The Crimson Claymore (30 page)

The eagle’s beak seemed to form into a smile as it nodded and leaped from her fingers and into the air. It flapped its wings and flew up high until it found a wind path in the sky, heading south. Sh’on quietly walked up and gently rested his hand on her shoulder. She didn’t turn around to observe him but kept her eyes attached to the direction the bird flew.

“I was going to suggest sending a few scouts, but it seems your idea will be swifter,” Sh’on laughed.

“I would go myself, but I’m afraid to leave.”

“And you should be. You are needed here. Etherond is a great captain, but if anything happens and it falls to him to command everyone, I feel chaos will be his fighting style. Andron has yet to grasp any leadership himself, even though I believe he would make a great captain.”

“He is young, but yes, I am in agreement.”

Starlyn took one last glance south before heading down into the camp. She explained to Etherond that she sent a scout to search for them, but she withheld that it was an eagle she sent. Andron would understand because he had seen her with birds before, but Etherond would most likely question her abilities. He seemed to accept her response and didn’t seem as on edge for battle as he was the day before.

Throughout the morning, he and Andron sparred each other, coming out with an equal number of winnings. Starlyn observed a few battles, but she had quite a few offers of engagement herself. It seemed many of the top swordsmen wanted to test their skill against a kheshlar. They figured they were at higher odds since she used a hammer rather than sword, but as they found out they were sadly mistaken. She even took the opportunity to really show off and battle a few of them at the same time. There were stunned expressions everywhere as they saw her defeat two or even three opponents.

Chanting began for Andron and Etherond to pair up and face her. Both the blade masters smiled at the thought but disregarded it, as if they would be too much of a challenge for her. It was that motion that sparked Starlyn’s interest. She was never one to back down from a challenge, and even she admitted that facing the two would be one of her most difficult tasks. The two were masters of the blade compared to the rest and had different fighting styles that would complement each other as allies.

Starlyn faced the two of them and bowed with her hammer clenched in her hand. Andron frowned, but Etherond smirked at the chance to have a rematch with her. He stroked his bronze-hilted broadsword before flashing a few fancy maneuvers through the air. Cheers erupted throughout the crowd louder than before as everybody circled around the three of them.

Etherond leaped forward with a quick, high thrust followed by a lower one. Starlyn avoided the first by sidestepping. She slammed her hammer onto the top of the blade on its low strike, causing the weapon to embed into the ground. Andron circled onto her other side with a few rapid strikes of shimmering metal. She avoided strike after strike with a few defensive maneuvers with her hammer. When Etherond reached her other side, she grasped the shield that she seldom used that hung on her back and brought it forth to block a strong impact from Etherond’s broadsword.

She didn’t use her shield often except in dire need, as it slowed different attacks she could accomplish by using two hands. The shield formed into a large star with two leather straps in the back where she slid her arm through and held the top tight in her palm. It appeared silver but instead was crafted of titanium, which was one of the hardest metals the kheshlars had found. A golden trim surrounded it to match the rest of her armor with a golden
S
in the center of the outside.

Both Etherond and Andron appeared surprised when they saw her shield and frantically searched for an opening through her tightened defenses. She didn’t let even an inch of play through her hammer or shield. Sparks surrounded her as they fell from her shield and hammer. Dead grass at her feet ignited in flames from sparks from the clashing weapons.

The crowd was no longer cheering or rowdy but instead was stunned into silence as they watched with disconcerted eyes. They opened the circle even farther to give them more room to fight. Most wore their jaws wide, as well as their eyes, as they studied the different moves. She only hoped that they learned a few tricks as they watched, to better prepare them for the battle ahead.

Etherond’s blade broke her defenses once to strike her shoulder, and as she dashed to the side Andron’s sword tripped her. As she stumbled, she threw her shield toward them, where it hit Etherond in the gut. She tossed it so the points wouldn’t pierce his flesh. When she rose back to her feet, she parried with Andron for a few moments until knocking his sword down with her hammer on her left side and leaping into the air to kick him in the jaw, causing him to release his sword and tumble back. She reached down and grabbed his sword and leaped into the air into a dropkick against Etherond’s chest. He tried to recover from the wind that had been knocked out of him as her foot stomped on his shoulder. She looked down at him and smiled. He sighed and let his head collapse onto the ground.

Nobody cheered, but everybody watched her intently. Andron walked over to her and bowed. She held her hand out for Etherond, who grabbed it and stumbled to his feet. Smiling at the two of them, she handed Andron his sword back and picked up her shield. As they stood there in silence, she could hear something distant in the air. She looked up and saw the eagle appear from high and glide down toward her.

Starlyn smiled and held her arm out. Everybody watched in amazement as the eagle landed on her outstretched fingers and began to chirp lightly. She nodded with acknowledgment, and the bird flew off into the air.

“What is it?” Andron asked.

“Searon is a day’s march south…with an army of at least ten thousand.”

“Dare we wait?” Andron asked.

Etherond smiled. “I say we rush to meet thy army; thy men are restless, and thou be ecstatic with this task.”

She turned to Sh’on, who appeared through the crowd. He smiled at her and nodded. Everybody around her was still as they awaited her command. She had never commanded so many—or any humans before, and now they all looked to her. Her mind traveled as she thought; she was excited to see Searon as well and finally get everything started.

She grinned. “We march south.”

Chapter 31

A
fter a while, Searon, Karceoles, and another young man came up the hill and met with them. The army stayed down the hill and waited.

“Is this your brother?” Andron asked, trying to find the resemblance between the two men but somehow missing it.

“No, my brother wasn’t able to make it; he’s managing the defenses of his city. This is his captain, Phoenix.”

Phoenix held his hand out and shook it with everybody there.

“This is Sh’on, a mage, who once helped us kheshlars against the draeyk,” Starlyn said.

Sh’on bowed and shook Searon’s and Phoenix’s hands. Then he stood in front of Karceoles. “Hello, Cousin.”

“How have you been, Shronan? I haven’t seen you in a very long time.”

“I’ve been traveling the universe; I always have to be where something is happening. So when this world doesn’t need me, I travel to another.”

“How exactly?” Karceoles raised an eyebrow.

“Ah…now that is my little secret.”

“It’s nice seeing you again; are you ready to get this started?”

Sh’on nodded.

“Are we going to head out in the morning?” Etherond asked.

“Who’s this?” Karceoles asked, bewildered.

“My name is Etherond; I’m leader of these ’ere men,” Etherond said, pointing over the hill.

“Let’s give our army a day’s rest; so we’ll leave day after tomorrow’s morning,” Karceoles announced.

“The men are well rested and ready for battle.”

“Ours are not; one more day isn’t going to strain you, Captain Etherond.”

“Let us not be bitter but instead rejoice in the presence of each other. Tonight, let there be a feast—and ale!” Xython stepped up and clasped his hand upon Etherond’s shoulder.

During the night, there was a celebration of the armies. There were some who drank too much, but most only drank enough to feel a slight relaxation. Most knew that at any given moment they could be attacked or be called for an attack. Andron and those from his town pulled out the pipe weed and shared with anybody willing to try it.

In a large crimson tent around a table sat all of the captains of the armies. Searon sat at the head with Starlyn and Karceoles on his sides. The wizard was smoking his pipe with the newfound pipe weed that Andron had introduced to him. Sh’on sat next to Karceoles, watching the wizard as if he were watching a child. Beyond that, it was Andron who sat next to Starlyn with Phoenix by his side, followed by Xython, Dennark, Mattenyi, and Extodus. On the other side next to Sh’on were Etherond, Leinard, Drahcirch, and Nhorjah.

The fourteen of them sat around the table as they ate quite the feast. Many discussions were going on about battle tactics as well as the course of attack that would make the most sense. The table and tent that they sat in were removed from one of the large wagons so they could make a command center. In the morning, it would be taken down after they decided their course of action. The decisions were to be made during the course of the meal.

“I don’t understand why we can’t strike the heart of the filthy creatures,” Etherond said with gravy dripping from his mouth and fist pounding on the table.

“Only fools rush in…you fool. What you desire will kill many more men than is necessary. There are other ways to approach this,” Sh’on said.

“The element of surprise would be effective; we should bash their heads in!” Drahcirch said as he brushed his medium chestnut hair from his eyes.

“The effect could be catastrophic. What if these creatures are expecting us, or notice our large army approaching?” Mattenyi asked, scratching at his thick orange-and-white beard.

“Shall we concentrate on one focal point, or would it be best to strike in sections?” Leinard asked.

Leinard and Drahcirch were the only two who weren’t wearing breeches. Instead, each wore a wool kilt, Leinard’s being red, black, and white, appearing in a plaid pattern. Drahcirch’s was green, black, and white with the same pattern. Both of them were from separate armies of men that joined them from far-out lands away from the city. They weren’t as civilized as many of the other folk, but their fighting tactics were extraordinary. Most wielded axes or blunt weapons, but the few who held swords were powerful fighters and held large broadswords.

“If we focus too much on one location, what stops them from attacking our homes?” Nhorjah asked.

Searon sat silent, twisting his left arm back and forth while fiddling with his two pearl buttons on his crimson silk shirt. He wasn’t used to wearing silk, and the texture felt odd to him. Karceoles insisted that he dress as a general when he’d be more comfortable in either his armor or a plain button-up cotton shirt. Out of all the men sitting at the table, only Searon was dressed in silk. It gave him the presence of leadership compared to the rest. Both Sh’on and Karceoles were the only ones in robes while most of the rest wore leather armor or plate mail. Searon felt lost without his crimson-crested claymore secured tightly in its scabbard. His eyes drifted to the corner where it rested on his dresser.

He was eager for the meeting to be over so he could attempt sleep once more. It didn’t come often for him because of the nightmares that broke his silent dreams every night. Sometimes, it felt like he could sleep for weeks, especially with the newfound stress of leading an attack, but once he lay down, his conscious wouldn’t allow him.

He found the conversational arguing between the men of different lands humorous. Most of them didn’t look his way as if they were afraid to see what his opinion would be. Instead, they constantly bickered between each other in an attempt to persuade Searon one way or the other. Instead of focusing on words or ideas of what they had to say, he focused on their actions and tone. It was the best way to tell the leaders from the followers, as well as those who would be too hardheaded to control.

“There are two outcomes that could come forth from either plan. If we choose to attack as one large force, we will be able to dominate settlement after settlement of both of these creatures. However, there is the likelihood that while our backs are turned there will be losses of our own. This is the swiftest route to destroy all the creatures that spawn in this land. However, a more effective, and safer, route would be to strike in small groups, scattered, in order to keep them on edge and too afraid to separate their armies to attack our cities. It would be a constant battle of trying to feed them to our larger force. The time it would take and the strategy would be overwhelming.” Karceoles paused to study Searon for a moment as he puffed his long-stem pipe. “However, it is possible, and would be more effective, as it would prevent as many losses from both our armies as well as the citizens in villages and cities.”

“A valid point and wise words. I am quite impressed with you, wizard,” Starlyn said softly into the silence.

Sh’on chuckled. “There are oftentimes even my cousin surprises me. Usually, his thick head and dry wit are his undoing. However, there are times I think he only uses his personality as a front to his actual knowledge.”

“Can ye handle such a task, Master Searon?” Leinard asked.

“If it pleases this council, strategy has always been in my favor in Crossguards,” Searon grinned.

The comment received chuckles from half of the group while the others sat in silence and seemed to stare at him in disbelief. Searon didn’t understand the seriousness of some people; without a bit of fun or jokes in life, it all seemed too bland to want to continue on. Karceoles sure kept things entertaining, but he seemed borderline insane sometimes.

“If you expect us to put all our trust into one who is skilled at a child’s game, then we are surely doomed,” Drahcirch said.

“Have you such little faith in one who not only a wizard supports, but a mage…and a kheshlar?” Karceoles challenged.