All Things Impossible: Heartstealer, page 4
Spike reared again, and his dinner plate hooves clawed at the air. His whinny was urgent. Der stood, and tossed the dirty meat into the fire. "I think something's wrong."
Jakkobb said, "I agree. He wants us to follow. Get your weapons and we'll investigate."
Spike led them on a game trail into the forest. His movements were amazingly silent and he traversed the path as if it was a road well traveled for him. The warhorse stopped and swished his tail. Jakkobb, Der and Kelin slipped forward like ghosts through the mist. The deciduous trees surrounding them were spread thin with few grasses and weeds to slow their quiet speed. The fallen leaves, soaked by recent rains, absorbed the sounds of their footfalls.
They crouched at the rim of a large, ancient ravine and listened to noises drifting upslope. Der used elvish without thinking about it. "I can't tell what they're saying."
"People in the forest are usually up to nothing good," Kelin whispered in Common.
"We're out in the middle of the forest," she pointed out, still using elvish.
"We're different. We know us. Besides, it could be a forester chopping firewood for Malfax."
The voices almost became audible as they drew nearer. She squinted, but still couldn't make out exactly what she was seeing through the trees and brush, which seemed much heavier below. The scrape of metal dragging over rocks crept up to the observers.
"Chains!" She craned her neck forward. "Chains are never a sign of ordinary people cutting firewood."
"They are too; you have to chain the tree trunk to something to haul it back."
"Alright." She snorted. "That's true, but chains and low muttering together?"
"Hush already!" the captain ordered. "Nobody cuts wood this time of evening."
Der opened her mouth to reply but suddenly felt hot breath on the back of her neck. Despite the warmth, her body chilled. Gripping her sword hilt, she turned. "Sir!"
"What?" he growled.
"Spike sneaked up on us. He walked silently, and he did it on purpose!"
"Shut up about the horse and listen."
She swore the horse smirked and bared his white teeth. He tossed his head and mane as if he were flipping his hair. Kelin gave her an apprehensive nod of agreement.
Below, several men stepped out from behind trees. They swung axes and swords around like toys. Most of them bore visible scars on their arms and faces. One of them looked as if he may have had dog in his ancestry because of a massive underbite. Almost immediately, a couple more brutes emerged from the darkness. Behind them, they dragged seven quivering people, fastened together by one long chain.
The trio scanned them with practiced eyes. There was not a great deal of difference between any of the captors, except their mismatched weapons.
"Alright, they're up to no good," Jakkobb whispered. "Here's the plan, we'll talk to them first and find out who they are. We'll try to avoid a fight if at all possible, especially since they outnumber us. I don't know what's going on with the prisoners in the middle of the night, but it's not good."
"Yes, sir," Der agreed.
The bald man waved his arm in a circle, and then another circle going the other way. He looked very much like he just didn't know how to stretch.
"Slavers!" Kelin breathed. "That's their secret hand signal. I saw it with Thistle once this spring when we were way down near Quon. They're not prisoners!"
Her jaw dropped. "In our kingdom?"
Jakkobb was already charging down the slope. He freed the axe from its sheath as he ran and it flashed dangerously against the torchlight. Spike leaped over their heads, from standing still to a flying jump in a single motion. He rushed down the steep slope with a whinnying battle cry of his own.
"What about the plan?" Der asked, thunderstruck.
"It appears to have become barbarian smash," Kelin replied in his most cultured accent. He stared as the knight took a slaver's head and most of his shoulders off with an incredibly acute crunch. "What pissed Jakkobb off?"
"I don't know!" She thrust a finger forward. "Fight!" She threw herself feet first over the lip of the ravine and half-ran, half-slid into the fracas.
Below, the slavers took flight away from the armored nightmare of the knight-captain, and ran directly into Spike. The warhorse reared, and brought one sharp hoof down through the skull of one and into the soil. His former partners wailed aloud, but at least had drawn their weapons. However, their blades seemed far too thin against the giant equine as they fanned out around the horse.
They never saw the runner approaching from behind.
Der drove all the momentum she had gained down the slope into her sword, and shoved it through the nearest slaver's back all the way to the hilt. She wheezed in relief. The sword still moved and felt the same extension of her arm as it always had. The man spasmed and went limp with a sigh. She didn't waste any time putting her foot on his back and yanking the Pallens sword free. As Jakkobb had said previously, in the fight you did anything to ensure survival of everyone on your side. Honor was what you did after the battle.
She whirled to her next opponent, who jerked a screaming slave woman in front of him and pointed his heavy sword at the young warrior over his captive's shoulder. The chain gang of slaves fell into line behind them.
Instead of cursing, Derora just frowned thoughtfully. The slaver retreated a step from that expression of mild concentration, dragging the kicking woman with him. Somehow, that expression on the face of a girl was more frightening than the bellowing knight.
Several feet away, Jakkobb moved like an unstoppable siege engine. The doubled-headed axe swung endlessly. No one even tried to fight him anymore. And yet, he moved faster than they could get away.
At last, Kelin made it into the fight. He let the nearest man have the first attack. He parried and grinned devilishly. "Ha-HA!" Then, he riposted. The slaver backpedaled away from him. Moving like a performing dancer, Kelin followed. He moved deftly for such a large man. The slaver lunged again. Kelin parried, and instead of riposting, he slapped his free hand to his waist and thrust his sword high into the air. "You'll never win, fiend!"
Thunderstruck, the man went for the obvious opening. The laughing swordsman parried him again.
"This isn't theater, Kelin!" Der shouted. She didn't move her eyes from her opponent and his human shield, but it was hard. She had never witnessed Kelin act like this before in combat! She hung there for a moment with her jaw open.
"Oh, alright. Spoil the drama." He smiled like a street magician and saluted with his foreign, slightly curved sword with an edge on only one side. He began to spin the sword in mesmerizing circles. The slaver stared stupidly at the sword, until it stopped spinning. By then, it was too late.
Derora tilted her head to the side. She regained the expression of a student trying to think of the answer to the teacher's question as the man brandished his weapon over the woman's shoulder.
When she moved, she thought his reaction was pathetically slow. She angled her sword perfectly, and graced its way within an inch of the woman and straight through her target's leather armor. He gasped and reared away.
Der immediately pulled back and thrust her sword into his exposed neck and the slaver's eyes bulged as he met his sudden kismet on her blade.
She withdrew her weapon and looked around in the deafening silence. "Is that it?"
The bloody mêlée was all over in less than two minutes.
Jakkobb lowered the axe slowly. The chained slaves stared nervously at it. He shrugged. "Appears so."
Spike gleefully jumped down on the back of a dead slaver. There was another explosive crunch coupled with many other smaller crunches.
The knight frowned. "Spike." Then, he passed his gaze onto the slaves.
The horse snorted and stepped to the side. He dragged his hooves through the thick grass to wipe off the blood and bits of bone.
Kelin knelt to clean his sword on the cloak of one of the fallen. "He's the strangest horse I've ever met."
Der wiped her face. "Jakkobb, are you sure that's it?"
The dragoon sighed. "Yes, Der, I'm sure."
"Oh." She glanced back to the woman she'd saved.
The middle aged woman held up a cleanly severed chain. "You must have the strength of ten men!"
Der wrinkled her nose. She didn't recall doing that. "Um," she forced a smile, "No, it's all about angles and momentum, and an extremely worthy sword." She held up the Pallens blade, which was still dripping blood. The slaves shrank away from her.
Kelin stepped beside her. He grinned. "Allow me. Let's get rid of these chains, shall we?"
Der nodded. "Ah, yes, of course. Which one will have the keys?" She waved her blade at the bodies.
He shook his head. "It's not like that, Der. Most of the time people are chained, they just hammer the chains on, no locks or keys used. See, no keyhole."
"Then how do you get them off?"
He held up his dagger. "Leverage and a good hammer. Fortunately, I have both." He sighed. "The hammer's back with my saddle though." He looked up toward the slaves. Most diverted their eyes, but a raven haired young woman stared evenly at him. Her face was wide and flat, and she boasted elliptical dark eyes. Her thick, black hair ran in waves down to her waist. She wore a ripped and faded robe, which had once been brilliantly red with gold brocade. She certainly didn't look like the humans born and bred around here. Maybe she'd come from a far off land like he'd been learning so much about in these last few months. A knot lodged itself in his throat.
"Camp isn't far," Jakkobb said from behind them. "We also have a dying campfire there. Kelin, you take them there and strike their chains, feed them with whatever we have. Let them clean themselves in the brook too if they so choose."
Kelin nodded. "There's a temple to Ahtome in Malfax. I just came from there. The nuns will take them these people, I'm sure."
The captain nodded. "Good idea. We'll head there tonight after they've eaten."
"Sir, it's already dark."
"I noticed. Now, get going."
"What am I doing, sir?" Der asked.
"You're helping me sort out and burn the bodies."
"Yes, sir."
Spike and Kelin led the way up the steep ravine. The slaves followed slowly and carefully. Der counted on her fingers. "We could fit three of them on Spike, and a couple others on the other horses."
"Only the ones who shouldn't walk. Save them what little pride they might still have, because the gods know they don't have much." He began to clean his axe. "Damn, I should've checked for broken bones."
"Wouldn't they have complained?"
He shook his head. "Probably not. I will when we get back to camp."
"Why do you care so much?" She knelt at the nearest corpse. Heat still radiated from the body. She wiped her sword on the dead man's clothing. "It's not like you, sir. You're the one with the plans and you just charged..."
The knight stopped moving. "You honestly wish to know?"
"Aye."
"Fine. You know that I don't use my elvish name."
"I didn't know that you had one. And, besides, Jakkobb is easier to shout across the battlefield then something with sounds I'd never heard until last year."
"Now. That's not why I have this name, that's why I kept it. Do you remember when I told you that when I first became a warrior that I was forced to kill people who had done me no wrong?"
She nodded.
"Because I was a slave once."
"What?" She nearly dropped the Pallens sword.
"You asked, kid. Some slavers kidnapped me when I was a small child, oh, about the human equivalent of four."
She gasped. "By the holy Empire, what happened?"
He scowled and stared angrily at nothing. "Never you mind, Der. Now's not the time."
"But, I want to know."
"No, Der."
"Yes, sir." She stared at the surrounding carnage.
"What's on your mind now?" he asked roughly.
"This fight was too easy."
"Der, you've fought chemmen, not humans."
"But, I thought these quick fights were just in Riversbridge, because they'd never been in combat. These slavers here, however, were seasoned."
"You had to learn so much so quickly during the war that you don't yet realize how much you improved."
"You and the rest of the elves still beat me."
"Yes, but you'd be hard pressed to find an average human who could. Especially since you use the Pallens sword. But," he shifted to a cheerful voice, "You have yet to join the army and learn what the military is truly all about."
She patted the hilt of the blade like a good dog, and reluctantly sheathed it.
"We'll start with the bald one." He grabbed the ankles.
She bent to grab the shoulders of the man's heavy cloak. She hissed and hopped back.
"What is it?"
She pointed. On his throat was a tattoo of a vicious snake with a head, poised to strike, on each end.
Jakkobb growled. "Not these fellows again."
* * *
Der's mind rolled with a hundred questions. She especially wondered how the invincible knight could have ever been in the same position as the tattered group of people they'd rescued. But, one look at the knight-captain's stern face was enough to save that one for later. Instead, she tried to think about the hundreds of questions she had for her best friend. She poked him in the back. "What was that swordfight all about? You never dance around like that."
He straightened his shoulders. "Well, after what hells we traveled through and somehow survived last year, I've found that nothing scares me. I tried to be scared when I left Arborn because I knew damn well what could happen, but nothing did the trick anymore."
"Oh."
"It's still all your fault. I would have never left Riversbridge if it weren't for you."
She held out her hands. "Yeah, but you were saying what amazing sights you saw with the dwarves and all. That would've never happened if we hadn't left home."
He let loose a grin and punched her shoulder. "I know. War'kiln was so amazing. They even have this thing were they put these waterwheels in underground rivers, and somehow, doing that, causes lights to travel on wires throughout their cities!"
She held up her finger. "Magic?"
He shook his head vigorously. "I asked, but they wouldn't explain it to a non-dwarf. It wasn't magic, though. Carak muttered something about lightning, but he got a very nasty look for it. He absolutely refused to say anything else about it, even in private."
Der's face screwed up. "How do you get lightning - underground - from a river?"
Kelin shrugged. "Yeah, it didn't make sense to me, either."
"We're here," Jakkobb's heavy voice cut into their conversation. He stopped at the base of the stone steps.
The temple's pillars were higher than any other building in Malfax. The roof they supported was painstakingly carved with relief scenes of historical and religious heroes in their moments of glory. Der slid behind Jakkobb. The former slaves retreated back behind her.
Kelin poked her in the rib. "What are you hiding for? Holy symbols don't ward you off."
She shrugged, eyeing the temple from around the knight's arm. "I had a bad experience the last time I was at a temple. I got in trouble for wearing my sword inside."
"Come on." The knight rolled his eyes and marched up the decorative steps. Der swallowed and jogged to catch up. Kelin and the slaves skittered after them toward the entrance. Inside, the temple boasted a high ceiling squatting on even fatter pillars. The white marble stone swirled across the floors and walls. A slender chryselephantine statue of Ahtome watched over the interior of her temple. She held a golden branch in one ivory hand and an open book in the other.
Despite the darkness, the people in the temple were still awake, bustling around in white and gray robes with rope sandals. The knight cupped his hands to his mouth. "Attention!"
All activity slowly spun to a halt and every set of eyes turned toward the entrance. Quickly, a white robed figure detached itself from the crowd. The priestess, with flowers woven into her long white hair, stepped forth and bowed her head.
"What do you require, sir knight?"
He nodded his head in return. "On my word as a dragoon knight, we were passing through the forest and discovered men trading slaves. We fought and freed them. After the skirmish, we discovered one of the men was a follower of Sennha." He gestured behind him and stepped to the side. "He was killed in combat."
"Was he a priest of the adversary?"
The captain shook his head. "No, my lady. He had only the double headed snake tattoo on his throat, no medallion."
"Then Ahtome thanks you for your bravery and skill, good warriors." She looked past them to the former slaves. The nervous huddle shied away from the powerful gaze. She smiled warmly, and her eyes sparkled with warmth like a cheery fire. "Do not fear, you are among friends here."
Her smile seemed to melt their fear. A few offered hesitant waves in return. "Step forth and be welcome in this place." She opened her arm behind her and several nuns in gray robes hurried forward. They took the freed people by their hands.
The raven haired girl stared at Kelin as the nuns led her away. He ran his finger around the ring of his collar.
"Feed them and clothe them," the priestess ordered. She turned back to the warriors. "Walk with me in the temple gardens, please."
They stepped outside into the enveloping kiss of the cool night air. They walked around stone paths through rows of well manicured, bright flowers. It didn't feel natural like the elvish gardens, but it was certainly beautiful in its colors. The priestess closed her eyes as she treaded on the familiar path. "I know Sennha's will was dealt a serious blow early last winter, but I knew it was not gone. Now we have proof of it." She took a few more quiet steps. "Tell me of your fight."
The three of them quickly recounted their individual roles. Der went on to say, "This isn't the first follower of Sennha we've killed. Kelin, Ed- another friend and I personally killed another priest autumn of last year in Duelingar."
"Then truly you are a warrior for good."
