Knight of Valor: Knights of Valor

by Elizabeth Drake

  Sir Marcus dismounted and walked to the well. “Fouled by strong black magic. I can’t use it to make holy water.”

  “Then use what’s in my canteen.” Brelynn tossed it to him.

  “Even both of our canteens combined won’t be enough to purify this place.”

  “I’m sure you came across this in the lich’s lands. What did you do?”

  “I had a few options,” Sir Marcus said. “I could do a holy ritual. It took time to set up but purified the well and the surrounding area.”

  “Do it.”

  Sir Marcus shook his head. “It’s a big ritual and would take me a couple of days to prepare. Even if we ignore King Eli, which isn’t wise, we don’t have a couple of days before Calmont finds us.”

  “If you didn’t have that much time when you were hunting the lich, what would do?”

  “Arch-Mage Ndrek drained off enough of the magic that I could bless the well and cleanse the necromancy.”

  Brelynn studied the house of the dead woman and her two children. “What if I removed some of the dark magic that did this?”

  “Ndrek is a skilled wizard. One of dubious morals, but still skilled at ritual magic.”

  “I learned a bit about necromancy.”

  Sir Marcus raised a brow. “Too dangerous. This is a powerful spell, and while you may be strong enough to do it, you don’t have the experience.”

  “I won’t know until I try.”

  “I promised to get you to Aerius safely.”

  “And you vowed to oppose evil.”

  “It’s not worth the risk to you,” Sir Marcus said. “I will come back and free these souls after seeing you to Aerius.”

  Brelynn heard the woman’s soul crying, begging for release. Pleading to take the final walk with Mor and join her children. She remembered the souls back in Oskelez, but those she hadn’t been able to help.

  Before he could stop her, Brelynn walked to the Dragon Oak and concentrated as she opened the gates to her magic. It surged in response, rushing forward to obey her command. She used it to illuminate the dark magic, poking and prodding at the death spell.

  The dark magic recoiled from her only to slither forward again.

  She recognized the spell, but it was far larger than anything Arch-Grimveldt Korvar had ever forced her to cast.

  Sweat beaded on her brow as she channeled and controlled her magic. “It’s a powerful spell, and the necromancer that cast it used these peoples’ deaths to fuel it. Too big to just unravel. I might be able to smash it.”

  “What happens to the souls trapped?”

  She bit her lip. “I could try calling the magic, make it let go of the souls and come to me.”

  “Too risky,” Sir Marcus said. “I will come back and free them.”

  The dead woman’s prayers echoed through the silent morning.

  Brelynn walked over to her horse, rummaged through her backpack, and brought out one of the gold rings.

  “What are you doing?” Sir Marcus’s eyes widened as he sprinted towards her. “Brelynn, no!”

  She spread her arms and called the magic, calling hers and the dark magic that had seeped into the ground, into the buildings, and into the water. She commanded it, and the necromancy resisted at first, obeying the will of the one that had cast it.

  Pushing harder, she used her magic to burn through the shackles of the spell and free the darkness.

  It came.

  The magic raced to her as lightening would a metal pole. Brelynn screamed as the darkness slammed into her, the malevolent power filling her and threatening to consume her.

  She fought back against the black tide, digging her fists into her temples as she resisted its pull.

  “Brelynn, by the gods, talk to me!” Sir Marcus grabbed her and turned her around to face him.

  He radiated heat, thawing the ice creeping through her flesh, but she could see nothing beyond the blackness.

  Marcus held her tight, holy light filling him and washing over her. “Stay with me, Brelynn. Stay with me!”

  But the darkness fought back.

  Through the waves of necromancy, she glimpsed him and felt his arms wrapped around her.

  She thought of the children and how their mother had saved them from the spell.

  Tightening her arms around Marcus, Brelynn remembered him playing ball with the priest’s sons, the way he’d broken Mokkar Calmont’s hold over her, and how he’d saved Lucky. He’d protected her from Vokkun Rebecca, Ducard, and even her own spell. She loved his lopsided smile, the one he got when he was genuinely happy.

  Brelynn drew on that, on everything she felt for him, and she used it to shield her soul.

  The dark magic screamed.

  Brelynn summoned her fire and slammed it into the dark magic. She forced the necromancy back, but her magic weakened as the darkness tried to overwhelm it and her.

  With the last of her strength, she held the gold ring in her palm and rammed all the magic into it. Hers and the necromancy.

  Black fire swirled around her then was sucked into the ring.

  Dots pricked her vision, and the only thing that kept her standing was Marcus’s strong arms.

  But she’d done it. She had broken the spell.

  For the first time in her life, she had used her magic for good. Used it to help rather than hurt. Brelynn sagged against Sir Marcus.

  Exhausted. Cold. But happier than she could ever remember being.

  Chapter 26

  Marcus kept Brelynn standing as she gulped in air. She trembled from fear, cold, and exhaustion, and he tightened his arms around her as he steadied his own breathing.

  His pulse thudded in his ears, and Marcus touched his cheek to her temple as he thanked the gods she was still alive. He’d come close to losing her, too close.

  “I’m all right,” she whispered against his chest, and her teeth chattered from the remnants of the necromancer’s spell.

  “By Dracor’s fangs, you almost weren’t.” He pulled back from her so she had to meet his gaze. “Promise me you will never do something like that again.”

  “It was much worse than I thought.”

  “That wasn’t a promise.”

  A tired smile teased her lips. “Astute.”

  Shards of cold slithered through him, cold that had nothing to do with magic. He hugged her, holding her tightly as a strange desperation filled him. “I almost lost you. You have to be more careful.”

  She leaned against him, her head on his chest as he held her.

  A grin curved her lips. “I did it. I really did it.”

  Maybe, but the risk she’d taken stole his breath and shook him to his core. He never wanted to see her in such peril again. Never. “That was a lot of magic.”

  Her smile faded. “Whatever necromancer did that is powerful. Very powerful.”

  But she’d still broken the spell. Her magic was growing. Marcus wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

  He peered down at the gold ring. “Is that what you did with the magic?”

  She nodded and took a leather pouch out of her pack. She waved her hand over the ring, and it melted into pale pink crystals. Opening the pouch, she added the magic crystals to the rest she carried.

  Marcus’s eyes widened. “That’s worth a king’s ransom.”

  “It’s not much good unless you can use it, and I’m terrible at imbuing things with useful magic like your armor has. About all I can do is stuff the magic into a prepared vessel, then destroy the vessel to get the magic out in crystal form.”

  “That’s still impressive.” Marcus understood what a difficult spell it was, one not even Arch-Mage Ndrek had mastered. His Oskelesian sorceress surprised him again.

  Brelynn tucked the bag away. “I practiced hard to learn the spell because I liked turning necromancy into something that’s not horrible.”

  “That is a neat trick. The elves used crystals like those to make my armor.”

  “Elves are better than most at extracting ma
gic, and elven-made armor is the best there is.”

  “Been wearing it a long time. It’s useful.”

  “I suppose it is.” She closed her eyes and leaned against him.

  He held her, stroking her hair as he listened to her quiet breathing and the returning birdsong. She felt good in his arms, warm and right. He touched his temple to the top of her head and allowed himself to enjoy having her safe beside him.

  Chapter 27

  As the sun rose higher, Sir Marcus led Brelynn over to the horses then left her there while he examined the contaminated well.

  Brelynn missed his warmth and protective embrace, but necromancy still polluted Three Rivers, and Sir Marcus had vowed to cleanse it.

  As tired as she was, her magic still swelled as her Knight of Valor kept his promise.

  He was amazing.

  Far better than the stories.

  Sir Marcus paused as he checked on her. “Bastion will watch over you while you rest.”

  Brelynn eyed the white charger who nudged her. “You’re not supposed to tell him.”

  Bastion nudged her again.

  “Tell me what?” Sir Marcus asked as he brought up water from the well.

  “Nothing.” Brelynn offered an apple to Bastion and another to Rocky.

  “The priest didn’t give us apples.”

  She shrugged, and another apple appeared in her hand. Bastion lipped it out, then nudged her for another.

  “I’m not sure conjured food is good for a horse,” Sir Marcus said.

  “I tried telling him that.” Brelynn leaned her back against a tree. “I figure it won’t hurt Rocky, but when Rocky gets an apple, Bastion wants one.”

  “Of course he does.” Sir Marcus hid a smile and turned his attention to his prayers.

  As Sir Marcus cleansed Three Rivers, Lucky settled next to Brelynn, nudging her hand to pet his scruffy head. She rubbed his ears and relaxed against the tree, letting the sun warm her.

  When she glanced up again, Sir Marcus’s armor gleamed in the dawn light as he infused the water with the blessing of the gods. He then scattered that water through the village, banishing the dark magic’s taint and putting the souls to rest.

  This was him, she realized, a Knight of Valor to his core. His faith was genuine as was his desire to spread the gods’ light. He would do it while reaping the glory of slaying an infamous lich, and he would rescue the forgotten souls of a tiny village.

  Her heart squeezed as she burned the image of him, tall and broad, armor shining in the sun, into her brain.

  A Knight of Valor.

  The Hero of Tamryn.

  A man true to his faith and willing to give his own life to save his people.

  That was Sir Marcus Valerian.

  Any familiarity or companionship between them would disappear once they reached Aerius. He would return to his world of light, and she would never see him again.

  Sadness weighed on her.

  She had the moment, only the moment, but it was more than she’d ever had. More than an Oskelesian sorceress ever should have.

  She wished-

  Brelynn quieted the thought. If wishes were flowers, she’d be swimming in petals.

  A rustle drew her attention, and a flock of white ravens descended on the dead Dragon Oak. Their sharp eyes fixed on Sir Marcus.

  Brelynn felt the whisper of the dead woman’s soul saying goodbye. She was going to her children at long last.

  One raven disappeared into the warm morning sun.

  “May Mor guide you to your little ones,” Brelynn said.

  Another raven took flight, and Brelynn hugged Lucky. Even if Mokkar Calmont caught her and sacrificed her, at least she’d helped these souls. Neither he nor Arch-Grimveldt Korvar could undo this bit of good she’d done.

  Brelynn smiled at the Dragon Oak.

  Even in its twisted state, it was beautiful. The children had liked to play by the tree, sitting under its branches for picnics. They would never know another sunny afternoon, but it was a nice final resting spot.

  Brelynn took out her trowel, and with a flick of her wrist, set it to digging. She then relaxed, letting the sun warm her as she dosed.

  When Sir Marcus finished the cleansing, he joined Brelynn and patted Lucky on the head. “I don’t sense the evil now, do you?”

  Lucky licked Sir Marcus’s hand and thumped his tail on the ground.

  Brelynn blinked the sleep from her eyes, and the same warmth from earlier filled her when she saw him.

  By the Twins, she was in trouble. But then the Twin Goddesses of Love were always trouble.

  Shoving aside the feelings, she stared up at the empty dragon oak. “The souls are at peace. I made one promise though.”

  Sir Marcus glanced at the hole by the tree. He walked over to the trio of skeletons, laid down his cloak, and carefully slid it under them. He then gathered it up and laid it in the hole.

  Brelynn set the trowel to filling in the dirt. “Thank you for understanding.”

  “Thank you for reminding me how important a single life is.” He paused. “You’re not what I expected from a sorceress.”

  “How many others have you known?”

  “A few. All served the lich.”

  “I wonder if they were originally from Oskelez. Most of us don’t even try to escape. And if you try to and fail, the authorities parade your body through the streets as a warning.”

  “They must have amazing security. That’s a lot of powerful people to keep trapped.”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me if more escape than we know, but the Council of Seven uses fear to prevent most from trying. Still, the swamps around Oskelez are awful, and that’s before you factor in the mercenaries your master sends to catch you.”

  “You escaped.”

  Lucky laid his head in Brelynn’s lap, and she rubbed his ears. “I was scared enough to try and fortunate enough to have Mara’s help. Not sure what I would have done next if I hadn’t found Arch-Mage Ndrek.”

  “You left when you learned Calmont and Korvar planned to sacrifice you.”

  “The spell in Three Rivers was powerful necromancy, but nothing unusual. Arch-Grimveldt Korvar is into bad stuff by Oskelesian standards.”

  “You’ve seen a lot.”

  “Less than you.”

  “That’s still too much.” Sir Marcus laid his hand over hers. “That’s why I did what I did. So people like you could have good lives.”

  Her chest tightened as his sword calloused fingers closed around hers. The Twin Goddesses of Love had touched her. No point denying the truth.

  So be it.

  The Twins could’ve chosen someone far worse, and even though it would hurt more than a vampire bite when Sir Marcus returned to his world of light, she had the moment.

  Chapter 28

  Brelynn laid her head on Marcus’s shoulder as she studied Three Rivers. It was still a sad sight, but it no longer chilled her. The souls had departed, and the land would heal. It was more than could be said of Eskara and much better than Oskelez could dream of achieving.

  A faint breeze tousled her hair, and Brelynn smiled. “So now what?”

  “I’d like to find who did this, but they cast the spell some time ago. Calmont is after us, and we have a long trip to Aerius.”

  “The necromancer that cast it is still in the area if he’s using the trapped souls as a source of power for something else.”

  “As much as I want justice, getting you to safety is my top priority. And you’ve already risked too much.”

  “He’ll have escaped before you return.”

  “It’s a chance I have to take,” Sir Marcus said.

  “The next town over might know more about what happened here.”

  Sir Marcus pushed himself up to his feet and offered her his hand. “It’s not on our way.”

  “A little detour then.”

  “Calmont is searching for you.”

  She took his hand and let him help her to her feet. “I don’t
want to draw a vampire here, but a necromancer’s killing women and children. We can’t leave and hope the necromancer doesn’t move to another remote Tamryn village. Like the one with the priest and his family.”

  Marcus paused.

  “It’s the right thing to do, and you took vows about that.”

  “I never should’ve told you about those.” Marcus blew out a breath. “All right. We’ll see what we can find in the next village over, then we’re heading straight for Aerius. We make King Eli wait too long, and Calmont will be the least of our worries.”

  Brelynn climbed into her saddle. She glanced back at the burned village, and while sadness pressed against her, now there was peace.

  She would make sure it stayed that way.

  Sir Marcus and Brelynn entered the village of Woodfield a few miles away. It was little more than a cluster of houses, but there was a tavern. Studying the small village, Brelynn noticed the lack of a church, but more worrying were the brown and curling edges of the Dragon Oak’s leaves.

  She whispered a protection spell then followed Marcus into the tavern, hoping the barkeep would know what had happened in Three Rivers.

  Neither laughter nor conversation filled the inn as they entered. The patrons all focused on their glasses as if they had something they were trying to forget.

  No waitress greeted them, and even though it was midday, chairs had already been put up on several tables. The floors hadn’t been swept in a fortnight, and cobwebs gathered in the corners.

  A thin layer of dirt on the windows whispered the tavern hadn’t always been neglected.

  The patrons stayed silent as they studied Sir Marcus. He exchanged pleasantries with the barkeep and talked about the weather, the crops, and the muddy roads. Sir Marcus kept the conversation neutral, and after a few minutes, the handful of people in the tavern finished their ale and left.

  He never brought up Three Rivers directly, and it reminded Brelynn again of how long he’d spent in the lich’s lands. He knew how to get information, just as he had in Eskara.

  Sir Marcus leaned against the counter and surveyed the empty room. “Everything okay?”