Shaping Magic (3 page)

Chapter 5

Lindon was standing before Arden ready to practice with real swords. He had mixed feelings. On one hand, he was happy that Arden thought he was ready, but on the other, he was scared almost to the point of panic. It was one thing to get hit with a wooden sword and receive a bruise or two, but if he took a blow with real swords, he could lose a limb or worse, his life.

“Alright, Lindon, draw your weapon like your life depended on it, because it does.” The menacing way in which he said it almost made Lindon hesitate, but after a month of constant training and conditioning, he pulled his sword like he would for battle.

“Hold,” Arden commanded. “Do you see how your blade is angled?”

Lindon looked at the blade and realized that when he grabbed hold of the blade and pulled it out, he turned his hand a little and as a result, the edge was facing slightly upward. In a battle, he would not be in the right position to deflect a strike.

“I want you to pull and sheath your weapon a thousand times. Every time your blade is in the wrong position, start the count at one again. Got it?” Arden's tone weighted the situation.

Lindon didn't speak but instead stood there and pulled and sheathed his sword repeatedly. At first, he could only get a few correct in a row before he would have to start over.

By the end of the day, Lindon had hardly any feeling in his arm. The most he had been able to get up to was seven hundred before he made a small mistake and had to start over. He wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to lift his arm to start again in the morning.

Arden brought some liniment over to him. “Rub this into your shoulder.”

The next morning, Lindon had come up with a plan to get around the fact that his arm felt like mush. With a few adjustments to the sheath, he could use his other hand today for the exercise.

Arden watched Lindon's progress with obvious amazement. In less than half a day, Lindon had managed to pull his weapon a thousand times—with his left hand—while only having to start over twice. Lindon would learn later that the potential for him to be a two-handed fighter had never crossed Arden’s mind. There were very few swordsmen that could use two weapons and with his speed and two swords. Lindon could be one of the best.

After Lindon had done the exercise with his left hand, he undid the changes to the sheath so that he could practice with his right hand. On his first attempt, pulled one thousand times without a mistake. His weapon felt like it just appeared in either hand without effort.

Not quite ready to stop and rest, Lindon transferred the sword back into his left hand and tried some of the routines that he'd been taught. They were clumsy at first, but before long they would flow together almost like a dance. Still not satisfied and feeling like something was missing, he went back to the woodpile looking for another piece of wood that was close to sword shape and length. Finding a suitable stick, he took it over to the rock that he had made his first wooden practice sword and started shaping another.

Cora and Arden simply watched, not speaking.

Satisfied that the wooden sword was the right shape and angle to his real one, he stood and moved to the open space that they had been using for practice. Lindon walked though one of the routines at first, slowly to get the feel for the second weapon and where it belonged. Bit by bit, he increased the speed of the blades. As he grew in comfort having the second sword, the more complex his movements became. Before long, he was flowing from one routine to another with no problem. From the outside, it appeared that he was involved in a complex dance; the moving and twisting were so fluid it was awe-inspiring to behold.

When he had finished, Lindon stood there panting, out of breath from the practice. He looked over at his grandmother and Arden and was surprised to see the look of wonder on their faces.

Arden was the first to move; he rose from his seat and walked around the fire. Thinking that he was coming over to praise him, Lindon was momentarily stunned and nearly missed his opportunity to block the sword as Arden pulled his weapon and swung directly at Lindon's head.

As Lindon looked at Arden, he saw the red glow in his eyes the same as the day in the market when he had killed the six men. Fearing that this wasn't just a practice, Lindon fought with everything he had. He held nothing back but he couldn't get by Arden’s guard, and neither could his opponent. They fought like this for nearly half an hour, both fighters not giving ground, their weapons a blur. In the end, it was the wooden sword that betrayed Lindon. With a final swipe and a block of the wooden sword, the wood splintered, and Arden's sword stopped a hairsbreadth from Lindon's eye. Not moving for fear of getting stabbed in the face, Lindon lowered his weapon in surrender. As he did, the fire in Arden's eyes went out.

“Well done, Lindon,” Arden praised. “If it weren’t for the wooden sword, you would not have been defeated, but let that also be a lesson: Sometimes swords can break; be ready if it does.” Having delivered another lesson, he walked back to the fire sat down and commenced to care for his weapon.

Shaking from fear and exhaustion, Lindon walked over to the fire, threw his broken practice sword into the flames, sat down, and began to clean his weapon. When he was satisfied it was clean and sharp, he sheathed it, went to his bedroll, and fell into a deep sleep.

Arden and Cora were quietly talking when Lindon suddenly screamed. They rushed to his side, seeing he was in the midst of a nightmare. Unsure of whether they should try and wake him, they watched as he screamed out in a language that neither of them had ever heard before. Both of them could speak or have heard all the languages of man and even the subraces of the world, and they had never heard the language that was coming from Lindon.

“Has he ever had nightmares like this before?” Arden asked.

“No, he hasn't. This is the first one that I know of.” She answered with concern.

“Should we wake him?”

“I don't know,” she said. “Let me try a sleeping spell; I don't know if waking him is a good idea. The spell might calm him.”

“Do you think that's wise? I mean, after what happened with magic of the ward.”

“As I said, I don't know, but we should do something. I hate seeing him suffer like this.”

“Let me try to wake him first; I think it would be safer.”

“Okay, try and wake him, but be gentle.”

Arden tried to gently shake Lindon's shoulder, but there was no effect. The boy still writhed in his sleep. Arden shook his shoulder harder, but still no response. “Lindon, wake up!” he bellowed, but the lad would not wake. Nothing Arden tried could wake him from his tormented sleep.

“It looks like we have no choice but to try your way,” Arden said.

Cora knelt over Lindon, trying to discern if any outside source was causing Lindon's nightmares. Seeing nothing, she decided to attempt her sleeping spell; hopefully he would calm into a restful sleep.

The spell began like it should, but as soon as she laid it on him, he screamed in pain, arched his back, and with a flash of light, the spell was broken. Lindon calmed, but that was not what was supposed to happen. Normally, a person would simply ease into a quiet sleep, and the spell should have had no manifestation of light.

Turning to Arden with a worried look, Cora said, “I don't know what just happened, but for now he seems calm. Please watch over him. I need to rest. Wake me if there is any change.”

For such a simple spell, she felt like she had been casting spells all day with no rest. Her body ached all over, and she could barely make her way to her bedroll. When she reached it, she collapsed and was asleep instantly.

Arden kept a close watch on Lindon but there was no change. Glancing over at Cora's sleeping, he noticed that she looked older again, like the sleeping spell took something out of her. There was nothing for him to do but just watch and wait; he didn't know all the ways of magic, only the little he was born with that allowed him to be such a deadly warrior.

When morning came, Lindon sat up feeling completely refreshed. All his aches and pains were gone, even his arms didn't feel like mush. He wasn’t sure how or why he felt so good, but he was not going to complain about it. Lindon started to stoke up the fire when he noticed Arden was already up but was just staring at him.

“Morning,” Lindon grunted.

“Good morning, Lindon. How did you sleep?” asked Arden warily.

“I slept great; I feel completely rested and ready for the day.”

“That's good to hear,” Grams spoke up from her bed.

As she got up, Arden noticed that she looked like she did before the wayward spell. Seeing the concerned look from Arden, she gave a little shake of her head that prevented Lindon from knowing what had happened. He had no intention of saying anything but just gave a little nod to indicate he wouldn't.

Lindon noticed the looks his grandmother and Arden were giving each other out of the corner of his eye and thought something must have happened during the night that he somehow slept through. They clearly didn't want him to know about it, whatever it was. Feeling as good as he did this morning, he wasn't going to worry about it; he figured if he needed to know about it, he would be told.

After breakfast, Lindon started packing up his meager belongings and as he finished, Grams asked, “Are we going somewhere?”

Not realizing why he had packed, he turned to her and said, “I don't know…I just felt that we would be leaving.”

“It’s okay. Where do you think that we should be going?” she asked.

Feeling embarrassed now that all attention was on him for his weird behavior, he sheepishly muttered, “I don't know.” He paused. “I feel like we should be going south; I don't know why, I don't even know what is down that way, I only feel that's where we have to go.

“South is as good as a direction to go as any, and if we think of a different way to go later, we can always change direction then.”

Feeling better now that they would be leaving, Lindon couldn't explain it to them or even to himself, but something was drawing him south. It didn't seem evil or anything, but someone or something down there needed his help, and he felt like he had to go.

He was more than a little surprised but glad that they were leaving. He couldn't explain they were ready to go in short order.

“I think that is everything,” Lindon said after taking one last look around.

“One last thing, Arden, please wear this.” Grams handed one of the stones she had removed from the dead attackers.

Thinking that he was next to get one Lindon, moved up beside Arden.

“You won't need one,” Grams said. “I have given it to Arden because of the fight in the town. They won't be looking for you.” Lindon had the feeling that there was more to it than that.

Grams moved close to the reddish barrier that she had created when they had first come, and with a wave of her hand, the telltale glow of magic of the barrier came down.

“Okay, let’s go.” Arden took the lead them back up the narrow ledge. Lindon had thought that they would be going down, but was surprised to see that there actually wasn't any ledge past the cave; he was sure when they came that there was one. And didn't Grams say that anyone following would have just carried on past the cave entrance—wouldn't that mean that they would have fallen to their deaths? Lindon gave a little shiver at the thought.

He started up the trail after Grams. Moving slowly on the narrow ledge was not a matter of choice. One wrong move and no need to worry about anything but the quick trip to the bottom of the gorge.

It seemed to take twice as long to climb as it did when they came down. When they were almost to the top, Arden whispered, “Wait here while I make sure it's clear.”

Lindon and Cora waited in silence for Arden to return. After about five minutes, Arden's head appeared over the ledge and gave them the all clear to come up over the precipice.

“Well, Lindon, you're the one with the direction in your head so you’re in the lead,” Grams said.

Lindon gave a look up the trail toward town and the only home he had known. With a little sigh, he turned down the trail leading out of the mountains, heading for a destiny he didn't know anything about.

Chapter 6

They had been traveling for three days. Arden would consistently scout the road far ahead; anytime someone would meet them on the trail, he would come and warn Lindon and Cora and they would quickly find a place to hide off the trail until they would pass.

This time, however, the travelers came from behind, and they were coming fast. Arden was nowhere to be seen; as the horsemen came nearer Lindon and Cora could see that they were soldiers. Lindon was hoping that they were in too big of a hurry to bother stopping for two lone travelers, but when they drew near, the lead rider raised his hand, and the group of about twenty riders came to a halt.

The leader addressed Lindon. “You look like a strapping young lad; do you know how to use that sword
?”

Lindon thought quickly. The last thing he needed was to wind up in some army. “Uhh…No sir; it was, uh, my dad's, but he did died.” Lindon hoped his attempt at appearing simple would come off well.

“That's a shame; we can always use good swordsmen.” The leader paused, thinking. “We also need cannon fodder, too.”

The men behind snickered.

“Oh please, don't take my only boy away,” Grams simpered. “He's all I have left after the sickness took the rest.

“Sickness,” the man whispered, and at the word, the men started to retreat a little. “What kind of sickness are you talking about?” he asked, now a little more cautious.

“Oh, it was terrible, sir. At first the fever would start, then the boils would form on the face and genitals.” Lindon figured the quickest way Grams thought to get rid of these men would be to threaten their manhood. “After that, the itching would start to drive them mad.” With a sorrowful look, she finished with, “And some of the men would scratch so hard, their privates would tear off—and even that wouldn't stop the itching—until finally they died.”

  By the end of the story, most of the men were holding their hand over their crotch and slowly backing away. Finally, the leader turned his horse back down the trail and said to his men, “Head out men, the army don't need this retard boy or an old slut to win the war.”

At the word slut, Lindon almost pulled his weapon against the man, but Cora grabbed his hand before he could make a move. The soldiers rode off down the trail to whatever war they were fighting.

“Let’s get off the road and wait for Arden; we might not be so lucky next time we run into someone.” Grams was right; they had to get off the road.

They waited in silence for Arden's return. Now a man, Lindon imagined what it would be like to have the sickness his grandmother described to the soldiers. Shuddering, he was glad it was fictitious.

Arden finally arrived to take his mind off the thought.

Cora asked, “Did you meet the soldiers on the road?”

“I heard them coming and was able to get off the road in time,” he answered. “They seemed distracted and not overly interested in their surroundings.”

Chuckling she said, "I wouldn't be surprised, they came on us too fast for us to hide, and they were talking about a war they were going to and the need for recruits, so I told them that we were the only survivors of a particularly nasty little sickness." Grams was giggling like a little girl at what she had told them. Lindon really didn't think it was that funny, but he had to admit it was effective..

“If there is a war going on, it’s going to make traveling the roads quite dangerous. I just wish I knew where the fighting is taking place,” Arden said, trying to think of what they should do.

“We are about half a day's walk to the city of Kornas at the border between Salter and Corhan. In peace time it's not a problem getting across, but if there is a war going on it’s going to be impossible,” Cora stated.

“Why can't we just go around it?” Lindon asked.

“It’s not that easy; to the west is mountains and would take a month to go through if not longer, and to the east, there will be patrols. I had hoped to just go to the border crossing and talk our way through. It's a lot safer than getting caught trying to cross somewhere else. However, there might not be any choice.” Arden's tone was grim.

“We will also need supplies at the border town; we don't have enough food to make it to the next one,” Cora calmly stated.

“That settles it, then. We have to try the crossing and hope that the war isn't with Corhan.” With that statement, Arden got up and started back to the road. “One other thing, Lindon, try very hard not to draw any attention to yourself. Just keep your head down and let either Cora or myself do any of the talking.”

“I understand; I will just act slow and keep quiet.” Lindon agreed with them that he was completely unprepared to deal with strangers, having grown up in the little farmhouse and not dealing with many people.

“Good idea.”

With those last words, they started down the road.

After about an hour of walking, they came to the eastern crossroad. Most of the tracks turned east and the road south looked open. The border town was only a couple of hours away. Hoping that the trouble was all to the east and the southern road was clear of problems, the trio continued south.

As sunset grew near, they came in sight of the border town of Kornas. Lindon was unprepared for the site. Having grown up near the little village of Mentell, he had never thought someplace could be so big. The fortifications were massive; they must have been fifty feet high. One way extended to a cliff face of huge mountain, and the other way curved around the city. He guessed that it must go all the way around it, but could only see the side they approached from.

Unaware of the stupid look plastered on his face as they approached the gate, Lindon at first didn't see the four guards standing in front blocking their way. Lindon was too busy looking around at the fortification; he could see some movement behind and off to either side of the main gate. There were slits cut in the stone where arrows could be shot at anyone approaching the gate, and huge pots at the top on stands that could be poured on anyone attacking.

Lindon didn't have to worry about pretending to be slow-witted for the guards; the amazed look on his face convinced them better than any words. With very little hassle, they were waved in through the massive gates that stood open to allow traffic through.

  Walking through the gates, a horn sounded and the large metal gates started to swing shut. Lindon could see on each gate, a team of horses was hooked up to some kind of pulley system and with their power, the gates closed. He then saw four men, two on each side, turning large wheels mounted on the side of the wall that slid a huge beam into place, locking the gate.

“Let’s find a place to sleep for the night and first thing in the morning, we will get the supplies we will need for the trip. If we're lucky, maybe we can find some horses too. It would be nice not to have to walk the entire way; I am not as young as I used to be,” Grams said.

“Sounds good to me,” responded Arden.

Lindon didn’t have any comment about it; he had never been on a horse in his life and had only walked or ran if he needed to get anywhere.

Walking the streets of the city was a new experience for Lindon; he had never seen such a mean-looking place. There were people passed out on the sides of the street, their faces completely devoid of hope or even the will to live.

They came upon a building with a bed and a mug hanging on a sign. “This place looks as good as any,” Arden said. Leading the way, he opened the door and entered.

It took a few seconds for Lindon's eyes to adjust to the dim light of the room, and what greeted him was one of the saddest sights he had ever witnessed: Men were hunkered over their drinks, barely able to keep from falling over. Almost all the patrons were like the ones outside—devoid of all hope and laughter. “How can people live like this?” he whispered more to himself than to anyone.

  “Some people have just given up on life and drink until they can feel no more pain; it's the only way they can go on.” Arden had heard him and answered knowingly.

Thinking back to when he first met Arden, Lindon realized that the man had been in this position himself and was talking from experience. If Arden could come out of his despair and help him and his grandmother, Lindon realized, maybe these men could too, when they were ready.

Understanding that there was nothing he could do for these people, Lindon followed Arden and his grandmother to a table directly across from the bar. It looked like the cleanest table of the entire place.

When they were seated, a woman appeared at the end of the table. “What can I get for you?”

Arden spoke. “What's the food special?”

Lindon was more than happy to let Arden ask. This woman was causing him all kinds of problems. Without a doubt, she had the largest breasts he had ever seen, and they looked like they were fighting to be free.

“Roast bore or beef; your choice.” Her voice lacked emotion.

Lindon was sure that she could see him staring, but she was probably used to the looks she got.

“We'll have three beef, one ale, and two small beers.” Arden smiled at her as she took the order.

“You can close your mouth now, Lindon,” Grams said as the barmaid left the table with their order.

Quickly closing his mouth and looking down at the table, Lindon felt his face turn bright red from embarrassment.

“Got to give her credit, though; she does fill out her top quite nicely,” Arden said with good humor.

“Don't encourage him,” she said crossly at Arden.

“Yes, ma’am,” Arden wisely said giving Lindon a quick wink.

Lindon quickly looked down again to hide his smile from his grandmother.

Arden got up from the table and said, “I will go talk to the inn keep to see about some rooms, and we can get out of sight as soon as we eat.

Grams just nodded as he left the table. Lindon was looking around the common area when he noticed a man in the corner starting at Arden as he went up to the bar.

“Grams,” Lindon whispered, “that man in the corner seems to be watching Arden a little too closely.”

“I see him. Just keep an eye out for trouble,” she whispered back.

Arden sat back down at the table. “We will only have one room; after we eat I suggest we go up to it as soon as we can.”

Lindon was in full agreement; there was something about the people here that made his skin crawl. He didn't know what the feeling was just that he had to be on the lookout.

The food came and they ate in silence, not wanting to spend any more time in the place than they had to. When they finished their meal, they stood to leave. The main door swung open. Four men came in: three large men with swords and one tall skinny man in a long black robe.

The trio immediately knew they were the reason the men had come, yet hoped they could get up the stairs before they were seen. Lindon was not surprised when the skinny one pointed at them and yelled, “There they are, get them!”

Both Arden and Lindon reacted at the same time, pulling their swords free. As the men approached they spread as far apart as they could to give each other room to fight. Likely thinking that the boy wouldn't be much of a problem, the men split up and two of them went for Arden and only one after Lindon.

As Lindon watched the man move toward him, he noticed the way the man favored his right side just a little, and guessed that the man would try to take him out quickly with an overhead strike to knock the weapon out of Lindon's hand. He was prepared.

That was exactly what the man attempted but instead of blocking like the man was expecting, all he did was sidestep. The attacker stumbled forward, not meeting Lindon's sword. Lindon hit the man on the side of his head with the pommel of his sword, knocking him out cold.

Looking over at Arden to see if he needed any help, Lindon saw that one man was down already, and the second was bleeding from his left arm. Turning toward the man in robes, he noticed the angry red glow surrounding him just before a streak of blinding white light raced at him. Thinking he was dead where he stood and remembering the bolts that Grams had sent at the men who attacked them on the mountain, Lindon was completely surprised when the bolt hit him. He could feel a warmth surrounding his body but there was no pain, and he was still standing.

Just as Lindon registered the shock on the man's face, one of those deadly bolts tore into him, and he was blasted back out through the door he had just entered. Arden had trained him not to let shock or surprise stop him from acting, so as soon as he no longer had an attacker, he turned to help Arden and was just in time to see the last attacker fall, clutching his stomach and hit the ground.