As he looked, shadows of three creatures darted around him in the storm. They were known as lindworms. They were five to seven feet long with rows and rows of needlelike teeth that curved backwards into the mouth. A few guards had been killed in the past after being bitten by the lindworm, suffering from blood poisoning caused by the creature’s saliva. If they were lucky, the wounded limb would be amputated. The scales of the lindworm posed another problem. They were small and thick, and as hard as scale male. Swords and spears could not penetrate the armor-like coat. The inside of the mouth was tender, as was their underside, and powerful down and upstrokes worked well against them.
One of the desert lizards circled around Kosai and clawed at the rock. The Wolf raised his swords and swung them down on the lizard’s head. Each embedded in the creature’s skull, and as he pulled it out, blood sprayed upward. The creature twitched as the blood pooled and congealed with the sand. As he looked at his first kill, another lizard jumped from behind him and tackled him off the rock.
While in mid fall, Kosai turned, tucked his legs into his chest and kicked the creature over his head. Kosai continued to turn and landed on his feet. The lizard recuperated from its fall and charged with an open mouth. The wolf side stepped and slashed with his right. The sword shattered the lizard’s teeth before dividing its head.
The third lizard was off to Kosai’s left. It flicked its tongue and waited. Kosai walked slowly up to the lizard and raised his swords. Something struck his back and his ribs cracked with the impact. He wheezed as the air instantly left his lungs, and he fell on the sand. He tried to push himself up and screamed as pain shot though his chest. The sword that he held in his left hand was knocked away from him but he still held the other in his right. He used his legs to roll himself onto his back. A black hooded figure stood over him, but it was not a nomad.
A black turban was wrapped around his head and face. Two amber eyes peered at Kosai. His cloak was shredded and torn. Metal plates covered his shoulders, elbows, knees and wrists; sharp, thorn-like points protruding from the middle of them. Plated gloves covered his hand with sharpened points at the fingertips. In his right hand, he held a long club with brass spheres embedded into the wood. A glass vial filled with a black substance was attached to a leather strap which was wrapped around the figure’s left hand. His body was wrapped in a black robe. Dark ethereal tendrils flowed around him.
He raised the club above his head. Kosai screamed past the pain and stabbed upwards with his sword. The blade sank into the torso of the figure, but it felt as if he was stabbing at air. The figure laughed and struck his club down across the sword. The blade snapped in half and the figure pulled out the portion of the blade that was in him. Kosai expected to find blood tracing the sharp edge of the blade, but found none.
He grabbed is shoulder and began to push himself away with his legs. The hooded figure took the broken blade and threw it down at Kosai, puncturing his left thigh just above the metal armor, and went through and through. Kosai screamed again and grabbed his leg with one hand just above the wound. With the other, he grabbed the blade and attempted to pull it out. As the figure walked slowly closer, Kosai jerked the blade free and held it tightly in his hand. The sharp edge sliced into the crevices of his fingers, drawing jagged streams of blood.
The hooded figure walked closer and planted his pointed boot onto Kosai’s chest. Kosai slashed at the dark figure, this time connecting and drawing a black cut across the figures leg. The figure hissed, growled, and raised his club again. The wolf switched the blade into an underhanded position and slashed at the figure’s falling arm. The strike connected. The figure recoiled, dropped his club and grabbed his wrist. A stream of purple lightening snapped and crackled around the black vial and quickly faded.
Sand continued to blow around them. The hooded figure made no noise as it slowly backed away and disappeared in the storm. Quickly, Kosai looked around him, checking his surroundings for anymore of the lindworm. He could see a single shadow slowly slithering towards him. Its tail and head rocked side to side as it flicked its tongue, tasting the gritty air.
He turned onto his belly and held the broken sword blade upright. The lizard stopped and slowly turned its head to one side and then the other. Then it looked in his direction and rushed towards him. The sound of the lizard’s claws tearing across the ground could be heard above the howling wind.
The lizard appeared out of the brown haze with an open jaw, showing its sharp, curled teeth. The wolf sliced at the open jaw, cutting deeply into the corner of the creature’s mouth. It hissed and began to circle around the wounded Kosai. A surge of energy, driven by fear gave him the strength to turn on the coarse ground, keeping his head pointed towards the lizard.
The lindworm inched closer and swatted Kosai with his claw. Instinctually, the wolf raised the blade to intercept the attack. The sharp talons of the creature tore into his forearm and dug deeply into his flesh. Kosai’s arm tensed in pain. The lindworm swatted at the sword, and knocked it away. It took another step closer and swiped at the wolf with the other claw. Kosai lifted his arm to protect his head. His bloodied forearm was batted away, the lizard’s talons passing just over his head.
The lizard lunged with his open, bloody mouth. Kosai clenched his right hand and swung at lizards head, hitting him in the eye, but the lizard was undeterred. The razor like teeth sank into his left shoulder.
Kosai screamed and struck again, but the lizard did not loosen his bite. He was losing feeling in the injured arm and could feel the vast amounts of blood draining onto his skin. Time was running out.
Kosai straightened his two of his fingers in his right hand and jabbed them into the hard black eye of the lizard. The eye collapsed and Kosai began to pull on the creature’s eye socket. The lizard shrieked and released Kosai’s shoulder, ripping small chunks of flesh from his shoulder and ran into the storm.
The storm passed as soon as the lizard vanished. He was a few paces away from the caravan and the guard that entered the storm with him. Kosai screamed in pain as the adrenaline faded. The guards and the lead caravan driver rushed up to him.
“When you said he spilled blood, I wasn’t expecting his own,” the caravan driver said accusingly.
“Silence trader,” Kosai muttered. The guards carefully rolled Kosai onto his back. He coughed and choked.
“Kosai, what happened?” the guard asked. Kosai didn’t respond. The caravan driver faced the wagon and placed his arms above his head in an “X”. The other drivers looked at the wounded guard eagerly for a moment, and then jumped from their seats into their wagons. Each came to the lead driver with medical supplies. The driver unstopped a bottle filled with light brown liquid, held Kosai’s head up and forced the fluid down his throat. Kosai groaned and twitched in pain, and fell unconscious.
The other drivers removed Kosai’s shirt and bandaged his shoulder. A tourniquet was tied just above the leg wound. Another, darker brown liquid was forced down Kosai’s throat and the remainder was poured over the already bloody bandages.
“Quick, bring me his horse,” the guard said to one of the drivers. The horse was brought, and the guard lifted him over his shoulder, mounted the horse, and carefully sat Kosai in front of him on the saddle.
“Now only four?” the lead caravan driver exclaimed.
“These four will aid you well. I doubt that you will have any trouble,” the guard said. “If there is a beast that can injure this man, I would assume locals would steer clear of it. My advice is to follow the storm if you can. Travel well.” He kicked the horse and rode off towards Noiknaer.
Once at the capital city, blood oozed through the bandages and shirt. Silence was left in the wake of the horse as the two raced down Outer Road, towards the Barracks. The few people they came across plucked strings from their shirts and tossed them towards the guards as they passed.
Guards and students of the Barracks surrounded the horse on his arrival and carefully lowered K
osai into their arms. The Captain approached the group as they carried Kosai up the stairs. He wore a white shirt, chainmail, black trousers and brown boots. Silver clasps connected his grey cape to the shoulders of his shirt.
“What happened?” he asked. The guard that had brought Kosai from the desert approached the man.
“Captain, I would prefer to explain it in private,” the guard said. The Captain gave him a stern look and at the same time, signaled for Kosai to be brought inside.
“Take him to the medical wing. You, come with me,” the Captain said to the guard who had brought Kosai. He led him into the Barracks and a little ways past the medical wing.
“Explain yourself in full detail. Leave nothing out,” the Captain whispered.
The guard explained the unusual sand storm that stopped yet continued to turn in front of them. He explained how Kosai had he went into the storm, but lost sight of him shortly after. When the storm cleared, he was bloody.
“The wounds are lindworm bites, but he has killed more than any of us can recall of those beasts,” the guard said. The Captain was silent for a moment, staring down at the ground and breathing evenly.
“I understand your willingness to trust Kosai, but walking into the storm was foolish! You should have ordered him to stay with the caravan. None the less, what’s done is done.” The Captain paused and sighed. “The storm itself was unnatural. I will take audience with the Council this afternoon and bring up this issue. You are dismissed.”
“Captain, what about the caravan, they are already short two guards.”
“You’re dismissed,” the Captain said shortly. The guard saluted and walked away.
CHAPTER 2
Kosai awoke lying face down, elevated, and looking at a white, ceramic-tiled floor. The guard uniform had been removed and he was dressed in a white apron that was tied tightly up the back. He tried to move his arms and legs but couldn’t. He was restrained by a variety of straps. Large ones lay flat and tight against the small of his back while thinner ones decorated his arms and legs, leaving little space for his skin to breathe. He attempted to move his head but quickly gave up when his struggling against the overly sized cushions and dual straps that kept his head in place didn’t move. Kosai grunted and jerked in frustration.
There was a metal pang and click. Kosai rotated slowly upward in the bed. A man grunted at Kosai’s right. There was a second pang and metal click. Kosai, strapped to the bed, was upright and rocked slightly for a few brief moments before being completely immobile again. The man that had brought Kosai upright walked in front of him.
“Captain,” Kosai said quietly. He jerked his arm, attempting to habitually salute him.
“Kosai, don’t try to move too much. Your back is broken in three places, as well as a couple ribs. There is severe muscle and bone damage to your shoulder and your arm is suffering from an infection. Most of the tissue surrounding it was already rotting. The gash in your leg was stitched and wrapped. Now that you are informed of your condition, I want you to relate to me what happened. Leave out no details.”
Kosai told the Captain of the strange sandstorm that stood still and swirled in front of him like a moving wall. He explained the lizards and the hooded figure, and how he had struck out at the hooded figure, only to see his blade pass through him as if he were a dark, dense mist. As Kosai told about the hooded figure, the Captain moved to Kosai’s side. The Captain grew pale at the story and his hands started to shake slightly.
“When you faught the hooded figure, was it like attacking a ghost? Were his movements natural?”
“Yes, it was almost like he was real, but in other ways, not. But there was one other strange thing about him, or whatever it was. It had a vial, filled with a black liquid, attached to a leather cord that was wrapped around his left hand. After he walked away into the storm, I fought off the other lizard, passed out and woke up here.”
Kosai grimaced and shivered as sudden throbs of pain swelled and receded in his shoulder. The Captain stood silent and gripped Kosai’s right arm firmly, stilling the pain induced tremors.
“The pain is good for you, it will make you stronger,” the Captain said. A white hand print, almost as white as the hand that grabbed it, appeared and quickly faded as the Captain released his grip and turned to the cupboards. “How are you reacting to the encounter mentally?” he asked.
Each medical room had a wash basin on top of tan cement table. Above and below the table were cabinets filled with gauze pads, wraps, bottles filled with medication in liquid and pill form, other medical supplies, and fresh training cloths for the students of the Barracks. The Captain looked through the cabinets and pulled out a pad of gauze, a roll of white cloth and a glass bottle of burgundy liquid.
“Mentally, I don’t want to believe it. I stabbed him once and my sword went right through him.”
The Captain fumbled with the glass bottle, tried to catch it twice, and missed both times. The bottle shattered in the basin. Shards and chips of glass mixed with the brown, syrupy liquid. The Captain leaned over the basin and stared into his own dim reflection.
“Right through him,” the Captain said almost in a whisper.
“Yes. Maybe I am twisting the memories, maybe it didn’t happen. Maybe the figure didn’t really exist and my mind just made a story to deal with the trauma. It was so unreal. Captain, if I may ask, what are your thoughts? ”
“I do not doubt that what you have told me is true.” The Captain pulled another bottle from the cabinet, uncorked the bottle of brown liquid and poured it onto the gauze. He removed one of the blood soaked bandages on Kosai’s shoulder and applied the fresh gauze to the open wound. Kosai cringed. The Captain then gently wrapped the white cloth around his son’s shoulder. “Your wounds testify to the honesty of your story.” The Captain padded the blood that slowly seeped through the bandage with a cloth and then wrapped it again. “In the past, I have had no reason to doubt the orders of the Council. Countless times their orders have saved my men and protected caravans. But now, with the daily ambushes, you strapped to a table with severe bite wounds and scratches to your left arm and a broken back, the hooded figure...” The Captain stood still and stared blankly at Kosai’s shoulder.
“What are you saying Captain?”
“I’m saying things are not matching up. The Council is responsible for the caravan routes, assigning who guards the caravans, and how many guards to be on the escort. As of late, numbers required to escort the carvans has been dwindling. It would be no surprise to me that ambushes would occur more frequently, but they occur daily!
“It is either that the caravans have always been watched by nomads and the number of guard dissuaded them attacking, or the trade routes are being compromised to the tribes. This hooded figure, the lack of men ordered to protect the caravan, the sand storm, it seems to point to a set up. My gut twists and turns at the thought that someone within the council, slimy as they are, would betray us.”
“Then you are thinking a council member is behind the ambush,” Kosai said softly.
“It is a thought, and only that. Perhaps it is a slight suspicion. Perhaps someone actually is betraying the routes. This is not the first time I have seen one of my guards on a table as you are. Many times they come here only to be buried. The most I could do without being seen as a fanatic is to express my frustration to the Council for their poor choice in orders and attempt to persuade them to trust my judgment in the future. Perhaps my anger will draw out some additional information. I want to know their reasons for sending so few men.” The Captain put the roll of white cloth and empty vile back into the cupboard, and rotated Kosai so that he lay upright.“Continue to rest. I will return in a while with news.”
“Father, there was one other thing,” Kosai said. At the word ‘father’, the countenance of the Captain changed. His eyes softened and he leaned over Kosai, stroking his black hair. He was no longer the stern leader of the Barracks, but a concerned parent.
“What is it?” he said softly.
“Today, I – I felt fear. I was close to death, I think. Your training helped keep me alive.” The Captain smiled in response. “But when I was coming back from the caravan, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I will be a part of the Guard next year and I think it’s time I knew about who she was.”
At the word ‘her’ the kind emotional father was gone. The Captain stood up straight and retracted his hand.
“I have told you many times Kosai. That woman is best left alone and forgotten. She doesn’t matter anymore.”
“But she matters to me,” Kosai said weakly. “You haven’t told me anything about her. What was her name, her hair color, what did she do, what was she like.”
“Kosai!” the Captain barked, and then calmed himself. “I will have no more of it. As your father, I ask you not to bring her up again and to forget all desires to know more about her. As your commanding officer, I am ordering you to never bring her up again in my prescence.”
“Yes sir,” Kosai said, looking down at the floor.
“Good boy,” the Captain said as bent over and kissed Kosai on the forehead. When the Captain exited the room, another student of the Barracks stood at attention next to the door. The student turned to the Captain and saluted.
“How is he Captain?” the student asked. He was seventeen years old and slender. Tears were growing in his eyes. His name was Ulryck and he was Kosai’s closest friend in the Barracks. His muscles weren’t as sculpted as other students, but he proved himself in combat. Ulryck was also had a good heart and positive attitude which was something the Captain looked for in new recruits. Often after training, he was found helping new recruits become familiar with the Barracks, answering any questions they might have. If there was an assignment to be had, Ulryck was the first to volunteer. After landing a strike during training, he always asked if his sparring partner was fine.
Emblems of Power Page 3
