Kingdom's Dawn (6 page)

He wanted to run but did not dare. Instead, he forced himself to take his first step out of fear and silence—one step deeper into the forest. He froze again and listened. The beating of his heart and his breathing seemed too
loud to hear above. One more step—listen. Another—listen. His small advances fueled his resolve to turn back the encroaching panic. He continued cautiously, moving toward an unknown enemy and an unknown fate.

The distant neigh of a horse pounded through the silence and dropped Leinad instantly to the ground. It was all he heard, but it was enough to tell him that he was probably still undetected. It also gave him a direction to travel, and he moved stealthily and slightly faster now. Though the forest hid its origin, Leinad now heard the distinct sounds of a breaking encampment. He knelt near a large tree and strained to filter voices from the rest. There were many men … and many weapons.

Leinad knew he must get closer if he was going to hear any conversation. He left his crouched position, stepped around the tree, and came face-to-face with all the fear he was fighting to conquer. A massive hand encircled Leinad's throat. He dropped his bow and instinctively clutched the hand that threatened his life as it pulled him toward the face of a huge man.

“I see we have a little rat spying upon us,” a gruff voice snarled.

Leinad stood on his toes to relieve some of the pain in his neck.

“I should very much like to kill you here, but the commander will want to see you first, rat.”

The man released Leinad and pushed him with the tip of his sword toward the sounds of the encampment. Leinad felt the warm tickle of his own blood trickle down his back.

Soon Leinad found himself in the midst of a dark and
ominous contingent of warriors. All were large. All were well fitted for war. The sword in his back pushed him toward a circle of men in the center of the encampment.

“Where are your men now?” came the voice of one of the men.

Leinad could see that the man's posture and commanding presence evoked a fearful respect from the rest of the men.

“On the western edge of the forest,” came the reply from one of the men on the opposite side of the circle. The man bore a grotesque scar on his forehead. “We can be ready to ride by midday.” Though sinister looking, the scarred man was not an equal with the commander or any of the other men for that matter. Their attitude toward him was one of tolerance.

“Midday may be too late,” the commander said sharply. “I suggest you motivate them to move faster, or you may not have any men to command!”

“Commander,” spoke the owner of the sword in Leinad's back, “forgive the intrusion, but I found this rat snooping about the camp.”

He forced Leinad into the circle to face the commander.

Leinad instantly became the spectacle of the six men. The steel glares made him feel as though he was being prepared for execution. It was clear to him that the intentions of these men were comprised of dark deeds. The fear he had momentarily conquered earlier in the forest rushed back upon him.

The commander stepped toward Leinad and glared at him with intense disdain. He was a tall, handsome man
with sharp features and dark eyes. Leinad lowered his eyes in fearful submission, unable to bear the hatred that emanated from the commander's fierce countenance.

“What did you hear, boy?” the commander asked.

Leinad's only reply was silence. He knew his fate was sealed regardless of what he said. His silence also protected the small shred of pride he had left by not revealing the fear in his heart through a voice that was sure to tremble.

A warrior approached on horseback and broke the silence. “All of the men are mounted and ready, Commander.”

The commander relinquished his glare on Leinad and walked toward his waiting steed. As he mounted, so did the rest of the men, with the exception of the scarred man behind Leinad.

“Kill him and dispose of him as you see fit, Zane,” the commander said to the scarred man. As he positioned his steed and motioned to his men, he turned again toward the man called Zane and smiled an evil smile. “I have some unfinished business to attend to.”

He kicked his horse and led his entourage of dark warriors into the forest … in the direction Leinad had come from.

The quiet of the forest soon returned as the band of warriors disappeared into its depths. Leinad turned his head slightly to verify the presence of the scarred man. As he did, he heard and saw the man draw his sword from his scabbard. Leinad was ashamed to think it, but all the good he had lived seemed irrelevant at the moment, and he thought how much better it would be if he had not been born.

He heard the man take two steps toward his back and
readied himself to flee or fight; he couldn't decide.
If only I had my sword, at least I would have a chance
, he thought.

“This was a bad day for you to wander into the forest, boy,” the man said as he slowly circled around to the front of Leinad. “You see, I have some pressing business to attend to, and I haven't time to waste.” He held the sword before him, close to Leinad's throat. As the man looked full into Leinad's face for the first time, Leinad saw a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes.

He could not help gazing at the scar that crossed the man's forehead. He felt an uneasy familiarity about the man even though he had never seen him before.

The man squinted at Leinad and lowered his sword. “Where do you live, boy?”

Leinad did not dare answer for fear of bringing danger to his father and Tess. His silence might bring his death more quickly, but he knew there was no other choice to make.

The man raised his sword in anger. “I can kill you in an instant, boy. Now where do you live?”

“You will kill me anyway, and my words of betrayal to my family will haunt me beyond the doors of death,” Leinad said.

Surprisingly, the man's anger was somewhat abated by Leinad's answer, and he once again lowered his sword.

“Remove your shoes,” he said.

Leinad crouched down and complied with the man's order.

“Now that you cannot flee so easily, I will give you an opportunity to provide some sport for me. It is much more enjoyable to kill in a fight than to kill the defenseless.” He
walked a few paces to his horse, withdrew a second sword, and threw it toward Leinad's bare feet.

“Do your best, boy. I am in a hurry, but I haven't felt the thrill of a fight for some time.”

Leinad stared at the man in disbelief and then at the sword at his feet.

“Pick it up, boy! Hold it in front of you. I haven't much time to waste.”

Leinad bent down to retrieve the sword, but he kept his eye on the man. As he lifted the sword in front of him, the scarred man yelled and threw one swift cut at Leinad, who instinctively blocked the cut and fell back into a defensive posture. The man cocked his head to one side as he stared at Leinad.

“You did not startle as I would expect. Let us see if you are truly brave or just numb with fear.”

Leinad felt the blood coursing through his muscles as his mind awakened his body's purpose from that of captive to that of sword fighter. His grip became firm and his eyes narrowed. The scarred man watched the transformation, and it was apparent that he was now aware of his mistake. He faced a formidable challenge.

The man advanced on Leinad with a quick combination of cuts and slices. Leinad met each attack with the precision of an experienced sword fighter. His mind automatically controlled his muscles to meet each volley of attacks while simultaneously analyzing the strengths and weaknesses of the man. Unable to penetrate Leinad's defenses, the man's fervent attacks were a clear indication that he was trying to quell his mounting apprehension.

Leinad blocked a head-high cut with the flat of his blade and thwarted a conservative thrust off to his left. Then he attacked with a cut combination from the left and above. The man narrowly escaped the deadly edge of Leinad's sword and began falling back for the first time since the fight began.

Leinad maintained the offensive and methodically advanced on the man. His blade raced toward the man's torso but met steel instead of flesh. He quickly added a vertical cut, but it too was thwarted. His opponent was no amateur, and it was clear that Leinad would have to be at his best in order to survive this encounter.

In response to Leinad's offensive moves, the man became deathly aggressive and countered with an onslaught of cuts and slices. Leinad once again found himself retreating while deflecting each powerful blow. The two swords clashed with great speed time after time to fill the forest stage with an unusual melodic beat. In his retreat, Leinad saw in his peripheral vision a large tree off to his right, and he was thankful that he had not backed into it or stumbled on its exposed roots.

Just then the scarred man brought a powerful slice from Leinad's left, aimed at his torso. Rather than meet the blow, Leinad fell to the forest floor and allowed the slice to pass above his head. The man's sword became embedded in the trunk of the tree as Leinad had hoped. Knowing the man was unable to instantly recover, Leinad chanced an upward thrust from his kneeling position, and the man dodged quickly to his left.

He was too late. His leather tunic deflected Leinad's blade slightly, but not enough to prevent it from slicing the
tender skin on his right side. The wound was agonizingly painful, as evidenced by the man's scream, but probably not fatal. Leinad tried to recover from the thrust, but the man drove his knee into Leinad's head, which sent him reeling to the ground.

The blow nearly knocked Leinad unconscious. He desperately fought to regain his senses and rise to his feet. Dizzy and unfocused, he wondered when he too would feel the deadly steel of a blade penetrate his body. He stumbled away from where he knew the man had last been. Leinad grabbed his head with his hands to help steady himself, and his vision cleared slightly. He looked toward the tree, nearly ten paces away, and saw the man clutching his side in a kneeling position. Leinad realized that his sword must have cut deeper than he thought.

It was only then that he realized he was without his sword. The blow to his head had caused him to release his grip. His sword lay near the man, and Leinad did not dare retrieve it. His only chance now was to flee.

He heard the man gasp, “Run, boy! My revenge will be in your death tomorrow!” The man coughed and moaned as he fell further to the ground.

Leinad backed away from the scarred man. He had never injured, let alone killed, anyone before. The distant sound of approaching horses forced him to retreat quickly. He turned and began to run across the forest floor as fast as his bare feet would take him. He regretted not retrieving his shoes before launching his escape, but now it was too late. He chose a direction slightly off what would be toward home.

Fully expecting to hear the hooves of chasing horses, Leinad tried to place as much distance between himself and them as possible.
Now I really am the hunted
, he thought. Seconds turned to minutes, and his feet began to bleed. He ran until he felt as though his lungs would burst. Finally he collapsed behind the shelter of a fallen tree to regain some air and spot his would-be hunters. But there was no pursuit.

Leinad's mind raced through the questions that filled it.
Who were these men? Where did they come from? What was their mission?
The sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach was no longer caused by his flight, but by what he might discover ahead of him. Having verified that he was not being pursued, he resumed his run at a pace he could maintain and altered his direction toward home. As he ran, his anxiety grew. Regardless of the final destination of the band of warriors that earlier had headed south, their direction would take them straight to his father's farm. The mere thought made him quicken his pace.

Leinad finally cleared the forest edge and began the trek across the grassy fields and hills. He tried to ignore the blood that oozed from his swollen feet. The fresh imprints in the soil of many horses made him painfully aware that others had taken this same path earlier.

Leinad dropped to the ground just prior to the final ridge that blocked the view of his farm. He closed his eyes and hoped against hope that he would once again see the serene and peaceful farmyard waiting for him. He slowly crawled to the crest of the ridge and looked toward home.

The horror Leinad had dreaded quickly became reality. The entire contingent of vicious warriors occupied the
farmyard. His father was held in the grip of two massive warriors, and the commander was facing him with his sword drawn. Leinad searched for Tess, but he could not see her. He was too far away to hear distinct words but close enough to hear their voices.

Leinad reasoned that there must be some connection between his father's previous life and this man who commanded these dark warriors. If that was so, he knew that his father's life was in serious jeopardy. Leinad felt completely helpless, and yet he knew he must do something. As he desperately tried to think of a course of action, he witnessed the unthinkable. The commander plunged his sword into Peyton's torso.

It was too much for Leinad to bear in silence. He started to rise up and scream, but a large hand covered his mouth as a heavily muscled arm pressed him facedown to the ground. Only a muffled scream of anger and fear escaped through the powerful fingers that entrapped his lips. Leinad struggled, but the weight of another body pressed him hard to the ground.

A deep whisper entered his ear. “You will only be killed as well!”

Leinad recognized the accent that belonged to only one man—Gabrik—and quit his struggle.

Gabrik slowly released his grip on Leinad and turned him over on his back.

“You must stay in control, Leinad,” Gabrik said sternly. “Your father would expect nothing less.”

“We must do something!” Leinad said as he fought back rage and tears.