Sytravious: The Lost Warlock Of Moruz (The Oathbreaker Book 1) (23 page)

              “Well, I am just as positive that she does not want to be disturbed at such a late hour.  I know who you are, Sytravious.  Now, once more, I will ask you to leave and return tomorrow morning.  If you insist on refusing my request, we
will
remove you by force,” the guardian said.

              Sytravious clenched his jaw, trying his best to control his building temper.  He knew Kenshiro had gotten to the guardians as well so he could block all possible ways to get to Raiven.  He debated on how wise it would be to disarm the guardians and try to force his way into the temple, believing that once Jezra saw it was him, she would be understanding and hear him out.  Thankfully, he never had to make such a bold decision.

              “What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?”  Xertias asked as he emerged from the inner gardens to join his fellow guardians at the gate.  The head guardian saw Sytravious and motioned for the men to allow him to approach.

              “Ah, the young champion has finally arrived.  The High Priestess and I were talking about you earlier.  We were wondering why you have never returned, and thought perhaps Edgar had claimed you for himself after all.”

              “No, that is quite the opposite of what has happened.  I have been trying to see Her Holiness for weeks, but have been turned away every time,” Sytravious replied with annoyance.

              “That comes as a surprise to me.  It is the first I have heard of it, but no matter, you have spoken to
me
now, and I shall inform the High Priestess of your request.”

              “Is there any chance that I may see her now?”

              “I am afraid not.  She already has a guest right now, and will retreat to her quarters for the night after that.  Worry not, when I see her tomorrow, I will inform her of your arrival.”

              Sytravious nodded though he was unsure if Xertias was telling him the truth or not.  Either way, he had done all he could tonight.  He would have to return the next day and hope the guardian would keep his word.  He said farewell and set out for the city while he still had time.

              The night brought a steady and cool breeze from the western sea, which swept over the city and filled the air with smells of fires and all sorts of suppers being prepared.  He paced past the Dew Drop Inn, where Nysight might have still been working, but the forge was closed for the night.  He headed a few blocks away to the Trapper House and peeked, but he did not see his mother either.  She probably had gone to their new home.  He had hoped it would have been a late night for both his parents, so that he may avoid their inquisition by making it home before them. 

              Thinking there may still be a chance to beat them home, Sytravious hustled away from the bar and inn, towards their home.  As he took a shortcut through a backstreet, a large man covered in a hooded cloak cut off his path.  Sytravious instinctively stepped back and placed his hand on the dagger beneath his shirt.  The man pulled back his hood to reveal his big, blonde beard.

              “Easy there, friend, what has got you on edge?”  Bryce asked.

              “I think this is a reasonable reaction to a giant
cloaked man emerging from the shadows.  What are you doing lurking around here at this hour?  The bar is a block east,” Sytravious replied.

              Bryce punched Sytravious in the arm.  “It is good to see you still have your sense of humor, but I will have you know I do not drink as much these days.  Our mutual acquaintance has kept me too busy.”

              He rubbed his arm where the punch had landed.  “Who?  Raiven?”

              “Yes, your girlfriend.  Ever since Jezra’s arrival, she has had Raiven going all over the place, and guess who has to escort her?”  Bryce pointed at his chest.

              “I knew she was being kept busy, but Jezra is not the only one to blame.  Kenshiro has been summoning them around the clock, which is my fault, but
that
is another story.”

              Bryce crossed his arms and frowned at Sytravious.  “Another story, you say?  Kind of like the one where you are excellent with a halberd and joined the tournament, or like the one where you actually knew Raiven all along and kept it a secret?”

              Sytravious avoided eye contact for a few seconds before groaning.  He knew he owed Bryce an explanation, but he had not gotten around to putting one together just yet.  In truth, the fact that the guardian was busy had been working out in Sytravious’ favor, until now.

              “Yeah, like those. I am sorry about all the secrecy. I wanted to tell you everything, especially about the tournament.  You are my friend Bryce, but you are also a guardian, so I was not sure how you would react.”

              “
Sure
.  I know you did not mention it because you knew I would knock some sense into you, but that being said, I must say you are a damn good fighter.  However, that is nothing compared to what you have accomplished with Raiven.  I have been around her for years and no one has ever gotten her attention the way you have.  So, how about you teach your ol’ friend here a thing or two, eh?”

              “Hey! You are supposed to be checking if anyone is around and letting
us
talk, not asking him for advice,” Raiven whispered.

              Sytravious felt his heart jump at the sound of her voice.  He looked past Bryce, and realized her small frame had been concealed behind him all along.  She pursed her lips the way she had when she pretended to be upset, like that first day in spring.  The guardian stepped aside and allowed her to approach Sytravious while he checked around to confirm the streets were clear of any onlookers.

              “What are you doing out here? And you have the nerve to call
me
bold?”  Sytravious exclaimed.

              “Well, I had to be.  If I left it up to you, it might be another few weeks more before we saw each other again.”

              A spark ignited inside of him, something that had been missing for weeks.  “Well, I have been preoccupied these past few days.”

              “Oh, really? With what?”  She smirked and stared at him with her beautiful honey eyes, which seemed to shine in the moonlight.

              “Just some things…” he drifted off as her gaze transfixed him.

              Raiven bit her lower lip and pulled him in closer before locking her lips onto his.  He was taken by surprise, but that did not stop him from holding her tight, and getting lost in the taste of her kiss.  It had only been weeks, but for Sytravious it felt like an eternity. 

Bryce’s eyes grew wide in embarrassment and shock, and he cleared his throat as loud as he dared.  “I do not mean to break up the reunion, but this is not my idea of a discreet and brief ‘hello’, Priestess.”

              “Oh, sorry,” she said.

              “Just ignore him,” Sytravious told her.

              “No, Bryce is right.  I told him I wanted to see you so that I could find out what was going on.  I expected you be around more after the banquet.  What happened?”

              Sytravious informed Raiven and Bryce about his meeting with Kenshiro at the stables and the multiple obstacles the general had set up for him since that day.  He concluded with his meeting with Xertias at the temple that had taken place earlier that night.

              “If we are lucky I will have a meeting with the High Priestess tomorrow, and get on track to becoming a guardian. Let us see Kenshiro keep us apart after that.”

              “There is more to it than that, I am afraid,” she informed him, “I overheard Jezra and Kenshiro speaking the morning after the banquet.  It sounded as if they were bargaining over my courtship.  My cousin wants to marry me and Jezra seemed more than willing to help.  I could not make out the details they discussed, but it sounded like she was asking for something in exchange, and he refused.  What I know for sure is that the meeting ended badly because I saw him storm out.”

              “What an arrogant pig!”  Sytravious cried.

              “I will never marry him.  I swear it,” she whispered.

              “If only I could guarantee Xertias
actually
tells Jezra of my arrival.”

              Bryce walked over to Sytravious and put his arm around his neck, holding him in a tight headlock.  “You see where secrets get you?  All these obstacles and no help can be frustrating.  Trust in your friend here a little more, and
watch the doors open for you.  I will make sure Xertias and Jezra speak.  Do not worry, it will not be obvious.”

              Bryce released Sytravious and slapped him on the chest, before avoiding Sytravious’ jab to his arm.  He was grateful that Raiven’s guardian was his close friend.

              Nysight and Hellios hid in the shadows as they observed the trio.  They had been following Sytravious for the past several streets until he had come to a stop. 

              “That is him right there,” Nysight said.

              “His resemblance is uncanny, can it be true?”  Hellios asked.

              “It can, and it is.  Nyxseous gave birth to him the night the legion marched south, and I saw them to safety here.  I have raised him myself.  He is my boy, but at the end of the day, he is also the VanDrake heir.”

              Hellios watched as Sytravious spoke to the priestess and the guardian, marveling at how his facial features were an exact replica of his grandfather’s, right down to the cold blue eyes.  Uniting the boy with the army of legionnaires would spark the revolution they needed for years, perhaps even aligning some of the other legions behind them.  The only drawback was that he would first have to make peace with Nyxseous, which was something he would need to clear with Cairo first.

              “Do you mind if I stay a while and meet the boy?  There is much I would like to learn about him.”

              “You want to test his skills to see if he meets up to your expectations?”  Nysight smirked.  “I expected as much.”

              “You know, it is a tradition to duel a legionnaire before being accepted in our company.  It is a rule you upheld many years ago as our general.”

              Nysight nodded his head in affirmation.  He remembered the tribulations he put his legionnaires through all those years ago, but he did not worry about Sytravious dueling Hellios.  The assassin was very skilled, but having trained his son all these years, Nysight knew Sytravious would be more than an equal match for any legionnaire who wished to test his skill.

              “You may stay, but should you make any move against Nyxseous again, you will answer to my blade.  Not all your skills will deliver you from my wrath.  Do you understand?

              “On my honor, I will never harm her.  Once again, I apologize, General.  I will make this right, I swear it.”

              “I will remember that.”  Nysight nodded again, and then motioned for them to leave.  The two men slipped away into the darkness.

Chapter 21

Traitors And Lies

W
ith all the gold Sytravious won from the tournament, he had been able to move his family out of the Trapper House basement, and into a small flat in the southern mid-district.  When he arrived last night, he expected his parents to be waiting to question him, concerning his whereabouts, but they were locked in their room having an intense argument.  He was relieved that he had avoided the inquisition.  He went to his own room, laid in bed, and let thoughts of Raiven flood his mind as he drifted into a deep slumber.

              Every night for the past few weeks, he had been enjoying the best sleep he had in years.  He might have slept through the whole morning, if it had not been for the delicious smells of food that invaded his nostrils.  He opened his eyes, sat up in his bed, and realized the aromas were coming from the common room.  He wondered what could be going on because his parents never cooked, so Sytravious got out of bed to find out what the occasion was.

              His mother was nowhere to be seen. Nysight was sitting at the table, and a strange man was crouching at the fireplace, frying strips of meat in a pan.

              “What is the meaning of this?”  Sytravious asked.

              “Good morning, son.  I am glad you could join us.  I thought you would sleep until the next full moon.”

              “Who are
us
?”

              The stranger turned to face him.  “Where are my manners?  I am Hellios, son of Cairo.”

              He nodded and was still suspicious of the man.  He glanced at Nysight, who tipped his head as a sign of approval of the guest.  Sytravious studied the man and the way he moved.  Hellios’ tanned skin and rough beard hinted that he was likely outdoors most of the time.  He had several scars and projected strength like someone you would not take as a joke during a fight.

              “So, are we going to pretend it is normal for an odd man to come to our house to cook?”

              “This man is no cook, son.  I assumed you would have figured that out.  He is a soldier from the Fifth Legion of Moruz.  I trained and promoted his father to my lieutenant when I was the general of the outfit years ago.  His father has since assumed the mantle of leader and sent Hellios here to find us.”

              He listened to his stepfather, and studied the legionnaire with a renewed interest.

              “Bacon?”  Hellios asked.  He offered a plate of thinly-sliced meat to them.

Sytravious had never seen anything like it, but it smelled delicious.  “What is bacon?” he asked.

              “What kind of way is that to raise the boy?  He has never had
bacon
?”  Hellios reprimanded.

              Nysight seemed amused at the conversation going on at the table, while holding up his hands to request a moment to explain.  “The temple here in Valcrest forbids eating swine for food, claiming it is unholy for the body.  Thus, we have never had the opportunity to eat bacon, but he can try it now.”

              “Unholy for the body, huh?  Piss on the temple and their rules. We eat bacon,” Hellios replied.

              Sytravious reached over and grabbed a piece.  The first bite made his mouth water, and he shoved the rest of it down without another thought and savored the flavor.  He closed his eyes while chewing, and wanted to slap Nysight for withholding such a treat from him all these years.  “Mmmm… that is amazing.”

              Hellios clapped his hands victoriously, and they enjoyed the rest of the meal in silence.  Once they had finished eating, Sytravious decided to continue their conversation.  “So why did your father send you here looking for us?”

              Nysight and Hellios exchanged serious looks and paused a moment before they seemed to come to a silent agreement.  The legionnaire replied, “I have a special mission in the legion’s military.  I am a ranger of sorts, which means I venture out far from our stronghold for long stretches of time.  I recruit new soldiers and search for information regarding our enemies’ movements and plans.  If I overhear gossip of interest, I investigate it.  Recently, I picked up a rumor on a fishing island in the sea, halfway between here and Moruz.  Some drunken fool was babbling about how he spotted a VanDrake here in Havencrest.  No one paid him any mind, but I took it upon myself to check it out anyway, and here you are.”

Sytravious’ eyes widened at the mention of his surname.  He knew his stepfather had not gone into depth when he explained the family tree, but he was under the impression that the fact he was Byronicus’ heir was supposed to be a well-kept secret.  Yet, here was this outsider talking about him being a VanDrake.

              “That still does not explain how you ended up cooking breakfast in my house---” Sytravious started before being cut off by Nysight.

              “That is enough questions for now.  This is not an interrogation and Hellios is a trusted ally from my past.  If you do not trust him, then at least trust
me
.  I would not have let him in here if I believed him to be a threat.  Now, I think you have wasted enough of your morning, you need to go train, unless winning the tournament has led you to believe you no longer need to improve.”

              Sytravious almost forgot he was supposed to be getting up early to spar with Nysight in the Foxfire Woods, as that was their strict tradition. Winning the tournament and his ongoing mission to meet with Jezra had dominated his mind, and weeks had gone by without practicing drills with his stepfather.  He was surprised Nysight had let it slip this long and never bothered him about it once, until now.

              “Of course not. I am ready when you are,” he replied.

              “I need to go check on your mother though, so how about you take Hellios out today?  He fancies himself the best of the legion, but I know you can show him what training with me
all these years produced.”

              Sytravious smirked, wondering just how good Hellios might be.  “Very well, let us find out if you are as good as you think.”  He stood up and beckoned for the legionnaire to follow him.

              Hellios chuckled, and got up, looking every bit as confident as Sytravious felt.  He reached over and shook his hand, before replying.  “Oh, I think I can manage.  Let us see what you got, lad.”

              They walked through the woods without saying a word.  Both fighters had their minds on the sparring match.  Sytravious led the way to the secret training location, where Nysight also hid their stash of weapons in a hollow tree.  Once they arrived, he laid out all the arms, allowing Hellios to choose.  Surprisingly, the legionnaire selected the spear.

              He watched as the man tested the weapon’s balance and weight by spinning it over his head and thrusting it in the air a few times.  Sytravious took note of some clues that gave away his technique, and decided to select a long sword.  Even though it had been a few weeks since he sparred, he was confident he could beat the veteran fighter.

              Sytravious left for a moment to conduct a quick perimeter check of the enclosed area of the woods to confirm there were not any wanderers around.  Once he was confident that they were indeed alone, he returned to find Hellios leaning on the spear and looking bored as ever.

              “I thought you might have gotten cold feet for a moment.  Are you ready then?”

              “I see you are in a rush to be humbled.  Very well, let us begin,” Sytravious said.

              The two warriors circled each other, stalking as an animal would its prey and waiting for an opening or weakness to reveal itself.  Hellios let the staff of his spear rest across his back, with the spearhead pointed towards the ground.  Sytravious kept an open stance, letting his sword rest by his side, as he waited for the legionnaire to make his move.

              Their fighting style was similar enough, that they realized they were both waiting on their opponent to strike first.  Hellios had the advantage of reach, so he chose to break the ice and initiate the action when he swung the spear forward.  In response, Sytravious parried the attack with his sword and spun towards Hellios, striking with his own attack.  Hellios blocked the attack fast enough and pushed against the blade.

              “You are quicker than I thought,” Sytravious said.

              “And you are just as fast as I imagined you would be.  Youth betrays you that way,” Hellios replied.

              Sytravious started with a fresh attack, slashing his sword even swifter than before.  His opponent dodged, blocked, and side-stepped every strike.  Hellios jabbed and swung his spear down at Sytravious in between attacks.  Each became weary of the other’s skill as the match intensified in pace and strength.  Sytravious showed off his power, knocking his opponent backward with each blocked attack.  The legionnaire jumped back and held up a hand, a signal to pause the match.  He stopped and allowed the man to rest, pleased with the results so far.

              “I will admit as the duel stands thus far, you have bested me.  My spear is no match for your sword.”  Hellios breathed hard and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

              “Are you yielding so soon?”

              “I said I am bested as the duel stands
thus far
.  To be honest, I am not very good with a spear.  I have not used one in years.  I was just having a little fun.”  He stabbed the spear into the ground, and retrieved the sister sword to Sytravious’ own weapon.  He practiced a few combinations, handling the blade as if it was as light as a feather.  Then he motioned for them to continue the duel.

              “Hellios, that was a clever ploy indeed.  Let us hope you can keep up this time.”

              “Raise your sword and find out,” he retorted.

              The fight ensued.  The legionnaire fought with a greater sense of urgency this round, and Sytravious was on the defensive for the first time.  Hellios was the superior one with the sword, maneuvering his way around his opponent’s defenses.  The steel of their blades echoed throughout the woods.  He was keeping Hellios at bay, and knew the senseless sword dance could go on for hours.  This time, he took a step back to signal for a pause.

              “You are a genius with the sword.  Blocking all your attacks has rendered me unable to counteract.  Therefore, it is I who is bested…thus far.”

              “I can tell you have yet to master the sword.”

              “While that may be true, I believe I may fare better with this spear you tossed aside.”  Sytravious put the sword down, and tugged the spear out the ground.  For a few moments, he twirled it with ease.  The legionnaire was amused, and sniggered as he watched Sytravious prepare for the next sparring round.

              “No more playing, show me what you can really do.  I am not holding back this time,” Hellios said.

              Sytravious nodded and began to fight.  It was sword versus spear again but the skill of the wielders was different this time, with each man being a true master of his weapon.  Sytravious was very skilled and deadly with a spear.  He used the advantage of reach to keep his opponent at a distance with the weapon.  However, Hellios had real-world experiences in battles, something that no amount of sparring could teach.

The legionnaire baited an attack to Sytravious’ right knee, and then kicked up a pile of dirt into the young man’s face.  In the brief moment it took him to recover, Hellios had managed to knock him across his shoulder with the flat of his blade.  He would have landed a fatal blow, had Sytravious not managed to turn away just in time.

              “Nice, you got me with a dirty trick,” Sytravious said.  He bowed, and conceded the match to the veteran legionnaire.

              “There is no such thing as a dirty trick in the real world.  You have to be prepared for every nasty move your opponent will throw at you.  There are no rules in war, just life and death.”

              “Now you are starting to sound like Nysight.”

              “It is the truth,”  Hellios shrugged.

“Well, if you think you have bested me, then you have forgotten two major facts.”              

“And what might those two
excuses
be?”

              “First, these are sparring weapons, nothing more than toys to me.  My real talent comes into play when I get my hand on my mother’s halberd, Griever, the legendary family weapon that is made of dragonite steel.  Secondly, I fought you with steel, not magic.  If I had used my black flame, especially with Griever, you would be dead in less than a few seconds.”  Sytravious puffed out his chest as he expressed a sense of pride in his talents.

“And I wield a dragonite sword by the name of Daegon’s Rage, that halberd’s sister weapon.  As for the VanDrake magic, I have to say that you rely too much on that flame.  I have faced it before and turned out just fine.  Did you not know that my blade could tame its fire?”  Hellios shook his head as if he were disappointed.  “You have much to learn before you can lay claim to the Fifth Legion command.”