Heirs of Prophecy

by M. A. Rothman

  Dad smiled wearily. “You’re right. I think my work is done for now. You take it from here. And enjoy your new equipment.”

  As he headed inside, the men surprised him by giving the master blacksmith a hearty cheer.

  Azazel

  Aaron enjoyed the next several days immensely, as they were spent in training with his new equipment. At first it was exhausting—for all of them—but by the third day, they had all gotten used to carrying the extra weight. By now Throll had declared him and Ohaobbok competent swordsmen, and the training sessions were getting even more advanced.

  But just as one of these sessions was winding down, Aaron’s communication ring begin to vibrate. It was a warning to be on the alert, which he knew would send the women and Zenethar to the cold storage room, where they would bar the door behind them. And then the sender of the message identified himself: Throll.

  Aaron looked over to see that, sure enough, the ranger was working his finger feverishly over the ring as he looked off down the road that led from town to the Lancaster house. A group of four soldiers dressed in black were approaching on horseback.

  His brother appeared at his side. Ryan had apparently gotten the message and had come quickly out of Throll’s library.

  “Ready yourself,” Aaron said.

  Ryan nodded, straightening up.

  Ohaobbok disappeared into the barn, then returned wearing his cloak, hood up, over his armor. As always, it would not do for an ogre to be seen here, especially by guardsmen.

  The riders stopped in the yard. As Aaron had expected, their chest plates bore the insignia of the wizard Azazel.

  The lead soldier looked haughtily down from his horse. “We are here to investigate the matter of a missing soldier.”

  Throll stepped forward. “We aren’t aware of any missing soldier, but perhaps we can help. Can you describe him?”

  The leader removed his helm, revealing a brutish face. He wiped his brow with the back of his gloved hand. “A soldier dressed in black. He was scheduled to arrive at this house three days ago and report back immediately to the barracks.”

  “Barracks?” Throll said. “I have not been made aware of any barracks.”

  “You wouldn’t be aware of them, ranger. We have made our quarters at the inn. We’ve taken to calling them the barracks.” The man smiled threateningly. “We are many in number.”

  Aaron could see the ranger’s anger in the way Throll held himself, but when he spoke, his voice remained light. “In answer to your question, good soldier, I don’t recall seeing anyone dressed in black.”

  Throll turned to Ryan, Aaron, and Ohaobbok and made a show of asking each if they had seen anyone who matched the description. They all agreed they had seen no one.

  “You see?” Throll said to the leader. “We haven’t seen your missing soldier.” He then straightened up proudly. “But why, pray tell, would we have been graced with the presence of a soldier in the first place?”

  The leader ignored Throll’s question. “I understand the woman of your house has had a newborn. I would look upon the babe.” As he spoke, his companions made a show of loosening the swords in their scabbards.

  Aaron was amazed at how cool Throll remained under pressure. “I’m sorry,” he said evenly, “but my wife has gone to visit her sister with the baby.”

  The leader made a face as if to suggest he smelled a lie. “You won’t mind if we search your home then,” he growled.

  Aaron held his breath in anticipation of what his teacher might do next. Throll pondered his options for a moment, then apparently decided there was nothing more to be said, and drew his sword.

  Aaron and Ohaobbok did the same. Ryan stood with his hands out as if preparing to strike with his magic.

  “You will not be searching my home,” Throll said plainly. “We have committed no crime, so you have no cause. I suggest you leave my property.”

  The riders all drew their swords as well, the metal flashing in the sunlight, and the four horses pranced in fear, sensing the danger. Aaron gritted his teeth, trying to recall everything the ranger had taught him about battling multiple foes.

  Just then the front door flew open, and to Aaron’s great dismay, out strolled Sloane. Go back inside, he thought. You’ll only get in the way. But then he saw what she was up to. Behind the girl was Silver, looking menacing as ever. And when the cat took notice of the soldiers, he let loose with a low growl.

  The horses backed away, their heads bobbing nervously. If they were uneasy before, the beasts were frightened now.

  Silver stalked closer, apparently sensing his advantage, and let out an ear-splitting yowl.

  Two of the horses nearly threw their riders. It was all the men could do to keep their mounts under control.

  The leader passed his gray eyes over the scene, apparently weighing the odds. It seemed to Aaron that perhaps this man had been prepared to fight when the numbers were even, but with the addition of the growling swamp cat, his calculations changed.

  “This does not end here, ranger,” he growled at last. And turning his horse toward town, he galloped away, his men trailing behind him.

  The moment the soldiers were out of sight, Throll turned on his daughter. “Why would you leave the house?” he barked. “You heard the signal, and you know what it calls for. What is wrong with you?”

  Sloane’s lower lip began to quiver. “I’m sorry—I didn’t know there was a signal. I’ve been cleaning the pots in the kitchen. I take the ring off when I’m doing the washing.”

  “And yet you’re wearing it now,” Throll pointed out, one eyebrow raised.

  Tears formed in Sloane’s big brown eyes. “I put it on after I dried off my hands. I’m so sorry, Father!”

  Aaron wasn’t sure if he believed her, but Throll slumped, shook his head, and pulled his sobbing daughter into an embrace.

  “I’m sorry. It was bad luck, I suppose. But from now on, it’s essential that you keep your ring on your finger at all times.”

  The girl nodded, her face pressed into her father’s chest.

  At that moment Dad came galloping into the yard, looking beside himself with worry.

  “What happened?” he called down from his horse. “I came as soon as I could.”

  Throll cast a grim look at his friend. “We were visited by soldiers. We had a standoff. It seems safe to anticipate that we will soon have a fight on our hands.”

  “Then let’s call a meeting,” Dad said.

  “Agreed.”

  Soon all the members of the household were assembled in the dining room, except for Ohaobbok, who insisted on keeping watch outside, claiming his eyes were the best.

  “I seriously can’t believe that didn’t end in a fight,” Aaron said. “If Silver hadn’t spooked the horses, I think it would have.”

  “And at some point, perhaps soon, it will,” Throll said. He placed his hand on his wife’s shoulder and looked her in the eye. “They asked about Zenethar, my dear.”

  Gwen clutched the baby close to her chest. She understood exactly what that meant. Her worst fears had been confirmed.

  “They’re going to return,” Dad said, “and with more men this time. Let’s assume at least twice as many.”

  “How are we going to hold them off?” Mom asked.

  “Aaron and Ohaobbok have become quite skilled with their swords,” Dad said calmly. “And more importantly, the soldiers don’t know about Ryan’s power or my own. ” He turned to Ryan and Aaron. “You won’t hear me say this often, boys, but I want you to show these men no mercy. They will show you none in return. If we’re visited by the number of troops I expect, you must hit them hard. If it helps, imagine that they’re trying to hurt your mother, or Sloane, or Zenethar. Because they are.”

  “You mean you want us to kill them?” Ryan asked breathlessly.

  “If it comes to that,” Dad said.

  Aaron felt fear well up in him. He’d practiced with the sword for this very purpose—to fight. But he’d nev
er killed a man, and wasn’t eager to do so.

  “Jared,” said Mom, “do you really think it’s appropriate to—”

  Gwen put a hand on hers. “Jared is right,” she said. “We have no choice but to regard these soldiers as killers. There can only be one reason they were asking about the baby. They want to finish what the assassin failed to do.”

  “Actually… I think they want to take him to the fountain to verify his capacity for magic first,” Ryan said.

  “What makes you think that?” Dad asked.

  “Because I’m almost certain that’s where Azazel’s soldiers were taking me when you rescued me from them.”

  “We cannot allow that to happen,” Throll said. “We cannot allow them to come anywhere near my son.”

  “What do you propose?” Dad asked.

  “I fear we’ll be given little time to prepare. I propose we begin those preparations now.”

  The next minutes were a buzz of activity. The Rivertons all made sure to get something to eat, so that their abilities would be at maximum capacity, and Mom gave everyone flasks containing healing draughts. Then the women barred themselves in the basement with Zenethar, and the men and Ohaobbok took up positions all around the house. Silver paced back and forth in the yard, preparing himself for the coming battle.

  But despite their rush to get into place, the next two hours passed uneventfully. The only traffic on the road was a pair of farmers driving their ox-drawn wagons into town.

  And then Aaron felt a message come through on his ring.

  Ryan. Large group on road north.

  Aaron squinted toward the north. There was a hint of dust kicking up over the road. He and the other men joined up at Ryan’s position.

  Then another message came through on their rings.

  Gwen here. I love you. Do what must do.

  That was followed by:

  Aubrey. And be careful.

  The cloud soon revealed a parade of armored foot soldiers flanked by two men on horseback.

  “I count twenty,” Ohaobbok said.

  “Remember, boys,” said Throll. “Wait for my signal. But once the fight starts, do not hold back. This will be life or death.”

  “It would be my pleasure to dig twenty graves tonight,” Ohaobbok grunted.

  Silver must have felt the tension in the air, for the cat swished his tail and let out a low growl.

  The soldiers approached the farmhouse in three rows of six, with the other two soldiers riding horseback at the vanguard. The vanguard carried crossbows; the rest had swords.

  The lead soldiers appeared to have eyes only for Silver. Their fear and hesitation were evident, and when the great cat growled, they stepped back.

  But not the vanguard. They raised their crossbows and took aim directly at Silver. Aaron felt helpless to stop them.

  “Take out the crossbows,” Dad called to Ryan. “Now!”

  Dad and Ryan both sent streams of energy at the enemy. Ryan’s stream was thin and precise, incinerating one crossbow and making its holder scream and bat his smoldering hands against his tunic. Dad’s stream, as usual, was far less controlled. It not only vaporized the crossbow, it tore a hole right through the soldier that had been carrying it.

  Aaron stepped forward and bared his teeth, readying himself for his part in this battle. Eighteen armed soldiers still stood before them, and it would be up to him, Ohaobbok, and Throll to handle them.

  And Silver. As Throll called the charge, the great cat leapt on the nearest soldier, pinning him to the ground. Blood sprayed everywhere as the Silver bit down on the soldier’s neck. Another soldier lunged at Silver from behind, but Ohaobbok was already there, and with a single swipe of his glowing sword, he sliced the man completely in half. At the same moment, he took a blow from another enemy, but the soldier’s sword merely sparked as it glanced off the shoulder of Ohaobbok’s armor.

  Aaron was just raising his sword to strike Ohaobbok’s attacker when a torrent of energy charred his target with white-hot magic. Aaron looked back, only to see another black-armored soldier bearing down on his brother.

  “Ryan, look out!” he shouted.

  Ryan tumbled out of the way, and Aaron ran toward his brother’s attacker, taking out the man’s leg with an expertly placed swing. The soldier fell to the ground, and Aaron quickly ended him.

  “You’re welcome,” Aaron said.

  “We’re even,” Ryan responded.

  Aaron turned back to the fight, where Throll and Ohaobbok had already dispatched several soldiers. The two great warriors stood back to back in the center of a throng, enemies advancing on them from all sides. Aaron marveled at the deft coordination with which the ranger and the ogre worked. They took several blows to their armor, but the metal held up easily. The same could not be said for the armor of the enemy. Ohaobbok sliced through two men with one great stroke from his magical broadsword, and Throll dueled with three at once.

  Silver leapt onto the back of another soldier, and Ryan sent an energy stream at three soldiers standing outside the fray. At almost the same moment, Dad sent a ball of energy after five soldiers who’d begun to retreat. The men were reduced to ashes in an instant.

  And just like that, the battle ended. The enemy soldiers all lay dead.

  Aaron let his sword come to rest at his side. He felt thrilled and yet somehow empty for not having made a greater impact in the battle. It seemed to him that as long as his brother and father were around, swordplay might not be so necessary.

  Dad was the first to speak. “Is everyone okay?”

  “I expect I’ll have many bruises,” Ohaobbok said, “but this armor protected me well.”

  “Same here,” Throll said.

  Aaron took inventory of himself. “I don’t think anyone even touched me.”

  He felt his ring vibrate as his dad beat a message in code.

  Jared. Fight is over. Everyone okay. Will meet you in the dining room. Am hungry.

  The reply came quickly.

  Gwen. Feast for all my boys.

  Throll laughed. “That sounds fine to me. Though it might be best to bury the dead before we eat.”

  Aaron grumbled at the thought of more hard labor, to say nothing of the gruesome nature of such work.

  “I have a better idea,” Dad said. “If everyone could just gather the bodies into a pile, I can give them a funeral pyre.”

  Aaron joined the others in dragging soldier after soldier to the edge of the yard, where they were stacked in a haphazard heap. When they’d finished, Ohaobbok added the two dead horses to the twenty dead soldiers.

  “Stand back,” Dad said.

  Aaron braced for what he knew was coming. Dad’s body grew rigid, and then a stream of blinding energy erupted from him, a blazing column of flame that engulfed the pile. Every ounce of flesh was quickly consumed by the pillar of hellfire. Even standing a hundred yards away, Aaron felt the heat.

  When the torrent of destruction had run its course, all that remained was ashes, and the wind made quick work of these.

  “That was unbelievable, Dad,” Ryan said, his eyes wide. “I had no idea you could hold that much energy.”

  Dad looked tired, almost hollowed out. “I didn’t know either, but I wanted to see.”

  He spoke lightly, casually, but to Aaron, it seemed that his father’s tone was one of mourning.

  As he awaited word from the boy, Azazel peeled one of the prickly fruit he so enjoyed. A fruit that came from a plant that bloomed only once every fifteen years. He savored the juices all the more for their rarity.

  Just as the wizard took his first bite, the boy arrived. An ugly boy, his teeth stained and cracked, crooked and jutting out at odd angles. Azazel cringed at the sight of him.

  “Well, boy?” the wizard said darkly. “What have you to say?”

  The boy stammered, obviously intimidated. “Your Highneth, I am your thpy in the thity of Aubgherle. My name ith Dominic.”

  Azazel rolled his eyes. Ugly and plagued with
a lisp. Where do I find such recruits? He motioned for the boy to continue.

  “I have trained the birdth, ath you requethted,” Dominic said. “They led me to the houth of the baby who lit the fountain.”

  “Yes, yes,” Azazel said, growing impatient. “I have already dispatched a force to deal with the problem. This is not news.”

  The boy looked panicked. “Tholdierth!” he quailed. “Mithing tholdierth! They went to the Protector’th home to collect the baby, and they never came back.”

  Azazel paused. “You’re telling me that my soldiers will not return?”

  Dominic nodded. “Yeth, my Lord!”

  Interesting. It had already come as a surprise that his assassin had failed—a trained assassin was normally all that was required. Now the larger force had failed him as well?

  “Are you sure the soldiers are missing?” Azazel asked. “How can you be certain they have not simply moved on to other matters?”

  “They thtayed at my father’th inn. We made room for many tholdierth. None returned. We have not theen them for theveral dayth. I came as thoon as I could.”

  Azazel nodded. “You did well. Leave me. I have a visitor to attend.”

  It’s time to speak with Ellisandrea.

  More than a week had gone by without further incident, and Ryan was actually beginning to feel that the battle might have put an end to their misfortunes. Throll had used his contacts in the town to spread word that all of Azazel’s soldiers had disappeared. Nobody in town seemed to be in a big rush to find them, and no new soldiers rushed in to take their place.

  It was a lazy mid-afternoon with almost everyone at home except Dad, who’d gone to work at the smithy. Throll was at the dining room table, poring over a thick book on history, while Ryan carefully flipped through the notes he’d taken based on some of his experiments and compared them to what had been noted in some of Throll’s ancient books on wizardry.