dripped a mucous-like substance, and its coat was matted and tangled, like it hadn’t bathed itself in years. Even its musculature was wrong. It seemed ganglier, almost unhealthy, and there were spots along its body devoid of hair, exposing a matte black skin.

  “That be lookin like a shadow cat,” Bearit whispered.

  “There is something wrong with it,” Jonas said softly, his arrow still held at the side of his head. Just as he spoke dark forms materialized from the shadowed brush. There were ten men wearing different shades of dark clothing and carrying various weapons. They carried swords and axes and even a few held spears and wore armor. But he ha
d seen their like before, in the catacombs below Gyeen. They were completely bald and pale as milk, their eyes sunken and surrounded in hues of red and black. Even in the dim evening light he could clearly see the black mark snaking up their necks and around their bald heads. Another animal appeared but this one was a rock bear, and it was gigantic, as big as Tulari but thicker in the shoulders. Its gray coat was in complete disarray, and combined with its red and sunken eyes looked as if it had come back from the dead.

  One of the men, who was clad in a dark green cloak worn over chainmail, stepped forward, a long sword held at his side. He opened his mouth and what came next surprised even Jonas.

  The man spoke, but he did not move his lips. The sound seemed to emanate from him. “I sense… something,” the man hissed, “about you. Who are you?” The voice was soft but carried the weight of power.

  Jonas heard something behind them and glanced back to see another ten men span out across the other bridge entrance. Another big cat was with them and the agile beast leapt up to stand gracefully on the bridge wall. The creature looked as the other, mangled and dirty, with sunken yellow eyes, long teeth dripping with saliva. They were surrounded. How did Jonas miss them? They must have been watching silently in the woods, not moving, waiting for them to walk onto the bridge where they could surround them. The cat behind them must have been the creature that Tulari had detected.

  “I am Jonas. What matter of creature are you and what have you done to these men?”

  “I am the destroyer of kingdoms and the enslaver of men. These,” the man said, indicating the animals and men around him, “are my slaves.”

  Bearit’s hands were sweating on the handle of his axe and Tulari was growling deeply next to him. He glanced at Jonas hoping to gain some of his confidence.

  Jonas still held the bow at full draw. “Are you Maltheil?”