Wielder of the Flame (56 page)

The thing fell sideways as the Sword of the Phoenix cut it
precisely in half.

Laura drew her short sword and dagger combination that Marad
had lightened and strengthened. Both blades had a sort of cerulean hue to them.

Laura was about to take a step forward, thinking that Marc
had clearly vanquished the unsuspected foe when Marc put up his hand.

The top half of the thing turned around on its hands, its
teeth still gnashing and it scampered towards them, its already rotting bowels
trailing behind it.

Marc lifted up the Sword of the Phoenix and brought it down,
skewering the thing’s head and brain with a sickening squelching thunk.

Laura shuddered, remembering her last encounter with such
monsters.

Marc thought the thing would stop moving but it continued to
claw at the blade, trying to free itself, trying to get at Marc.

Marc withdrew his weapon and this time brought the sword
down in a chopping motion, severing the punctured head of the monster from its
body. The body, without a head, finally lay still, but the mouth and the half
sunken eyes of the head continued to move about wildly, teeth gnashing.

Laura stomped on the head with her armored boot once, then
again, and again and again until the head was nothing more than a messy bumpy
paste.

Just as Laura was finishing stomping her foot against the
severed head they heard human and yet inhuman moans and cries and the sound of
several more things approaching the entrance they had made.

“I’ll take point,” Marc said, realizing only after he said
it that Laura might not know what that meant, but continuing with his thought
anyway and hoping she would understand, “and try and take out as many as I can,
you pick up any that get by me and finish off any that just won’t die, yeah?”

Laura nodded and Marc stepped forward.

Four of the inhuman lumbering things rushed through the
opening and immediately upon seeing Marc and Laura, charged forward.

Marc let the fire on the Phoenix Blade flare brightly as he
swung at the oncoming enemies. 

The magical flames burned quickly through them, the rotting
flesh and brittle bones disintegrating quickly.

Two fell to the side, their lower parts burned severely, but
still they scrambled forward. Laura brought her cerulean tinted blades to bear
and quickly severed the two heads from the bodies.

In the mere seconds it took the first four to fall three
more came into the hallway. Marc made quick work of them, leaving nothing for
Laura to bother with.

Just as the three fell, three more came in, followed quickly
by two, and then six.

Marc let the fire of the Phoenix Blade roar fiercely,
torching the assailants, one after the other in quick succession.

Laura hacked away at almost half a dozen leftovers before
the things stopped coming.

Marc let the fire blink out as the monsters ceased to enter
the hallway.

They worked their way through the bodies, making sure
nothing was moving before stepping back and leaning against the wall.

Marc could feel his breath coming quickly and a bit of sweat
drip down from his nose.

He moved towards the entrance.

“Give me a moment,” Laura said, “Using my magic from the
Oracle to here has drained a lot of my energy.

“All is well,” he nodded.

They sat as near to the light and as far away from the piles
of corpses as they could. Marc broke out the water and they drank.

“Puck and Sesuadra are still alive,” Laura said.

“How do you know?” Marc asked.

“They must be,” she continued. “I have had something similar
happen to me before, when I was just beginning. I would see the door I wanted
to pass through but did not make it and I still reappeared near where I wanted
to go.”

“So they must have landed nearby Sulendald, if that’s where
we are.”

Laura nodded.

“Now, how high from the ground did they enter, I do not
know.”

They took a few more drinks of water. And sat in silence.

“They’re called Zombies,” Marc said after another moment.

“What?” Laura asked.

“Zombies,” Marc replied, “Where I’m from we call these
zombies. They are the dead brought back to life. They’re bite can turn a person
into one of them as well.”

“Horrible,” Laura said, “Zombeez?” she repeated, her voice
indicating a question, “I am sorry,” she continued, “what a horrible thing to
have to deal with.”

Marc shook his head, “They’re not real where I’m from.
People just talk about them in stories.”

“They are real here,” she said.

Marc looked at the stack of dismembered and burnt corpses
and the realization of it quickly sunk in.

Yes, indeed they are quite real.
He thought.

Kimira

Sesuadra watched as Laura and Marc
disappeared, still headed towards the portal at the end of the tunnel.

An immense pain suddenly exploded across his hand, quickly
traveling up his forearm. He felt as if he was going to burn alive.

Then suddenly Syril was there, grabbing him with her beak
and the pain began to subside.

The creature let out a reassuring screech and then flung
Sesuadra out of the ether of the magical portal.

He spun wildly out of control.

Puck’s hand slipped from his grip.

One instant everything was dark, and the next moment he saw
blue sky, white clouds, and the overpowering brightness of the sun.

Vertigo threatened to overwhelm him as he flipped through
the air like a thrown rag doll.

His mind worked frantically to assimilate his new
surroundings but he just couldn’t do so fast enough.

Suddenly a large, stretched, white canvas was beneath him, the
top of a tent. There were several tents.

He tried to aim for one.

He landed onto the tent, ripping through the canvas.

The canvas slowed his fall and his armor absorbed some of
the shock, but he still hit the ground with a fairly strong thump, knocking the
wind out of him.

He lay on the ground, gasping for air when there was a loud
tearing sound and a heavy thump next to him.

It was Puck.

“Ahhhh!” Puck groaned. “Balkar waste upon balkar waste! That
hurt!”

Puck got to his knees, a large stretch of ripped canvas over
his head.

Sesuadra helped him pull the canvas free and supported him
while he stood up.

“Darkness consume that faulty magic!”

Sesuadra elbowed him, his armor clinking against Pucks.

“What?” Puck said as he tore a final piece of thick fabric from
his shoulder plate.

He looked up to where Sesuadra was motioning.

Four women stood in the tent, frozen in surprise and fear at
the sudden appearance of the two armored young men.

One of them was naked, holding a nightgown over herself, the
others were frozen in other stages of early morning grooming, hair brushing,
and eating firstmeal.

Then Puck and Sesuadra and the females turned as another
flap in the tent opened and Redmor and the other aldom’s sauntered in,
shuffling their armored feet and letting out low squawks.

They came over to Puck and Sesuadra to make sure they were
ok.

“Thank you,” Sesuadra muttered to Brighteyes, “For saving
our lives.”

 The animal merely chittered quietly and happily.

Finally gathering her senses, the oldest of the women stepped
forward.

“Please, sorcerers, do not hurt us, we are simple healers of
the Order of the Leaf.”

Puck and Sesuadra exchanged glances.

“The Order of the Leaf!” Puck said exuberantly.

“We are not too late then,” Sesuadra replied.

Puck turned to the women, “Please, forgive our intrusion. We
are Advocates of the Flame, we have come to rescue someone named Kimira, as
well as save the Order of the Leaf from destruction.”

“Advocates—of the Flame?” one of the women said.

“Destruction?” one of the younger women whispered fearfully.

“We do not know how much time is left, before—before
whatever it is in Sulendald comes to wreak havoc upon your Order,” Sesuadra
said, urgency in his voice.

“We know of the danger in Sulendald,” the oldest women
responded, regaining her composure, “Waronen has completely pulled out of the
city and crossed the river, destroying the bridge in the process to keep the
enemy force at bay. We are waiting for the signal to leave. He said he would
personally come with his knights to escort the Order to safety.”

“No offense m’lady,” Puck said, “The Oracle has shown us a
vision, the Order will be overrun, sometime soon.”

“The Oracle?” she replied in wonder.

“We need to speak to this man, Waronen, and to your leader,”
Sesuadra said.

There was an awkward silence, the naked young woman, who was
about Puck’s age, kept trying to keep herself covered with her nightgown held
in front of her.

The oldest women, realizing that she needed to act, focused
her attention on the other women in the tent.

“Aldeis, Ashbel, throw on some cloaks and go and find
Doyenne Cenale, tell her the Circle must be gathered immediately.”

“What if she asks questions? What should we say?”

“Tell her that two sorcerers have appeared in our midst
claiming to be Advocates of the Flame, they have many steeds, and they come
with a warning.”

The two women nodded and went to a part of the tent
separated by hanging curtains to retrieve their cloaks, and then left.

“And for the sake of all the Exalted, Suddia, you can stand
and close the curtains while still holding onto the nightgown. And when you are
finished dressing, I want you to find Doyenne Kaelynn and her daughter Kimira
and bring them here.”

“Yes mother,” the younger women said and then moved forward
and shifted the curtains to hide her in the separated part of the tent she was
in.

“Laura,” Puck said suddenly, remembering what the Oracle had
said, “Tell Kimira that we know Laura. She is with us, I mean, not with us
right now, but she is in our group.”

“Laura? You mean Laura, Chaelath of Linwel?” The oldest
women said.

“Yes,” Sesuadra nodded.

“But—” She looked confused, “She was on assignment in
Sulendald with some of the others in our Order many fortnights past. None of
them made it out alive.”

Puck and Sesuadra exchanged glances.

“She is an Advocate of the Flame too,” Sesuadra said, “She
is an Unseen Pathwalker.”

The oldest women seemed completely taken by surprise by the
statement. Then she motioned them away.

 “If you could wait outside of the tent for a moment,” The
oldest women said to the backs of Sesuadra and Puck, “I will come out when I am
dressed to wait with you until the others arrive. And please,” she looked at
the animals, “take your mounts outside with you.”

They nodded.

“And Waronen?” Sesuadra asked.

“We will see what the Circle makes of you and all this you
have spoken of, then we will proceed from there.”

“All is well,” Sesuadra replied without looking back.

Puck and Sesuadra gently took the reins of Redmor and Syril
and went to the same flap that the other two women used to leave the tent and
parted it to lead the aldoms outside. Then they too left the tent, letting the
flap fall back in place behind them as they stepped out.

Row upon row of tents, some large and some small, were laid
out in a fairly uniform manner, clearly making up a large encampment. In the
way the tents were arranged a sort of main pathway had been created in the
center of the encampment. Balkars and aldoms were tied off in several places
next to tents along the main path, munching on brush. Firepits stacked with
wood were located by some of the larger tents, waiting to be lit later in the
night for light and cooking. Women walked to and fro about the campsites,
cleaning, and performing tasks of various natures. Some were sitting in small
circles, talking and mending torn clothing, others stood over tables organizing
various items, yet others were chopping food up and preparing the days meals. A
large number were working on breaking down tents and packing them up. They were
all dressed in similar robes of light fabric, and of black and green colors
with gold embroidery and lining. A green and gold leaf was emblazoned on the
chest portion of the robes. Some wore matching thin black gloves others had them
tucked into their belt. Some had mantles about their necks, matching the
uniform. A few women scrubbed down a number of the creatures, patting them and
cooing with them.

A crowd had gathered near the tent Sesuadra and Puck had
fallen into and were just now exiting. A young girl reached up shyly at Tandur.
The aldom sensed the innocence of the girl and allowed her to pet him. They
were looking at the hole in the tent and the two armored young men now standing
in front of it.

“It is just like I have read in books,” Sesuadra stated,
“Very consistent, almost like a military, but of only women, healers and
pacifists. If Waronen and his army do not evacuate them, or fail to protect
them, this entire group will be wiped out swiftly.”

Puck nodded, “I guess we made quite the entrance.” He
gestured to the on looking women.

It was not too long until the tent flap opened up and the
young woman who had been called Suddia exited.

“Excuse me,” She said shyly at them as she passed by them.

Puck nodded his head, his helmet bobbing with the motion.

Another moment later and the oldest women exited the tent.

“No one has come yet I see,” She said.

Puck shrugged, Sesuadra simply stood there.

“Ah, there, I see my two daughters now, and a few Doyennes
with them to boot.”

Sure enough Puck and Sesuadra glanced down the main road and
saw the two women that had been sent first, walking down the main path in their
nightgowns and cloaks, and four older women marching swiftly behind them, all
dressed in the uniform robes of their healing order.

As they were approaching and after they had arrived in front
of Puck, Sesuadra, and the older woman one of the women in the approaching
group said, “What is the meaning of this Styala, sending your daughters to
Doyenne Cenale to call for a meeting of the Circle?”

“Apologies Doyenne Adoressa, I cannot explain it, but
perhaps the strangers can explain it themselves.”

“These are they?” Adoressa turned to Puck and Sesuadra.

Puck immediately did not like Adoressa and so spoke before
she could speak any further, “I am Puck, Salvend of Essoril and this is my
fellow comrade Sesuadra, we are Advocates of the Flame. The Oracle has sent us
to rescue Kimira and save your Order from destruction.”

Again the awkward silence persisted after he stopped
speaking. No one seemed to believe them.

“What are you talking about? Advocates of the Flame? The
Oracle? You are both young men with your heads full of legends and storybook
tales,” Adoressa replied finally. “You have far too many mounts for the two of
you, your armor and appearance does not suggest you are Sulendald city guard or
knights so I demand to know who you really are and what kind of jest you think
you are playing at here.”

Puck looked at Sesuadra with the kind of look that said
we
do not have time for this.

Puck glanced around, trying to see what kind of metal was
around him. He opened his mind and searched further with the Sense. He needed
enough to put on some sort of display, mold metal in the sky or something, make
them at least realize that they were not just ordinary young men, but that they
could wield magic, he could do that at least. He could shift the metal of the
aldoms, but he did not want to ruin the only armor they had for the creatures.
There were buckles and tent poles and a few hatchets nearby he could work with.
It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

Puck began to raise his hand and Sesuadra noticed it,
quickly guessing what Puck was going to attempt.

Sesuadra put out a hand and stopped Puck. He then stepped
forward and knelt with one knee on the ground in front of Adoressa.

“Doyenne Adoressa, I Sesuadra, Jidan of Kolima, Freelander,
invoke the Reconciliation Pledge.”

“Reconci—what?” Adoressa said, a little surprised.

“After the Freelands were formed the Order of the Leaf made
a pact with Itherin Shadowhand that they would always aid a Freelander in need
and in return the Freelanders helped the Order sever all ties with Terragur, is
it not correct?” Sesuadra stated.

The women glanced at each other, Adoressa was speechless for
a moment. More and more women were gathering in the crowd around them.

“Is it not correct, Doyenne Adoressa?”

“We help
all
in need,” She tried to dodge the
question.

“Of course,” Sesuadra replied, “But I, a Freelander, am in
need, and I am specifically invoking the Reconciliation Pledge.”

“He is right,” one of the other women said, “It is written
in the standard archives of the Order, an important landmark in our history.”

“I know of the Pledge,” Adoressa said, frustration showing
in her voice.

“Will you refuse the invocation?” Sesuadra asked, his voice
a perfect calmness.

Adoressa glanced around, everyone was staring at her.

Finally she gave in, realizing that to do so otherwise would
invalidate her leadership to a degree, if even just a small amount.

“No, of course not, what do you ask?”

“I and my friend need your help evacuating your Order from
this valley. We have been sent here by the Oracle and we come representing the
Wielder of the Flame as his Advocates. Yes, a new Wielder of the Flame has been
chosen.”

As Sesuadra continued to speak his voice seemed to have a
power to it and those around paid close attention, even Puck found himself
listening closely, though he already knew why they were there.

“His name is Marcus. You may have seen, or heard others
speak of a light in Kolima. This light was of his making, a demonstration of
the Sword of the Phoenix and its power. Marcus is in Sulendald now moving to
quell the darkness that rises from within the city. But you are all still in
great danger here, and need to leave. We need to speak to Waronen, and we need
to speak to Kimira.”

“I am here!” A girl and an older women similar in appearance
to her appeared, making their way through the crowd.

“I am Kimira, what is it?”

Sesuadra quickly fell silent.

Kimira’s long braided hair bounced softly as she moved. She
had sharp blue eyes that contrasted brightly against her golden locks. She wore
the same green, gold, and black uniform as the others around him but Sesuadra
seemed to notice the particular way that her robes hugged her bosom and fitted
her hips.