by Coty Schwabe
ACBAIN: SEALER OF THE CROSSBLADE
An Eranovium Short Story, Prequel to In Search of the Sword
By Coty Schwabe, Copyright 2014
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This is a work of fiction. Any relations to persons living or dead, establishments or locales is purely coincidental. The events portrayed are also fictitious. Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited. If you’ve finished the story, consider leaving a review on your favorite retailer’s website.
WHAT OTHERS HAVE SAID ABOUT THIS STORY:
Intriguing story and very descriptive. Haven't read the other books yet, but it was an interesting prequel and good set up for the rest of the novels!
M. M. Gallivet, Author of Gathering of Blackbirds
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CHAPTER ONE
1
Acbain spurred his horse up the castle's main path, passing under the wrought iron gate, and into the castle's perimeter wall. The entrance door lay ahead, with a guard standing to each side, spears crossed. He could barely see their faces in the cerulean moonlight and numerous torches.
Acbain cleared the gap between them, reared his horse and jumped down. One of the king's human servants came running up, and took the reins from his hands. “Don't take her far. I get the feeling I'll be on my way shortly.”
“Aye, sir,” the servant replied, bowing in reverence. “She'll be not fifty yards away, and I shall bring her back upon your exit.”
“Good.” He nodded back, giving the man clearance to do as he'd suggested. The servant bowed once more, and disappeared, horse in tow. Better take care of her, he muttered. He didn't hate humans, but rather pitied them. To him, they led miserable, servile lives, and he wondered why the Father would even bother to create such weak, magic-less creatures. But, then again, they'd found favor with the King and that was good enough for him.
When he reached the door, the guard on the right addressed him. This guard stood seven foot tall, with immensely broad shoulders. One of the Vorghoni, the evolved bear people. Powerful warriors that fought until death, always eager for battle. Sometimes a little too eager. “Gailah, Master Acbain. Have you your crest and sigil?” he asked, his voice tinny and echoed by the slitted helmet he wore.
“Aye,” Acbain replied. He pulled back part of his crimson robe, and held up the silver medallion that hung from his neck. The medallion bore the insignia of the Palladium Knights - an image of the Crossblade engraved upon one side, the image of King Myza's Drakonic crest upon the other - and it suspended in the air, twisting slightly.
“Very well, Master Acbain. You may enter.” They retracted their respective spears like a spring-loaded trap, and the guard who had not spoken pulled the left door open. Acbain went about halfway in when he left them with this last bit. “And I am far from Master. I am but an apprentice still.”
2
Mounted sconces ran the corridor leading to the grand hall. Painted portraits of the dragon kings ran the walls, along with portraits of the Palladium Knights themselves. The sight of them made him withdraw the medallion and kiss it in deference for those who had not made it during Denteroth's time here.
He stopped when he came to the picture of Kivemaer, the only dark elf mage. His portrait does him no justice, thought Acbain. One of the greatest spell casters to ever walk the surface of this planet, if not the greatest of all time. Certainly the greatest mentor.
Acbain quickly took a knee, bowed, ran his fingers in a cross-shaped motion. Thank you Father of Creation, for you allowed my tutelage under such a being.
No sooner did he stand, did there come footfall from further down the hall. He looked, and another servant, a plump woman this time – human of course - appeared in the firelight. The sight of her made him uneasy. If there was anything to be said about humans, it was their ability to multiply so rapidly. Using that argument, he could see why they made good servants.
“Master Acbain? Thank goodness! The King has just about unraveled himself awaiting your presence.”
“He has?” Acbain asked. He'd been summoned and the message had seemed important but what could be so important or dire that the Drakoni King himself - the strongest creature known in all of Eranovium - would be unnerved? Something didn't bode well. Acbain's stomach twisted in a knot.
“Aye,” she replied. “I know not why, only that he has been pacing for hours.”
Acbain nodded. “Thank thee, lady hume. You may go about your business.”
She dipped her head low, and passed by him, venturing off into one of the side rooms.
Acbain walked on, now with a sort of forced gait, finally reaching the doors that marked the end of the long hallway.
He grabbed a handle in his freehand, and pulled.
3
The grand hall was more a room than a hall, but connected the entire castle as the hub. Stairs snaked their way along the sides of the thirty foot tall room, one on the left, one on the right, mirrored. A large chandelier of steel chains, and interconnected candelabras lit most of the room, with more candles dispersed about.
The kitchen was to his immediate left, the door beyond that, the dining hall. To his right were bathing rooms, servant’s quarters, and equipment storage. At the top of the stairs were important rooms: a strategy room, the library, studies for the princes and the treasury, which was dreadfully difficult to access, and made robbing the place all the more difficult, should it ever happen.
And before him were the heavy stone doors of the throne room.
Servants bustled to and fro about their duties, walking before him. Occasionally they would nod to him, though he paid them no attention. No time for niceties.
From the kitchen, smells of sweet bread and turkey wafted his nostrils every time the door swung open. His stomach rumbled in response, but he ignored it.
Acbain made his way past the servants to the throne room doors. He threw his weight against the door (regarding how weak he felt in his position of spell-casting as opposed to sword wielding) pushing it inward, and went inside.
4
