Curse of The Seventh Sword: The Gauntlet of Feona (25 page)

“Nostalgic isn’t it?”  Matilom asked, turning to the
Baximus who was watching intently. 

“
What is?  That he twirls his sword like his father or that he wields two swords like his mother?”

Matilom shrugged. 

“Both I suppose.”

“
They say one’s abilities are in the blood.”

“
Indeed.  Is there anyone with the ability to find a pirate?”

“You could Matilom.  Or she could.” 
Baximus jutted his jaw out towards Lynda who was evading successive swipes from Davydd.  She ducked under a sideways slash from his right sword and spun around while crouched, with her leg extended.  Davydd could not react in time.  Both his legs were swept off the floor.  Davydd landed on his back and instinctively rolled to his left, while positioning his right sword behind his back so that Lynda could not take advantage of the opening.  As he finished his roll over his belly he whipped out with his left hand.  However Lynda was not there.  He felt the sharp metal blade behind him and stopped rolling.  Davydd looked behind him to see Lynda.  There was a white shimmering tear closing behind her. 

“You lose.”  She said. 

“You cheated mother.”  Davydd said as he got up to his feet.  “‘No godly powers’ was the agreement.”  He was panting and sweating profusely. 

“I know.  It was the only
way I could end this duel.”

“
You mean you could not defeat me any other way.”

“I mean you have improved greatly.  Bu
t you don’t know your own strength and as such, you don’t know your own limits.  How long do you think we have been dueling?”

It was then
Davydd realized he could not remember when they started.  He was surprised at being able to fight for so long without feeling the effects of waning strength, though he was now.  But that was not all.  What truly amazed him was in all that time, he had not been able penetrate Lynda’s defense, not once.  Yet there were a few moments he was sure she could have taken advantage.  They were only a few, yet they stuck out like glaring holes to him.  Was this what it felt like to fight with a god?  Was this what it felt like to fight with an uninjured principal?  The thought made him shudder.

“Get some rest and replenish your stre
ngth.”  Lynda said as she walked out of the training room and through the hallways.  “We will duel later on.”

Davydd
sighed and looked around him.  The training room was not really a training room as it was a prayer room for the monks of the shrine they were in.  The floor was made of mahogany wood, divided in thin long planks.  The balcony upper level, which spanned around the entire rectangular room, was also made of the same wood, as well as the repeating half pillar supports that held up the balcony and fastened it to the cream colored brick wall.  The dome shaped ceiling was made of stained glass paintings that depicted the many feats of the goddess Lynda and her siblings.  Davydd smiled at the irony.  In a hundred years he wondered if they would need new stained glass paintings. 

“
Davydd.”  Baximus called.  “We have matters to discuss.”

Davydd nodded
and headed towards the hallway Lynda had gone through moments earlier.  He had not gone far into it, when he turned right and walked up a set of winding stairs that led to the upper balcony level.  He finally got to where Baximus and Matilom stood awaiting him. 

“What is it?”

“As you know, we have searched for Ivan everywhere we can.  Right now, Leo, Sam and Max are on their third visit to Sangwa.  Luck has not been kind to them.  What shall we do?”

Davydd kept quiet for a while.  This was the fourth time he had been asked this question. 
What shall we do? 
He had always responded with the
Keep looking. 
However, something told him such an answer would not suffice this time around.  The truth was he still was not used to strategizing or giving out orders. 

“This is frustrating… on the one hand, we can easily find him if my mother
would only lend us her powers.”

“She would not interfere
unless…”

“… in dire circumstances.” 
Davydd finished Matilom’s sentence.  “I am well aware.  What could be direr than saving a child in trouble?”  Davydd gasped as he finished his sentence.

“That’s i
t!” he half yelled.

“What is it?” 
Baximus asked.

Davydd looked at
Baximus and Matilom.

“The archer… Kazan?  Did he not say he was son of Ivan the terrible?”

“He did, which is why we have kept him alive to make a trade in case Ivan has the gauntlet.”

“Ivan
has the gauntlet and we need to let Kazan go.”

“And why would we do that?”

“Because Ivan would never reveal himself for fear of losing the gauntlet and he would never sail into deep waters for fear of losing Kazan.  However, if Kazan were to turn up in Sangwa…”

“The balance is tipped in our favor.”  Matilom smiled.  “Why didn’t I think of this earlier?”  He asked looking at
Baximus.

“You are old.  Very old.” 
Baximus responded as they both turned around, following Davydd out of the balcony.  They walked down the winding flight of stairs and back into the hallway, turning right towards an exit which led into the shrine’s rather large courtyard.  At the edge of the courtyard, chained by his right foot to a heavy metal ball, sat Kazan.  He slowly lifted up his head to look at Davydd, Baximus and Matilom.

“Has luck smiled on you yet?”  He asked mockingly.  Reading the looks on their faces, he chuckled.  “It would seem the answer is ‘no’”.
  At this, Davydd dropped down into a crouching position and stared at Kazan. 

“Luck does not smile on you either.  It has been decided that you’ve outlived your usefulness.  You will be executed at the first crack of dawn tomorrow.”

“Executed?  You wouldn’t dare!!  You need me to strike a deal with my father!”

“I do not intend to strike any deals.  I merely seek to recover that which rightfully belongs to me.  And I shall do so by force if need be.  You se
rve no purpose alive, but at least the sight of your body will draw his ire.  Enjoy what little time you have left.”  With that, Davydd, Baximus and Matilom walked off.

“Wait!  You cannot do this!  Wait!! No!!!!”

Kazan struggled with his chains in futility.  All this time, he had placed his hopes in the knowledge that they needed him alive to lure out his father.  He never thought that Davydd could come up with such a sinister plan either.   Kazan gave up on the chains and sat still, his mind racing, trying to come up with a way to buy himself more time.  Davydd had already continued on his way to the main prayer room on the other side of the courtyard.  Instead of being constructed predominantly out of mahogany wood, this room was made out of concrete.  It was enormous.  It had three rows of four columns that reached all the way to the ceiling, which was flat instead of dome shaped this time.  From Davydd’s perspective as he entered the room, the wall to the right was lined with oval shaped windows, spaced at consistent intervals while the wall on the left had board paintings hung on them.  Each board painting seemed to tell a story.  Davydd stopped at a painting depicting a man in golden armor wielding a sword of medium length, against what looked to be a dragol.  The dragol had wings, just like Balek. 

“That particular
painting is in every king’s castle in Terrianus… except maybe in the one castle it is meant to be in.  Castle Alvo.”

Davydd looked to see that it was Vera, the high priestess of the shrine’s order of monks, The Order of Beatha.  Vera was a fair-skinned wom
an with an off white hair color.  Her hair was curly and part of it was braided at the sides.  The braids fell to the side of her face, just past her jaw line, while the rest of her hair curled and rolled over itself down to her neck.  Her eyes were glassy in appearance and almost white all through, except for a little darkening where the pupils should have been.  It had been explained that she was born blind.  She wore a long flowing dark blue gown and a green scarf wrapped around her neck. 

“Did the arti
st sufficiently capture his image?”

Vera laughed.  “These paintings are more about the legacy of these people than the people themselves.  If you want to know what your father looked like, all you have to do is look at yourself and within yourself.”

Davydd glanced at her and then back at the painting.  “How would you know that?”

Vera smiled.  “I am blind to but one aspect of reality
Davydd.  I still see you clearly.  As clearly as I can tell where I stand in this shrine so that I know exactly what painting you were looking at.”  It was then Davydd realized she had talked about the painting as if she could see it.

“How… how did you?”

“The air smells different.” 

“The air…”

Vera shrugged.  Davydd turned around and walked towards and empty board at the end of the wall.  It had no painting on it. 

“The story fo
r that is yet to be written.”  Vera said, almost reading his mind.

“Did all the others begin like that?”

Vera nodded. 

“So you have no idea how this story will play out then.”

“That board is actually the oldest of all the ones you see.  Before my mother died, she told me about a prophecy passed down for generations to all the high priestesses of the order of Beatha.”

“What prophecy?”

“That the world as we know it will come to the edge of complete chaos and damnation, and one man’s decision will decide all our fates… gods, humans and dragol.”

“One man.” 
Davydd laughed. 

“Indeed.  This man will wield in his hands the power of life, and the power of death.”  Vera turned to him.  If
Davydd did not know better, he would have said something about her staring so intently at him.  Vera smiled.  “But you didn’t come here to discuss old myths and paintings with me now did you?”

“I apologize for taking up your time.” 
Davydd said, catching himself.  “You have been more than kind to us.  Sometimes I wonder why.”

“No
need to.  I know exactly who I am in the presence of.  I would never deny aid to the one I worship.  What is it you need?”

“Tonight, I would like for one of your brothers or sisters in the order, to s
et the prisoner free.”

“I have no right to ask, as he is not a prisoner of ours, but… why?”

“Sometimes it is wiser to let the fawn go, so as to lead you to the deer.”

Vera smiled sheepishly.  “Well then.  Let the hunt begin.”

The night was a cold one.  Kazan balled himself together as much as possible to keep warm.  He wished the night would stretch out for as long as possible.  He even wished for dawn not to come, for the sunrise meant the sunset on his life.
  He’d had time to reflect on his life, but had chosen not to.  What good was it getting depressed before his impending death.  He’d lived as good a life as he could ever hope for.  He’d sailed with his father across the oceans since he could remember.  They’d discovered lands as yet unknown to all the empires.  Together, they had been on more adventures than others would experience in fifty life times.  No, he had little to regret but one.  He would never be pirate king.  A sound, barely audible, shook Kazan from his thoughts.  Kazan sprang forward and made an attempt to move until the tug of the chain on his right ankle, reminded him of the dead weight that kept him in place.  Out of the corner of his eye, Kazan caught sight of a figure moving from pillar to pillar.  The figure was cloaked in black garments. 

“Who goes there?!!”  Kazan yelled.  “Have you come to ridicule me before sending me to the beyond?!”

The figure suddenly rushed towards Kazan and covered his mouth before he could yell some more.  The hands were as slender and soft as that of a woman’s.  Kazan caught sight of the cloaked figure’s face.  He rested on the glassy eyes.  It was the lady they called Vera. 

“You…”

“Be still and silent.”  Vera said brandishing a key.  “If you want my setting you free to not be in vain.” 

“And why would you help me?  You shelter and feed my captors.”

“Despite that truth, I did not foresee you being treated so cruelly.”  Vera unlocked the metal band around his ankle that was attached to the chain.  Kazan looked down at his leg in disbelief.  He was free?  He was free.

“You don’t have much time.”  Vera said.  She pointed towards the huge twin doors to the right side of the courtyard and they ran towards
them.  Vera rotated the long wooden latch that held both doors together, upwards and pushed them open. 

“Go!” 

They could hear voices behind them.

What’s going on out there!  Someone’s letting the prisoner escape!

“Go now before they take you again!”

“My many thanks.”
  Kazan said staring at Vera.  Then he was off, running down the huge concrete steps leading up to the shrine.  The steps were numerous and sectioned off into three groups, each separated by a concrete platform before embarking on the next flight of steps.  On either side, at each platform, were two tall rectangular pillars made of concrete.  They were more for aesthetic purpose than anything else.  On top of one of such pillars, two figures were crouched. 

“What plays on your mind
Max?”  Sam asked as he turned his gaze towards his fellow guardian.

“That man almost took my life.  I’d rather him dead.”

Sam wore a look of surprise. 

“
Max, I’ve never seen you hold such anger.”

Max laughed.  “It’s embarrassing that’s all.  This life we were given, we always kn
ew it would bring us a violent death at some point, but to be poisoned?  Just seems a bit pathetic.”

“Ah so that’s it then.  You would rather meet your end in a blaze of glory.”

“The wish of every warrior.”

“Indeed.” 

They watched as Kazan stumbled and fell flat on his chest.  He struggled to get up and kept running. 

“Well then.” 
Sam said tilting his hat lower.  “The hunt is on.”

At the gate’s entrance, Leo stood invisible to the naked eye.  He watched as Kazan kept running.  Vera walked up and stood be
side him. 

“Do you think this will work?”

Leo looked at her in surprise.  Did she really know he was there?  He looked around and saw nobody else.  Maybe she was thinking out aloud.  He kept quiet and turned his gaze back to Kazan.

“You choose to remain
silent then?”

“You can see me?”

“Are you surprised?”

“Maybe.”

“How long are you going to hide because of your pain?”

“What do you speak of?”

“That heartbeat of yours certainly tells a story.  One I would like to hear sometime.”

“I cannot guarantee that my
lady.  We may never meet again.”

Vera turned to him and placed her hand gently on his chest. 

“Yes we will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know you will come back.  You will… and if you don’t, I will find you.  For whether you remain seen or unseen, I… can always see you… Leo.”

She felt his heart thud on her palm after her words and smiled. 

“Vera.”  It was Davydd. 

“We prepare to leave now.  You have sheltered us for close to a moon.  You have my many thanks.”

“None needed.  This place will always be open to you and your friends when need be.  You all will have my prayers and as long as I’m thinking of you, this is your home.”  She turned back to where Leo was standing. 

Davydd nodded and continued on as the others followed suit, each stopping by
Vera and offering greetings.  The last to come through the doors was Lynda.  At the sight of her, Vera dropped to her knees and bowed down low. 

“This has been and will be the greatest blessing of my life
.”

Lynda bent down low and clasped Vera’s face in
her hands gently. 

“I thank you for your kind heart.”  Lynda leaned forward and kissed Vera on the forehead.   

Vera leaped forward and embraced Lynda in a warm and appreciating embrace.

“Mother goddess!!  You honor me greatly.”

Lynda hugged her as well for a brief time. 

“Come now.  I must meet up with my son.  I leave you two to share farewells.  Don’t take too long Leo.” 

“My Lady.”  Leo said. 

Vera got up as Lynda left.  She turned to Leo. 

Leo walked up to her and knelt down.  He took her hand and kissed it. 

“I must go now Vera.  And when I return, I will have stories to tell you.” 

“I will be waiting.” 

Leo nodded and tipped his hat to her before departing down the flight of steps.  Vera stood atop the flight of steps watching them go before turning back inside.  As Leo caught up to the rest,
Sam and Max began sarcastically clearing their throats and whistling. 

“What is it?” Leo asked.

“Oh nothing at all.”  Sam said as Max chuckled.

“Your happiness warms my heart.” 
Max said. 

“Shut up.”  Leo said.  He felt embarrassed.

“Okay… priestess lover.”  Max said suppressing his laughter.

Up ahead,
Davydd and Vannera walked together. 

“Do you see him still?” 
Davydd asked.

“As clear as the sun itself.” 
Vannera replied.  She held his hand and he squeezed hers gently and reassuringly. 

“However, he does not take the path back to Sangwa.”

“Where is he headed?”  Baximus asked. 

“He heads west instead of south.”

“The field of brave souls lies west of here.”  Matilom noted. 

“
All the same, we have to follow.”  Davydd said. 

“Is that wise?” 
Vannera asked.

“What would you rather do?” 

Vannera turned to Matilom.  “Do you remember when Lady Feona set upon you during the Balek’s attack in Angweleth?”

“Yes of course.”

“Your aura was black.”

“That is b
ecause I was near death.”

“Well… I see a lot of black pulsating auras where he’s headed.  Are ther
e so many who are near death there?”

“Oh no…”  Matilom said. 

“What is it?”

“Those are not persons near de
ath my dear.  Those are lost souls.”

“lost?”

“Yes… they walk the line between this world and the next.  Wraiths they are called.”

Lynda walked ahead
of the group. 

“You will not be able to see him for long in such a cloud of souls
Vannera.”  She said. 

“What are you going to do?” 
Davydd asked.

“I shall aid from the skies above and make you aware of happenings around you.  This is your fight. 
Vannera seeing as you have the sight, I shall be speaking to you more so.  Please be attentive.”

“Yes my lady.” 
Vannera said respectfully.

“Matilom please tell them all they need to know about wraiths.” 

“It will be done.”  Matilom said. 

And with that
Lynda bent down and leapt up in the air.  She was off as quickly as an arrow through the air skyward, until she was gone from view.

“She seemed… upset.” 
Davydd said.

“Wraiths are what become of souls Feona can’t find or neglects if she has no interest be it either from her appetite being temporarily satiated or because the soul holds no worth
whatsoever to her.”

“It seems lady Feona will get a scolding.”  Segmiatus chu
ckled. 

“Careful what you say.” 
Sam said smiling.  “She can hear you even away from the shores of Angweleth you know?”

Davydd turned to Matilom.  “What threat do Wraiths pose?”

“Wraiths are shadows of the souls of once mortals.  They are lost auras who have been deprived of peace and happiness or pain and suffering.”

“They feel nothing at all?”

“And yet, to feel nothing, to know nothing, is to feel something.  That
something
is what they wish to share with anyone unfortunate enough to be caught by them.  Do not look into their eyes, or you will become a mindless person, without reason or logic.  That is, if you are not struck down before them.  You would be luckier if it were the latter.”

“They can fight?”

“They can, but only by instinct. They are the closest thing to the embodiment of chaos, other than the dragol.”

“How do we kill them?”

“Usually, in order to defeat a wraith, one must show it its former corpse in hopes of restoring the lost soul’s reason.  However in this case we have neither any corpse nor the ability to withstand such a large number of wraiths.”

“So, what shall we do?”

“We do what the pirate does.  We run through and pray that no wraith takes an exceeded interest in us.”

“Alright.” 
Davydd said.  “Max I want you to take myself and Vannera with you.  We can use your portals to navigate our way through the fields more quickly.”

“Your highness.” 
Max said as he made his way over to Davydd and Vannera.

“
Sam I leave you with Segmiatus and Matilom.”

“I doubt the old Wizard can endure such rapid
movements anymore.”  Sam said laughing.  Davydd shook his head before turning to Leo. 

“Leo, a pairing with the former wielder of the power of the unseen seems befitting.”

“As you wish your highness.”

Davydd turned to
Baximus who was staring at him and smiling. 

“What is it?”  He asked perplexed.

“One day… you will make a great king.”  Baximus said as he and Leo faded away from view. 

“Let us go.” 

The field of brave souls was a dark and desolate place, devoid of all life except for the grass that did nothing to provide respite in such dreariness.  Despite the day being broken and the sun rays illuminating the earth below, the field seemed enshrouded by a perpetual shadow, cast by a seemingly unmoving dark cloud above the field’s expanse.  As the group slowly moved into the field, they crouched low, taking cover in the tall blades of grass which had been allowed to thrive in the absence of grazing animals to feed on them.  Above them, they could see the Wraiths walking around in mid- air.  Some were lower set in the air than others, and some came very close to the ground, but none ever touched the ground.  They moved about aimlessly, making indiscernible noises from time to time.  Their eyes wore an empty look as they trudged along. 

“Matilom.” 
Davydd whispered.  “Why do their feet never meet with the earth beneath them?”

“They do not belong to this realm or to our reality.  All souls face difficulty
in walking with mortals without being noticed.  It is hard to… adapt to the limitations that rule over us.  Now then, let us be swift and be gone from this field.”

As they crept along, Segmiatus unconsciously scanned the faces of the wraiths. 

“These… these are mostly wraiths of soldiers.”

“Soldiers?” 
Davydd asked.  “Of Beathaleth?”