The Book of Deacon (27 page)

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Authors: Joseph Lallo

Tags: #fantasy, #magic, #warrior, #epic, #epic fantasy series, #dragon, #the book of deacon

BOOK: The Book of Deacon
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"Easy, little one," he said, as the elated
beast rubbed her head on the weakened warrior.

"Sit, Leo. You shouldn't be awake. Not yet,"
she said, trying to shake the cobwebs from her head.

"I shouldn't be alive. Those wounds were
dire. I should know. I have delivered more than a few myself," he
said.

"I healed you," she said.

"Healed me? I don't seem to remember you
speaking of such a talent when last we met," he said.

"There was no such talent to speak of at the
time," she replied.

"And the remarkably affectionate dragon?" he
asked.

"That's Myn. I found her a few months ago. As
for the affectionate part, you are the first person she has ever
been anything short of hostile toward," Myranda said, as Myn
rapidly scampered from her lap to his and back again before running
off toward where she had dropped her chewed-up helm to retrieve
it.

"Well, I have a way with animals," he said,
slowly scanning the battleground.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"My mind is not what it should be. I count
twelve bodies. Am I correct?" he asked.

"I am not thinking very clearly either, but I
believe so," she said.

He released a sigh and slumped against the
tree.

"Finally . . . that is all of them. After all
of this time, I don't have to look over my shoulder anymore," he
said. He tried to raise his hand to his forehead, but winced in
pain and let it fall again.

"You must have a broken bone that I missed,"
Myranda said, reaching for her crystal. A surge of dizziness
assured her that it would be foolish to attempt to speak a spell
right now.

"You seem unwell. Can I help?" he offered,
noticing her wavering posture.

"Don't mind me. You are the one who needs
help. Can you move your fingers?" she asked.

"Somewhat," he answered. "And it only hurts
when I move it. It is not broken; I have broken it often enough to
know the difference."

"You should have a sling for it until I can
heal it for you," she said.

Myranda pulled the worn old cloak from inside
the new one. Carefully she tore a strip from it.

"Isn't that your uncle's cloak?" he
asked.

"It was," she said.

"I thought it meant a lot to you," he
said.

"It did, and does, but it is the only
material I have that would make for a decent sling. He would have
wanted it to be useful. I can't think of a better use," she said,
tying a few knots to fashion a sling.

Myranda fitted the sling over the injured
arm.

"There," she said.

"It is a fine sling," he said.

Myn returned with the helmet and curled up
between them. Leo spied her toy. He scanned the remains of the
battle once more.

"That helm. It didn't come from one of these
soldiers," he remarked, his voice tense.

"No, no it came from a--" Myranda began.

"An elf woman," he finished.

"Yes, how did you---" she asked.

"She is the leader of the Elites. She was not
with the squad that followed me here. Where did you get this?" he
demanded.

"We had a run-in with her on the way here,"
she said, his desperation beginning to affect her.

"Then she is following you! But I . . . Never
mind, no time. How long ago did you get here?" he asked, his tone
now that of a professional.

"Perhaps a week. They couldn't have made it
here until at least a half-day after I did," she said.

He drew in a deep breath.

"They are close, and getting closer. South,
now!" he said.

Myn was on her feet and in motion as soon as
he mentioned a direction. Myranda helped him to his feet and the
trio moved on as quickly as their various impairments would allow.
Leo snatched up the metal spike. It was stained with a dozen
different shades of blood. Carrying it was a labor for his
still-weary body, but he refused to put it down.

"What is going on?" she asked.

"They must think that you are a bit more
dangerous than you really are. They are treating you like they
treated me. Otherwise they would have found you and killed you
hours after they arrived. Instead, they must think you are leading
them into an ambush. Once they see the two of us in this condition
and the bodies that I left behind, they will put a quick and very
unpleasant end to our freedom, and likely our lives," he said.

"How can you be so sure?" she asked. "Why are
they after you?"

"Suffice to say a few weeks after I met you
this group took time out of their busy schedule of hunting down an
assassin to hunt down me!" he said. "I couldn't avoid them for long
and very shortly I was subjected to their hospitality in abundance.
You learn much about the way people work when you are subjected to
their techniques nonstop for a number of months."

"What are we going to do?" Myranda asked.

For a while, Leo was silent. His face was
plastered with a look of deep contemplation as he walked. Finally,
he spoke.

"There is a place in this forest, not far
from here, that can offer safety for as long as it is required. I
came here seeking it. The entrance can be reached by sunrise, even
at this pace. Unfortunately the Elites will reach us far before
first light. It will be a miracle if they do not reach the
battleground before five minutes have passed. We cannot fight them.
That would be suicide.

"You have to reach the sanctuary. The
entrance is a cave with a stream running from it. Go inside and
follow the stream. You won't need light. Just follow the water to
its source, no matter how long it takes. When you can feel it
bubbling from the rocks, I want you to climb the wall directly
above it and find the smallest opening. Crawl inside and follow it
to its end. From there, feel the walls at every branch and take the
path that is smoothest. When the walls are smooth as glass, the
path should be clear," he said purposefully, without stopping.

"But how are we going to make it there?" she
asked.

"You are going to ride a horse that I am
going to liberate from its rider," he said.

"What about you?" she asked.

"I will hold them off long enough for you to
get out of sight," he said.

"But you said it was suicide to fight them!"
she said.

"It is. I don't care. I am determined to get
you out of this alive. You saved my life. No one else in this
forsaken world would have given me a second thought. A person like
you deserves to make it through this. If they get you, they will
lock you away until they know what they need to know, and then they
will kill you. It is the fate that someone like me has been headed
for since birth, but you don't deserve it. You are so unique, so
pure. You
must
go on! Honestly, you should have left me to
die. You are better off without me. But you saved my life, and now
at least I can have a chance to do the same. Perhaps it will earn
me a high place in the afterlife," he said.

"No--I didn't save your life to have you
throw it away. We are all making it out of this somehow. The three
of us," she demanded.

#

Not far away, the soldiers drew nearer. There
were sixteen of them, riding on fifteen horses. A fire burned
inside them as they came upon the bodies of their fallen brethren.
There were tracks leading into the woods. A trio of them, one human
and two beasts. At full gallop, the Elites followed them into the
thick, dark woods. With a few brief words, seven of the soldiers
dropped back, holding their position while the remaining eight
horses continued. Another command from the lips of the leader
brought the second group to a halt. There was no one in sight, but
the tracks had ended. Trigorah spoke.

"Myranda Celeste," she commanded. Hers was a
clear and confident voice that carried every ounce of authority
that her rank did. She bore a steely, impenetrable look of duty on
her face.

After receiving no answer, the warrior drew
her sword in one slow, deliberate motion. The blade sang against
the sheath, gradually revealing five radiant blue points along its
length, the tips of crystals like the one she had wielded during
the pursuit. She then dropped from the back of the horse, signaling
that the soldier who had been sharing a horse to take her place.
The elf brandished the short sword in one hand and drew a mystic
gem from a pouch at her belt. A few more words from her lips and
the gem obeyed her just as the soldiers had. She tossed the crystal
into the dwindling piles of snow just past the trees where the
tracks had ended.

"If you value your life, you will reveal
yourself before that crystal's spell is cast," she warned.

The light from the gem grew, illuminating the
snow bank with its eerie blue glow. The air seemed alive with
energy. Hair stood on end as glowing tendrils flicked out from the
blinding gem. On the orders of the leader, blinders were quickly
dropped over the horses eyes and all soldiers looked away. Myranda
and Leo dove from behind the trees just as fractures on the
crystal's surface gave way. The whole of the stand of trees, and
perhaps the whole of the forest, was bathed in an utterly silent
burst of the same white-blue light that Myranda had come to
fear.

When the darkness came rushing back in, those
things nearest to the center of the blast were smoldering. Bark was
stripped from trees and the snow was reduced to a sizzling pool
amid blackened ground. Myranda and Leo climbed to their feet and
readied their weapons. Leo held his spike at the ready in his one
healthy arm. Myranda held her knife as her father had taught long
ago. The elf coolly surveyed her prey.

"You are Myranda Celeste," the general
stated.

"I am," Myranda replied. Her mind was not
much clearer than it had been when she had first seen the elf's
face, but this time, the answer became clear. "And you are Trigorah
Teloran."

The soldiers stirred, some drawing their
weapons. A motion from the general quieted them.

"I am pleased that you remember me. I have
been sent by the highest of authorities to bring you to justice. If
you cooperate, no harm will come to you. If you resist you will be
taken by force," Trigorah said.

"I didn't do anything, Trigorah," Myranda
said. "I did not kill those men."

The soldiers were again rattled, requiring a
spoken reprimand from their leader to settle.

"It is not my place to question your guilt or
innocence, and it is not your place to do me the dishonor of
speaking my given name. Perhaps you were worthy of that long ago,
but you lost the right when you ran afoul of the Alliance Army. You
will address me as General Teloran or not at all," she demanded,
her tone wavering slightly with the anger she felt.

Leo grinned.

"So, Trigorah, how do you like my handiwork?
A fitting retribution, I feel, for the torture," he said,
attempting to push the anger further.

The soldiers stirred again. One raised a
spear and made ready to heave it at the offender. No word came to
stop him.

"Take care, malthrope. At the moment, my
orders do not include your capture. If you submit, you too will be
brought to justice without harm--but another word out of your
wretched maw and my men will deliver you to the shallow grave you
have earned," the general warned.

"Look at the horrors he has been through. How
do I know you do not have the same in store for me? What is to stop
me from standing my ground and losing my life rather than face the
same fate as he?" Myranda demanded.

"That capture and subsequent treatment of the
beast was at the hands of my associate. His methods are quite
different from my own--wait . . . you are stalling.
Where
is
the
dragon!?"

The cries of terrified horses came as an
answer as Myn did as she was told. While the tense exchange was
taking place, the dragon had taken a wide berth around the
immediate threat and sought out those soldiers Leo had predicted
would be left as backup. Bursts of flame and slashes of claws sent
the fear-crazed horses in all directions. As the dragon continued
to stir up unseen chaos, Leo made his move. He swiftly moved in on
the nearest soldier and, with a few deft strikes with his
unconventional weapon, unseated him from his steed. He then hurled
the heavy spike, burying it in the chest of a soldier moving to
seize Myranda. The girl rushed to the horse that Leo was mounting,
the weapon of a fallen soldier already in his hand.

Suddenly, an increasingly familiar feeling
came to her, as a cold blade was pressed to her neck. It was
Trigorah.

"Everyone hold still!" the leader
demanded.

The soldiers quickly obeyed, as did Leo.

"You could have run, but you didn't. This
girl means something to you," she said, addressing the
malthrope.

"You won't kill her. Your orders were to take
her alive," he said.

"Death is not as permanent as you think," she
said. "Now drop your weapon, or would you like to experience the
other side firsthand?"

Leo obeyed.

"I thought one more word would mean my
death," he said.

"I've changed my mind. I am sure that my
superiors are quite displeased with my associate and his failure to
prevent your escape. Now I will show them never to doubt me again.
I will bring both prizes," she said. "It is a shame. You are a
peerless warrior, and Myranda had such potential. I pray that you
see the light and join us. It would be an honor to fight beside
you. The men you killed were like brothers to me, but they knew the
risks. These were the deaths that they had chosen. Their souls will
rest peacefully so long they are replaced by those of worth."

Myranda struggled briefly, but it was clear
that with the blade of the sword held to her throat, escape was
impossible. Her mind raced. The sights and sounds of the conflict
flashed through her mind again and again. There had to be something
. . . Yes! That would work! If only she could remember. What were
the words? Finally the answer came. She worked her hand slowly to
the pouch that hung at the general's belt. In one quick move, she
shoved her hand inside and spoke the words that the general had
used to bring the first gem to life.

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