The Cavalier (17 page)

Jonas felt a little uncomfortable, knowing how his story might sound, but he figured the truth was always the best answer. “It’s not mine, or it wasn’t mine anyway.”

“I gathered that. I noticed that knife earlier. I can’t see the blade but the pommel is no ordinary pommel and it is not the knife of a mere hunter. Any soldier can see that.” The sound of their horse’s hooves on the merchant road filled the pause in the conversation as Jonas chose his words.

“It belonged to the cavalier, Airos. I found it on the battlefield by his body. It was too beautiful to leave in the snow and blood, amongst the dead.” Jonas looked up at Cyn. “Should I not have taken it? Should I give it to Landon, or Allindrian, or you? What should I do with it?” asked Jonas.

Cyn smiled, chuckling to himself. “It’s okay, son. You did nothing wrong. It would have been a waste to leave that weapon there. Keep it, or maybe return it to the High One’s temple in Finarth, it’s up to you. I hold no misgivings if you want to keep it. Do you mind if I see it?”

“Not at all,” replied Jonas, sliding the blade from the leather sheath and handing it to Cyn. The silver blade shone brightly in the midday sun as Cyn inspected it.

“Amazing weapon. It looks elvish. It must be worth a dragon’s horde. I would not readily display it when we enter the city,” Cyn advised as he handed the blade back to Jonas.

“When I met Airos, he had the High One’s mark on both his hands. My mother said it means that he was a master swordsman. Is that true?”

“It is. I had heard of Airos before, but I never met him in my travels. He was a first rank cavalier, the highest rank in their order. I believe there are only a few first rank cavaliers in the lands of Kraawn. His death is a huge loss and it must be reported to the King in Finarth immediately. If he had a mark on both his hands that meant that he was a master swordsman with both hands, ambidextrous, very rare. He was the best, maybe even a match for a Blade Singer, as you heard Landon say.”

“Do you have to be a cavalier to get marked as a master swordsman?” asked Jonas.

“No, not necessarily, it depends on the mark. Some armies offer master rank marks that represent their imperial standards. They are all wizard marks, which makes them very expensive. Some kings give them out to soldiers that pass the master swordsman tests. It is very rare though; to pass the test is difficult and few have the tenacity to train as hard and long as it takes to get that mark. If a cavalier gains the mark then they are God Marked by their god’s symbol. I have only met four people with the master swordsman marks. One man is a general in the Annurien army, one was a Halyean cavalier out of Onith, in the west, and another is the master at arms in Finarth, along with Prince Nelstrom.”

“Onith? Halyean? I have never heard of them.”

“Onith is the capital of King Olek Landibar’s lands, far to the west, over the Tundren Mountains. Halyean is the god of sea, the main deity worshiped in the port cities that riddle the Algard coast. It is believed that Halyean is Ulren’s brother, but do not take my word for it, the gods are not my strong point.”

“What are the tests?” asked Jonas.

“Why?” Cyn laughed. “Do you want to become a master swordsman?”

Jonas paused. “Yes, I do,” he said firmly.

Cyn looked at him, shaking his head with a smile. “I see you are determined. It is a fine goal, but a very lofty one. Make sure you are prepared for failure as well as success,” he replied.

“What do you mean?” asked Jonas.

“They do not give the mark out freely. You must pledge your allegiance to a kingdom to get the training, or join the school for cavaliers, which is no easy task. Most young men who want to become a cavalier never even make it past the initiation phase, for there are tests of heart and courage that most men cannot pass.”

“If that is my destiny I will pass them,” Jonas said, his tone firm and confident.

Cyn glanced at Jonas, nodding his head in understanding. “You know young huntsman, part of me thinks that you might,” he said smiling. “Now enough talk. I feel like I’m traveling with a woman.”

Jonas laughed. They rode on in silence, taking in the beauty of the countryside, each immersed in their own thoughts.

***

On the ninth day they set up camp next to a little stream that flowed under the bridged road to meander through a flowering meadow. A large stand of trees flanked them on the left and the grassy meadow made for a soft welcoming campsite. Landon stepped down from his wagon looking for Allindrian. One of the mercenary guards saw him and rode up to him on his horse.

“You were looking for Allindrian, sir?” asked the blond haired warrior.

“Yes, Janson, have you seen her?”

“She has been scouting for several hours now. She should be back soon.”

“Very well, we’ll set up camp here.”

“Very good, sir,” the warrior responded with a nod and rode off to help facilitate the camp’s set up. The wagons, all twenty of them, were set up in a semi-circle with the mercenaries forming the other half of the circle. Inside the perimeter were Landon and the other workers and merchants.
 
Fil and Jonas slept in the middle with Landon.
 

Fil strode up to Jonas as he was adding wood to a fire. “Hey, Jonas,” he said, casually sitting down to warm his hands by the flames.

“Aye,” replied Jonas.

They sat together quietly for a while, enjoying the warmth of the fire as the rest of the men finished erecting the tents and getting the cooking pots going.

“You still plan on joining the Finarthian army?” asked Jonas, breaking the silence.

“I do,” Fil replied looking up at Jonas. “I have nothing left anyway. My choices are limited. I talked with Landon about it and he said that King Gavinsteal is a good king and that he would be a good ruler to fight for. He also said that King Kromm from Tarsis is a ruler worthy of my vows and that he is a mighty warrior king who is unbeatable in battle. But we are heading to Finarth now, so I think I will give King Gavinsteal my allegiance.” Fil tossed a stick into the fire and looked at Jonas, who was obviously in thought. “What’s on your mind, Jonas? Are you changing your mind about joining with me?”

Jonas looked up at the question. “No…I don’t know. I was thinking,” he hesitated, “about maybe going to Annure and trying to be a cavalier.”

Fil leaned back, startled by the response. “A cavalier? Do you know how hard it is to become a cavalier? Few are accepted and even fewer make it through the training.”

“I know. I talked to Cyn about it. You could come with me. We could try together. I know we could do it, Fil,” Jonas said, trying to convince himself as much as Fil.

“No, not me, I’ve never had much faith in the gods, Jonas, and I certainly have less now, considering what has happened to us.”

“You blame the gods for what happened to us?”

“Yes I blame them. Our entire town was massacred, Jonas, and for what?” Fil said angrily. “We did nothing to deserve this and the gods did nothing to stop it. I will not put my faith in gods who do not earn it.”

“The gods sent Airos to help us, and he died trying to save us. He was a first rank cavalier, Fil. The gods use cavaliers like Airos for their most important missions. They tried to help us. Our town was destroyed and our families killed, but don’t forget that Airos killed a Banthra, no small feat in itself and definitely a blow to the evil that is threatening our lands. You can’t blame the gods for actions of evil men and beasts,” Jonas said with conviction.

“That may be, but I just don’t have the faith. I’m sorry. And faith is definitely something you need to be a cavalier. If you want to attempt to become one, then you’ll have to do it on your own.”

They sat in silence for a few moments and then Fil stood up from the fire. “Let’s get some food”.

***

That night Jonas’s sleep was plagued by nightmares, boargs were again attacking their town, men and women were being torn to pieces. He could hear the horrifying screams of his friends and family which seemed to go on endlessly. In his restless sleep he twitched and kicked next to the smoldering fire.

Suddenly he felt a searing pain in his chest. It felt like hundreds of tiny needles stabbing his skin. He bolted upright, his left hand absently rubbing his stinging chest as he tried to calm himself down, his heavy breathing resonating in the deathly silent night.

He glanced quickly around the camp to see if anyone had noticed him. Why was his chest stinging again? Was it another warning? He looked around trying to shake off the fogginess of sleep that wouldn’t disappear.
 

Something seemed amiss. The air was heavy, almost suffocating. Everyone was sleeping soundlessly and a thick fog was slowly drifting around the camp. It was too still. The usual night sounds were absent. Animals, birds, insects; all were silent.

He got up slowly, grabbing his hunting knife. It was dark, and clouds had moved in to cover the bright moon and stars. He could barely see anything, but the burning embers of the fires reflected a reddish glow on the immediate surroundings. Something was wrong, he could feel it. He felt sluggish and frightened; the fog was floating around them like a wraith as he moved from fire to fire noticing that everyone was sleeping, including the guards who were supposed to keep watch.

The darkness seemed to get heavier and his body felt slow and lethargic. He felt disorientated and his mind whirled with dizziness. Then his chest burst with pain again, a stinging pain that hammered the dizziness away and he began to think clearly.

Something was out there, in the darkness, and it was not good. He had been warned again, like the day with the ogre. Silently he ran to Allindrian’s campfire and found her sleeping soundly as well, her silver sword lying across her body. Kneeling down he quietly shook her, but she wouldn’t wake up. He shook her again and finally her eyes slowly opened.

“Allindrian, something is happening. Wake up,” Jonas whispered, shaking her harder. Her eyes were drifting around until finally they focused on Jonas and she leaped clumsily to her feet, wobbling slightly as if she were drugged. She shook her head to try and clear her mind, then finally she looked back at Jonas and he could tell that she was fully awake, her eyes were alert and they focused with intensity as she realized what was happening.

“Ul anthar Luminos!” Allindrian shouted, holding her hand in the air. From her fist flared a brilliant light that illuminated the entire camp and the meadow beyond.
 
Jonas looked out into the darkness and his breath caught in his throat.

The scene he saw sent a chill down is spine. In the darkness around the camp a group of hulking boargs slowly crept towards them. They had been using the cover of darkness and fog to slowly creep through the meadow and slay them in their sleep.

Allindrian flung the bright globe into the air where it stayed suspended ten paces above the camp. She drew her silver sword, its innate elven magic glowing brightly in the dark night. “Men, awake and fight! We are under attack!” Allindrian yelled, leaping toward the boargs fearlessly.

The camp quickly awakened, the battle hardened mercenaries shaking off the grogginess and rising to the occasion. The boargs attacked quickly and with ferocious abandon. The four warriors who were keeping watch on the perimeter were torn apart like rag dolls. They died horrible deaths as they slowly awoke from whatever dark magic made them fall asleep.

The screams of the dying men were enough to wake all the men, and soon everyone was fighting for their lives. The attack fell upon them so quickly that there was no time for organization or discipline. Lacking a proper formation, they just had time to grab their weapons and stand up before the ruthless boargs were upon them.

The screams of the fighting urged Jonas on, freeing him from the initial fear. With great speed he vaulted onto the seat of Landon’s wagon where he kept his bow. Standing up high on the wagon seat, he nocked an arrow, searching for a target. He saw Allindrian leap from boarg to boarg, her silver blade spinning, leaving a glowing blur in its path as it carved into the monsters. He heard the blade whistle and
sing
as Allindrian cut a path of death through a group of boargs. The song of her blade brought courage to his heart and his shaking arm stilled as he sought an enemy.
 

The ferocious animals sought her tiny form with their deadly claws and teeth, but she maneuvered through them easily, avoiding their attacks and delivering elven steel with practiced precision. Jonas was almost mesmerized by her dance. He had never seen anything like it. She moved like a dancer, her blade singing through the air with impossible speed. The screams of the dying tore his gaze away from her as he quickly resumed his search for a target.

He saw Cyn swinging his huge broad sword back and forth, trying to hold two boargs at bay as his men moved in to help. Jonas sighted in the boarg to Cyn’s right and let the shaft fly, quickly nocking another arrow. The shaft hit the boarg in the chest, wounding it enough to give Cyn a quick reprieve, which he used to his advantage.

The boarg stumbled back as a second arrow slammed into its chest. Cyn then focused on the other boarg, swinging his mighty sword down on top of its shoulder just as it was about to leap upon him. His blade sunk in deep, cleaving through heart and lungs.

The second boarg, badly injured by Jonas’s arrows, clumsily swung its massive arm at Cyn. It was a killing blow, but Cyn, sensing it coming, ducked beneath it. He lunged forward and lanced the boarg through the abdomen, jerking the blade hard to his right, opening up the beast’s belly. The animal howled horribly, leaping back, clutching its gruesome wound, trying to keep its entrails from falling out onto the grass at its feet.