Read TWO HEADS TWO SPIKES (The Pearl of Wisdom Saga) Online
Authors: Jason Paul Rice
TWO HEADS TWO SPIKES (The Pearl of Wisdom Saga)
The Pearl of Wisdom Saga,
Volume One
TWO HEADS TWO SPIKES
By,
Jason Paul Rice
Cover Art by CJ McDaniel
Published by Jason Paul Rice
Copyright 2014 by Jason Paul Rice
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. All names are made up and used fictionally. Any resemblance to real people is completely coincidental. Any resemblance to real events is only part of the author’s imagination.
Special thanks: Mom, Nandita, CJ, Amy, Ken, and Steph.
For a view of the full color map go to:
2heads2spikes.com
PROLOGUE
The stranger pushed the young boy into the thick shrubbery and marched forward. Three unarmored, sword wielding men appeared out of nowhere, approaching from the front.
“That’s far enough right there,” said the first man.
“I’m just trying to do a little fishing,” the stranger replied as he stopped and put his hands up.
The second man barked, “Perhaps you haven’t heard then, the King don’t want anybody going near the river today, so you can turn right around now.”
The outsider asked,“And the King sent you three to forestall intruders?”
The men raised their swords in response. Ollor had invaded a foreign land, but he realized he was much larger than all three of these boys, who were tall, but not yet men. The troubled man stood tall and muscular, but sin still clung to his soul. He had greasy black hair that cascaded halfway down his back. His long beard and moustache cloaked most of his facial features. Ollor also wore the specially designed armor created by a wizard. But he did not want to kill these boys.
If they don’t attack, I can talk some sense into them. Oh Gods, too late.
All three men rushed Ollor from the front. In one swift motion he drew his sword and took the first attacker’s left sword arm off along with half of his shoulder. As quick as the sword went down, it flashed upward, the furious metal thrusting between the young man’s ribs and into his heart. Like lightning, Ollor pulled out the sword, spun around deftly, and took the second attacker’s head clean off. The third boy ran for his life away from the river, down a beaten trail. The warrior reached behind him for the longbow that always graced his back and plucked out an arrow with a broad, barbed head.
He closed one eye, drew back, steadied his hand and said, “Sorry young man, but I cannot have you running off and alerting any real guards.”
The arrow sizzled through the air, slicing straight through the third boy’s neck, dropping him to his knees immediately. He reached up with his right hand and felt the arrow tip dripping with his own blood. Ollor noticed that the blood coming from the back of the boy’s neck was black. The dying boy muttered some incomprehensible words as he gagged. He finally fell flat on his face, splintering the arrow and choking to death. He suddenly dissolved into a black liquid and melted into the ground. Ollor had never seen a coldomore before, but had heard stories of the demon skin changers turning into black blood and sinking into the ground after death. They were known to take over the body of a human or animal. Ollor froze in his tracks, staring at the shattered arrow on the ground. He quickly remembered the closing window of opportunity and focused again. He reached into his pocket to feel for the dragon coin; it was still there.
Ollor hastily made his way back down the path. In the past he had never felt bad after killing but this time he fought mixed emotions. Ollor was searching for resurrection of his buried soul and didn’t believe killing the young men would help matters. He knew he had to do it for the greater good of all, but for the first time the confused man felt remorse for his actions. Ollor bent down and pulled back the bramble. The young boy that he called Sunny was still there with both hands covering his mouth.
“You wanted to scream, didn’t you?”
The red-headed little boy nodded up and down, still with his hands over his mouth.
“It’s alright now, you can take your hands away,” Ollor reassured the boy.
He was starving and knew the boy must be too. His dark bluish-grey eyes peered up at the sky as he whistled gently. A huge black falcon with red eyes descended in a circular downward path. It released something from its claws just before landing on the man’s shoulder onto its customary perch. Ollor incurred permanent piercing on his right shoulder from the razor-sharp claws. The hairy, grisly man pounced on the rabbit that the falcon had dropped. The King’s river guards had left a fire burning nearby so Ollor, along with the boy and the falcon, went over to the swaying flames. He fell to his knees and butchered the meager prey. Shortly thereafter, he served charred meat to the boy and let the falcon feast on the remaining carcass and entrails.
Nightfall approached rapidly, multiplying the difficulties involved in this effort. Spotting a tiny basket in the Rushing River was not an easy task, even in broad daylight. Strangely this sudden burden soothed the hardened warrior’s soul. He had never imagined raising one child, let alone two, but redemption can prove a powerful motivation.
He closed his eyes and started to shake wildly as his arm rose up and touched the falcon. It launched itself into the air, rising quickly. It then took flight upstream along the river bank. The long-haired man and boy rushed out of the woods toward the river. The falcon returned quickly, squawking several times upon landing.
She is still on the way, more redemption. My soul may be saved. What kind of king casts away a child? I know it is customary, but still rather cruel. Just because she was born toeless? Now I have to find the third piece.
It was almost impossible to see anything as the sun strayed behind the rolling mountains faster than expected. Suddenly, the big onyx falcon took flight and screeched again. It glided close to the river and hovered over what appeared to be the cradle. The falcon clutched a large branch of the basket with its claws and fought the strong river current to pull it ashore.
Ollor and the boy were waiting. There she was, vanished toes as forewarned, but an innocent looking baby girl otherwise. The man pried the newborn from the makeshift raft. The basket washed back into the river when the boy snatched it. Ollor grabbed it from the boy and inspected the raft. He couldn’t understand how the bassinet had made it miles and miles down the extremely powerful river. He tossed it back into the river but a large beast of the water surged up and devoured the basket. The darkening sky made visibility poor so Ollor couldn’t figure out what he had just witnessed. It looked bigger than any river creature he had seen. He remembered tales he’d heard while growing up, about the river dragons in far-off lands, but he didn’t know what they actually looked like.
This is a real miracle. The first rescue was amazing and this one defied all logic. That raft should have sunk or been eaten by a river dragon within the first hundred feet. I have to find a sympathetic village away from any cities. Sin flows freely through dark city nights. The deep woods are no place for one child, let alone two and the baby will need shelter soon enough so we must move on. WE.
That was a good sensation. Now the man had a family to take care of, a new purpose in life. Ollor peered down at Sunny’s upper lip and reminisced about the boy’s mystical birth six years ago.
Ollor had been wronged by an evil woman several years ago and vowed revenge. He even faked his own death and lay low for a while. Then, the celebrated ex-soldier went on a gruesome and murderous campaign, heading straight for the Capitol of the kingdom. Therefore, he traveled as a marked man in these parts, but he had the most important mission of his life to carry out. Therefore, the outlaw plastered dank mud onto his shaggy face, disguising most of his distinguishable features. Detection spelled instant death.
The wayward drifter had recently altered his image and went by the name of Ollor. He had used a dull dagger blade to cut two self-imposed scars on both cheeks of his face. Ollor thought this would flush the bloody sin and hide his real identity. He had just turned over a new leaf and realized the error in his brutal ways. It took some heartfelt conversations with the wizard who had sent him on this soul-redeeming voyage. Ollor was in his late thirties and he tried to only speak to those necessary for his mission.
It felt like a warm summer day in the Capitol, even under the canopy of the surrounding forest. Ollor didn’t detect any danger from the King’s Guard as he surveyed the situation. He looked around for the baby boy that the wizard had told him to find. He received very few clues to go upon, so he followed his nose and the unusual smell of burning hair.
What in the Hells could be burning around here?
He reached into his pocket to feel the silver dragon coin. It was almost as big as his palm with a little pearl embedded in the dragon’s hand, right in the middle of the coin. He would need to show the coin to the school-master to gain entry for the children. The little wizard had instructed Ollor to find the boy and girl, then take them to the School of the Learned Warrior to learn physical skill and mental will. The wizard revealed to Ollor that the third piece of the plan would find him at the school.
Is this worth it? Is salvation really going to find its way into my polluted soul? I was told this is my destiny, and so it shall be. For betterment or death.
The stench grew stronger by the step, but eerily coupled with the smell of scorched flesh. His pace quickened as he heard the growl of an angry woods wolf nearby. That sound suddenly turned into painful shrieks from what seemed like the same animal. He hopped over a golden snake on the path as he drew closer to some smoke that billowed into the air. Ollor pulled aside a branch with different colored leaves to see the redemption of life.
A naked newborn baby lay alone on the rough forest floor. The tiny creature smiled and gurgled. A closer look showed a cleft palate and a recent cut on his tiny foot caused by a sharp blade.
How cruel can one be? To heave a defenseless baby to the jaws and claws of nature is torture enough without bleeding the poor kid. All because of a missing lip? I hope his father lives long enough for our homecoming.
He picked up the kid and clutched the baby to his chest. The corners of Ollor’s mouth curled up, almost smiling, for the first time in years. The area surrounding the child was unimaginable.
There were ten or fifteen charred animal carcasses around the sanguine baby. Most were still smoldering as if the baby was protected by the spirit of a fire breathing dragon. It looked like the remains of giant foxes, woods wolves, boars and a falcon burned beyond recognition.
What in all the Hells happened here? This baby surely cannot have the power to harness fire. I guess the little man warned me, unfathomable events will unfold before me.
Ollor snapped back to the present. He held the newborn close while he rubbed the boy’s auburn hair. Now that he captured the first two pieces, Ollor realized the journey was just beginning. As they walked downstream, just inside the cover of the woods, the young boy asked, “Is this my home?”
