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Authors: Craig A. Price Jr.

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy

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BOOK: The Crimson Claymore
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They passed blacksmiths, bell makers, shoe makers, lumber mills, and several other businesses. The barracks was an octagonal shape and close to the castle next to a large blacksmith and stable. Searon rode to the stable and handed the stable boy two gold coins to take care of the four horses.

“You three should find an inn. I wish to see my brother alone.” He handed a few gold coins to the wizard.

He didn’t give them a chance to respond and began walking toward the barracks. A dozen warriors stood outside to guard it when he walked up. They looked at him for a moment, studying him, before one of the men’s eyes grew large.

“Searon? Is that really you?”

Searon smiled. “Is my brother inside?”

“Yes, I have heard you came back, but I didn’t believe it.”

“May I enter?”

“Yes, oh, sorry.”

He moved away from the entrance along with the other few guards. Searon nodded and smiled to him before stepping inside. The interior was full of wandering warriors either studying books on tactics, or weapons that hung on the walls. Various types of armor hung on the walls, too, from leather, plate mail, chain mail, scale mail, and ring mail. Each seemed expertly crafted and held slightly different designs than their counterparts.

Nobody seemed to notice him except for a woman who smiled and walked over. She was clad in brown leather armor with a bow over her shoulder and dagger at her sash. Her smile was intoxicating, with a perfect balance of teeth showing through her soft thick lips. Long auburn hair fell down her face in braids of black and red. Her nose was thin and crooked with small freckles on it. Cold gunmetal eyes stared deep into his without a blink.

“What are you searching for, stranger?”

“I am looking for Noraes.”

“He awaits you in the practicing arena.” She pointed to a thin stone door without a window.

“Thank you.” Searon bowed his head slightly.

Inside the door was a vast area that looked like wilderness. Stones, trees, streams, and grass flourished through the area. For a moment, he thought he was back outside in some hidden place within the city. A warrior rushed by him, ducking from stone to stone with a keen eye out into the wilderness. When he thought he was clear, he leaped out, and three arrows struck him hard, and he fell. Searon rushed forward to grab him when three more warriors leaped from seemingly nowhere and went to his aid. Two went forward to pull him to safety while another guarded them in front with a large wooden shield to protect from three more arrows that bounced off.

Searon noticed that the arrows on the ground weren’t fixed with sharp tips but smooth stones. He walked up to the squad of warriors, shaking his head.

“What is this?” he asked.

“The training ground, sir,” a man in thick leather armor and short black hair said.

“What is your objective?”

“To reach the captain on the other side.”

Searon scanned the area, noticing the large field had little cover. A few stones were scattered throughout that provided little protection against arrows. The archers were in three separate points in the farthest reach of the arena. He could see their eyes over stone and knew they were being watched.

“Is he done?” Searon asked, looking at the man who got hit by stone arrows. He was rubbing his chest where he was hit. Welts probably covered the areas.

“Yes, more than two arrows hit him.”

“Crossguards,” Searon smiled.

“Yes…the same rules apply.”

“Sometimes in Crossguards, a sacrifice must be made.”

“Can you beat this?”

“Yes…I know these rules. I also know the style of play being used. Do you see those two close stones on the far side? Three archers hide behind those. Do you see the two stones on the sides? The swordsmen wait behind those to ambush.”

“How do we get past that?”

“Simple, you fight. Grab another shield, and have two of you carry shields to guard the other two as you make for those two rocks. Expect the ambush, and one of you drop a shield to defend.” He studied their hardened wood swords and shook his head. “Meanwhile, those archers will meet their ends, and I’ll meet back with you.”

Each looked at his claymore in turn with wide eyes. He only smiled. “Do not worry, I will not kill them.”

He waited until the four of them dashed into the opening. Arrows began soaring but were easily blocked by the two shields. They ran straight toward the two large stones, and when they were twenty paces away, Searon dashed from his coverage. He went a different path along the side of the clearing. His feet carried him quickly, and by the time the battle was in full force he was there behind the archers. He drew his claymore as he looked at the three. None of them saw him and he gently tapped the blade against each in turn.

“Dead,” he said.

The three looked at him with wide eyes but set their bows down and bowed to him. He nodded and came from the clearing to where the three were still fighting. The one with the shield had been struck down. There were four opponents, but none of them noticed as Searon came from behind. He still held the claymore in his hand, and he tapped each of them in the back with his weapon. The four turned to stare at him and dropped their swords in turn.

“Dead,” he grinned.

A horn erupted through the quiet air, and over a dozen men entered the field. Each stared wildly at Searon. Some whispered to each other and pointed. Searon stood motionless but stared at each one of them. He gently placed his claymore back in it scabbard and crossed his arms.

A man stepped through the crowd of men in full scale mail that glittered blue in color. It didn’t appear to be battle worn in the slightest, as if it was new armor or newly refurbished. His blue-and-silver helm was secured on his head. Searon could only see his deep hazel eyes, thick bronze eyebrows, long eyelashes, sharp nose, and pursed lips. Suddenly, the captain smiled and took off his helm. His dirty-blond hair was just past his ears, and his face was clean, except the scruff of a beard that desperately wanted to show but was still near invisible. A large brown mole rested on his face above his left eyebrow, a birthmark.

He walked up to Searon and lay a hand on his shoulder. “Brother, it’s been a long time.”

Chapter 26

 

A
ndron made sure the three of them were packed as soon as the sunlight touched the sky in the morning. The dirt roads were clear and open through flat terrain with only a few slopes of elevation. No animals or people crowded the abandoned roads, and that thought brought chills to Andron’s spine. The sea beyond was always visible as they traveled, and a constant reminder of more pleasant thoughts. Starlyn’s eyes didn’t seem to waver from the sea on the west of the road. It seemed that her eyes were glued, and several times she bumped into Andron with an apology, but soon after her eyes glanced back to the sea.

“Is this your first time seeing the sea?” Andron asked.

Her head seemed to shake from her thoughts as she glanced back toward Andron. “I have never been this far from my land. This much water…it’s incredible.”

“Yes it is…truly a sight to behold,” Andron whispered.

She blushed and turned her face back toward the sea, leaning in close. The sparkling from the water seemed to shimmer on her face, escalating her astonishing beauty. He only looked at her for a moment before continuing through the land. Wheat and grain grew on the land for leagues along each side of the road with large wooden farm houses and barns. Everything seemed well overgrown without maintenance, and the houses were abandoned. The only sound was that of crows and ravens that flew through the skies to land on the farms and feast on the vegetables that were left unguarded. Some birds were kept at bay by large menacing scarecrows, but a few scarecrows were destroyed and tossed into the overgrowing gardens.

The roads stretched for leagues until they reached the city of Wesiet by twilight. There was little else to the journey but farms with fruits, vegetables, wheat, and grain. Everything was abandoned, even those the closest to the city walls of heavy slate. The gate by the city was guarded by a force of thirty men heavy in armor and weapons.

Andron frowned as the neared the city gate. Normally, the city was only covered with two men on the outside and a small force within. It was not a city that was full of people to defend. Wesiet was only a transport village of supplies and held as little as the last village. Most of the things made and grown were transported to other cities and villages in trade for other supplies or coin. The army that Wesiet had was little more than militia.

He noticed the guards at the gate were of varying appearance. There were many different crests on their breastplates from the various villages to the south as well as that of Wesiet itself. The four different crests consisted of a crow, an eagle, a vulture, and a wagon. Hope restored in Andron’s mind as he saw the four crests of the various villages before the city. He hoped everybody had made it inside of the large city. Yet he wondered if there was room for all there.

“Halt, who comes to Wesiet, and what business do you hold here?” A guard stepped forward with a large crest of a wagon of Wesiet in gold on his chest.

“I am Andron, my family is from Guerettos. I have come here to see if they have made it safely.”

“And these with you?”

“This is Starlyn, a kheshlar from the kheshlarn city in the woods. And this is Sh’on, a mage from across Calthoria.”

The captain’s eyes grew wide, and he unsheathed his sword, pointing it inches away from Sh’on’s face, whose green eyes glowed with shimmering fire as his hand began to glow with a color to match. The rest of the guards unsheathed their weapons as well and took a step forward.

“Magic is not welcome in our lands; leave this place.”

“I have not come here to harm but to help.”

“There is little trust in those who can use magic.”

“Please, stop. Violence is not necessary,” Starlyn said, stepping forward.

Each guard in turn stared at her openly from her dazzling blonde hair and pale serene face, and lingered as they took in the rest of her shape. The captain stepped forward and opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“Captain?” Starlyn asked.

The captain cleared his throat with a few coughs before removing the sword from next to Sh’on’s neck. “I am sorry, m’lady. I have never seen a kheshlar before.”

“And what do you know of kheshlars? Are kheshlars liars?”

“No, m’lady. Everything I hear is that kheshlars do not speak a lie.”

“Then I will tell you to stand down. This mage does not threaten you or your kin. He has fought the draeyks before with me, and he has come here with me to do the same. Do you doubt my words?”

“No, m’lady.”

“Then let us pass.”

He reluctantly turned to his comrades as if looking for approval. None of them looked at him but instead stared toward the kheshlar in awe. Shaking his head, he sheathed his sword and took a step back.

“You may pass.”

Each of the other guards sheathed their swords in turn. The tall metal gate rose through the stone with the guards in towers on the inside turning the wheels. Starlyn took the first step with Sh’on and Andron following her as they walked inside of the large city.

Inside the gate, the city looked like no other. Nothing appeared to match as many buildings were of gray or brown stone while others were made of wood of various stains. There were also plenty of brick buildings of every color. Most were businesses of various sorts from herbal shops, leather shops, and any other material that might prove useful. Homes were scarce throughout the large city, and it was empty of most travelers. There were no merchant stands of any sort. Streets were bare instead of like normal cities or villages that would be covered with people. There seemed to be only one pub on the main street, and it seemed crowded beyond anything Andron had ever seen.

A soldier patrolled the streets and nearly walked past them before Andron caught his arm. The man didn’t look pleased and brushed Andron’s touch from his bicep. His face wore a grim expression with a thick red goatee and square jaw.

“Excuse me, sir, do you know where the survivors from Guerettos are?”

The warrior’s expression changed from anger to sorrow as he inspected Andron and the two others. “Most are in the third bunker from the west, near the sea. They wished to stay as far from the gate as possible and the closest to the sea.”

Andron nodded. “Thank you.”

He continued on with his mind set on his goal. Everything around him seemed to be a blur. Even the whispers of both Sh’on and Starlyn were but hazy murmurs in his mind. His one focus and thought was of seeing his beautiful wife and children again. Everything else around him was clouded in darkness without a thought. He traveled from alley to alley until finally the buildings grew scarce with open terrain. The sea was plain in sight, and he had to clench the excitement within him so he wouldn’t run toward the bunkers. There were dozens of them; each was created to store wheat and grain until ships were arrived. Another reason they were built so securely was in case of an attack, but never in their wildest dreams did they think they would actually be used for such a feat.

He walked slower once he reached the entrance. Seagulls scattered the sky above him toward the sea. The sunset was to the west across the glistening water. A blanket of steaming mist covered the water for a league before the sun’s blinding reflection. Above the sun were streaks of clouds that glinted yellow and orange with gray and black clouds in the shadows on the north and south side. The sea created a peaceful scene, with perfectly still waters catching the reflection both sun and clouds.

Andron watched the sunset for a moment before walking down the steps of the third bunker from the west. Each bunker only showed a few paces from the ground. The majority of the stone buildings were built underground so the cool dirt of the land would keep everything cold. In rumors, there were also hidden levels that went beneath the main level to hide goods or people in case of dire need.

With heavy breaths, he stopped at the tall white stone door. For a long moment, he stood there looking at the door before him. His breath slowed as he stared for what felt like hours. He held his hand in the air in front of the door, and it twitched as he kept it raised.

BOOK: The Crimson Claymore
8.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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