The Truth Dancer

By Florian Armas

Hundreds of years ago, an ancient evil was defeated in the Great Dominion War, bringing relative peace to the Realm. But now the instruments of that evil, the powerful Death Dancers, are resurfacing to spread disaster and claim the control that was lost to them.

The Truth Dancers – a small order of women with powerful mental abilities that allow them to combat the Death Dancers – must place their hopes for victory in a young, untrained girl. Elise still has much to learn before she can face this evil, but she is determined to fight.

After its royal family was nearly wiped out, the Kingdom of Satmar lies in disarray, ill-equipped to deal with this growing threat. Sixteen-year-old Laval, the sole royal survivor and heir to the throne, faces danger on all sides as various court factions grow ever stronger and plot to seize rule from him.
In order to survive, he must bond with a norval, a mythical telepathic creature, and become a Guardian of the Realm and protector of the Truth Dancers, but his road will be long and dangerous.

Embark on a journey of self-discovery and political upheaval as Elise and Laval take their first steps along the path of love, honor, magic and war.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Florian Armas
• Release date: Jul 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9780993977251

Book preview

The Truth Dancer

Florian Armas

***

Copyright © 2020 Florian Armas

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without written permission of the author.

Cover design by Vibrant Designs

***

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

APPENDIX

Chapter 1

The forest was quiet until the clang of metallic fangs, half muffled as they passed through flesh, disturbed the silence. Caught in the trap, the beast growled in pain, then raised its head to howl. An almost mute howl, repeated three times. Its eyes closed, the beast breathed heavily. Its head resembled a wolf’s, but the animal was twice as large; it had the body shape of a panther without the retractile feline claws. People called them ‘norvals’, though no one knew what the name meant. It was a rare animal, so rare that, in many parts of the continent, norvals were thought of as legends rather than real animals. They were strong and they had strange powers, or so the legends affirmed. They could hear your thoughts. They could see in the dark. Nocturnal animals can see in the dark, of course, so this was hardly the stuff of legend, said some. They could feel your fear. Well, so could dogs, they said.

Once the pain subdued, instead of trying mindlessly to pull its leg from the metallic fangs, the animal stared at the trap and sniffed it. Its teeth briefly tested the strength of the metal. It started to lick its wound, and continued to do so, until the flow of blood stopped. The norval lay supine, its heavy white-reddish head leaning on an uninjured paw, thinking, blue eyes closed. It stayed like that for a while. It stayed like that until a twig snapped in the forest. Footsteps disturbed the fallen leaves; coming closer, toward the trap. The beast lay still but it was alert; its left ear twitched from time to time, the only moving part of its body. When the man appeared at the edge of the forest, the norval opened its eyes, a slit so thin that a casual observer might not discern it.

Laval stared at the norval, and slowly unsheathed his sword, then stepped forward, hesitantly. He stopped three feet away from the trap and stretched out his sword until the tip of the blade touched the animal. The norval did not move, and the sword played with the dense dark-red fur, scratching the skin behind its head.

I know that you are not dead, Laval said. And I know that you are not as weak as you are trying to look.

He moved the sword forward until the tip passed through the short hair between the animal’s closed eyes. Crouched at a safe distance, he pressed gently on an eyelid with the blade, and the eye opened for just a moment.

See? Laval whispered. Your pupil contracted at the light.

The animal opened its large eyes, staring at the man; a man who looked like a boy of fourteen. Laval was sixteen years old, but he was small for his age.

You don’t know it, but I am caught in a trap too. And it’s becoming tighter and tighter around my neck. You are a she-norval, and you have a litter. I’ve heard that you always have only one cub. If you die, your pack will take care of the cub, won’t it? Like the people who took care of me when my parents were killed, together with my elder brothers and sisters. I still don’t know why they let me live, and I wish I had been raised by someone else. His voice became bitter, and his eyes flashed with anger at the blue sky, then moved back to the norval.

Still crouched at a safe distance, Laval lowered his sword. With a sigh, he bit his lip, and nervously his right hand, now free, moved forward until he touched the norval’s nose with his fingertips, slightly flexed. The norval sniffed.

You are a clever animal. First you pretended to be weak; now you pretend that you don’t want to bite me. A man did this to you, Laval pointed at the trap. I am a man too. Well, he shrugged, I am more a child than man, but I am old enough to know that catching an animal in a trap like this is a cowardly thing. I know what a trap feels like, and I want to free you, but will you let me live if I do? You are lame already, as the trap almost broke your foreleg, and I have a sword. Even if you kill me, I can still hurt you badly.

Laval withdrew his hand from the norval and grasped the sword again.

If I leave you here, you will die before me. If I set you free you, may outlive me. I told you that I am trapped too, did I not? A trap is a miserable thing. They should have the courage to face you if they want to catch a norval.

He breathed deeply, eyes closed. I am scared. Father taught me to help the weak, but the norval is a powerful animal. Laval bit his lip in concentration, pulling a tiny bead of blood to the surface and, eyes open again, he looked at the norval with some expectation, waiting for a sign. The norval’s head moved so fast that Laval had no chance to react, and a wet muzzle pushed his hand up – a delicate gesture, almost human. Well, Laval smiled nervously. Slowly, he prized his sword between the metal fangs and tried to rotate it and open the jaws of the trap. I am too weak... And even if I try harder, I may break the sword. I have to try this closer to your leg. He stared at the norval, and removed the sword from the trap’s jaws. His fingers moved into the larger space next to the iron fang which had pierced the beast’s paw. I can get the blade in here, parallel with the iron fangs. And... I will have to push the lower jaw to the ground and press on it with my boot. It will hurt you.

The norval did not react, but her eyes followed Laval as he slid the sword inside the trap.

Now I have to press, he said, and his boot pushed on the lower jaw, changing its position until it was parallel to the ground. The norval growled deeply, but did not move. Once the sword was two palms inside the jaws, its tip stuck into the ground, and Laval used it as a lever to push the hilt up. This will hurt too, he murmured, and pushed the sword harder. I just need to push until the spring changes its position and the jaws open. It’s just... It’s just that I need more time. Braced on one knee, he tensed his body and pushed the hilt up again, his boot pressing firmly on the lower jaw of the trap. Metal clanged, and the jaws opened abruptly. You are free now, Laval said, his eyes fixed on the norval’s fangs, just visible in the half open mouth.

The norval raised herself on three legs; she was now taller than Laval, who was still on one knee. She growled, and suddenly her jaws closed on Laval’s left biceps. Instinctively, he closed his eyes.

Well... That was Laval’s only reaction, feeling the fangs piercing his skin. When he opened his eyes again, the norval was gone; the pain in his arm was bearable, and he felt a strange warmth such as he had never felt before. Did she just mark me? He massaged his arm. Why would she mark me?

He stood up, a little drunkenly, and his eyes circled the forest in front of him, as it stretched up over the hill. Where did she go? I don’t think she went down toward the road. The woods were eerily silent, most of the animals hiding themselves from the powerful predators roaming around. I must go now, before someone sounds the alert in the hunting camp. But I can’t leave the trap open. Laval hit the spring sharply with his sword and the trap closed, its metallic clang again disturbing the peaceful forest. Pain burst inside his head. It passed as fast as it came, and he felt a faint, subtle change inside him – an ebb and flow, like a sudden whirlpool in calm water, and all of his senses were heightened. With each step, he found that his muscles no longer obeyed him, and finally he stopped. Hearth pounding, he tried to understand what had happened, but his mind was not prepared for it. No mind is ever prepared for such change. Disoriented, he stared at the forest: gnarled roots pushed through the reddish soil, reaching up like petrified snakes. The trees were ancient, some as tall and thick as the small towers of a fortress. Dark green moss covered almost everything in a velvet blanket, and intermittent lances of rich yellow sunlight pierced the treetops, touching the forest floor here and there. Everything was muffled, majestic and untamed. These things he saw, these things he knew.

An inner bright eye opened inside Laval, and flashes of vision came to him. Uncontrolled, his eye moved left and right, up and down, images coming and going, some lingering, some vanishing fast, before they could be acknowledged. They were strange images. His eye took in everything that was alive in the forest – the vegetation, the frightened animals still hiding from norvals and humans, the water moving underneath the ground, the wind, suddenly full of unknown scents and soft colors. These were things he had not known until that moment. Not in this new way. The life of the forest was speaking to him, and nature’s elements were sending messages Laval was unable to interpret. Something moved far in front of him, three ghosts made of two different colors, and intuitively learning to control his inner eye, he focused on them. Two men and a dog... For the first time, Laval’s mind decrypted the message he was receiving. The men were dark red, the dog red too, with shades of crimson. Caleb... His inner eye closed, as if its first mission was accomplished. The sight he was accustomed with, returned to him. Laval blinked, stared once more at the top of the hill and then walked down on weak legs. What happened to me?

He entered the forest, which was again distant and frightening. Why did they leave me alone? Laval did not love to hunt, but it was something that he could not avoid from time to time. Two hunters were always behind him, ready to protect him while he walked the path chosen for him by the Hunting Marshal. They left me alone on purpose... Food for the norvals? After a minute, down in the forest, he saw the two men from his vision, and moved toward them.

Caleb... I don’t know the other one. What dog is that? The animal was huge, maybe not as large as a norval, but close, and its face was even scarier. A large, deformed head, with two fangs poking out of the ugly mouth, even when it was tightly closed. A Mastiff? I never saw one like this.

The men saw him too, and changed course, walking fast to join him.

Caleb, where are my hunters? Laval asked

Your majesty, Caleb bowed. The idiots lost you half an hour ago. The Hunting Marshal sent us to look for you.

Thank you, Caleb. Is that a Mastiff? Laval pointed at the large dog.

Yes, your majesty. Gurd sniffed out the path to help us find you. A good dog. I know that you are bored by the hunt. Do you want to play a game, your majesty? It may be more entertaining than just walking. Caleb squinted, avoiding Laval’s eyes. Lucky boy, he escaped the norvals.

Yes, Caleb. Laval clenched his fists, but he couldn’t stop the shudder from running down his spine.

Please give me your sword. Caleb stretched out his arm, and waited silently. Your luck ends here, Laval. Everybody tells me that you are a stupid boy. You have to play without the sword. Your last game. I don’t want you to hurt my precious Gurd. There is not much difference between being killed by a norval or a Mastiff.

Slowly, Laval unsheathed his sword, staring away from Caleb. A hundred feet from them, behind a small ridge, a norval’s howl pierced the forest. Laval’s inner eye saw it – a ghost of pure crimson – and a thin smile spread across his lips. The huge dog sprang, pulling the leash from the second man’s hands, and ran to face the animal.

You stupid bastard, Caleb growled at his companion. Even a dog is cleverer than you. If Gurd doesn’t come back quickly, I will have to kill the boy myself. He is weak; I can kill him with my bare hands and leave him to the norvals.

The dog disappeared behind the ridge. Two distinct growls were heard, and the noise of large animals fighting, then a desperate yelp. Then nothing.

Good boy, Gurd, Caleb gloated. Come back now. Your sword, majesty. He stretched out his right hand again, again avoiding Laval’s eyes.

Behind the ridge, the norval howled again.

What? Caleb turned toward the noise.

Swiftly, Laval flicked his sword, and the thumb of Caleb’s right hand fell on the grass. Let’s play the game you wanted to play, Caleb, Laval whispered, and tensed his body in a fighting stance. Without the dog. He seems to be lost.

I will kill you, Caleb snarled, pressing on the stump of his right hand to staunch the flow of blood.

The second man looked terrified. I have nothing to do with his, he cried and ran away from them, and from the ridge still hiding the norval.

Awkwardly, Caleb unsheathed his sword with his left hand. It’s just between us, boy.

So, your uncle Randal wants my place on the throne. Laval circled slowly, unsheathing his dagger too.

He will make a much better king, and I will become Marshal of the army.

With that hand? Laval pointed to Caleb’s right hand, still leaking blood.

With a feral growl, Caleb stepped forward without thinking, and his sword arced over and down to slice Laval in two. It hit the ground instead.

You are slow, Caleb.

How long do you think can you run from me?

As long as it takes.

Help! a cry rose in the part of the forest where the other man had run. A norval’s howl followed a moment later, cutting the cry off, and Caleb’s head turned briefly.

In a blink, Laval stepped forward. He slashed, and moved back. His blade cut through Caleb’s left thigh. As long as it takes, Caleb. He circled again.

Pain shot up Caleb’s limb, and he moved his weight on his right foot. An awkward stance for a man forced to grip the sword in his left hand. Worm, you’ve never beaten anyone with a sword. You are the weakest swordsman I ever saw. You will die now.

I don’t need to beat anyone else, Caleb, just an one armed you.

With all his strength, Caleb tried a diagonal slash, swinging wide, hoping to push Laval down. It was an awkward move, from a hand unaccustomed to handling the sword, and Laval left it unanswered. Losing his footing, Caleb touched the ground with his sword, and regained his stance quickly. Laval slashed when the tip of Caleb’s sword was still on the ground. At the last moment, Caleb swung his sword up and the blades met. Even though Laval was weaker, his sword had momentum, and pressed Caleb’s to the ground, leaving an open space toward his neck. Desperately he jumped and hit Laval with his shoulder, and they fell in a tangle of bodies on the dry leaves. They lay still; Caleb’s larger body pressing Laval to the ground. For a few moments, no one moved, then Laval’s arm stretched out. Caleb was twice as heavy, if not more, and it took Laval a while to liberate himself from under the heavy body. Finally standing again, he turned Caleb’s head with his foot, and retrieved his dagger from the dead man’s eye.

As long as it takes, Caleb. Laval stared at the forest where the other man had cried out; there was no noise or movement. No witnesses, he shrugged, and if they don’t find you, they may think that a norval took you. I will tell no one that you tried to kill me. The game will go on. Until next time. Did the norvals help me? He waved his hand at the undergrowth hiding the dead dog. A norval howled from somewhere close.

Laval took the longest path back to the hunting camp – it had the advantage of letting him sneak closer without being seen, and it passed close to the place where the second man had been killed by the norval. After three hundred feet, he saw the corpse through some bushes. His eyes moved left and right briefly. As if I have any chance of spotting a hunting norval. After a last glance, he threw Caleb’s sword down close to the man’s body. As close as he dared approach the killing place. At the edge of the forest, he hid himself behind an old tree and waited. Several armed men passed back and forth without entering the forest.

I have to go in plain view where more people can see me. Maybe Albert will be among them. He is the only one I can fully trust.

Laval looked calm, but his eyes seemed more widely open, searching the forest, and their insecure expression reflected his knowledge of living in a constant danger. The camp grew restless, and most of the hundred or so hunters and soldiers came closer to the edge; then ten men separated from the rest, and made ready to enter the forest.

Sander is Albert’s friend, but he was not part of the hunt. When did he arrive? There are norvals in the forest, Laval shouted and stepped out from behind the old tree, thirty feet away from the troop. Half of the camp heard his shout, and turned toward him.

Your majesty, Sander, the lead soldier said, we were coming to search for you. We heard the norvals too, and we were worried. Let’s go to the camp.

Led by Tymon, the Hunting Marshall for the day, a second group of men walked fast toward them. When he wasn’t hunting, Tymon was the third most important man in the kingdom, the Marshall of the army.

I apologize, your majesty, Tymon bowed, I take full responsibility. I chose the wrong men to guard you in the forest. They have already been punished.

How were they punished? Laval asked.

They received what they deserved for their crime of deserting you in the forest. Both were hanged. Tymon pointed to a large tree; two strange fruits dangled from its lower branches.

Wouldn’t it have been better to interrogate them first?

I did so myself, your majesty. They were just cowards who ran when the norvals howled. Nothing more. They deserved to be hanged.

No norval howled before they left me alone. Laval’s mind moved back in time, to the moment he perceived the two guards leaving him alone in the forest. A vision came to him, and the men did not look scared; they looked as if they were taking care not to be seen leaving. And there was something else present in the vision. A norval? Laval pushed his mind, but nothing more came. It looked more like a man, a boy. Who was that child? Is he in touch with the norvals? I have to draw everything when I get home, to learn more.

Yes, they deserved it. I am sure that the next ones will be more careful. Thank you, Tymon. Maybe the next ones will understand what happens to the unwanted witnesses of your ploys.

I sent Caleb and his dog to search for you earlier. Did you see them? Tymon asked.

I saw a large, white dog. A Mastiff? Laval glanced at Tymon, who nodded. A norval got him. I’d always believed that Mastiffs were stronger. It is possible that Caleb was attacked too, but I am not sure. I heard the noise of fighting. They were in that area, he pointed toward the patch of forest where the second man had been killed. Laval‘s voice was measured, controlled. He always paused before he answered a question, as if testing the words in his mind. People thought him too slow for that reason.

There were two men, Tymon said, with a hint of hope in his voice – Caleb was his son. Laval just shrugged. You, he pointed to Sander and his patrol, search for our men. Let’s get to the camp, your majesty; it’s safer there. Jorn, take two more men and go with them into the forest, he ordered his second-in-command.

There is no place safe for me, Tymon. You know that. Laval shook his head without realizing it, and followed Tymon.

The men returned from the forest half an hour later. One carried the dog keeper’s belt, a second one Caleb’s sword.

I apologize, Marshall, Sander said sourly. We found only the dog keeper’s upper body, and these, he pointed to the objects carried by his soldiers. One bastard less, the man thought. You can fool some people, Tymon, but not me. You tried to kill the King. That’s why you sent Albert home with that letter; but he is not alone in trying to protect the King, even if we failed him today.

Ashen, Tymon menaced the forest with his fist. I can’t even bury Caleb properly. I will kill all the norvals. Give me that sword. He grabbed it from the soldier, and raised it in plain view. I swear this before you on my son’s sword.

Blood was spilled today, but not the blood you planned, Tymon. Together with Albert, Sander was one of the few men still loyal to Laval, but he had only ten men under his command and arrived at the hunting camp by chance, an hour ago, only to find that Albert, a guard captain, had been sent away. At the court, all they could do was to walk in secrecy on a tightrope between the Chancellor’s power and the need to protect Laval. They had been successful once, when an assassin tried to kill Laval while he played among the ruins of the Sunset Tower. Albert smashed the man’s head when he tried to topple a ruined wall onto the King. The next day, the assassin was found under the fallen stones of the same wall. Everybody thought it was an accident, and Randal, the Chancellor, did not investigate further. They never told Laval what had happened, though he seemed to be distraught for a few days. We failed just now... How did Laval escape? Maybe we should talk with him. He is old enough to understand some things. It was a common belief in the castle that Laval was a very kind young man and a slow thinker.

Sander stared back at the forest margin for a moment; then he turned on his heel and headed into the camp, deep in thought. Troubled, all the hunters gathered around Laval and Tymon, and the later barked the order for return. They mounted, and the column moved at a slow pace. The mood could not be more different from the merry pack that came to hunt in the early morning. On the road back, Sander rode with Laval, trying to talk with him, but