The Dragon Blade

by P D Atkerson

  He felt very out of place. The man was nice, but in the back of his mind, fear told him not to trust him. For all Aroron knew, the man worked for King Munay. He didn't know anything about him.

  Finally, the man found two clean bowls, filled them and brought them to the table.

  "Don't burn yourself," he said, handing Aroron the bowl of soup.

  Aroron thanked him and began to spoon it into his mouth.

  The hot soup felt amazing on his sore throat! It wasn't the best tasting soup, but it didn't taste like dirt either, so that was good. He hadn't expected much from the woodsman.

  The man wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked up at Aroron. "So, what's your name, kid? If you're going to eat my food, I might as well know your name."

  He waited a second and looked at the man. What could the man do? There were quite a few Arorons in Karlay. It was a popular name. "Aroron, sir," he said, then he continued to eat. He really hated talking about himself and he hoped this man would drop it.

  He didn't.

  "Aroron, huh...? You're Karlien?" Aroron nodded his head, as he slurped down more soup. "Do you have any family nearby, Aroron?"

  Aroron shook his head. "No, I've got no one left," he mumbled. "Everyone else is dead." Including my uncle. Aroron didn't know for sure. But his gut told him King Munay wouldn't let Trot get away with helping him escape.

  For a minute, an awkward silence filled the cabin and Aroron began to wish the man would continue to hound him with more questions.

  Aroron cleared his throat and glanced up at the man. "What's your name?"

  The man smiled and seemed to be glad to not just sit there and stare at each other.

  "Hunter," he said, shoving his empty bowl aside. "So, what made you want to try and make it through the Dubh-Woods on foot?"

  Aroron looked at the man and decided not to tell him he'd started out with a horse. He still didn't really know anything about him. As much as he could, he was going to keep his secrets. "It really wasn't that bad at first. Nothing compared to getting out of the Dark Castle. That was a big pain."

  Hunter stiffened and picked his spoon back up. He held it so tightly, Aroron wondered if he was going to snap it in half. "So, you're from the Dark Castle?" Hunter asked, squeezing even tighter. The veins in his hand bulged.

  Aroron dropped his hand to his side and realized, he wasn't carrying his sword anymore! Where did it go? How was he going to defend himself now?

  Aroron's heart started to thud in his chest.

  It was obvious this man didn't like the Dark Castle. King Munay probably killed someone he cared about. The likelihood was very high. I've got to make sure he knows I don't like King Munay either. Aroron swallowed. "Yes, but it really wasn't my choice. My mother died when I was little, and I had no other choice but to live there with my fath... father." Stupid! He shouldn't have said anything about his father. What if he asks why my father lived there? What the heck am I going to tell him? Not the truth, that was for sure.

  Hunter's eyes darted around the room and finally rested on Aroron. "Why'd your father live there?" He asked, leaning forwards.

  "I'd rather not talk about him," Aroron mumbled, dropping his gaze to the table. "We weren't super close, but it's still hard to talk about losing him."

  Hunter nodded. "Alright. So, what happened to make you leave? I don't think you'd just wander into the Dubh-Wood for no reason." Couldn't this guy give Aroron a break? Why did he care so much?

  "I couldn't stay there anymore," Aroron whispered. "Not after that devil killed my father, all because... well, I don't want to talk about why," he said, looking away again. "All you need to know is, King Munay killed my father and I was no longer welcome in the Dark Castle."

  Hunter smiled, sadly. "I understand how you feel. I... I lost everything to him," he whispered, clearing his throat. "Well, an enemy of Munay, is a friend of mine." He frowned. "Why were you running if your father's dead and he was the one King Munay was after?"

  Aroron snorted. "That's easy, because King Munay wants me dead too." Ugh! Why was he telling the man all of this? He just needed to keep his mouth shut!

  Hunter spat on the ground and kicked the side of the table. His golden eyes flashing. "So, Munay's hunting children now, is he? The coward!" He hissed, kicking the table again. "He never did his own dirty work anyways. Always had his 'Loyal Warriors' doing it. What other children is he hunting like animals?"

  Aroron shook his head. "No, one. It's just me."

  For a second Hunter just stared at Aroron. "What did you do?"

  Aroron looked up at Hunter. He didn't know why, but for a moment, he felt he could trust this man. That was a feeling he hadn't thought he'd feel aside from his father and Trot. But his feelings and his head were fighting. He couldn't tell this man everything, but at the same time he wanted to. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who wasn't involved in it. But finally, his head out weighed his feelings.

  "I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, that's all," Aroron mumbled. And had the wrong sword. Now, after everything, it was gone. Maybe I'll go back and try to find it. Then again, Loyal Warriors are going to be all over the place.

  Hunter raised an eyebrow. "So, it didn't have anything to do with that sword of yours? It seems like something King Munay would want."

  Aroron jumped to his feet, his eyes wide and his heart started to beat faster than he could keep up. He placed his hands on the edge of the table and tried to slow his breathing down. "You know where my sword is? Where is it?!" Hunter picked up his jacket and placed it on the table. It clanked against the wood. My sword!

  Aroron quickly reached for it, but Hunter placed his hand on top of the sword and held it down.

  "Hang on. This isn't a toy, you know that, right kid?" He asked, looking Aroron straight in the eye. "You shouldn't carry something like this around. If it's as valuable as I think, it's going to be a long time before Munay stops looking for it. Besides, you never know when someone unsavory might see it and try to take it from you."

  "You mean, someone like you?!" Aroron asked, glaring at Hunter. There was no way he was going to let this man take his sword. Not after everything he'd been through because of it.

  Hunter didn't even so much as blink at Aroron's outburst. He just sighed and sat back down, keeping his hand on the sword. "I'm just trying to help you."

  Aroron dug his nails into the table. "Well, I don't care! I'm not going to leave it behind!"

  "And I'm not saying you should," Hunter calmly responded. "I'd just hate to see you get hurt, because you're carrying a sword around you really shouldn't be. No one your age should have something like this," he said. "Just let me help you, Aroron. If someone saw this sword, they're not going to forget it."

  "Fine!" Aroron snapped, throwing himself back into the chair. He crossed his arms and glared at Hunter. "How are you going to help me?"

  "We just have to change what it looks like," he said, then he moved behind the curtain and came back out carrying a bag, which he tossed onto the table. He pulled out a small roll of leather and sat back down.

  Aroron watched as Hunter carefully began to wrap the leather around the hilt of the sword. He did it slowly. Covering up the silver and jewels embedded into it, perfectly. Aroron wondered how many times he'd done something like this before.

  Once he was done with it, he grabbed one of the empty bowls and took out a small pouch from the bag. He poured a brown powder out of the pouch into the bowl, then added a small amount of water and after mixing it up, he began to wipe the paste onto the blade of the sword.

  When he was done, the sword looked old and rusty.

  "There," he said, holding the sword out to Aroron. "It won't be easy, but you'll be able to clean it up if you want to. But I wouldn't suggest it, unless you want someone to recognize it.

  Aroron took the sword and stared down at it. "How'd you do that?" He asked, glancing back up at Hunter. He did act like he wanted to help Aroron. It was strange.

 
Hunter shrugged. "Just part of my job."

  For a second Aroron thought about asking the man what his job was but decided against it. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. not yet, anyway. Aroron looked at Hunter. "Why do you wear that mask?" The question came out, before he even realized he was asking.

  Hunter looked at him and his golden eyes burned into Aroron. "Because, I only show my face when I want to scare children away from my cabin. It's not a pleasant sight," he said, then he laughed, and his body relaxed. "But really, my face was burned a long time ago and left scars. I just don't care to show it to everyone.

  Burned? "Did King Munay do it to you?"

  Hunter laughed. "You remind me of my wife. She was very blunt too."

  "What happened to her?" Aroron asked.

  "She...she died," Hunters said, slowly, as if it hurt just saying the words. "It was a long time ago, but it's still painful at times. I wasn't even there when it happened. I still miss her."

  "I know what you mean. Losing my mother was a long time ago, but it's just as hard to think about as my father's death," Aroron said, sighing. "And now I've got no one."

  Hunter smiled, his eyes lighting up. "That gives me an idea. I could use your help around here with my work, if you wanted to stay here."

  Aroron frowned. "What do you do?"

  Hunter laughed. "I guess you'll have to stick around to find out."

  Chapter 13

  Maneuvering

  King Munay paced up and down the length of his throne room. Running a knife through his finger nails. He knew it was a bad habit, he might cut off one of his fingers. But right then he didn't care. All he cared about was news from Kant. There had to be something! He couldn't have just vanished!

  The boy had been gone for over a month and still he'd heard nothing of him. Munay knew he had to have survived the Dubh-Woods, no it would have been too easy if he'd died there. Fate wouldn't let him off that easily. He'd made it to the other side. That much Munay was sure of.

  But now, where was he? That was the question that nagged at the back of Munay's mind. What was he missing? There had to be a clue somewhere as to where the boy had hidden himself. King Munay gritted his teeth, then spun around again and began to pace the other way.

  "Why?" King Munay mumbled to himself, as he slid the knife back into his belt. "Why couldn't he have died like his father! Will I never be rid of him?"

  Munay jumped, at the groaning of the throne room doors as they were thrown open. The guards didn't even notice, as a little boy of about five came running in. A Maid came in after him. King Munay gritted his teeth. Was there no where he could go to be alone?!

  "Theo!" The Maid hissed, as she ran towards the boy. The second she passed the guards, they stood at attention. They wouldn't make a move, unless the woman proved a threat to the king. "You fool!" The Maid said, swatting the boy. "No one is allowed in here without being asked. And..." She went on, but King Munay covered his ears and heard no more of what she was saying. Her voice grated on his nerves. Why was everyone testing his patience today? First Kant, now this!

  King Munay stifled a growl, as the doors opened again, this time the person waited for permission to enter. "Ah! Lord Dasety, please take care of my guests," Munay said, motioning to the woman and child.

  "See what you've done?" The woman hissed.

  "But I wanted to meet the king!" The boy yelled, as he yanked himself free from the woman's grasp and ran towards Munay. The guards nearest to him drew their swords. For a second King Munay thought about signaling to the guard but decided against it. The last thing he needed was a rebellion on his hands.

  "I'm sorry, my lord," Dasety said. Pressing his lips tightly together as he slowly stepped forwards into the throne room. "I tried to stop them, but as you can see, they're both unruly."

  "It's quite alright," Munay said, smiling. "Best run along to your mother." With that he patted the boy on the head and waved him off to the woman. "Now Dasety, please remedy the problem and escort these dear people out." Dasety bowed and ushered them out.

  Once they were outside, Dasety closed the door and turned back to King Munay. "That was very kind of you, my lord," Dasety said, raising an eyebrow.

  "Yes. You act surprised," King Munay said. "Now, what was the reason you've come here?" He asked.

  "Kant has returned, my lord," Dasety said. "I was sent to inform you. He's waiting outside," he said, pointing towards the side door.

  "Good!" King Munay said, a smile spreading across his face. "Let him in and be quick about it."

  Dasety hurried to the door and opened it. He stepped out and mumbled something to someone. He returned, with Kant in tow.

  King Munay calmly walked over and sat down on his throne. He slowed his breathing, trying to keep himself from strangling the news out of the Warrior.

  "Come!" King Munay said, motioning for Kant to move forwards.

  Kant swallowed as he knelt before the throne, he glanced towards the guards standing next to the throne and doorways. Being a throne room guard was an honor, but it came at a price. Metal dragon wings clung to the sides of the guards' faces, where their ears should have been. Kant grimaced at the thought of how painful it must have been.

  "Well? What news do you have?" King Munay growled, gritting his teeth as he crossed his arms.

  Kant stayed kneeling, as he looked up towards the king. "I have spoken to all of my contacts in both Drinadad and Shenock. No one's heard a thing of the boy."

  "No one?" King Munay asked, his eyes flashing red. King Munay lunged forwards and grabbed Kant around the neck. Kant's eyes bulged and fear clutched his chest, as King Munay yanked him to his feet, still tightly gripping his neck as his eyes bore into him. "No one?" He hissed again. "I should turn you to ashes!"

  "Please, my lord. It would be unwise to kill him," Dasety said, motioning to Kant. "You already go through so many Warriors, you don't need to kill them yourself."

  Flames licked between King Munay's fingers. He took in a deep breath and let go, letting his hands fall back to his side. "Alright," he whispered. "What else do you know?" King Munay asked, leaning back against the throne. Once again, his face was perfectly calm.

  Kant cleared his throat, and he took a step back, as he massaged his neck. "I believe that if we just give it a little more time, Aroron will slip up."

  King Munay's body bristled. "Do not speak his name!" He hissed, digging his nails into the side of his throne. If this kept up much longer, he was going to have to repolish it.

  "I'm sorry," Kant said, swallowing. "Is there anything else you want to know?"

  "Yes," Munay said, leaning forwards. "What of Enrick? Did he come back with you, or is he still looking for the boy?"

  "Prince Enrick is still out there, looking for him. I believe he thinks if he helps find him, maybe you'll let him live."

  King Munay rolled his eyes, as he sat back again, looking down at his nails filled with black dust. "Do not tell me what my son is thinking, Kant. I know him better than you!" He said, as he brushed his hands against his pants.

  "I'm sorry my lord," Kant said, quickly bowing. "Of course, you would."

  King Munay leaned his head back against his throne and looked up towards the broken windows. The boy was more powerful than he knew, he must have slipped up at some point. We just need to find out when. Or maybe... Yes, that might just work. King Munay sat up. "Alright... I suppose it's a good thing I had a backup plan to your futile endeavor," he spat. "Send out the messenger, you know what to have him say." For a second Kant just stood there. King Munay snapped his fingers. "Well? What are you waiting for, me to show you out? Go!"

  Kant saluted, then spun on his heels and almost ran towards the doors. Dasety came forwards to whisper something to King Munay, "What of the Heart?" Ah, yes! He'd nearly forgotten.

  "Oh, and Kant," King Munay called after him, just as he reached the door.

  Kant's back stiffened, as he turned back towards the king. "Yes, my lord?" He asked, his voice lightly shaki
ng.

  "I believe it's about time we use the weapon Shon was good enough to give us before all of this started." King Munay laughed. "Maybe we can kill Aroron with it, that seems only appropriate."

  "You mean the Heart?" Kant asked, the color draining from his face. "Are you sure that's a good idea? We still don't know how it works or how to use it."

  The humor left the king's face and he glared at Kant. "It's the oddest thing, I don't remember asking what you thought of using it!"

  "I'm sorry, my lord. I meant no disrespect," Kant said, bowing his head. Even across the throne room, Munay could see him swallow. Good! Munay hated the thought that his men might not fear him. If they didn't fear him, they might not obey him.

  "I would hope not," King Munay said, sneering. "When you're finished, bring it here to me. You are partly right, we won't use the Heart to its full power, yet. But we will use it to deal with another problem."

  Forcing a smile, Kant bowed again. Before the king could say more, he grabbed the door and darted out. The door thudded closed.

  King Munay leaned forwards and rubbed his chin. Maybe Kant was right. Maybe it wasn't time to use the Heart, after all he didn't know how it worked. Oh, well. They'd just have to give it a try.

  As if knowing what the king was thinking, Dasety stepped closer to the throne. "I think it's wise of you to use the Heart, my lord," Dasety said. "We still don't know much, imagine what we could learn from it."

  Munay nodded his head, as he sat back and sighed. "You're right, of course," he said, sighing. "If it does work, it won't be long before the whole world is mine."

  "And a better place the world will be because of it."

  King Munay just nodded his head, as he closed his eyes, resting his head back. All of a sudden, he was tired. It was probably all this talking and thinking about the boy. He opened his eyes and stared down at the ground. Was that where Shon had died? Yes, and a hundred other enemies. It was very different from the way the throne room had once been. Ozony would be sick at the thought of how many people had died in that room.