Текст книги "Slathbog's Gold"

Автор книги: Mark Forman

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

chapter nine

The Promise

Alex and Arconn found the others in a much better mood than they had been that morning. Even Tayo smiled as they entered the feasting house to join the company.

“At last,” said Skeld, lowering his mug. “I thought you’d have to go hungry. Andy has been eating everything in sight.”

“No, I haven’t,” Andy protested, spitting bits of food and throwing a hunk of bread at Skeld.

“There is more than enough,” said Thrang, raising his mug as if to toast Alex and Arconn. “The lady’s kitchens have left us wanting for nothing.”

“Perhaps too much of your red ale,” Skeld laughed, launching the bread Andy had thrown at him in the direction of Thrang’s mug.

“It is a fair vintage,” Thrang replied, slapping the bread away.

Alex and Arconn helped themselves from the three tables that were once again covered with food.

“You seem more at ease than you were this morning,” commented Thrang, looking closely at Alex. “Did the Oracle tell you what you wished to hear?”

“Yes,” replied Alex.

“It is not your concern,” said Bregnest sternly to Thrang. “You know that the Oracle’s words are private.”

“Forgive me,” said Thrang, smiling ruefully at Alex. “Perhaps Skeld is right—I’ve had too much ale.”

Alex simply smiled, bowing his head slightly to accept Thrang’s apology. He was happy, and the thoughts that had troubled him for so long now seemed distant. For the first time in a long while, he felt at peace.

Alex and Arconn ate their meal while the rest of their companions joked and picked at what remained on their plates. They spent their time talking happily, not worried about what tomorrow would bring. There was no reason to rush, and they were all relaxed.

“We should look at your sword,” said Arconn as the company walked out into the afternoon sunlight. “Though I should tell you, my knowledge of swords is small.”

“The Oracle said you would know about this one,” Alex said, turning toward the sleeping house.

“Then bring it out into the sunlight,” Arconn called after him. “It is too fine a day to be indoors.”

Alex entered the sleeping house and picked up his sword. He remembered how easily the blade had passed through the troll’s leg, as if his own effort was unimportant, and the strange heat he had felt during the fight. Picking up the scabbard, he saw that the inlayed swirls of gold still seemed to spell something, but he still couldn’t make out what the words might be.

Leaving the sleeping house, Alex saw the others had gathered on the shady side of the bathhouse. Carrying his sword in both hands, he approached Arconn, who was laughing at one of Skeld’s jokes. Arconn’s laughter stopped as soon as he saw Alex’s sword and his eyes widened in surprise.

“You recognize it then?” Alex asked.

“I do,” said Arconn, his voice slightly higher than normal. “Though I never thought I would see such a weapon again.”

“Can you tell me about it?” Alex held out the scabbard as the others gathered around to get a better look.

“I . . . I can,” Arconn answered slowly. “Draw the blade so that I will be correct in what I tell you.”

Alex drew the sword from its scabbard and held it up in the sunlight. The gold inlay flashed like fire in his hand, and Alex heard Arconn catch his breath.

“A well-made weapon,” said Thrang, looking from the sword to Arconn and back again. “Looks like elfin work, though better than anything they’ve made in many years.”

“Indeed it is,” said Arconn, regaining his speech. “The Oracle was wise to have you ask me about it. Please, return it to its scabbard.”

As Alex obeyed, Arconn looked at Andy. “You bought this at Blackburn’s? He sold this to you?”

“Yes,” Andy answered, looking worried. “He said it wasn’t one of his swords, but that an adventurer had sold it to him. He said it was as good as anything he’d ever made, maybe

better.”

“Better indeed,” said Arconn with a laugh. “This sword is the one the elves call Moon Slayer. The name is written on the scabbard, though in the ancient language of the dark elves.”

“Dark elves?” Alex questioned, concerned.

“Not evil elves as you might think,” Arconn clarified. “They were called dark elves because they loved the earth. Mining ore and making wonderful things with it was their passion. They loved it as much as the dwarf races do, perhaps more.”

“Not more,” Halfdan stated in a defiant tone.

“At least as much then,” said Arconn, bowing slightly to Halfdan.

“You speak of them in the past,” said Skeld. “Are they no longer to be found?”

“Most of them were destroyed long ago,” replied Arconn, sounding troubled. “The few who were left were scattered. Now most have faded away, overcome by the sorrows of the mortal lands.” Arconn’s eyes returned to the sword. “Men, goblins, even dwarfs, desired weapons and armor made by dark elves, as there has never been any better. Dragons hated them because not even their scales could protect them from a dark elf blade. The dark elves were wise, however, selling little of what they made. When they did sell a weapon, it was only to trusted friends.”

“Do you know any more about this sword and its history?” Bregnest asked.

“Moon Slayer was the sword of many great warriors, but I’ll not trouble you with their names and deeds,” replied Arconn. “I also know that whatever price Blackburn asked it was nothing compared to the sword’s true value. Indeed, in the elfin kingdoms, a treasure as great as a dragon’s hoard would be given for such a sword.”

“Then you made a good bargain,” said Alex, looking at Thrang. “You paid for this sword, and I cannot claim it as my own.”

Thrang looked at the sword and then at Alex. He seemed a little nervous, almost afraid, when he spoke.

“The sword is yours,” said Thrang, his hand automatically stroking his beard. “I have no claim on it. You have chosen it—or perhaps it has chosen you. I offered to stand good for you, that is all. I won’t go back on my word.”

“You show great wisdom, Thrang Silversmith,” said Arconn, nodding to the dwarf. “This sword chooses its own master, and it is clear it has chosen Alex.”

Alex felt pleased that such a famous sword would choose him as its master. He hoped he would be able to live up to the ancient tradition of the sword, though he still had some doubts about his skill as a warrior.

“For as long as you carry Moon Slayer, you will find honor among the elves,” Arconn said. “Keep it well, and it will keep you.”

“Thank you,” said Alex, bowing to Arconn. “You have told me a great deal. I see the wisdom of the Oracle in having me ask you about my sword.”

“As do I,” Arconn replied, glancing up at the tower.

Alex returned the sword to the sleeping house, though he was reluctant to leave it there. He placed it carefully beside his magic bag, then quickly rejoined his companions.

“A warrior anda wizard,” said Skeld, slapping him on the back and grinning broadly. “You’ve come a long way in a short time, little brother.”

The others laughed at Skeld’s comments and so did Alex. He knew he was not a wizard or a warrior—at least not yet—but somehow, he knew he would be both someday.

As the shadows started to creep across the courtyard, Rothgar appeared, carrying a large book. He bowed politely to Bregnest before addressing the group.

“The lady Iownan asks for your forgiveness, as she cannot dine with you this evening. She asks also that I deliver this book into Master Taylor’s hands. She thanks you for your kindness and bids you all a good evening.”

When he finished speaking, Rothgar bowed to Alex and handed him the large book. The others crowded around Alex as Rothgar departed as quickly as he had appeared.

“Another gift from the lady? You must have made a great impression,” said Skeld, looking over Alex’s shoulder.

Alex waved him off but didn’t say anything. The fine leather cover of the book was blank and he wondered what it might contain. He opened the book slowly and a note slipped out from inside the front cover.

My Friend,

Please accept this gift. It will aid you on your future journeys. I’m sure you will find it useful.

                                  Iownan

Alex handed the note to Bregnest, who read it out loud while Alex examined the book more closely. The pages were covered with tight, spidery writing and there were drawings of different plants and animals, many of which Alex did not recognize.

“The lady calls you friend,” Tayo commented, sounding impressed. “It is a great honor for an oracle to call you friend.”

“What’s the book then?” asked Thrang, pushing toward Alex.

“I’m not sure,” said Alex, looking up. “I can’t read what’s written in it.”

“What?” said Thrang in surprise. “You don’t know how to read?”

“I can read,” Alex protested. “But the writing in the book is like the magic book that Arconn gave me.”

“It’s elfin,” said Arconn, looking over Alex’s shoulder. “This appears to be a book of herb craft and healing potions.”

“Elfin?” Alex asked in wonder. “Is the magic book written in elf too?”

Arconn smiled at Alex’s question and looked at the note that Bregnest handed to him.

“The other book is a magic book, one not written by elves,” replied Arconn, handing the note back to Alex. “Though many people use elfin letters in their writing because it is easier to express your true meaning with them. You have not looked at the magic book for a long time now, have you?”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” said Alex, feeling ashamed that he had neglected Arconn’s gift.

“Then we shall make time from now on,” said Arconn firmly, patting Alex’s shoulder. “I will teach you the elfin letters so you can read this book and the magic book as well.”

“You are most kind,” Alex replied with a bow. “I am in your debt.”

“Not at all,” said Arconn, returning the bow.

Alex took his new book back to the sleeping house. Carefully, he tucked Iownan’s note inside the front cover, and then thumbed through some of the pages.

“You are eager to start then?” questioned Arconn from the doorway.

“Yes,” replied Alex, looking up at Arconn. “I have a lot to learn.”

“As do we all,” said Arconn. “Shall we begin?”

“Yes, please.”

For the rest of the evening Arconn sat beside Alex in the sleeping house teaching him the elfin way of writing. By the time Thrang called them to join the rest of the company for dinner, Alex had already learned the names and shapes of most of the elfin letters as well as how the letters joined to form words.

“You’ve done well,” Arconn beamed at Alex. “I have never seen a man take to the elfin language so quickly. Most humans have great difficulty with the ways of elves.”

“It seems natural,” said Alex. “It’s like this is something I already know and only need to remember.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” said Arconn in a thoughtful way.

“And I’m not sure I can explain,” replied Alex. “It’s like when I first saw my sword. I thought I could read something written in the swirls of gold, but when I blinked it was gone. What you’re teaching me now is like that, only different.”

“Then let us hope what you learn today is not gone tomorrow,” said Arconn with a laugh.

Alex followed Arconn out of the sleeping house to join the rest of their companions in the second house. It was almost dark, but the moon was rising in the east. Alex looked up at the tower as they walked and wondered why Iownan could not join them. He felt sad and a little troubled that she could not be with them.

After eating another grand meal, Alex walked to the stables while the others headed to the sleeping house. Bregnest was telling them about his first adventure, but Alex wanted to see Shahree.

Shahree whinnied as Alex entered the stable and moved toward him in her stall. Alex stroked her forehead gently with his fingers but did not speak. He gazed into the horse’s eyes, remembering how they had once scared him. Now he found comfort in those eyes, the comfort of a trusted friend.

Alex hoped Iownan would appear in the stable again, but she did not. After several minutes of waiting and thinking, he patted Shahree’s neck and said goodnight to the horse. He walked out into the moonlight and looked up at the White Tower. Alex knew he and the others would soon leave this place and the thought made him sad.

Returning to the sleeping house, Alex found Arconn telling a story about the ancient elves. Alex listened closely and when Arconn would speak a name in the elfin language, he thought—or rather felt—he knew what it meant, though he could not explain the meaning in words.

Alex went to sleep that night with the elfin words in his mind, dreaming of things from the distant past.

* * *

The next morning as they were finishing breakfast, Bregnest stood to speak to the company. He had a stern look on his face, but he seemed happy just the same.

“Tomorrow we will depart,” he said. “The parting will be a sad one, but our adventure and our quest are still ahead of us.”

“Sad for Thrang and his loss of ale,” Skeld commented, elbowing Thrang in the side.

“Sad for us all, I think,” said Tayo. “It will be long before we eat such fine meals in such fine surroundings again.”

“So eat while you can. I won’t cook so much or so well on the road,” said Thrang, laughing softly.

The day was warm and sunny and Alex walked in the courtyard and the nearby gardens. That afternoon, Arconn sat with him in the gardens, teaching him more of the elfin writing in his new book. Alex almost asked about the magic book he had ignored for so long, but then Arconn began teaching him to speak the elfin words out loud.

As darkness filled the courtyard, Rothgar appeared and again asked them to forgive Iownan for not joining them.

“My lady will see you in the morning,” said Rothgar. “She wishes to speak to you all before you depart.”

“We will await the lady’s arrival,” Bregnest replied with a deep bow.

Alex and his friends were subdued but happy that night at dinner. Skeld told them a story of when his company had been surrounded by bandits and almost killed. With a great deal of luck and a very clever plan, they had managed not only their escape, but also to capture many bandit horses as well. Alex’s thoughts were not on Skeld’s story, though he pretended to listen and managed to smile and laugh at all the right places. He was thinking of the road ahead of them and the troubles they might meet. He knew little about this wild land and less about adventures, but he knew enough to be concerned.

Once more after the evening meal, he went to the stables to see Shahree. Once more, he hoped Iownan would appear and talk to him. Once more, she did not. Alex thought about Iownan and her kindness as he rubbed Shahree’s forehead. He thought of her words at their first dinner in the tower, and he wondered what it was she would ask them to do.

There were no stories that night in the sleeping house, and little talk. Everyone was busy checking their bags and making sure everything was ready for their departure in the morning. Bregnest rang the gong and asked the girl who appeared to bring him paper and pen. The girl bowed and departed, returning quickly with the requested items. Alex wondered why Bregnest had asked for something to write with, but he didn’t ask.

Before the sun was up the next morning, Alex and his friends had gathered in the second house. Breakfast was waiting for them when they entered and they ate quickly and with little talk. Alex knew he was not the only one who would be sorry to leave the White Tower behind. When they finished their meal, Skeld, Tayo, and Halfdan went to the stables to saddle all the horses, while Alex and the others returned to the sleeping house to make sure nothing had been left behind.

When they exited the sleeping house, Iownan was waiting for them in the courtyard with her servants behind her, each one holding many parcels. She smiled kindly at them all, bowing slightly first to Alex and then to Bregnest. Alex blushed at the honor as he returned Iownan’s bow. Iownan waited as Tayo, Skeld, and Halfdan brought the horses from the stable and joined their companions.

“We have brought you some things to take with you,” said Iownan, waving her hand toward the servants. “I would not have you depart without improving your store of food as your journey may be a long one.”

“You are most kind, lady,” replied Bregnest with a bow. “We find great sorrow in leaving.”

Iownan nodded. Her servants came forward and gave each member of the company several neatly wrapped and labeled parcels. Alex put his in his magic bag as quickly as he could, his eyes returning at once to Iownan.

“The road ahead may be cold as there is no guarantee that you will reach your goal before winter,” said Iownan, still smiling. “So we have also prepared warm clothing and blankets.”

“Your kindness is too great,” said Bregnest with another bow. “We have not words to give thanks.”

Iownan nodded once more. More servants came forward and more parcels were given to each member of the company.

“Now I will answer your question,” said Iownan, her smile fading. “Though it troubles me greatly to ask such a thing of my guests.”

“Ask what you will, great lady,” said Bregnest. “If it is in our power, we shall do as you ask.”

“You are very kind,” Iownan replied, a weak smile returning to her face. “This is what I would ask of you all: that you return to me a lost treasure of the White Tower.”

“What treasure of the tower has been lost?” Bregnest questioned in surprise.

“Long ago, there was a stone in the high places of the tower. It was not a gem; it was a crystal of clear stone, like glass, and it was stolen from the tower.” Iownan looked pained as she spoke. “The stone is now hidden in Slathbog’s hoard, so I ask that you return it to me, if your quest is completed successfully.”

“If any of us remain alive when Slathbog is defeated, we shall return the stone to you,” said Bregnest, dropping to one knee as he spoke. “This I pledge on my life and my honor, as leader of this company.”

“Your pledge is great, Silvan Bregnest, and I know it to be true. But I will not hold any man to another’s pledge and so must ask that each of you make his own pledge. If any of you feel you cannot make this pledge, I will not force it on you.”

Arconn dropped to one knee beside Bregnest. “I shall pledge as Bregnest has. I will do as you ask.”

The rest of the company followed Arconn’s example, each kneeling and pledging that if they were still alive when Slathbog was dead, to return the crystal to the White Tower. The pledge took on more meaning for Alex as he said it out loud, and he saw once more Iownan’s wisdom.

“True friends, you give me great hope,” said Iownan, smiling at them. “Though there is great sorrow in our parting, ride now, and know my hopes and good wishes go with you.”

Alex found himself unable to reply to Iownan’s words. A strange feeling of joy was in his heart, along with a deep sorrow as well. The company mounted their horses without speaking, and each of them bowed to Iownan as they rode past.

Alex and his companions rode east toward the rising sun. They soon left the orchards and gardens of the White Tower behind, but they didn’t look back. Alex’s sorrow diminished as he rode, and only the joy of Iownan’s kind words and smile remained with him.

Bregnest halted the company at the top of the first hill they came to, looking back at the White Tower before it was lost from sight. In soft voices, Alex and his friends each repeated their promise to Iownan, then turned away and rode on.

chapter ten

Magic Sword

The road grew worse as Alex and his friends continued east. Grass and weeds grew over the path in several places and there were no bridges over the streams they had to cross. Alex thought the road hadn’t been ridden over for a hundred years or more.

The day was clear and the sun grew hot as they traveled; it seemed the heat of summer would soon replace the pleasant warmth of spring in Vargland. Alex looked up at the clear sky, considering how far they still had to go. He had already traveled further on this adventure than he had ever gone in his life.

They camped early that first night away from the White Tower, finding a sheltered place a short distance off the road. There was less laughter now than there had been, but they all remained in good spirits.

“We should keep a watch again,” said Bregnest as they ate their evening meal. “These wilder lands have many dangers.”

“That is true,” Thrang said. “Though I doubt we’ll find any trouble so close to the White Tower.”

They agreed that keeping a watch would be a good idea, and Bregnest marked eight stones and placed them in a bag for each member of the company to draw their watch as he had done before. Alex, with his normal luck, drew the stone marked for the first watch, which made him happy.

As the others prepared for sleep, Arconn remained by the fire with Alex. He asked Alex to bring out his books so they could continue their lessons. Alex was happy to do so since the book that Iownan had given him was turning out to be interesting, now that he could read parts of it. Arconn also insisted he try to read from the magic book, even though it was much harder to understand, even with Arconn’s help.

“The book of magic is written with letters similar to the elfin,” Arconn explained, “though they are not exactly the same. You will need to learn both. Learning the one will help with the other.”

“Do the words mean the same thing in both books?” Alex questioned.

“At times they do,” said Arconn as he considered the question. “But magic words are not elfin in nature. They are more difficult to speak and read, but also more powerful.”

“There is power in the words?” Alex asked.

“All words have some power, whether written or spoken,” Arconn replied with a soft laugh. “You know this already, as do all who can read or speak, but perhaps you have never thought of it that way before.”

“Words have power to communicate and to tell us what things are,” said Alex, thinking hard.

“Yes, that,” Arconn agreed. “But words can do more than explain what things are. Words can give us knowledge and understanding. They can tell us of things as they once were, as they should be, or even as they might be.”

“And that is power?” questioned Alex.

“Understanding and knowledge are the beginning of all power,” answered Arconn. “It is late, and your watch has passed. Go sleep. We will continue tomorrow.”

Alex left the fire and sat down on his blankets. He considered Arconn’s words about understanding and knowledge. He wondered what Arconn meant by “should be” and “might be.” He didn’t see how understanding what something might be could be magical. Arconn’s lessons were not nearly as simple as Thrang’s infernoand quenchcommands had been. Alex’s questions and the magic letters continued to bounce through his mind as he slowly fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Alex woke early, his thoughts about magic vanishing in the night, but Arconn’s lessons continued. As the company rode, Arconn would occasionally ride to one side or the other and climb off his horse. When he caught up to the group again, he would stop next to Alex and Andy. He would hand a leaf or twig or a seed to Alex and ask him to identify it. Most of the items Alex recognized from studying Iownan’s book. When Alex could not tell Arconn what an item was and what it was used for, Arconn would simply smile and place the item in a leather pouch that hung from his saddle. Alex knew Arconn would bring these items out again when he had read more and could identify them.

By the end of their third day away from the White Tower, the weather turned wet once more. Low clouds filled the sky, and the wind picked up from the west. The road led them more to the south, though their main direction remained east.

“Summer rains are coming,” said Tayo as they ate their dinner.

“At least it’s not cold,” Skeld replied with a laugh. “Though wet is wet, no matter the temperature.”

“Wind and rain are allies to bandits,” Bregnest commented thoughtfully, scanning the area around their camp.

The hills they had been riding through were small and had spread out. The small meadows had grown into wide open fields with only a few clumps of trees and small hills between them.

“We should stay alert,” Bregnest continued, returning his gaze to the company.

“Alert and quiet,” Thrang added, glancing at Skeld.

That night, Alex had a hard time reading as he sat beside the fire with Arconn. His mind was occupied with thoughts of bandits and the trouble that could mean. Arconn seemed strangely watchful as well, as if he were waiting for something. He would gaze into the darkness for long periods of time as Alex read aloud, seeming to pay no attention to what Alex was saying.

“Are there really bandits this close to the White Tower?” Alex asked as he finished his reading.

“We are far from the tower now,” replied Arconn, his eyes fixed on the darkness. “Bandits have little respect for anything, even an oracle.”

“Will they try to kill us?” Alex questioned nervously.

“Perhaps. Though I think they would try to steal our horses first. A company on foot is easier prey.”

“Andy said bandits would attack first and steal our horses later,” Alex commented, remembering Andy’s words at the Troll’s Stream.

“Andy has little experience with bandits. Though at times they will attack first and steal later.”

Alex stood beside Arconn and looked into the darkness, but he couldn’t see anything at all. He listened as hard as he could, but all he heard was the wind moving through the nearby trees.

“Perhaps we should build the fire up.”

“That would draw them like moths, if there are any about,” said Arconn. “Take your rest. Your watch has passed and mine is just beginning.”

Alex did as Arconn said, putting his books back inside his magic bag as he moved to the tent he and Andy shared. They had been sleeping under the stars, but with the threat of rain, they had set up their tents as a precaution. Alex looked back at his friend before entering the tent; Arconn remained still and silent, gazing into the darkness.

They followed the road for several more days, seeing no sign of anyone or anything as they went. Each night, Arconn would teach Alex, who was learning quickly; Arconn seemed happy and impressed with his progress.

“Soon you will be able to read elfin as well as any man, and better than many elves,” said Arconn with a smile as Alex put his books away.

“You are a good teacher,” Alex replied.

Arconn did not reply, his eyes turning suddenly from Alex to the darkness around the camp. Alex followed Arconn’s gaze, but he could see only darkness.

“What is it?” Alex questioned softly.

“Perhaps nothing,” replied Arconn, his gaze remaining on the darkness. “Perhaps something. I have felt for several days that we are being watched.”

“Should I wake the others?”

“No,” said Arconn. “The danger is not close. Not yet.”

Alex felt nervous and tense as he lay down on his blankets. Anticipation filled his mind and he found it difficult to sleep. He pulled his sword closer to him, letting his hand rest on the hilt. The cold metal seemed to ease his worries, and slowly he fell into a fitful sleep.

A hand covered Alex’s mouth and he jerked awake, wanting to cry a warning to his friends. His hand gripped tightly around his sword.

“Stay quiet,” Thrang’s voice whispered. “Trouble’s close. Pull on your boots and come outside. Quickly.”

Alex could hear Andy moving in the darkness, but his eyes would not focus. He pulled on his boots and rubbed his eyes, trying hard to shake off sleep. Fastening Moon Slayer to his belt, he followed Andy out of the tent. He could breathe better in the open air, but he was still having trouble seeing. Clouds filled the sky, hiding the moonlight, but he could make out the gray outlines of his companions standing near the cold fire pit. As quietly as he could, Alex moved toward them, his senses becoming sharper with each step.

The wind had died down, allowing a strange silence to settle over the campsite. Alex could hear trees creaking softly in the light breeze, but what he focused on was the sound of horses in the distance, moving slowly from side to side.

“They will come soon,” whispered Thrang. “Be ready.”

Alex and his friends spread out, forming a line in front of their camp. Thrang was next to him on his right, Andy on his left. To Thrang’s right stood Halfdan and then Bregnest, but there was no sign of Tayo, Skeld, or Arconn. Alex gripped his sword tightly, worried about his friends.

“Where are the others?” Alex asked nervously, keeping his voice lowered.

“Close,” Thrang replied, lifting his ax to a fighting position.

Alex followed Thrang’s example and drew Moon Slayer from his side. The blade shimmered black in the darkness, a hint of blue running down the sharp edges. Alex felt a strange heat growing inside him as he held the sword and waited for battle. It was the same heat he had felt when he fought the troll, though he hadn’t noticed it then. A powerful desire to rush into battle grew in his chest and mind, but he resisted it, thinking it was just his nerves.

Suddenly the sound of horses grew louder, moving fast, no longer shifting from side to side but coming straight toward the camp.

Alex felt his stomach tighten, knowing that any moment he would have to fight and kill if he wanted to stay alive.

From out of the darkness, the dim outline of men on horses appeared, and Alex heard a terrible yell from the bandits as they charged. Alex and his friends raised their own battle cry when the bandits came into view. Alex saw some of the horsemen turn quickly to ride away, surprised to see an armed company ready to fight, but the rest charged forward wildly. Alex stood firm with his companions, afraid, but ready to meet the charging bandits and his fate.

The noise of steel meeting steel filled the air around him, followed by the groans of wounded and dying men. Alex sidestepped a charging horse, swinging Moon Slayer at the rider’s body as hard as he could. He didn’t think to strike a second time, but quickly looked for another enemy to fight. A strange madness filled his mind as he wielded his sword, a madness that drove him recklessly into the battle. To Alex, his movements felt natural but strangely alien as well. There was no time for him to think even if he’d been able to focus his mind. He had to attack the bandits if he wanted to stay alive, and he did attack. Without hesitation, without thought, and without fear, Alex rushed into battle as a great happiness and a deep