“Even though I was king by title, I am a thief by trade, the best on the west continent. That means I can be pretty sneaky when I want to be. Oh, by the way, there were seven traps. I forgot about the fireball.”
“He forgot about the fireball? We are all going to die in here!” Horace moaned.
“No there is no more danger, as long as you don’t touch anything that you shouldn’t. I went through a phase when I liked contact poison. I can’t recall though if I used any here. Even if I did, it’s likely to have lost its potency after three centuries, but better safe than dead I always say. Shall we go get what we came for?”
“Yes,” I said. “Do you know where to find it in all of this mess?”
“Come on.”
He led us through the maze of piles into the very center of the room. In the middle of the room was a round dais, three steps high. In the center of the dais was a rack, and on the rack was a sword in a scabbard. It looked ordinary enough. The scabbard was dark green and reflected the light of the glowing discs on the walls. Near the sword’s hilt, the scabbard bore a raised golden emblem in the shape of a griffon—the traditional symbol of the House of Davin.
“Go on. You’re Coenbrand’s only living ancestor. It’s yours.”
I climbed the dais. The hilt was plain, except for a large blue gem, possibly sapphire, set in the pommel. Reverently, and a little afraid, I lifted the sword from the rack. It was smaller than I had pictured it, no bigger than a standard long sword, meant to be wielded with one hand. There was no doubting, even with the sword sheathed, that it was a weapon of considerable power. I thought that I could feel it waking up at my touch, like there was a consciousness that had been sleeping inside, which I could feel stirring now and examining me curiously.
“Draw it,” Theof said.
Nervous, I took several deep breaths and grasped the grip. My breath caught; a curious electric sensation ran up my arm and through my body. I exhaled and pulled the sword from the sheathe. The blade was clear like glass and a steady blue radiance shined forth from more than a score of fine runes that were engraved upon the blade.
The moment seemed to go on forever. I was holding a legend. I had found Harbinger.
Chapter Fourteen
By all accounts, King Theof was the weakest fighter of the Four Kings. That is only to be expected as he never claimed to be a warrior. While he was dangerous with a bow, King Theof’s real skills were in stealth, scouting, and anything requiring a delicate touch. However, when attacked, King Theof was said to be extremely fast and nearly impossible to hit.
Excerpted from J. R. Grimble’s Pozzelby: A History
With Harbinger held aloft, I felt charged with energy. The sword felt like a part of my hand, a nearly weightless and perfectly balanced extension of me. A tingle passed through the grip and into my hand. And the feeling grew till the tingle was almost painful. I tried to sheathe the sword but it refused to go into the scabbard.
“Not so fast,” said a voice inside from inside of my head. “What do you think you’re doing taking me from my place? Who are you? Answer quickly or I’ll shock you till you smoke.”
“What? Wait, I’m Dexter Davin, one of King Coenbrand’s great grandchildren. I’m the king now, only we’re under attack by an army that’s trying to steal you. I’m here with Theof; he said it would be alright for me to take you,” I said quickly.
“Who are you talking to?” Brin asked.
“Hmm? Theof, oh yes, there he is. You didn’t come get me to give me to these attackers did you? To save your skin?”
“No, certainly not. They want to use you to summon their god, Garegon. I’m trying to stop them,” I told the sword.
“You don’t have to speak out loud for Harbinger to hear you,” Theof said. “Just thinking the words is enough.”
“Thanks, you might have mentioned that the sword is intelligent.”
“Slipped my mind.”
“Garegon, I banished him once before. I’ll certainly help to put him back.”
“He isn’t here yet, but his followers are trying to bring him back. You’re the key. There is an army here trying to take the castle led by a General Garris Stone,” I thought.
“Ah, Garris Stone. I’ve spilled enough of his blood before. Does he still carry his black sword?”
“I don’t know. We need to try and get back to where the fighting is. I’ve been gone all day and have to find out what is happening now.”
“Very well. Try me on. You seem rather young to me; have you used a sword before?”
“Umm, a little. I’m not very good.”
“No matter. I can help with that some, though I wouldn’t advise you to try and fight Garris Stone, even with my help.”
“Hopefully, I won’t have to.”
This time, Harbinger easily slid into its scabbard, which I buckled onto my belt. It hung a little low, but wasn’t too awkward. I felt more confident just having it there.
“Great,” Theof said. “Before we go, I saw a few other things down here that might help us.”
Close to where we were standing was a pile of eight or ten shields. Theof found a small one, a buckler with a spike protruding out of the center and handed it to me.
“Strap that to your arm. If I remember correctly, it has an enchantment that makes it practically weightless and very strong. Even if you have never used a shield, it should help you some.”
Then he took us to the rear of the room and opened one of the larger chests. He dug through it until he found a long velvet bag. From inside, he removed a long, straight wooden wand with a silver tip, and a gold ring with a single, large pearl. He handed these to Brin.
“I know that you haven’t been trained, but I think that this might work for you. This wand has many functions. Unfortunately, I only know how to use one. Point it at a target and use the command word, Arachio, and a large web will shoot forth, large and strong enough to immobilize a man. Nightshade might be able to tell us its other functions. Now this ring will offer you protection in a variety of ways. It creates a protective aura around the wearer that will help to deflect attacks, not completely mind you but about as well as if you were wearing chain mail.”
“Thank you,” she said taking them. She put the wand inside of her pocket and the ring she had to put on her thumb.
“What about me? What kind of protection can you offer me?” asked Horace.
Theof looked at him, unable to hide a distasteful grimace.
“You are a grown man with a sword; that should be enough. If it isn’t, you had better keep close to me and the children.”
Earlier today, things had seemed next to hopeless. Now we were free, King Theof was with us, and Harbinger was in my possession. I didn’t know if it would be enough. For all I knew the castle had already fallen and my friends were dead. I put the thought out of my mind; it would do me no good to dwell on such possibilities. We had to learn out what was happening and plan our next move. Somehow, I had to find a solution to this problem.
****
I had no idea of what I would find when we got back to the guard headquarters near the north hall. The tremendous relief on my face when I saw Layred Vu and Myrick was mirrored doubly on theirs. To say that they were surprised to see me was an understatement. Myrick actually ran up and hugged me, while Layred Vu and several others cheered and slapped me on the back and shoulders. Both of them looked tired and bore minor injuries. Ardbeg was also present, sporting a bloodied bandage across his forehead but smiling. As heartened as I was to see them still alive and free, the absences worried me more.
“Are Francis and my mother here? And where is Captain Talon?”
Myrick looked sober.
“No one has seen Francis or Emily since Ardbeg and I left you. As for Talon he has been badly wounded. There is a priest of Eridan tending to him. He may not make it until dawn.”
“Neither would have t
he rest of us if something hadn’t caused Tabor Till to halt his attack,” said Ardbeg. “These men are exhausted. They would not have lasted out the hour, yet Till pulled back his men. He’s only left enough of them in the castle to keep us trapped here.”
“King Dexter, I see that you found Earl Horace, but who is this?” Layred Vu asked nodding at Theof.
I introduced King Theof to an amazed room. If my appearance had a heartening effect on the remaining guardsmen, the appearance of Theof, one of Pozzelby’s most famous heroes and kings, made their spirits soar.
“We also found Doctor Ahem,” I told them, telling how he had captured me and Brin and how Theof had subsequently rescued us. “He was struck a mortal blow, but was still able to escape before he died.”
“I’ll believe that he is dead when I see the body,” Myrick said.
“Aye, to think that Ahem murdered King Ardwulf. He was a mediocre doctor. Ardwulf only kept him around because he felt sorry for him. If he isn’t dead and I catch up with him, then I’ll happily do it myself,” said Layred Vu.
It was quiet for a moment. Then I remembered the sword. I drew it so all could see. The cheering from the men was even louder than when I had introduced King Theof. It felt good to restore their morale, but I knew that it would take more than that to win the day. Sheathing Harbinger, I knew that I would ultimately have to decide what to do next. But for the moment, I had no ideas.
“I understand that your captain of the guard is at death’s door,” said Theof. “Harbinger might be able to help. While it is a powerful weapon, it has other abilities. One of its greatest is the power to heal wounds. It is a drain on the sword though so the ability must be used sparingly.”
“How do I do it?” I asked.
“Let’s go to your captain.”
Unlike many of the wounded guardsmen, who were being treated in the north hall, Captain Talon was in a private room a short distance from the headquarters. He was unconscious and pale, barely breathing, but there was no visible injury.
“What happened to him?” I asked.
“He was struck by an evil energy from Garris Stone’s sword,” said Myrick. “Priest, have you had any success in treating him?”
The priest was a younger man, no older than thirty; he shook his head.
“Captain Talon’s injury is magical in nature. There is nothing physical for me to treat. However, I have some experience in treating magical injuries, but so far nothing that I have tried has improved the captain’s condition,” he said.
“Let me try something,” I said.
The priest bowed deferentially and stepped back.
“Certainly, Sire.”
I drew Harbinger from its sheathe. I had no idea how to proceed.
“Harbinger? Can you hear me?”
“Of course I can hear you. What is it?”
“This is my captain of the guard. He is dying, struck by some energy blast from Garris Stone’s sword. Theof told me that you have the ability to heal. Can you heal him?”
“Hmm, yes, I was created as a foil for the black sword. What it harms, I can heal. Be aware though, I find healing tiring and can’t do so more than once a day. Shall I heal your captain?”
“Yes, please!” I said aloud.
“Very well, put your other hand on his chest.”
I did as I was instructed, with one hand I placed on Talon’s chest, in the other I held Harbinger. Of its own volition, the sword rose until it pointed to the ceiling. The blade began to glow, bright whitish-blue. Heat came through the sword’s grip and flowed through my body. There was no pain, but the sensation was very strange, like expanding and being outside of myself. My hand on the captain’s chest began to glow with the same light that was radiating out of the sword and flowed into his still body. For me, time seemed to slow. I was trapped; my body was simply a conductor for the energy being transferred from Harbinger into Talon. It felt as if an hour passed before the flow of heat and life magically ceased, but those present told me that the whole process only took a minute.
When the flow stopped, I sagged and Harbinger dropped to my side. I was tired and thought that perhaps much of the fatigue that I felt was actually the sword’s. It had expended a huge amount of energy—no wonder it couldn’t use that particular ability very often.
The first sign that the healing had worked was the pallor fled from Talon’s face. Then his breathing deepened and his hand moved. A moment later, he opened his eyes.
“What happened?”
Myrick related the events of the last few hours. I was suddenly exhausted. I had been going constantly since dawn and now it had to be close to two in the morning. I looked over at Brin and saw her stifle a yawn. Perhaps we could stand to get a few hours sleep. It seemed as if there was a lull in the fighting of which we should take advantage. Just as I was going to stretch out on a bench and suggest that Brin do the same, the sound of excited voices near the door made me turn and look in time to see my mother and Francis come in. They were filthy and looked as tired as I was, but they appeared unharmed.
I started to rise, but Francis motioned for me to stay where I was. He sat down next to Brin and my mother sat next to me. Francis’ sigh of relief when he finally sat down was deep and heartfelt.
“What happened to you after Doctor Ahem took us?” I asked them.
“Not much, thanks to Emily we made an alliance with a small goblin tribe that’s taken up residence in the old castle. If we come through this alive, we promised them a reward for their aid, pending your approval of course.”
“Sure, whatever you agreed to, I’ll honor. What kind of aid did they render us?”
“Ah, well you might have noticed that the Twelve Sect army is not currently attacking us. That is because our goblins just launched an attack on their rear. Our enemy was able to blunt the attack and the goblins have retreated, but it did some damage and appears to have bought us some time.”
He wanted to know what had happened to Brin and me, so I recounted our time with Doctor Ahem and Theof’s timely intervention, our rescue of Brin’s father and our acquisition of Harbinger. Emily and Francis were suitably impressed.
I could no longer keep my eyes open and my companions were just as fatigued. Myrick set a watch schedule that would let our men all get at least a few hours sleep—provided the attack did not resume before dawn.
****
My dreams were not quiet. I saw our conflict laid out as if on a chess board. Theof and Myrick were knights; Francis and Emily, my bishops; Layred Vu and Talon were the rooks, and Brin, able to go all over the board, was my queen. My enemies were also given designations as pieces in this deadly game. Tabor Till and Garris Stone were the knights; Ahem and Callis the bishops; it was unclear if Grimwulf was a rook or the king.
In my dream, I watched the game as it had already been played out, the feints, the discovered attacks, my decision to castle. Each time a pawn was taken, I heard the screams of men dying. But I felt like my opponent had mounted his best offense and I was still in the game, down material surely, but I still had enough pieces to win.
My eyes kept falling on the bishops. But as I looked at them, the shapes of Francis and my mother would blur and were replaced by other, less discernible, shapes. What about the priests? Or the temples, the shrines? That was the predominant thought going through my head as I awoke.
Francis was asleep on a chair next to me and my mother was sleeping on the same bench as Brin, who had snuggled up close to her. Myrick was seated in the corner of the room talking to Theof. I stood and kneaded the back of my neck, which was sore from sleeping on the hard bench. I walked past them to where Eridan’s priest was sleeping on the floor against the wall. Gently, I shook him awake.
“Sire? What is it?”
“What was your name? I was never told yesterday.”
“Viktor, Sire.”
“Viktor, have there been any omens or portents not
iced by the priests about this affair?” I asked. “Anything at all.”
“Nothing from the temple, Sire. There was...I hesitate even to mention it...but, you know of the roadside shrine to Coenbrand near Dunlevy?”
“Somewhat.”
“Well, it is tended not by the priesthood, but by a lay friar who is thought to be somewhat eccentric. About two weeks ago, he reported that the sword in Coenbrand’s statue began to glow for approximately an hour.”
“He reported this, but nothing was done?”
“Well, as I said, the friar is somewhat eccentric and is given to drink. He has made unusual claims in the past. Also, Coenbrand has not officially been recognized as having become part of the worship of Eridan. Many believe that he ascended to the service of the god, but it has never been adopted as dogma.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I don’t exactly know. These decisions are made at the high priest level. Eridan’s religion tends to be fairly conservative that way. There are no recognized mortal ascensions in the official worship of Eridan, as opposed to Sigmenni who has at least a dozen. There would have to be some sort of irrefutable sign or confirmation. But we are well aware that Coenbrand is widely revered at a grassroots level as a quasi-divine being and so we have a loose affiliation with his shrines,” the priest said.
I considered what all of this meant. I was operating on the inspiration of a dream and had no idea if I was on the right path. Theof was watching me from across the room. I gestured to him to join us and he and Myrick came over.
“Theof, what can you tell me about Coenbrand’s death? Do you know for a fact that he died?”
The elf sat down, his face in the shadow of his hood.
“I was with Coenbrand on his last adventure,” he began. “Korric and Jeremiah had long since left for Unity, so it was only Coenbrand and I. In his last few years, he had claimed to have spoken with Eridan directly several times.
“After the Unified War ended, we all settled down somewhat. When I met Coenbrand, Jeremiah, and Korric, we were young and sought adventure for its own sake. We were very good at it and had great success. We became rich, won a kingdom, then a second. But those things were mostly incidental. Coenbrand was always most interested in honor and serving Eridan. Jeremiah was an ascetic, and I was only slightly interested in wealth for wealth’s sake. Only Korric was really motivated by wealth and power. But after the Unified War, even he’d had enough. He was content to govern Unity, and he did a fair job of it. He had no desire to go traipsing off into the unknown any longer just to see what was there.”