by J. M. Kearl
The other two draw their weapons. Boaden disappears and reappears to pull his dagger from the man’s chest.
“Magi!” the man closest to the door yells into the building.
Madison spells right in front of the man by the door and slides her blade across his throat. No half-moon tattooed on his face. On to the next. She pushes open the door and at least twenty of these raiders are armed and ready. A man standing on a table in the center has a pair of manacles in his hands. She recognizes the black metal. She steps out and backs toward Boaden. “There are more than I thought. They also have kirune.”
“How many?” Boaden asks, glancing over his shoulder. “Because more are coming from down the street.”
“At least twenty,” she says. Then she gets an idea. She opens her palm flat in front of her and fire ignites. “We’ll burn the building with them inside or they’ll come out to fight.”
Boaden looks down at her. “That’s a rough way to go.”
“We don’t have the luxury of being humane when they outnumber us by a large margin.” Being humane to men like this isn’t something she generally cares about but she says this for Boadens sake. She blows into the flames and the doors catch fire and the building rapidly begins to burn. The magic makes it burn hotter and faster and the men inside begin to shout.
“I’ll hold them off inside, you get the men down the street,” Madison says, standing ready with her sword.
A man comes running out the flamed entrance and his clothes catch fire. She swings her sword slicing him across the chest and he falls to the ground. Doing this twenty times over will be easy, and when nine men lay dead by the door with hardly a challenge, a large man bursts through the flames with an ax in hand. Her sword hits into his weapon but he’s strong and on fire, the heat of it licks at her skin. Before blisters can form she kicks him back into the side of the building but he comes at her even harder. Madison dives out of the way and rolls back onto her feet. She stretches her fingers toward him and an ice cold blast shoots toward the man, putting out the flames and freezing him solid. The ax hangs from the man's frozen fingertips, and when she pulls the handle, his hand snaps off.
No one else comes out, so she assumes they’re either dead or went out a window somewhere. Boaden is in heated battle with seven men. Nine of them are already down on the ground around him. Seconds later she’s at his side and cuts down a man unaware of her presence and then several raiders turn on her. She blocks their blows then three of them rush her at once. With no other choice, she spells away from them and sends a green orb into the sky, signaling for aid. The town’s people, men and women, are now stepping out of their homes armed and ready to fight Boaden and Madison.
It’s only moments later that Daelyn and Jordane appear out of the darkness at the end of the single path. They sprint full force in and Madison turns towards the townspeople, sword at the ready. Boaden finishes off the last of the raiders and stands beside her. Blood is splattered all over his face and his hair is disheveled. His breath comes heavy and he appears to be worn out. “We can’t kill all these people,” Boaden says almost breathless.
“Jordane and Daelyn are here,” she says, breathing hard herself. Fighting and using magic wears on the body. Fatigue is beginning to set in her arms from swinging the sword.
“We can’t wipe out an entire village,” Boaden says, pointing into the crowd.
Daelyn and Jordane arrive at their sides. Jordane looks at Madison. “There are at least fifty and --”
“Children,” Daelyn says her voice wavering slightly.
“How do you propose we stop them Boaden?” Madison says sharply. “Decide quickly, because they’ll be within range in about fifteen seconds.”
Daelyn steps up and holds both hands in front of her; and a wall of sand begins to form. She pushes it forward and the town’s people run into it screaming. She pushes it forward even further and they’re driven backward.
Madison is amazed that Daelyn is able to do this given that she shouldn’t know it. Had Boaden showed her how to conjure while she was away?
“I can’t hold this much longer,” Daelyn says as her arms begin to shake.
Boaden grabs her wrist and lowers her hand. “That’s enough, we can go.”
Daelyn drops the wall and then her legs buckle. Boaden scoops her into his arms before she falls to the ground and they all run for their horses. Remembering they need proof, Madison skids to a halt. “We have to bring the head of the leader.”
Boaden curses. “I haven’t seen him.”
Just as he says that, a man walks through the falling sand wall, ax in hand, scowling with rage. “I’ll get him,” Madison says and takes off before anyone can argue.
“Madison, wait!” Jordane shouts and chases after her.
An electric volt propels from Madison’s hand at the man and he dives out of the way.
“I’ve dealt with your kind before,” the man says running toward her.
They clash weapons and Madison is knocked back from his strength and nearly loses her sword. Hands stinging from the blow, she circles around him, assessing. He outweighs her by a hundred pounds at least, and towers over her in height. Speed will be her only advantage, and magic. A small smile plays at her lips when she thinks of a hex for this baby killer.
He swings his ax and she dodges to the left and upswings her own weapon, it catches his shoulder. He winces and pulls back with a low grumble.
Jordane comes up behind half-moon tattoo guy.
Madison begins chanting, and the man drops his ax to cover his ears. “No, no, no!” he shouts.
Jordane comes around to Madison’s side, lowering his weapon. “This will be hard on you,” he says quietly.
Not caring about the consequences, she continues with the hex; blood seeps from half-moon’s eyes and ears. “Stop it! Stop!” he screams now in agony.
A warm trickle slips from Madison’s nose, she wipes away blood with her sleeve, but she’s enjoying watching this man suffer. All she can think of is his ax chopping down on small children, and he deserves nothing less than this. A laugh escapes her when he falls to his knees.
With those gentle yet concerned eyes of his, Jordane looks over at her, and then stabs the man through the chest. He kicks him off the sword and half-moon hits the ground. “He suffered enough.”
Holding a sleeve to her nose, Madison stops the bleeding. Dark magic like that harms the user in one way or another.
Jordane picks up an ax and chops the leaders head clean off. A leather bag appears from his pocket. “I asked for it before we left,” Jordane says and stuffs the head inside. “The horses are just behind the building.” He squints at the villagers who are now taking buckets of water to the fires.
They make their way toward the horses but Jordane stops abruptly. Turning on her heel, she faces him. “What’s wrong? We have the head, we need to get out of here.”
“Do you do that often?” he asks.
Madison doesn’t like the accusation in his expression, like he’s disgusted with her. “No,” she says. “What if I did?”
“You shouldn’t do that. It’s bad for your soul.”
Madison sneers. Some say if the magic user physically bleeds, so does their soul and most Delhoon are afraid to use hexes and curses. “It doesn’t hurt me.”
“I’ve seen people lose themselves to the darkness. They stop feeling, caring…”
“You don’t need to worry about that happening to me,” Madison says. “I know what I’m doing.” She turns away before he can respond.
Once they reach the horses, Madison peeks back at the village. The flames are higher since other buildings must have caught fire now. It will be a long time before they get the fire out.
Boaden kicks Hess. “Let’s go get our reward so we can go home.”
They take off with the village burning behind them.
13. Enden
Enden lays beside a woman he can’t remember the name of. She’s new to Madam Della’s establishment, whic
h is why he chose her. Having sex with prostitutes who’ve been with countless men could result in a disease, so he chose the Madam’s new girls whenever he came here. Knowing the king can’t afford scandal and or sickness, Madam Della also makes sure the girls who see him are clean. This one in particular is a dark haired, rare beauty. Loveliness that doesn’t belong in this place. He’ll reserve her for only himself, in an apartment of her own and pay well for it. She sleeps quietly beside him, half of her naked body exposed outside the blanket.
He came here when he couldn’t get his mind off Daelyn, hoping the arms of another woman would do the trick, and it seemed to this time. Actually, he hasn’t thought about his former betrothed in awhile. It’s as if a fog has lifted and his mind is clear for the first time in months. His eyes fall to pale skin and the curves of the woman beside him, wondering if it’s because of her or something else.
Enden sits up in the bed and throws the blanket off himself. He dresses quickly, wearing the clothes of an everyday high society gentlemen. It wouldn’t do to wear a royal uniform to this establishment, so he wears the fine clothes any wealthy man might wear. In fact, he thinks, I’ll have this woman sent to me from now on. As a prince he had less eyes on him, less responsibility, and could get away with more. That luxury is gone now.
The woman sits up, covering herself with the blanket. That’s how he knows for sure she’s new. The other prostitutes no longer have the natural tendency to cover their nakedness. “Are you leaving, Sire?” she combs her fingers through her somewhat tangled, long hair.
“I am. I have business to attend to.” Enden walks over to her, takes her chin in his hand and kisses her lips. “What is your name?” He looks into her stunningly light blue eyes. “And how old are you?” They hadn’t done much talking the night before so he knows nothing about her.
“My name is Saveena and I’m nineteen, Sire.”
Enden notices a small spot of blood on the sheets beneath her. “Was this your first time with a man?”
Her eyes fall and cheeks redden. “Yes, Sire.”
Enden is surprised at this. “How did you become a client of Madam Della’s?” Enden looks at himself in the mirror and combs down the stray hairs.
“She told me not to say, Sire,” Saveena answers.
Enden turns on his heel to look at her. “Do you know who I am?”
The girl shakes her head. “No, Sire.”
Enden raises an eyebrow. Why wouldn’t have Madam Della informed this woman? Would she be too nervous? “Then why do you call me, Sire?”
Saveena notices the blanket falling exposing part of her breast and pulls it higher. “Madam told me to address you as Sire because you are a nobleman and to do whatever you asked or…”
Enden figures that she had her life threatened. He adjusts the shirt cuffs at his wrists. “I am King Enden. King of Hesstia. And I don’t care what she told you. I asked you a question and you will answer it. Do not lie to me either. How did you become a prostitute?”
The girl’s mouth drops and her bright eyes widen. When she recovers from her shock she answers. “I was taken from my family, Sire, and sold to her.”
Enden isn’t surprised. He knows that people are taken and traded within his country. It’s not something he likes and it is against the law unless they are magic users. It’s no wonder Madam Della told her not to say.
It doesn’t trouble him when women are forced to work as servants, which is what happens to his magic user slaves, but he doesn’t like when women are forced into prostitution. That’s something his mother instilled in him as a young boy. Women should be respected when it comes to their virtues, even by a prince, and it took everything in him to stay away from Daelyn’s bed when she told him he had to wait. He hates that he’s thinking of her now.
“Do you have magic abilities?” he asks.
She looks him straight in the eyes. “No.”
“Where were you taken from?”
Saveena lets her feet slip from the bed onto the floor. “I am from Collweya.”
Enden freezes at the word. No one ever comes from Collweya or if they do they don’t say. He’d only ever heard stories of barbarians, dragons who lived in the perpetual cold, and those who ventured there most often never came back. “Are you lying to me?”
“No, I am from Collweya, Sire.”
Enden looks at her skin, white like snow, and suspects that he’s never seen anyone in Hesstia with skin that light. He didn’t think anything of it at first but it makes sense she’d be from a place where the sun is said to rarely shine and never warms from winters freeze. And her eyes blue, blue like icy waters, they stood out against her shock of dark hair.
“Get dressed, you’re coming with me.” Enden must know everything there is about Collweya. Do they truly have dragons? Is there a king with any army who could potentially be a threat? The mysteries of the place can now be revealed to him.
He grabs his coat and throws it on. Now that his mind is clear from his obsession in finding Daelyn, he must get the army ready to attack Delhoon. Kyria admitted that Rolland’s assassination was sanctioned by her, which meant that Hesstia is forced to retaliate. Word had come that Daelyn and the others were spotted in Nordia. He sent a small battalion to the city closest to the Delhoon border, knowing Daelyn and the others will have to stop there. He gave orders to pursue them into Delhoon if necessary. Even if the love sickness he had for Daelyn is gone, he still wants her back. It’s a matter of pride now; he must punish them for killing his brother.
Enden places his hand possessively on Saveena’s lower back as they walk toward where Madam Della is sitting. She rises to her feet, clasping her hands together with a grin. “Did you enjoy your time with Saveena, your highness? She’s beautiful, isn’t she? I saved her all week because I knew you’d want her—untarnished.”
“Yes, to both questions. I am taking her with me.”
Madam Della’s wrinkled face twists. “But Sire, she works for me.”
“She was sold to you as a slave, which is against the law.” Enden hardens his face. “I paid for the night. That is all you’ll get for her.”
“Your highness, please, I paid fifty pieces of gold for her.”
Enden tilts his head. This is an unheard of price for a slave. Madam Della, this old croon must know where she comes from and there might even be more to Saveena’s story. “Why was she worth so much?”
Madam Della stammers. “She’s well—look at her, she’s beautiful, pure and respectable. She’s worth that much.”
Enden nods in agreement. “Only because I like you, Della will I pay you your fifty gold pieces but she is coming with me, and that is the end of it.”
“Yes, Sire.” Madam Della bows her graying head.
Enden guides Saveena out the door and onto his horse. He wraps his arms around her to take the reins. “I have a lot of questions for you Saveena from Collweya.”
14. Boaden
Boaden and the others arrive back at Gorga’s oasis at sunrise. They ride through the wall opening, and Gorga hurries out of his tent.
“Is anyone hurt?” he asks, looking at Boaden’s face.
With all the dried blood, Boaden hadn’t had the chance to wash off yet, he’s fairly sure he looks frightening. “We’re fine, although-- is this your permanent home?” He slides off Hess.
Jordane hands the leather bag with the head of the fallen leader to Gorga. “Half-moon tattoo.”
“We’re staying here for the winter, why?” Gorga says, taking the bag, which had blood leaking through the bottom.
Boaden pats Hess’s neck. “We killed all those raiders, and there were more than you said by the way, but the villager’s began to rise up against us. If they suspected it was you, they may come seeking revenge.”
Gorga waves his hand down. “Bah, if you killed all the raiders, they won’t come. That was all their warriors.” Gorga opens the bag, looks inside and beams. “If I could pay you more I would. This is splendid. Of course I believed
you could do it but actually seeing it done…”
Boaden finds it unsettling that someone would smile at a bloody head, even if it belonged to the man who killed his family. Of all the men Boaden had killed, he’d never once felt cheerful about it. Justified, but not cheerful. However, Boaden has never had all his own sons and grandchildren killed before his eyes like Gorga. “At least you know they won’t be coming back.”
“I want to put his head on a spike by the entry,” Gorga says walking past them.
Boaden turns to Madison and Jordane, who both just shrug seemingly not finding issue with this. It’s completely barbaric and while foreign to him, it’s something a Nordian would do. Daelyn looks repulsed, as she should.
An older woman, who Boaden assumes is Gorga’s wife, comes out of the tent and hurries over to them. Long hair flies in the wind, black with graying at the temples. “It is done? You’ve killed the raiders?”
“It is done,” Boaden replies.
“We must celebrate!” she says, clapping her hands together but her gaze catches Gorga. “What is he doing?”
Daelyn, still sitting atop Asha says, “He wishes to put the raider’s head on a spike.”
The woman gasps and her hand flies to her mouth. “He wouldn’t dare. As if the grandchildren aren’t terrified enough after what happened. They’ll have nightmares for the rest of their lives.” She tears after him and Boaden smiles, knowing exactly who will win that argument.
It's a funny sight watching Gorga hobble along with a bloodied head and the woman chasing after him. “I could use some ale and a bath. I’ll give the children nightmares if they see me like this.”
Boaden and the others put their horses in with the camels and go to the watering hole to clean off in the privacy of the lagoon. Squatted down at the edge of the water, Boaden splashes his face. The faint red of the old blood drips off the tip of his nose. He cups his hands together and presses his face into the cool liquid again. With sweat beading and rolling down his back and the odor coming from his armpits, he needs a full body washing. He takes off his stained clothes and tosses them to the side, leaving him in only his dark gray bottom undergarments. “I think I’ll need new clothes.”
