Spellscribed Tales: First Refrain (10 page)

They split, Leona circling around behind her berserking son. Joven moved to come in a third of the way out from there, and Balen the other third, making as close to a circle as possible. Joven and Balen readied their swords, and Leona picked up a mace dropped by one of Korvos' sisters.

Talen swung again, this time letting go of the body. Two hundred fifty pounds of armor plated body slammed into the two Rathes and knocked them down.
The body sprawling across them.

"Now!"
Balen cried. The three lunged in and swung.

With unnatural speed, Talen lashed out with his hands, knocking Joven and Balen’s weapons away. But he wasn't fast enough to turn and stop Leona from bringing the mace down on the back of his head hard. There was a sickening crack as metal met flesh and bone, and Talen staggered. His eyes rolled back in his head, but somehow he kept his footing as he struggled to remain standing.

Leona, terrified, wound up and swung again. The mace struck again, blood spraying from his scalp as he finally tumbled forward. He sank to his knees, the screams of rage drifting off as his muscles twitched, still trying to fight. She wound up a third time, and with a scream that resounded with terror as well as remorse, swung a third time. That time, Talen dropped to the ground.

The rage that could be felt pouring off him dissipated, but not instantly. Joven could feel it curl around him, almost as if it were a living thing, trying to find a way inside. He felt it probing at his will for just a split second, but then it was gone.

"The Furie," Balen muttered. "I could feel it."

Leona dropped to her knees, the mace clattering from numb fingers. She tentatively reached out and touched her fallen son. Tears glimmered in her eyes as she grieved.

Talen's body twitched. He groaned, but remained down.

"By the gods."
Leona murmured. "He's still alive?"

"You must have held back." Balen replied. "There's no gods in that."

Leona shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes. "No, I swung as hard as I could. The first blow should have painlessly killed him." she whispered.

"It's impossible for him to have survived three hits." Balen declared. "It's-"

Leona's eyes widened as she looked up at him. "Balen!" She shouted. "Watch out!"

Balen turned, sidestepping, but Davik had managed to line up the shot well enough that he hit even with the warning. The longsword punched through the leather armor of his lower back and pierced out the front, impaling Balen in the gut.

Joven leapt to the side on a knee-jerk reaction, and as he hit the ground and rolled, he saw he had narrowly avoided a similar fate as Korvos lunged in at him. They had recovered from being knocked senseless, and like idiots, Joven's family had forgotten them in the aftermath.

 
Balen swung his sword behind him, but was at a nearly impossible angle. Davik skipped back out of the way, letting go of the sword and drawing a long dagger. Balen's wound spurted blood as he swung, and he sank to his knees, grimacing in pain.

Joven rose, lifting his sword. Leona started to rise, but Korvos came at her from the side, a solid kick connecting with her head. She dropped to the ground silently and was still.

The only one left standing was Joven; against the man who had fought him to a standstill in a duel, and that man's father who had trained him. Balen fell to his side, trying to keep from bleeding out.

"If there ever was a time to need the Inheritance," Joven muttered under his breath. "It'd be now."

There was one difference from the last time he fought Korvos. It was no longer a duel.

Joven knew if he failed now, Daelen would come home to find his entire family dead and what had once been a comrade, the new ruler. He couldn't let that happen.

"Give up." Davik urged. "You couldn't beat my boy, what makes you think you can beat both of us?"

Joven smiled. "You want to know what?" he asked. "Now, I just don't give a damn."

He lunged towards Davik, swinging with his sword. While he moved, he pulled the battle axe from his belt. Davik juked back, avoiding the long reach of the sword. Joven let the momentum carry his swing in a circle and swung out with the battle axe as his back was momentarily exposed to Davik. Korvos still had a sword and was able to deflect his swing; however, it disrupted his own attack. Davik, seeing his back exposed, lunged in to stab at him.

Joven's axe caught him in the side of his face, the instant after the man saw it coming. Joven felt a satisfying thunk as the weapon hit home and dug deep. Blood sprayed across his hand and forearm as he let go of the weapon, leaving it in the man's corpse.

Korvos skipped back, his eyes wide with surprise. "You..." he started.

"Why would you want to have a fair fight?" Joven repeated. "You know you can lose those?"

His opponent's face reddened in rage.

"This is your only chance, Korvos." Joven said, taking a defensive stance. "You are the last one left. Give it up."

"For what?" Korvos retorted. "Execution? No, I think I'll take my chances killing you."

"You're never going to beat Kalenden." Joven replied. "With your family at your back, you might have stood a chance."

Korvos shook his head slightly. "No!" he exclaimed. "You should be helping me! Why are you helping him?"

Joven's face was set in stone. "You have betrayed our people and our ways! Gurn could be a harsh king, but we have our duty! You could have been king if you just fought him openly! You could have changed everything that way!"

"You can't beat him that way!" Korvos replied. "He's a monster! A beast!" He raised his sword, taking a step forward.

Joven readied his weapon. "We are barbarians!" he screamed in response. "We kill monsters! We slay beasts! That's what we do!"

They swung at the same time. Joven put every ounce of his remaining strength into the swing. The blade sang as it sheared the air towards Korvos' neck. Korvos swung in the same arc, their blades colliding at the midpoint. Sparks flew, and for a split second, the blades seemed to hang in the air, time suspended. Joven and Korvos exchanged one last look, and Joven saw a fleeting moment of acceptance in his opponent's eyes.

This time, Korvos' sword shattered under the force of the colliding blades; bits of shattered steel biting into Joven's face and pinging off the chest plate of his armor. Joven's sword continued its arc coming to a stop on the other side, the last eight inches of the blade streaked with blood.

Korvos, headless, fell to the ground. Joven slowly turned around the courtyard. The only other person in the yard that was both alive and conscious was Balen. He looked up at his brother, his face ashen.

"It's over?" he asked.

Joven took one more look, and then nodded. "Yes."

Balen sighed, wincing. "Great." he replied. "Do you think I could get
... I don't know, some first aid here?" he asked.

Joven dropped the sword and tended to his brother. The fight was over, and the enemy was gone. It was time to try to patch things up. Once he stabilized Balen enough that he would survive to get real treatment, he would have to give the all clear. For now, though, the fight was over.

* * * *

It hadn't been over. Joven survived without severe injury, but almost everything else had gone horribly wrong.
 Daelen never returned home, nor did King Gurn.

An investigative group was dispatched, and they found the battle site within a week. King Gurn, his twelve elite guard, and Daelen, had been ambushed by a pack of wolfmen that must have been over seventy members large. Gurn had been the last to die, his body still protruding over a dozen spears that had struck him. Joven was told they had to dig Daelen's body out from under twenty wolfmen corpses; having slain most of the enemy despite his numerous wounds. He had still been clutching the Inheritance in one fist when he was found, the other locked firmly around the broken neck of a wolfman.

Leona had suffered a severe concussion from the kick to her head, and they refrained from telling her the news of Daelen’s death for several weeks until she had recovered enough to handle it. She had mourned for months.

Balen survived, though by all accounts, most men died from stomach wounds as severe as he had suffered. He really was a mountain of a man, but he was bedridden for a long time. Holly stuck with him for a time, but left before he fully recovered.

Talen survived as well. By Balatoran law and custom, he should have been executed. But. Kalenden, in a rare streak of kindness, instead had him banished to the Berserker's Refuge, where he would remain for the rest of his life and cause no further trouble. Whether or not he could survive inside the refuge, Joven didn't want to know.

The only thing that turned out right from the whole event was that the new king, Kalenden, had the Rathe family struck from the mountain. Any remaining members of the family were from that point on, non-existent, and no one would interact with them. They drifted away from the mountain shortly after, taking what meager supplies they could gather with them.

The Guardian position was then, obviously, offered to Joven. He had no real choice in the matter anymore; there was no one else. He was the last Guardian of the Spengur alive, and it would be up to him to protect a man of magic against the rest of his people. Now, all that remained was to find the Spengur before the eclipse.

Chapter 05: Two Years Ago

Joven climbed the steps up to the eighth bowl. It had been months since he had last been called to meet with the king, and he was hopeful that finally, he would be called to action.

Over the eight years since his father's death, his family had grown apart. Leona remained at home, forever honing her smithing skills, and only selling her crafts to negate her costs. Balen moved permanently upon his promotion to General, and owned a fine house in the sixth bowl and had a wife with two young children. He had gotten very good at leading people, and in the few times they had sparred since, Joven still could never beat the man in a fair fight.

Talen's room had been mostly emptied of his personal effects. They had been thrown over the wall into the Berserker's Refuge when he had been sent there. Joven doubted it really mattered, but it was good to have the room cleared out.

Joven had spent most of his time traveling to different towns and villages in the barbarian lands; training under some, fighting others, and learning everything he could. He had devoted the entire last eight years to becoming as skilled and capable as possible in order to protect his soon to be charge. Every couple of months, he would make the trek back to Balator and check to see if the new Spengur had been discovered yet.

It had been quite difficult to locate one, it turned out. Most of the old Spengur were dead or out of reach; and the new mages in Ironsoul were either unwilling to come work this far north, or they were deathly afraid of the barbarians there, usually both.

This time, Joven had been hailed as he entered the city and instructed to ride to the castle straight away. It had to be for this reason, it had been years and the Spengur was becoming more desperately needed as the eclipse drew closer. 

He was met at the castle gates by his brother. Balen stood in his finely decorated armor, smiling as Joven approached. Leona had been getting good at embellishing armor, it seemed.

"Ah, Joven!" Balen called out. "Great timing, as ever. The king has a guest today!"

"Oh?" Joven replied, chuckling. "Does that mean I have to come back later?"

Balen shook his head. "No." he said simply. "Go inside, you'll see."

Joven entered the castle and passed unhindered through the foyer. In the throne room, he could hear a conversation at the far end as a wild haired old man in a somewhat worn black robe conversed with King Kalenden.

"Oooh..." the man muttered. "This place has changed since I was last here. It's gotten squirmy, yes, squirmy since the last time I stood by the throne."

Kalenden looked like he was struggling to keep his composure in the face of a constantly annoying guest. "Squirmy?" he asked. "The only thing different from the last time you were here are the columns."

The man glanced at the columns flanking down the sides of the throne room. "Ah." he declared. "Yes, yes. There are many more of them with scribbling on them! True!" he considered. "But that's not it. Your throne room... it's itchy!"

"Perhaps we can have this conversation elsewhere?" Kalenden asked, visibly trying to stay calm.

"No!" The stranger cried. "Here's fine. Just fine. Oh look, a guest!" the man turned to face Joven. Joven had never seen the king look so relieved.

"Joven!"
Kalenden exclaimed. "I want you to meet Kaelob."

"Hullo!" Kaelob said, waving. His eyes were open wide and his pupils dilated. If he wasn't on some kind of drug, he definitely seemed mentally off-kilter.

"Uh..." Joven responded. "Hi?"

"Oh, I like him." Kaelob said, turning to Kalenden. "He's the guardian? They've gotten bigger since the last time."

"The last time?" Joven asked.

The man extended a finger up. "Yes!" he cried. "I was here not three hundred years ago, when I was but a young Spengur."

Joven raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, the adventures I had. The adventures! The women! The wine! The badgers!" the mad man continued. "No wait, not the badgers." he shuddered as if captured in a bad memory.

"Again." Joven said. "Uhh...?"

Kaelob narrowed his eyes at the man. "Are you quite all right?" he asked. "You seem to have been stricken dumb. I think I have a cure for that somewhere..."

"You're going to be the Spengur?" Joven asked, incredulous.

Kaelob paused, searching the pockets of his robes. "What?" he
asked, surprised. "Oh dear, no! I am much too old for that. Too old!" he exclaimed, gesturing wildly. "Why I'm... well, really, really old!"

Joven blinked, confused. "You can't remember your age?"

"I lost track after six hundred." Kaelob snapped. "Anyway, I got word that you were all looking for a new Spengur, and I think I have just the man for the job!"

Kalenden's face brightened. "You do?" he asked. "Finally – I mean excellent. Where is he?"

Kaelob's face scrunched up as he thought. "Well, there's just one thing." he said. "He's not quite done training yet."

Kalenden rolled his eyes, leaning back on the throne as he sat down.
"Of course. There's always something."

Joven looked at his king. "I fear we won't be able to have a Spengur in time for the eclipse." he said.

Kaelob whirled on him. "Oh the eclipse? That old thing?" he blew air through his lips. "That's not going to be for another two years and two months!"

"What?" Kalenden and Joven both exclaimed at the same time.

"Yes, two years, two months, and fourteen days to be precise." Kaelob rattled off. "I wrote it on my calendar. I've got that here somewhere too..."

"Never mind the calendar." Kalenden interrupted. "You know exactly when the eclipse will happen?"

"Of course!" Kaelob replied. We mages keep very careful track of celestial convergences!"

"Will your man
be ready before then?" Joven blurted.

Kaelob turned to look at the bodyguard. "Well, I really do like you now. You've the right kind of mind for this game!" he said, his tone playful. "Yes, he will be ready by then. About a year and a half left of his training, if he keeps up his rate of study."

Joven sighed in relief. "That's it, then." he said. "When and where do I go?"

Kaelob dug into his sleeve and produced a small wooden carving of a pigeon. "Here, take this." he said, handing it over to Joven. Bewildered, Joven turned the carving over and around in his fingers as he looked it over. "That's a pretty good carved bird there." Joven said. "What is it for?"

Kaelob reached out and touched the head of the wooden pigeon with a long slender finger. He said something in a language that Joven couldn't comprehend more than the basic syllables of, and a tiny red light glowed from under his fingertip.

"There!" Kaelob stated grandly. "Now, when he's almost ready, that will give you the description and location where you will be meeting him. Don't
worry, it's only magic when it turns on."

Joven looked down at the red light as the mage withdrew his finger. A little rune of some sort glowed in tiny red lines on the head of the bird, as small as the nail on his pinky finger.

"So, I just carry this around, and when it...turns on... it will tell me where to go?" Joven reasoned.

"More specifically, when and whom to look for. I assume you know the way to Ironsoul? Yes?"

"Yeah. I’ve been there once before."

"Well then, great! Enter through the salt gate and you should have little difficulty. Don't worry about when the bird animates, it's quite polite."

Joven looked down at the wooden figurine. "Uhh...." he stammered.

"There he goes again." Kaelob said with a half smile. "Better get that looked at!"

The mage walked away from the throne, kicking up his legs emphatically as he descended the short set of stairs.

"Wait!" Kalenden called. "That's it? You are sure this new man is what I need?"

Kaelob looked back. "Well," he replied. "I get the feeling that the new Spengur will be all that Balator needs, and much more."

He smiled at the two of them, patted Joven on the shoulder, and started to walk away. "Toodles!" he said to one of the candelabra. He raised both hands, said a few words, and slashed into the air with the fingers of his right hand. A vacuous tear opened in the air before him, causing Joven and Kalenden to startle and lean back. Stars glittered in the black expanse as Kaelob walked through it, humming off tune. The tear sucked itself closed the moment he was completely within it, and the mage was gone.

Joven looked over at Kalenden. "You don't suppose the new guy can do that, do you?" he asked.

Kalenden slowly shook his head. "I hope to the gods that he can't." he said. "But now that that's been cleared up, I want you to rest for the next few months."

"Sire?"

"I don't want you going off and getting yourself killed now that we have what I need in sight." Kalenden ordered. "Stay home, practice your forms, find yourself a woman, give lessons to kids, I don't care."

"Find myself a woman?" Joven asked.

"Whatever it is you like." Kalenden said. "I want you to be here until it's time to send you."

"Oh." Joven nodded. "Yes, sire. I will stay within Balator until I receive the sign."

Kalenden nodded. "Good." he said, gesturing. "Now go. I want to spend the rest of the day with my wife."

Joven bowed. "Of course. Thank you." he said.

Joven walked out of the throne room and paused before pushing the doors open. It was finally coming time, and he only had to wait a little longer.

Whatever would he do with his time until then?