Sword of Light (32 page)

“I have seen things that would upset the stomach more than some waves, Captain Brelis.”  Dominic replied, turning towards him.  “It is simply a matter of training and discipline.”

“Please call me Brelis, my Lord Demonhunter.”  The man said with a laugh.  “Would you care to make a wager on whether discipline will help you if we run into one of the storms that can rise in the south at this time of the year?”

“Forgive me, Brelis, but you have the look of a man who would go looking for a storm just to win that bet.”  Dominic said.  “I think I will keep my coin.”

Brelis laughed loudly.  “I must say that I like you, my lord.  This should be an enjoyable trip.”

Despite his seemingly jovial demeanor, Brelis ran a tight ship.  His sailors hurried to obey his commands and he was not above telling Dominic or anyone else on the ship what to do, expecting to be obeyed.  He kept a constant watch on their navigation, checking his charts against their speed and direction to track their location.  The ship sped along day and night, keeping the shore just beyond the horizon.

They had arrived at Far Southern late last night, but were forced to wait outside the harbor until the harbormaster arrived just before dawn.  The harbormaster stood next to and directed Brelis as he maneuvered the
Wavemistress
to the dock.  Once the ship was moored, Brelis’ sailors began to lead the horses from the holds while Dominic’s party gathered their equipment and supplies.

“I will wait for you here, my lord, to return you to Danelias.”  Brelis told Dominic as he prepared to disembark.  A grin crossed his face.  “The queen is paying me handsomely for my time, so there is no hurry to return.”

“I will try to remember that, Captain Brelis.”  Dominic replied, shaking his head.  “I would not want to do anything to shortchange you.”

They were headed to the local garrison to gather some additional supplies and a water wagon.  The area where Parshalthia was located was barren and hot, with little water available.  The water wagon carried enough water to take care of their and the horses’ needs.  It would slow them down, but Moshanna told him that they could not make it to Parshalthia without it.

Dominic glanced behind him.  Sergeant Stonebuilder, the Queen’s Guard in charge of the other soldiers, was riding behind Taric and Halana, the young female cleric, with a frown on his face.  Stonebuilder had not been happy when Dominic had told them, before they left the ship, that Moshanna was his second.

“My lord, I must protest.”  He had said.  “You cannot put a traitor in charge of us.  He has no honor.”

“Sergeant, I am in command, placed there by the queen herself.”  Dominic had responded, fixing the man with a steady stare.  “Moshanna is my second and you will obey him.  If not, I will take your men and leave you behind.  You can explain to Commander Farrious or the queen why you refused to accompany me as you were ordered.”

Stonebuilder had sat there in stony silence, finally nodding his head.  “It will be as you say, my lord, but I do not have to like it.”

Dominic shook his head as he turned forward. 
The Aletonians and their honor.
  He thought. 
Moshanna needs to find a way to clear his name.

They rode up to the local garrison’s fortress, a squat building made of the same red stone as the rest of the buildings.  It was located next to the wall that surrounded the town, near the main gates.  They stopped the horses under an area designed for shade, open but covered by a thin thatched roof.  Dominic sent Stonebuilder inside to arrange for the water wagon while the rest waited.

After twenty minutes, Stonebuilder came around from the rear of the building, driving a wagon pulled by four horses, with two very large wooden barrels mounted in place of the wagon bed.  At Moshanna’s command, one of the soldiers tied off Stonebuilder’s horse to his own.

“Are we ready, Sergeant?”  Dominic asked.

“We are, my lord.”  Stonebuilder stated

“Then let us begin.”  Dominic said, spurring Shadow forward.

As they passed through the town gates, heading west, the paved road transitioned to a hard-packed dirt road.  The land ahead of them was a rocky desert, the soil a monotonous pale brown, with jumbles of red and light yellow rocks rising from the ground.  The road they traveled on extended into hills that seemed to go on forever.  Except for some greenery near the coast, the hills were largely barren of plants.

As the morning passed and the sun continued its rise in the sky, the temperature began to rise as well.  Everyone was soon sweating, the soldiers burdened with their armor and the clerics with their robes.  Dominic noticed Taric, his face bright red, start to sway slightly in his saddle as they rode.  Halana, riding close to him, handed him a waterskin and encouraged him to drink.  After he had drunk deeply, she reached over and clasped his hand, her form glowing in power.  When she released her power, his face was less flushed and he straightened in the saddle.  He leaned close to her and said something quietly.  She let out a soft laugh and patted his hand, a large smile on her face.

Dominic saw that Moshanna had followed his gaze.  They shared a look, both slightly bemused.  After Halana had used her healing to help Taric with his seasickness, they had become inseparable on the ship.  They were always together, often just the two of them, talking quietly, their interest in each other obvious.

“Are you sure this isn’t why Jonas sent you with me?”  He had said to Taric on the third day at sea.  “Maybe he was hoping to see you married off.”

Taric had flushed bright red, embarrassed.  “It is not like that, Dominic.  Halana is a skilled healer and she is simply teaching me new techniques.”

“I thought clerics were supposed to tell the truth, Brother.”  Dominic replied, cocking an eyebrow.   He clapped the young cleric on the shoulder as Taric sputtered, trying to figure out a response.  “Just make sure the mission is finished before you decide to run off together.”

By mid-day, they halted to water and rest the horses.  They ate a quick meal, sitting in the shadow of their horses and refilling all of the waterskins from the wagon.

“This heat can easily kill you.”  Welsen, one of the Aletonian clerics, told them all as they prepared to mount.  He and Quilian, the fourth cleric, were both older men, each having served with the army.  “Until we grow use to it, we all must continue to drink water.  Everyone should be consuming at least a skin an hour.”

“We will all do as you say, Brother.”  Dominic ordered.

They reached to the main north-south trade route in the late afternoon.  After another short break where the clerics checked on the condition of both man and horse, they turned south.  The road, if it could be called that, was lightly traveled.

“There is not much, if any, trade with the people of the Southern Wilds.”  Moshanna announced as they headed south.  “I was assigned to the garrison here for some time when I was a soldier.  While not much is known about their customs, they are a tribal people, constantly warring with each other.  Some in the north had headed south, hotheads looking for adventure and clerics going to spread the message of the One or just to attempt to understand the southerners.  Few ever came back.  We may run into bands of the Wild men as we head south.  Unless they outnumber us, they are likely to scatter.  While a fight is unlikely, we must stay vigilant.”

As the sun set in the west, they stopped and made camp, finding a suitable place a short way off the road.  As night settled over the hills, the temperature began to fall.  After a day of oppressive heat, the relatively cool night felt cold.  Some of the party began to shiver and wrapped themselves in their sleeping blankets.

Dominic set the soldiers’ schedule for watch with Stonebuilder, checked on Shadow, and then went over to sit next to Moshanna.

“What can we expect going forward?”  He asked.

“We should be able to make it to the road that leads to Parshalthia tomorrow.”  Moshanna replied quietly.  “I have never been there, but I was told that it is only about a half-day ride to the ruins from there.”

Dominic nodded.  “Do the Wild men travel there?  Should we expect to have contact with them?”

Moshanna shook his head.  “I doubt it.  From what I know of them, they tend to stick to the trading route, raiding those unfortunates that venture too far south.  I am more concerned about coming across the demons and their followers.”

He glanced over towards the clerics, who were sitting near the wagon.  “We only have four clerics.  We must make sure that they are protected or we will surely fail.  I would recommend that we assign a soldier to each.  That will only leave us and five soldiers to maneuver, but we need the clerics whole and fighting, if we face the demons.”

Dominic considered it, and then nodded.  “In the morning, I will have Stonebuilder task his men to protect the clerics.”

They broke camp in the early morning, riding out as the sun was rising.  As the day passed, the heat rose and was as brutal as the day before.  Traveling through the rocky terrain, the route would sometimes lead into small canyons that produced enough shade to provide a small measure of relief from the harsh heat.  Despite the relative comfort of the canyons, Dominic refused to stop to rest while in them.  He preferred open ground where they could see their enemies coming.

In the late afternoon, as they were cresting a hill, Moshanna halted the column and pointed down along the path.  In the distance, through the heat shimmer rising from the ground, Dominic saw a small group of men running from the rocky outcroppings that lined the route ahead.  He could just make out what looked like light-colored armor on the men and long wooden spears held in their hands.  The group turned south along the route and, constantly looking back over their shoulders towards the outcroppings, continued to run.

“Wild men?”  He asked Moshanna.

“Yes.”  Moshanna replied as he studied the outcroppings ahead.  “They appear to be fleeing from something and I don’t think it was us.”

Dominic nodded, having thought the same thing.  He turned and spoke to the rest of the party.  “We are continuing forward, but remain alert and ready.  The Wild men appear to be running from something, so there is likely danger ahead.  If attacked, we will charge through the ambush, then wheel around.”

They rode forward, the rocky outcroppings a ragged maze of red and gray stone.  The soldiers held their spears at the ready, the clerics glowing in power while Dominic and Moshanna drew their swords.  As they entered the area, a palatable tension had gripped the group, eyes scanning the rocks for peril.

Except for the sounds of the horses and the wagon as they moved, the air had gone still.  In that stillness, Dominic heard the faint sounds of movement amongst the rocks.  He tried to locate the position of the sound, but it faded away.  There was a brief moment of quiet before Taric cried out as he launched a blast of clerics’ fire.  “Demons!”

Out of the rocks from both sides of the route, six Imps came leaping out, bodies surrounded by their power.  Taric’s blow struck one of the demons, slamming it back into a boulder.  The other clerics began to fight with the demons, deflecting the attacks while the soldiers lowered their spears, surging forward.

Right behind the demons came at least fifteen of their followers, howling and charging forward.  Dominic wheeled to face the ones on his side of the route while Moshanna leapt from his horse, moving forward, sword ready, more comfortable fighting on the ground.

As Dominic charged Shadow into the group coming out of the rocks, a wide wave of clerics’ fire streaked past him and slammed into the men.  The half-men in the group exploded into ash, but the others moved forward unharmed.  Dominic rode directly into them, sword swinging.  He caught one with a stroke to the head, the man crumpling to the ground, then deflected a swing from another’s sword.  Shadow ran another down, his hind legs kicking out.

Dominic realized that the close proximity of the rocks would prevent Shadow from effective maneuvering, so he slid from the horse, rolling to his feet and seeing the two men racing forward.  He drew his dagger and met their charge.  He slipped past the first man, deflecting his blade, and then drove his dagger into the throat of the second man.  Releasing the dagger as the man collapsed, he spun and engaged the other man.  His opponent was good, his sword moving quickly, but Dominic charged into his guard, the man’s sword deflected by his breastplate and smashed his forearm into the man’s face.  As the man staggered back, Dominic’s sword was already moving.  His thrust caught the man between his throat and the top of his armor.  The man collapsed, blood pulsing from the wound.

With no other followers near him, Dominic ran forward.  He caught a glimpse of a demon ahead.  He bounded off a short rock near the demon and leapt forward, sword overhead, point down.  The demon, which was directing its followers, must have heard his approach.  It spun, dark power coursing around its body.

Time seemed to slow for Dominic.  He saw the black fire gather in the demon’s hands, then launch towards him.  He knew that he could not avoid the blow. 
Embrace the pain.
  He grimly told himself, praying his momentum would allow him drive his sword home before he died.

Just as the demon fire reached his body, brilliant golden-white light burst from his sword.  The light shattered the demon’s attack, overwhelming its dark power.  Before the demon could react, Dominic’s sword slammed into its chest, the glowing blade sizzling as it slid in.  The demon screamed once, then convulsed, exploding into ash, driving Dominic back.

He stared at his sword for a moment, the blade normal again. 
It had to be Tomaris.
  He thought, recalling the old man handling his sword. 
He should have given me some warning.
  That sudden light has startled him so much that he had almost dropped the sword.

Shaking off his thoughts, he surged back into the fight.  Another demon fell to his sword, the light flaring again, and then he was engaged with three of the demons’ followers.  He was using all of his skill to keep their blades away, his single blade a blur as he parried their blows.  Suddenly, a spear point thrust from behind him on his left, taking one of his opponents in the stomach.  Another spear flashed past him on his right, knocking the other man back, followed by Stonebuilder with his sword in his hand.