The Cavalier (13 page)

Jonas did not enter Gorum’s home. He did not want to see the body of his mother, especially if she had been eaten by winter scavengers. He wanted to remember her as she was, not how she died, and he knew that if he saw her torn and dismembered body that that image would forever be imprinted in his mind. So he avoided the home, as did Fil his own, and they both quickly performed their tasks and departed the town.

After the short re-supply trip to Manson, they began their sojourn east. They pushed themselves hard the first day, eager to get as far away from the town as they could, to distance themselves from the memories of that horrible night. The sun had set and the golden rays of warmth had long dropped behind the tall pine trees, leaving the mountain trail bathed in the cold shadows of dusk. Jonas and Fil set up camp in a clearing just off the trading road. It was still cold and patches of snow decorated the landscape.

“Should we light a fire?” asked Fil, leaning his pack against a fallen log and stretching his sore back.

“Some warm oats would do us well right now,” responded Jonas. He, too, took off his pack and looked at Fil, hoping that he would make the decision on whether or not to light a fire. It was always a risk to light a fire at night. They both knew it, but the desire for warm food after a long hard hike began to overcome their caution.

Fil shrugged his shoulders as he dug in his pack for his tinderbox. “Let’s light a brief fire, cook our oats, and then we’ll put it out.”

“Good plan,” Jonas agreed. He quickly started a small hot fire while Fil prepared the meal of oats and salt. The food was good and they washed it down with cold mountain water. The oats warmed their bellies and they leaned back against a log and relaxed. The icy fingers of night were creeping into the clearing, leaving them in complete darkness except for the small amount of light radiating from the glowing red coals left over from their fire.

“Should we douse the coals?” asked Jonas.

“No, the light is nice, not to mention the warmth. The light is minimal. I think it is fine,” answered Fil, pulling his traveling cloak over his shoulders. Jonas shivered, wrapping his wool cloak around him tightly, hoping to keep the chilling cold away.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Jonas finally spoke. “Fil, will you tell me how my mother died?” Jonas had never worked up the courage to ask Fil about what he saw that dreadful night. He didn’t think he could take it, but now he was stronger, and he wanted to know. He wanted to know how she suffered so he would never forget her. The news would be hard to hear, but he was prepared for that.

Fil glanced up and Jonas could just make out the reluctance in his eyes under the faint glow of the coals. “Are you sure, Jonas…you really want to know?”

“I do. Please tell me what you saw.”

Fil hesitated. “Okay, but it will not be easy to hear.”

“I need to know,” was all Jonas said.

Fil sighed. “I will tell you what I saw.” He took a deep breath. “The battle was not going well. Everywhere the townspeople were being killed. The boargs were unstoppable. The cavalier had left to fight the Banthra and he gave orders to Gorum to get as many people to safety as he could. So I followed Gorum to his home where I assumed he was gathering up you and your mother. Instead I find a boarg feeding on his remains. I remember feeling so much anger. It all just exploded out when I saw what the boarg had done to Gorum. I went berserk and stabbed it in the back with my spear. The beast jerked away from me and I couldn’t remove my spear. It was injured, but it was not dead. The thing’s jaw was badly damaged, probably by Gorum, and my spear had pierced its back deeply, but it still came at me. I grabbed Gorum’s sword on the ground and swung at its neck as hard as I could. That finally killed the thing.” Fil paused for a minute to look at Jonas skeptically. “You sure you want to hear the rest?”

“Yes, please, Fil. I want to know,” Jonas responded, his eyes wide with emotion.

“Okay,” Fil whispered. “It was then that I heard a noise against the wall near Gorum. It was your mother. She was partly covered by a dead boarg, and I rushed to her side. She held a bloody knife in her hand. The boarg’s throat had been cut. She had killed it but she was beyond any help. Her throat had been cut open by the boarg’s talons.”

Fil stopped for a moment as Jonas wiped tears from his eyes. “Was she alive? Did she say anything?” Jonas asked, his voice catching in his throat.

“Yes, she was barely alive. With her last strength she grabbed my wrist and told me where you were hiding, and made me promise to take care of you. She was not in pain Jonas, she was just thinking of you,” Fil said lamely in an attempt to lessen Jonas’s grief.

There was silence for a few moments as Jonas regained his composure, wiping the remaining tears from his face. “Thank you for telling me. I’m glad that you did.”
 

Suddenly a low growl emanated from the darkness not too far behind them. Jonas’s body went rigid. He reached for his recently claimed short sword lying next to him. Fil reacted similarly, grabbing his spear. They were both up and facing the forest behind them, their weapons held before them in shaking hands.

“What was that?” whispered Jonas.

“It sounded like a boarg,” replied Fil, grasping his spear tightly. His voice was dripping with fear but his stance was firm as his wide eyes scanned the darkness.

Just then, another growl came from behind them. Jonas spun to face the darkness holding his sword protectively before him. They were back to back, the darkness of the night sucking away the light as the red embers slowly died. They said nothing, too afraid to talk, and not sure what to say anyway.

Suddenly a loud roar erupted from the darkness followed by a gray shape flying through the air towards Fil. He leaped to the side, jabbing his spear at the attacking boarg. The spear tip hit the beast in the side as the huge beast scattered the remaining coals. The boarg howled in pain as it gripped Fil’s spear, snapping it like a twig.

Jonas rolled out of the way of the boarg to come up standing in darkness. Thankfully the moon was out and its bluish glow lightly blanketed the area. It was not much, but it was enough to barely illuminate a second boarg barreling towards him like a charging bull.

Jonas got his sword up just as the beast hit him with tremendous force, launching him through the air. He landed hard on his back. The air whooshed from his lungs as he struggled to get up. Miraculously he had managed to hold onto his sword, raising it in defense against the rushing boarg.

But he was not fast enough. The boarg lashed out with one of its large clawed hands, and Jonas, scurrying on his back, fought frantically with his sword, cutting the beast across the arm. The animal roared, and with lightning speed, used its other arm to grab Jonas’s neck. The boarg’s strong claws began to crush his throat. The pain intensified as the boarg squeezed, lifting Jonas into the air. He felt himself grow weaker but he still managed to swing his sword down toward the boarg’s arms. The boarg batted the weapon away with its other hand. Jonas felt his neck tighten as his airway was slowly choked off. His eyes began to blur and his head swam from dizziness as the boarg brought him closer to its open mouth.

Fil dropped the broken spear and drew his short sword from the sheath at his hip. He was just able to raise the blade as the boarg swung its clawed hand towards his chest. Stumbling backwards Fil chopped his sword down in a powerful swing, cutting the beast deeply across its forearm. But the animal continued its attack unfazed. The boarg roared, lashing out with its other hand, four sharp claws slicing shallow cuts across Fil’s chest as he leaned back from the attack. He stumbled further backwards, frantically trying to evade the animal’s deadly claws.

Jonas struggled and kicked, trying to free himself from the boarg’s iron grip. He managed to grab onto the animals thick hairy forearm with both hands and dug in his fingernails, hoping to break the beasts hold on him, but his efforts were to no avail. The animal kept squeezing and Jonas’s vision swam even further as his oxygen depleted brain began to shut down.

Suddenly, the grip loosened, and as Jonas gasped for air, his vision cleared. The boarg had dropped him to the ground. Howling in pain, the angry beast spun around towards the darkness. Jonas, lying on his back and holding his injured throat, could clearly see two white feathered arrows embedded in the boarg’s muscled back.

Out of the darkness, came a large fur covered body. In the grayness of night it looked like another boarg, but it wasn’t. The form materialized out of the darkness and moved toward the boarg with amazing speed, moonlight reflecting off a glimmering blade. The injured boarg lashed out with a clawed hand but the newcomer quickly ducked under the swing, slicing his glowing blade across the beast’s abdomen. Then the savior raced past the dying beast without a second look. Jonas couldn’t tell if the warrior’s sword was actually glowing or if it was just the reflection of the moonlight off the blade’s mirror like finish.

Fil tripped over a fallen log, swinging his sword left and right trying to keep the boarg away from him.
 
He landed on his back and lifted his sword hoping to fend off the attack that he knew was coming.

The remaining boarg lashed out, its dangerous arm only a blur as it easily batted Fil’s sword out of his hand. Instantly Fil felt the boarg’s tremendous weight as it landed on top of him. He grimaced, struggling under the weight and strength of the animal, feeling the boarg’s claws dig into his flesh. The boarg lifted its head towards the moon and roared defiantly, eager to feed on the flesh of its prey.

Jonas followed the warrior with wide eyes as he leaped over the burning and scattered coals, his glimmering blade spinning through the air toward the last boarg who was now on top of Fil.

The boarg’s roar was cut short as the razor sharp sword sliced through its exposed neck. Blood spurted like a fountain from the gruesome wound as the animal’s head disappeared into the night.

The weight of the boarg disappeared as the beast fell to the side. Fil frantically scooted away from the dead body, wiping its blood from his face and eyes. He didn’t know what had happened and he could barely see anything in the darkness. Then a dark shadow of a man stood above him blocking out the moon’s light. He carried a shimmering blood stained blade in his right hand.

“Get up, boy. Ya don’t need to fear me,” the man said to Fil. His voice was deep and raspy. The shadow disappeared as the man moved away from Fil.

Jonas got up slowly, his hand still rubbing his injured throat. The man did not look at Jonas as he began to flick a few of the burning coals back into a small pile.

“Get wood, Jonas, a fire will help chase away de fear that is now gripp’n ur heart,” their rescuer said.

Jonas recognized the voice and the burly fur covered form that knelt by the embers. The man had added a few small sticks to the coals and a flame quickly erupted, painting the man’s face with an orange glow. His face was covered in hair, but Jonas could just make out a small smile as Tuvallus turned towards him.

“Good to see ya again, boy.”

The fire burned brightly and the heat was welcoming. Tuvallus was right; the bright warm flames chased away the fingers of fear that grasped his heart after the boargs’ attack.

Tuvallus was heating up some tea in a tarnished metal pot that hung over the dancing flames. The aromatic spices in the tea reminded Jonas of his mother. He lost himself in his thoughts for a moment before looking up at Tuvallus. The man was stirring the tea with a metal spoon.

“Thank you, Tuvallus for saving us,” Jonas said.

“Yes, we are in your debt,” added Fil with a nod.

Tuvallus looked up at Jonas and Fil. “You owe me nuthin,” he grunted. “My appearance was your luck, that is all,” he said brusquely.

“Maybe so, but you didn’t have to aid us, so we thank you nonetheless,” Jonas replied smoothly.

Tuvallus grunted again and nodded his head in acknowledgement. Then, taking a large metal spoon he ladled some hot tea into two cups. He handed them each a cup before pouring some for himself and leaning back against a log. Digging into his pack he pulled out a small wood box with a lid. He tossed the box to Fil who caught it, spilling a bit of his tea in the process. “Healing ointment...clean your cuts with water and dress the wounds with the ointment. It will help rid the wound of infection.”

“My thanks,” responded Fil as he set his tea down to clean his wounds. “How did you come across us, Tuvallus?” he asked.

“I was hunten when I came across a huge buck, the biggest I’d eva seen. I tracked it for a day and then it jist vanished….no sign…nutten. That is when I saw ur tracks, and the boargs’ tracks followun use. The tracks led me here…just in time it would seem.”

Tuvallus’s speech was fairly primitive. Years of living on his own didn’t make for lots of conversation, and in time his spoken language deteriorated, giving him just another reason not to interact much with people.

Fil glanced at Jonas, and Jonas wondered if he was thinking the same thing. Was Tuvallus’ sudden appearance just coincidence? Jonas couldn’t rule anything out considering what had happened to him. Jonas made a mental note to talk to Fil later in private.

“Tuvallus, I have never seen anyone fight like that. Where did you learn to do that?” Jonas asked.

Tuvallus drank from his steaming mug of tea before he answered. “I was a soldier in the Tarsinian army many years ago. Now, boy, when u goen to tell me what happened to ya?” Tuvallis asked, clearly changing the subject. “The last I saw of ya, you could barely walk. Now you be lookin fine.”