By the Sword Page 4

  Talya sprinted toward Tasar and blocked his careless swing. Tasar’s large frame was still clumsy and inexperienced. Cardamonian knights were generally a couple of years ahead in skill and agility. There had been no better teacher than General Landine.

  Tasar hit Talya in the stomach with a high kick, catching her off guard. She stumbled backward, annoyed with herself for allowing her mind to wander so easily. Talya took a run at him and hit the lower part of his sword with all her might, knocking it from his hand. She stood with the point of her blade at his chest.

  Many of the knights cheered and hollered. Some laughed.

  “I guess I could use some more training. You’re good,” he muttered.

  “We all can improve in some way,” said Talya.

  They shook hands. He wasn’t so bad, after all.

  Tasar and Atalsa walked together back to the meal cabin. Some of the young men taunted Tasar for being beaten by a girl.

  They haven’t seen anything yet, Talya thought.

  Talya stepped away from the crowd and practiced her swinging techniques.

  “It sure is energizing to practice while the morning is still cool,” said a familiar voice.

  It was General Edandir. Talya regarded him with a nod and then continued to work on different maneuvers.

  “I’m sorry for the loss of Cardamon. I know how you loved it there.”

  “We’re going to get it back,” said Talya.

  Talya took a run and kicked her right foot high in the air.

  “I saw you fighting that Malinorian commander before you disappeared into the woods. I was very impressed with your skill, Talya. You were fighting against Ittonifer’s nephew, Jalarn. You have become an excellent knight.”

  Talya’s eyes widened. Her father had actually just complimented her.

  “That would explain why the brute had been impossible to beat then,” said Talya.

  Ittonifer was an expert swordsman. Jalarn had no doubt received his training from him.

  “I’ve decided on who I’m going to take with me to Malinor,” he said.

  “And?”

  “You’ll find out shortly.”

  Thousands of knights and soldiers swarmed onto the training field like hungry flies. Talya was almost afraid to hope that her father would take her on the mission. It was the very adventure that she needed to occupy her mind.

  “Attention, soldiers!” shouted General Edandir.

  The soldiers lined up according to rank. Talya lined up with the knights.

  “Tomorrow, six exceptional knights will travel to Malinor with me. When I call your name, please stand beside me.”

  “The first knight that I am going to call out is Sir Tanel.”

  Tanel stepped out of his line and walked over to his new general.

  Talya smiled. He was the perfect choice.

  “Next, Sirs Timlin and Pori.”

  Two muscular, dark-haired swordsmen, twins, emerged from the crowd. Talya recognized them right away. They were about ten years older than she. She had learned how to hold a sword properly from Timlin. She smiled as they bickered quietly with one another on their way over to Edandir.

  “Sir Endil, please step forward.”

  A formidable man in his mid-thirties, with the largest arms that Talya had ever seen, walked over and stood in between the twin brothers.

  “Next, Sir Wenyn.”

  Another young archer stepped forward. Talya was sure that he could not possibly be as good as Tanel.

  There was only one more knight left to be called.

  Talya bit her lip in anticipation. The suspense was driving her crazy.

  “My final knight is Lady Talya.”

  Talya exhaled and ran over to stand with the chosen group.

  Tanel grinned at her and they hugged.

  “We’re going to Malinor!” cried Talya.

  She pushed away the irritation of being called last and relished in the fact that her father had finally recognized her for something.

  *****

  In the dimly lit library, Chrissa’s mind swam so much that she could barely focus on the old manuscript that she was reading. The words started to blur together on the page.

  Annoyed, she set it down and stretched. She knew that her father was scheming to find her a husband, and the very idea provoked her to wrath.

  Jalarn poured over a spell book at a desk next to hers. He was eating up everything that he could about witchcraft. It was no wonder. Chrissa figured that he would soon be deemed as her father’s left-hand man – the general of Malinor’s army.

  Jalarn’s eyes traveled from the pages to her.

  “What were you reading so intently over there?” asked Jalarn.

  “Some theories behind spells that affect the mind,” said Chrissa.

  “Interesting. I would like to see that when you are finished.”

  “You can have it now. I can’t read anymore tonight.”

  She walked over and handed him the thick book, which he eagerly took. He had so much to live for. Jalarn was highly favored by Ittonifer, which was something that Chrissa would never be.

  “Jalarn, is it true that Cardamon and Sanctus have female knights?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you fight against any of them?”

  Jalarn cleared his throat and shrugged, keeping his eyes on the book.

  Well, that is strange. Why didn’t he just answer me?

  The heavy library door opened with a creak.

  Naeshi walked in. His grey eyes rested upon Chrissa.

  Not again.

  Chrissa’s heart fluttered nervously at his intense gaze. There was no way to avoid him this time. The ruggedly handsome guard had started to notice her about a year ago, but, up until that moment, she had always been able to retreat from him. She had not expected to see him in the library of all places.

  He looked over to where Jalarn sat.

  “Commander Jalarn, you wouldn’t mind if I took your lovely cousin off your hands, would you?”

  Jalarn’s deep green eyes studied the guard for a moment, but then he nodded.

  Chrissa swallowed as she followed Naeshi out of the library. They walked in silence down the dimly lit hallway that led to the courtyard. His strong, deliberate gait was unnerving. She felt like a wisp next to him.

  Outside, the night sky was dark and overcast as usual. Not one star could be seen.

  Naeshi motioned for her to sit beside him on the stone bench. Chrissa complied, but she sat on the edge.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said.

  “Is there something on your mind?” Chrissa asked.

  Wait. Wrong question.

  “Yes. You.”

  He moved closer, wrapping his strong arm around her. Just before he brought his lips to hers, Chrissa stood and backed away.

  “Come back here!” he shouted.

  Chrissa jumped back at his tone. He reached to grab one of her arms, but she spun around and ran back into the castle.

  Chapter Four

  Jalarn leaned over the old spell book that Chrissa had given him. There were so many spells, so many ways to achieve power through wizardry, but it wasn’t enough just to read about it. Magic was something that he should have considered learning years ago.

  Anger suddenly raced through his veins.

  Why would Ittonifer keep these spells from me? We could have conquered the whole world by now.

  There was so much to know. Too much to know, it seemed.

  Jalarn leaned back in his chair and rested his eyes. Ittonifer still didn’t trust him enough to let him in on the study of magic. When Jalarn opened his eyes again, a bright glowing ball emerged from the page. He stared at it and blinked. It was still there.

  Magic. Real magic.

  The ethereal sphere floated to the doorway and remained there.

  Jalarn put the book back into its place on the shelf and then followed the bright bundle of energy.

  It led him down the hallwa
y that led out of his wing and past Ittonifer’s study. It stopped at a bolted door that he had ignored hundreds of times before.

  Jalarn unbolted the latch and his pulse raced. What was behind that door? The glowing object led him through the doorway and down a dark, narrow stairway. He picked up his pace to keep up with his only source of illumination. As he neared the bottom of the steps, soft amber light bounced off the walls.

  He stood at the bottom of the staircase. The magical bundle of light faded until it disappeared completely.

  He stood in a cave-like room. It was lit by several torches that were secured on the stone walls. There were several cauldrons and shelves upon shelves of books, scrolls, jars, and bottles, but there was not a soul to be seen.

  Jalarn walked around the large room. There were jars filled with everything from rats’ tails to dried flowers. It was the most captivating display that he had ever seen. He wanted to know the different ways of manipulating every single item in the room.

  How long would it take for me to know how to use all of these things?

  He walked over to a statue of a mighty warrior, carved out of black stone. Gooseflesh emerged over his body as he stared at it. There was something about it that made him never want to take his eyes off of it.

  This has to be the most powerful thing in the lair.

  Dragging footsteps and raspy breathing interrupted the silence.

  Jalarn turned to face an old, boney warlock who wore a black hooded robe and an amused expression.

  “What may I help you with, young Jalarn?”

  “How do you know who I am?”

  “I happen to know many things about you. My name is Aterun. I am the high magician here. I’ve been watching your progress, and I knew that one day you would come to me for guidance.”

  How? I didn’t even know that this place existed.

  “The great prince has very special plans for you. He has given me the responsibility of teaching you.”

  “So you speak with him then?”

  With a wistful smile, the elderly warlock nodded.

  “Everyday.”

  “I suppose he would speak to an accomplished warlock that often.”

  Jalarn glanced up at the statue of the powerful knight.

  “Who is that?” Jalarn asked.

  The magician clasped his frail hands together. He was clearly taken by the idol.

  “It is our lord. Legend has it that the prince himself carved it from the moon’s stone after he fled Heaven. It is a daily reminder of his strength and courage for us to go against the oppression written throughout the God followers’ Scriptures.”

  A shiver ran down Jalarn’s spine.

  Carved by the most powerful being in the universe.

  “I want to gain more power for our army on the battlefield. The Malinorian Empire can use it to expand to its full potential.”

  “Yes, I know. Come, let me show you something.”

  “Are you the only magician here?”

  “No. There are ten others.”

  “Where is everyone?”

  “We usually congregate before our evening meal and worship the great prince, but I knew that you would be here tonight.”

  The withering man led Jalarn to a spring-fed pool.

  “You want me to go into the water?” asked Jalarn.

  Aterun did not answer him.

  “Can I, too, communicate with our great prince?” asked Jalarn.

  “In time.”

  The warlock closed his eyes and dipped both of his hands in the water. He then grasped Jalarn’s hands.

  Jalarn pulled them away at first, but then he relaxed. The magician had to know what he was doing. Aterun gripped Jalarn’s hands firmly, clicking his tongue several times.

  As weariness overcame Jalarn, he closed his eyes.

  The old man began to sing in a strange tongue. It was the most mournful, soothing song that Jalarn had ever heard.

  Images started to appear in Jalarn’s mind – of a woman dying in childbirth, of ten soldiers being charred instantly from a fire-breathing dragon’s breath, of a worthless man slitting his own throat. Every new vision comforted him more than the previous.

  Yes. I see it. Death is a beautiful thing for those who trust in the prince.

  Jalarn’s hands grew warmer from the warlock’s touch until something hot quickly shot up his arms. He shook as a foreign sensation swept through his entire body. Then, it seemed to reach deep into his soul, coating it.

  He could barely breathe.

  A soft, assuring voice penetrated his trance.

  “Jalarn. Kill for me. Steal for me. Destroy for me. Do these three things to my enemies, and you will be rewarded with more power than you could ever imagine in this life and in the next. I will be by your side until the day comes for your flame to die out, and then we will be together forever. You will never have to be afraid. I will protect you from all harm. Just serve me.”

  It was him. The prince.

  Jalarn found his breath again.

  “I will, my prince!” he shouted.

  Suddenly, all Jalarn could hear was the old warlock chanting. Then, the elderly man’s voice quieted. The heat that had rushed through Jalarn’s body left immediately.

  Jalarn opened his eyes.

  The warlock was staring at him.

  “You have just been chosen and ordained as a magician by our lord. You are now ready to learn of the power that he has given to us.”

  Jalarn swallowed, still in a euphoric daze. The prince had really spoken to him.

  “I don’t know anything,” said Jalarn.

  “Not yet. We will start at the beginning with the most basic spells. There is much for you to learn and remember, but you will be fine. I just need you to stay focused. Understand?”

  “Yes. Anything for the prince.”

  *****

  General Edandir and his small group of spies landed their dragon steeds at Noir Peak. They dismounted and then suited up with the black armor that they had retrieved from fallen Malinorians in Cardamon. It had been a grim, but necessary action.

  “I never would have thought that I would wear a demon’s armor,” said Timlin.

  “We just came from a destroyed country, with fallen people strewn everywhere, and that is all you can think about?” asked Tanel.

  “Silence lads. We have an important task to accomplish. Besides, you know how sensitive our firedrakes are to bickering,” said Endil.

  It had been difficult revisiting Cardamon, especially for Talya and Tanel. They had once again witnessed the great bloodshed right on their homeland. The ground had been littered with so many dismembered bodies.

  Edandir watched Talya slip on a dark iron mask. The armor was way too big for her, but she would have to manage.

  He looked away.

  Maybe it was not a good idea to bring her with us.

  “Well, this sure beats riding on horses,” said Pori lightly.

  The sleek, fire-breathing reptiles were an excellent choice of transportation for the mission.

  “No doubt,” said Endil. “Our fine general here was the one who found these creatures when they were just hatchlings. He tamed them himself and brought them to the king.”

  “Really?” asked Tanel.

  “Yes,” said General Edandir.

  “You never told me about that,” said Talya in obvious disdain.

  “It was long before your time. I never thought to.”

  “Where did you find them?” Talya asked.

  “In the forest near the castle in Sanctus City. I was with your mother that day. She was the one that heard them first.”

  “I wonder why she never told me the story,” said Talya.

  General Edandir’s pulse raced. This was not the time or the place for such a conversation. He wished that Endil had kept his mouth shut.

  “If only they could lay more than one egg at a time. The whole army could be riding dragon steeds by now,” said Endil.

  “I
magine the look on old Ittonifer’s stone cold face if that happened,” said Timlin.

  Everyone laughed except for Talya.

  “How were all seven of these dragons together if a dragon can only lay one egg at a time?” asked Tanel.

  “Someone maybe gathered several eggs together from different mothers,” said Talya.

  She glared at Edandir.

  “I will tell you about it one day, but for now, we have a mission to complete,” said Edandir.

  “Yes, Sir,” they all replied in unison.

  They remounted their dragons and flew to the south side of Ittonifer’s homeland. They landed in a dense forest and tied their dragons to the thick tree stumps.

  A dirt road just past the forest led them to Malinor City. Edandir had not been there since his youth, but it had not changed at all. It was strange to experience the sights and smells he hadn’t been around for decades.

  The city’s sharp, jagged architecture, all built of black stone, hinted of Malinor’s brutality. Merchants clothed in dull, drab colors yelled at darkly dressed townspeople on the street.

  The general and his spies walked by a large crowd of what appeared to be the Malinorian elite. Men in well-tailored black tunics and shined leather boots were accompanied by tall, beautiful ladies adorned with dark makeup and tightly laced corset gowns.

  There were no children. In Malinor, the very young were neither seen nor heard.

  The crowd was most likely watching either a public torture or a slave auction.

  Edandir flinched. Talya had drifted over to the group of people. She stood on tiptoe, trying to see over some of the men.

  Tanel grabbed her arm and brought her back to the group.

  Edandir shook his head.

  There were several Malinorian knights patrolling the streets. Talya should have known that she had to be extra careful so as not to draw any attention to them.

  “We are here solely for this mission, Talya,” whispered Edandir. “This is not a leisurely excursion. Don’t make me regret asking you to be here.”

  She nodded, but he knew beneath that mask was a scowl. It was a mistake to bring her along.

  “Where do you think Ittonifer is?” asked Tanel.

  “Probably on the training field.”

  They left the bustling city and traveled down another dirt road that led to the military base. Edandir felt like he had been there just yesterday. It was so familiar. Thousands of soldiers dueled and sparred on the training field.