Kilaal's Sword

By Richard Wiggins

For three hundred years man has held the sword used by elves to wage a devastating war against them. Now Lythael’s high priest, Cosis, must return it to the elves so its true destiny can be determined. His only aid will come from a scout, a man, Evals, who has secrets and destinies of his own. Even the gods don’t know what the truth is.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Richard Wiggins
• Release date: Nov 21, 2011
• ISBN: 9781617520938

Book preview

Kilaal’s Sword

by

Richard S. Wiggins, Jr.

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

TreasureLine Publishing on Smashwords

Kilaal’s Sword

Copyright © 2010 by Richard S. Wiggins, Jr.

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Kilaal’s Sword

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Prologue

Rain spattered against the large tent as its door flap popped loudly in the wind whipping it about. Torches at opposite ends of the oval table sputtered wearily, casting undulating shadows onto the canvas walls and the grim faces of the haggard men. All heads turned as slogging footsteps approached, and the tent flap was roughly thrown aside.

Larthan entered, removed his helmet and shook the water from the sagging plume decorating it. Even the darkness couldn’t hide the huge forearms and chest that wielded a battle axe as easily as most men could handle a rapier. He wiped a gnarled hand through his curly brown hair which time had streaked with gray.

If this miserable weather doesn’t break soon, we may have to abandon the wagons, he said as he took his place at the head of the table.

Are the roads starting to wash out? a small balding man with curiously slanted eyes asked.

Larthan laughed. They’ve been washed out, Cosis. They’re almost rivers. That damn clay makes a nice roadway when it’s dry, but now it’s a sucking mire that pulled off one of my boots as I walked here. A good humored murmur rose from the men around the table.

Where’s Daxlan? Larthan asked as he glanced around the tent.

He hasn’t returned yet, general, one of the men said. Larthan grunted and sat back.

For several minutes a quiet settled over the table. The rain striking the tent and the torches crackling were the only sounds to be heard. Even the tent flap had joined the silence. One of the captains began drumming the table with his fingers. Another coughed and spat onto the muddy ground which was now the floor.

Do we move in the morning? Cosis asked at last.

Larthan stared at the little man. Cosis started to ask again when it seemed the general wasn’t going to answer. Larthan stopped him. Yes, Cosis, we will move in the morning. The question is - where? In case you haven’t noticed while riding in your wagon locked up with whatever our precious cargo is, we have unhealthy company now. Daxlan and the rest of the Scouts are trying to determine just who and how many there are.

What if Daxlan doesn’t make it back? Cosis asked.

If he doesn’t, which isn’t likely, then we will turn around and try to reach Miffil.

But we must continue to Sirens’ Forest, Cosis said.

If Daxlan doesn’t return, there is no way we will be able to reach the Sirens’ Forest, Cosis, Larthan said, his temper flaring slightly.

Cosis sighed loudly. Larthan, you don’t understand. We have to ... A slight swishing at the tent door stopped him.

Don’t let me stop you, Cosis, the man who had slipped in said as he approached the table.

Daxlan, it’s good to see you. We were worried. You were expected back at sundown, Larthan said.

There were some things I had to see for myself, the Scout Captain said.

And? Larthan asked.

And it’s not good, Daxlan said as he sat quietly at the table. We have assumed we’re being harassed by several Pychnie patrols. That’s true as far as it goes. What we didn’t know is there’s an entire Pychnie battalion backed by at least two Mandogo companies encircling us right now. Several gasps of disbelief escaped from the surprised listeners.

Can we make a run for Miffil? Larthan asked.

I doubt we could make it that far, Daxlan said. I have Evals trying to find a weak point in the circle. He is concentrating on an area that will let us reach the Quartz River Citadel. If we reach it, we may be able to hold out until the Pychnies tire of us and move on to easier prey.

NO! Cosis shouted. We can’t do that. We have to get to Sirens’ Forest. We must get there.

Daxlan stared hard at Cosis. There is no way we can get through to Sirens’ Forest. If we break through, we have to get to a fortified position or get overrun when the enemy regroups. We can try to reach Sirens’ Forest later. Right now we have to save our skins.

We have to get to Sirens’ Forest as soon as possible, Cosis persisted.

Haven’t you been listening?! Larthan roared. We are on the brink of being massacred. We will never get to your precious forest if we are all dead.

But we have to, Cosis said weakly.

Larthan snorted in disgust. The little man was a single-minded idiot.

Why must we reach Sirens’ Forest? Daxlan asked gently.

Cosis looked around him. I am not at liberty to say, he said nervously in a hushed voice.

Clear the tent! Larthan ordered. Daxlan, you and Cosis stay. His officers slowly began filing out. Move! Larthan bellowed, his temper all but out of control. The men scrambled out.

When the three were alone, Larthan glared at Cosis. Now tell us what in Vulcan’s name is going on here, he demanded.

Cosis wiped away the sweat beading on his forehead. He started to speak, but only an inaudible whisper came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. I have been instructed not to say anything under any circumstances, but perhaps if you understand the importance of what is happening you’ll... He waved away the though with a flick of his hand. I am sorry, but I can’t tell you. What you must know is if we don’t get to Sirens’ Forest, those Pychnies and Mandogos out there will soon be everywhere in our lands.

Larthan bit his lip in anger. He knew Cosis was odd, but all High Priests were. Lythael’s was just a bit odder than most. He had few dealings with priests and their occult ways, but Cosis seemed too secretive.

My men aren’t religious zealots who can be frightened into giving their lives for some mumbo jumbo from any priest, even the High Priest of Lythael, Larthan said. "This little trip was fine when I couldn’t foresee any real risk to my men. Escorting priests would be a rest from the constant vigil of patrolling the border, or so I thought.

I was mistaken to think this would be a simple task. I should have known the King wouldn’t recall the Gray Riders for something simple. I admit my mistake, but I tell you this, Cosis, I won’t compound it by getting all of my company killed just because you say your task is important. I have seen priests who thought gathering a certain herb was worth risking lives for.

Daxlan nodded in agreement. He’s right, Cosis. You priests don’t rate highly when it comes to common sense. My men have seen the enemy. They won’t take kindly to being told we are going against such a superior force just because the priest we are escorting says we must.

Cosis wrung his hands together then ran them through his few wisps of hair nervously. Very well. If I can’t get you to go any farther without telling the mission, then I will. Larthan, you must agree to hear me out.

Larthan frowned but grunted his agreement. Cosis cleared his throat. "As you know, before the Great Fire Wars, man was the only intelligent race on earth. Elves had been here, but they departed when the gods removed the magic from the world because they are creatures of magic.

Bagorda, the Dark God, tempted man away from all of the gods except himself. He also led man down the path to the Great Fire Wars. The Wars destroyed everything on earth. The destruction allowed the other gods to return. They healed the wounds of the world and imprisoned Bagorda.

Larthan said peevishly, We know our history, Cosis. What does this have to do with us? You’re talking about things that happened thousands of years ago.

Cosis held up his hand. "Patience, please. You must understand everything or you will understand nothing.

After the world was again whole, the gods placed the elves and man and many other races on it again. Two of the others are the Pychnies and the Mandogos.

A mistake, no doubt, Larthan growled.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. We are certainly not in a position to judge the gods. Anyway, these two races have no memory of the Great Fire Wars or the Day of Unmagic; they are too young. They have easily been duped by Bagorda with his promise of physical immortality. We speak of spiritual immortality to them and have no real proof. Bagorda promises them physical immortality and places before them the proof, a being who seems as old as the world and claims to have come from Bagorda’s paradise to help prepare them for it.

This being is named Erridaba, and he is the instigator of all our troubles.

Then why don’t we just sneak into his house and kill him? Daxlan asked.

Cosis laughed. "If only it was so easy. Erridaba is no mere mortal. I don’t really know what kind of creature he is. Some say he is a renegade elf, others say he is or was a man. For all I know, he is the sole creation of Bagorda.

"What I do know is unless he is destroyed, the West, our land, will be destroyed. Men, elves, and all other sentient races will either be destroyed or subjugated to the worst forms of slavery. Even though the Pychnies and Mandogos now outnumber us threefold, I think we could withstand a simple invasion. However, Erridaba has powers we can never hope to match.

Our only chance for survival is to ally ourselves with the elves. That is what this mission is for. Larthan’s eyes darkened. "We have been shielding the elves from the Pychnie encroachment, so they aren’t truly aware of the danger. There are those among them of substantial rank who do see the danger, though. They have won the ear of the elven Council of Elders but before they make any final decision, we must send them a token of good will.

They have insisted that we return to them what we won in the Elven Wars 300 years ago.

You don’t mean Kilaal’s Sword?! Larthan said horrified. Cosis nodded. No! You can’t do that! The Gray Riders were killed to the last man winning the Sword from that mad elf. It will be a dark day for mankind should the elves ever get it back. Our possession of it is the only thing that prevents them from warring against us.

"So most believe; however, it isn’t true. The elves no longer fear we will once again push them from their land as we were doing before the Day of Unmagic. They no longer live for centuries and have few children. Like us, they are lucky to live a single century, so they breed just as often as we, so they are in no jeopardy of our numbers overrunning them.

"Kilaal lived for the past. He was able to instigate the war with his rhetoric and the Sword. It was given to him by Lythael. Most thought that meant he was to be the bearer of the Sword when it was used on its holy mission. Only a few correctly guessed it meant someone from his lineage would wield the Sword for its true purpose.

"The few couldn’t sway the many especially with Kilaal brandishing his Sword, so we had the Elven Wars. Men lost those wars until, as you said, Larthan, the Gray Riders took the Sword from Kilaal. It was your great-great-great grandfather who pried Kilaal’s dead fingers from the Sword. It was he who, even as the touch of the Sword killed him, dropped it into the gold lined chest where its magic couldn’t reach another human victim.

"We have held the Sword in Lythael’s Temple since that time, its magic trapped within the chest. What has been forgotten is the Sword was a gift from the gods to the elves. All the gods’ gifts have a purpose. The Sword’s purpose wasn’t to conquer us. It killed men, true, but that’s because men aren’t creatures of magic so its magic killed them.

What the Sword’s ultimate purpose is, I don’t know. I do know that it can best serve us by being returned to the elves now, for without their help we are doomed.

You speak of doom too easily, Larthan said angrily.

Cosis laughed bitterly. "Do I? Haven’t you and Daxlan been talking of massacres and annihilation? You, the commander of the Gray Riders, and Daxlan, the captain of the Scouts. Surely if I’m not safe with you, then I’m not safe anywhere in the West.

Think for a moment. How could a whole battalion of Pychnies and companies of Mandogos get this far into the West without you knowing about it. Are your men slipping that badly, Daxlan?

Daxlan flushed. No, he said unconvincingly.

I don’t think so, either, but here we are surrounded by Pychnies and Mandogos. It isn’t because your men are slipping, it’s because they can’t see what moments before wasn’t there. And that is how magic works. Erridaba moved most of those men from somewhere in their lands to here instantly.

If he can do that, why didn’t he just move them right into the middle of us and take us completely by surprise? Daxlan asked.

Cosis shook his head. I don’t know. Perhaps the magic befuddles his men somehow.

He’s right, Captain Daxlan, a new voice said. Larthan jumped at the sound, drawing his dagger as he rose.

Larthan, put away your knife. This is Evals, my second in command, Daxlan said. He turned back to the tall man standing in the shadow of the doorway. Evals, this is a private meeting. Please wait in my tent to give your report.

I don’t think there is time, sir.

What do you mean?

Evals approached the table noiselessly. He placed a goblet in the center of the table. This is us, he said. As you know, we are completely surrounded. A large force of Pychnies is here. He placed another goblet. He placed a wine bottle directly behind the second goblet. "That is Quartz River Citadel. If we wait any longer, it will be cut off from us, but if we ride directly through the Pychnies right now, I think we will get through them with very few losses.

I went into their camp and found most suffering from the worst hangovers of their lives. Many are totally helpless. They would be nearly defenseless if we struck them quickly and soon. He stepped back from the table.

Larthan studied the makeshift map and laughed. Maybe we should wipe them out and then be on our way.

No, Daxlan replied. Even if we killed all of that company, the others surrounding us would still have us outnumbered. We must use this opportunity to get through their lines and to the Citadel.

And the Sword? Cosis asked.

Cosis, we will be dead if we try to get the Sword to Sirens’ Forest, Larthan fumed. The thought of giving Kilaal’s Sword back to the elves sickened him.

A company this large can’t sneak across the countryside, Daxlan said.

Cosis glared at Daxlan, then his eyes shifted to Evals. The tall Scout stood back impassively as the three haggled, but his eyes flicked from one man to the other studying the situation intently. Perhaps a company can’t sneak around the countryside, but what about a Scout and an old man? Cosis demanded. He nodded towards Evals to drive his idea home.

Daxlan sighed. The idea had occurred to him, but he hadn’t mentioned it because the only logical choice was Evals whom he loved like a son. That might be possible, he conceded.

Let’s not waste any time then, Cosis said triumphantly. I have to get ready to travel. Daxlan, I will let you choose which Scout has the best chance of getting me to Sirens’ Forest. He saw Daxlan’s eyes gloomily look towards Evals.

Your Scout will be at your tent in half an hour, Daxlan said. Cosis nodded as he hurried out of the tent. The three remaining could hear his steps splashing through the watery mud.

It will be best if you leave the camp as it is and ride as hard as possible through the Pychnie camp, Evals said. "It’s only a day’s ride to the Citadel.

The priest and I will part from you just after we break through the encampment. In the commotion we should be able to slip away easily, and our trail will be obliterated before anyone suspects anything.

We’ll leave within the hour so I had better begin slamming a few heads together to get the men moving, Larthan said gruffly and strode from the tent into the gloomy night.

Evals, I wish I knew what to say to prepare you for what’s ahead, but I don’t know what’s going on, Daxlan said as he stared into the dying glow of one of the torches. He hugged the younger man. I have the feeling our future hinges on whether or not you succeed.

Evals laughed. You have always told me no one man or one event determines the future’s outcome.

This may be the one time I am wrong, Daxlan said wryly, his humor returning. I’m just glad I trained the man who must bear the burden; otherwise, I wouldn’t be sure of the outcome.

You also told me an event’s outcome is never certain until it is over.

Daxlan cuffed Evals alongside his head. I also told you to respect your elders. Now get out of here before I change my mind and send someone with more experience. They spent another ten minutes in the tent with Evals telling Daxlan what he had the Scouts doing.

When they left, Evals made his way through the rousing camp to the saddlery tent. Around him men grunted sleepily as officers woke them. The muffled rattle of armor being donned mixed with the rain hitting tents. At the tent Evals got a pack frame, saddle, and two bridles.

Even carrying his awkward load, Evals easily slipped by the young Scout guarding the picketed animals. The Scout was too preoccupied trying to see what was happening in the camp.

Evals’s horse, a large roan, started to nicker when he smelled his master, but Evals silenced him with a gentle hand to his nose. He double checked the animal’s bridle and tightened the saddle’s cinch then went to find his pack horse.

The bay, a patient mountain horse Evals had acquired during a scouting trip to the East, nudged him as he carefully put the pack frame on the horse. The bay would carry a load heavier than a man, but she refused to allow anyone to ride her, the result of the savage scars on her shoulders and flanks. She wasn’t fast, but she could walk or trot even the roan into the ground.

Evals wiped the rain from his brow as he searched through the picketed horses for the priest’s mount. He had no idea what kind of horseman Cosis was, but he didn’t think the little man would be able to ride too well so he settled on a chestnut that had more stamina than most and a gentle disposition and gait.

After saddling it, he slipped up beside Davlin who was craning his neck to catch some hint as to what the commotion in the camp was all about. You shouldn’t let your attention become too focused on any one thing, Evals said casually.

Davlin jumped at Evals’s voice. He turned to his superior, wide eyed. Yes...yes, sir, he responded meekly.

Evals patted him on the shoulder. I need three horses for an extended trip, he said.

Let me help you get them, Davlin said quickly, trying to hide his embarrassment.

That’s all right, I already have them, Evals replied as he led the horses past the younger Scout. Remember what I said. Your life may depend on it next time, as well as the lives of all the others.

Yes, sir, Davlin said, humiliated. He knew the incident would get no further. Sergeant Evals would tell no one, but he would remember and check on him again. They both knew a Scout, even a young one, should never let such a thing happen. And it won’t, Davlin thought as the outlines of the three horses disappeared into the gloom.

Evals stopped long enough at the Scouts’ tent to gather his bedroll, his sword, and his bow. He slipped on his wool lined jacket. The late spring weather wasn’t really cold enough for it, but he could feel a chill coming and knew better than to let it set in. A man couldn’t expect to slip by the enemy unheard if his teeth were chattering uncontrollably.

At the mess wagon, the cook loaded him down with food. No use wasting more than we have to, he said. Before Evals could answer he tossed him a very light skin bag and said, Good tinder is hard to come by. No use letting the heathens have it, and turned back into his wagon clanging around trying to decide which of his pots were indispensable.

Evals led the horses to the blue wagon of the high priest of Lythael. Priest, he called. Shortly Cosis stuck his head out. When he saw it was Evals, he scrambled out of the wagon dragging a long, narrow chest with him.

This must go with us. It is more important than either of us, Cosis said as he handed it to Evals and scrambled back into the wagon. Evals was amazed at its weight. He had to spend several minutes readjusting the bay’s load to accommodate the leaden chest. Cosis clambered out of the wagon just as he was finishing.

Cosis deftly tied on his bedroll, looped the string of the sack onto the saddle horn, and jumped into the saddle. I used to love riding before the Lady called me into her service, he said smiling.

Evals returned his smile. The old man seemed excited about the prospect of spending weeks in the saddle exposed to the unrestrained elements. Evals doubted the enthusiasm would last more than a day or two at the most.

Cosis tried the stirrups, grimaced slightly, jumped off the horse and adjusted them. Much better, he said.

Shall we go? Evals asked deferentially.

Whatever you think. I am here only to watch after the chest and to speak with the elves. Getting us there is your job, Cosis said.

Then let’s find Larthan. He will be able to tell us when we leave, Evals said. He led them towards a point in the darkness where the sounds of men and horses were more concentrated.

Soon they found the company forming into a battle line. At its forefront was Larthan. The plume on his helmet sagged forlornly in the unrelenting drizzle, but he moved along the line of horsemen quietly giving commands ignoring the chilling rain. He saw the two riders approaching him and wheeled his mount to meet them.

You’re ready, then? His question was more of a statement than query. He studied the load on the pack horse and sighed. I hope you know what you are doing, Cosis, he said bitterly.

I do, Cosis answered.

Very well. You two get to the rear of the line. We will be moving in five minutes. As soon as we break through, you are on your own. He paused and added, You can continue on with us to Quartz River Citadel if you change your mind.

We won’t, Cosis said. Larthan grunted and continued down the line speaking encouragingly to his men. Evals led the pack horse to the rear, and Cosis followed close behind.

They waited the last few minutes in silence as did the soldiers. The only sounds were an occasional visor clinking into place, the patter of rain on armor, the creak of leather, and the snorts of the nervous war-horses. Evals pulled his sword and checked the halter rope of the mare for a third time to ensure it was securely fastened.

A single trumpet note started the line forward at a slow walk. Stay close, Evals whispered over his shoulder as he nudged the roan into motion. Evals looked overhead. Through the tree tops, he could see the sky just beginning to lighten. In the forest it was still black as pitch.

The Scouts would be near the enemy camp soaking trees with oil