The Cavalier (40 page)

Bright red blood gushed from the puncture wound and Jonas stumbled backwards, still blind from the blood that was pouring into his eyes. He didn’t know where the fire had come from, and even though he figured the magical flames came from Shyann, he did not have time to ponder the question. Jonas used his cloak, frantically wiping his face so he could see. He was able to clear enough blood from his face to allow him to view, through a blur, the scene around him.

The Greever roared in pain as its thick skin turned black from the God Fire. The demon glared at the dangerous warrior, its lips curling up in a smile, exposing long dirty fangs. The warrior was stumbling on one leg, blood pouring from the gruesome wound on his hip. The pitiful human was frantically wiping the blood from his eyes trying to find the stalking hunter. The Greever, though badly wounded, knew that it had this one defeated. The beast licked its dripping teeth anticipating the taste of the warrior’s blood.

Suddenly pain shot through the demon as arrows slammed into its back, into the joint connecting its left wing to its shoulder. The Greever spun towards the new attacker to see a brilliant light around eighty paces away coming at him like a shooting star. The demon crouched low, hissing in anger, and tried to flap its wings. The left one burned in pain and wouldn’t react to its commands. The arrows must have been magical as no normal weapon could have harmed him so seriously.

As the light came closer the Greever saw that it was a female warrior on horseback illuminated with powerful God Light. The cavalier held a long bow drawn back tightly, a silver tipped arrow pointing at the monster.

“Time to die, demon,” whispered the red haired warrior. She let the arrow fly, nocking another quickly. The arrow whistled through the air leaving a streak of blue magic in its wake. The sharp point slammed into the demon’s muscled chest. The arrows, blessed by the gods, burned deeply into the demon’s body, causing excruciating pain.

The Greever was getting weaker; the wounds from the deadly swordsman, the young cavalier, and now this female warrior, were taking their toll. The beast needed to destroy this new threat quickly. Using its powerful legs, the hunter from another world sprinted toward the horsed woman with astonishing speed.

The female cavalier sent another magical arrow into the chest of the charging demon. The shaft struck the demon in the upper shoulder, causing it to stumble slightly, but it didn’t stop the ferocious charge. The Greever closed the gap quickly and the cavalier dropped her bow and drew forth her long sword.

Suddenly a form rose from the tall grass directly in front of the charging demon. It was the man that the beast thought it had killed. The beast could not stop its momentum, realizing too late that the man was still holding his glowing green sword. That was the last thing the beast felt as it barreled into the man.

Kiln held the sword in front of him like a lance and the demon hit him hard. The impact felt like a smith’s hammer swung from a frost giant, the power of the charge driving the point of the magical blade through the demons thick chest, slicing through the protective bone plating that covered its heart, and burying the sword to the hilt, completely cleaving the beast’s heart in two. Kiln and the demon somersaulted through the air, landing heavily in a tangle of claws and limbs.

Jonas could barely make out the events as he stumbled dizzily towards the light, leaving crimson stains on the tall grass behind him. He saw the demon charge a horsed warrior, but it was all a blur as the blood in his eyes still affected his vision. His head ached and his temples pounded like an army’s war drums. The use of his cognivant powers had weakened him tremendously. The loss of blood caused his vision to blur even more, and his body felt too heavy to bear. Jonas finally succumbed to his wounds, falling face down in the bloody grass, his mind a whirlwind of visions and thoughts. He rolled over on his back and tried to stay conscious. The last thing he remembered before darkness overcame him was the vision of a lovely face framed in red hair leaning over him.

***

Jonas slowly opened his eyes struggling for consciousness. His vision swam and his head was clouded with pain. His eyes managed to focus on a flickering orange light which helped to bring him out of his sleep and into reality.

The light became a burning fire. Jonas was lying next to it and wrapped in his sleeping blanket. Sitting by the fire was a beautiful red haired woman who was gazing intently at him. He remembered seeing her briefly before he lost consciousness. She was wearing magnificent polished plate armor that reflected the dancing flames off its silver surface. A dark blue cloak was pulled tightly over her shoulders.

“How are you feeling?” she asked; her voice was soft and filled with concern.

“I feel weak and tired, and my head hurts.”

“Understandable, you lost a lot of blood and you suffered severe injuries to your head. I’m glad I was able to heal you. I feared you would have died.”
 

Everything came flooding back to Jonas in a rush of memories, and he bolted upright, frantically searching for Kiln.

The female warrior moved toward him and gently placed her hand on his chest. “It’s okay, the demon is dead, and your friend is alive.” She paused. “Barely.”

Jonas looked around and saw Kiln lying on the ground, wrapped in blankets on the other side of the fire. “What happened and who are you?” asked Jonas, dizziness overtaking him and forcing him to lie back down.

“Your friend killed the demon as it charged me. I didn’t see your friend until he rose up from the grass and lanced the demon through the heart. The wound in his back should have killed him, and yet he stood up in front of a charging demon and killed it. The beast hit him hard, breaking both arms and several ribs. He was filled with poison and he lost a lot of blood. I don’t know how he survived at all. He never should have been able to fight a demon that was that powerful. He was lucky his blade was enchanted and that he managed to pierce its heart. He must be very strong.”

“It was not all luck, and yes, he is very strong. Will he make it?” Jonas asked hopefully.

“I don’t know. I will need to link power with you to heal him correctly. I don’t have the power alone to heal such serious wounds. I merely stopped the bleeding and eliminated the danger of the poison.”

Jonas looked at the amber haired warrior intently. “How do you know I have power?”

“You’re a cavalier,” she said bluntly.

“I am no cavalier.”

“What do you mean? I saw your God Light, and that mark on your chest is a God Mark, for no human could make something so beautiful. You must be a cavalier.”

“What I mean is that I have had no formal training. I passed no tests and attended no school.”

“What? How can that be?” she asked with surprise.

“It’s a long story for another time. More importantly, what is your name and how did you happen upon us in our time of need? We owe you our gratitude. We would not be alive today if it were not for you.”

The woman smiled warmly, immediately reminding Jonas of Allindrian. She had the same sharp features, minus the elven ears and almond shaped eyes, and her smile lit up her entire face. Jonas analyzed the woman as she stared at him from across the fire. Her long red hair was tied back at the top of her head by a leather cord, which kept it out of her eyes. Light freckles dotted her creamy complexion which accentuated her full red lips. Yet the line of her mouth and jaw created an image of strength as well as beauty.

“My name is Taleen. I’m a cavalier to Helikon.”

“I am Jonas Kanrene. I thank you again for saving us. You’re from the lands west of the Tundrens?” Jonas asked, remembering from his classes at Finarth that Helikon was what the people in the west called Bandris, god of war, honor, and courage.

“I am. I am from Osrigard along the Ronith River.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of it. Where is that?”

“It is directly west of here, over the Tundrens, through the Tundren plains and across the Ronith grasslands. It took me eight weeks to get here.”

“Why have you traveled so far?” Jonas asked. “You are a long way from home.”

Taleen looked at him with interest. “For one who wields the power of a cavalier, you know very little about them.”

“I told you, I was not trained to be a cavalier. The mark and powers just…sort of…appeared,” Jonas added lamely.

“God magic does not just appear, young warrior, but that discussion can wait. Cavaliers travel to where their god directs them, and their god’s bidding becomes apparent as they near their destination.”

“You traveled eight weeks because your god directed you here?”

“Yes. Helikon needed me here…to help you, it would appear.”

“You traveled that distance just to help me?”

“I did. Something is happening, Jonas, that you might not be aware of. That demon that your friend killed has been destroying cavaliers all throughout Kraawn.”

“What! How many?”

“I’m not sure, but I don’t think there are many left. Maybe none at all, except for you and me.”

“But I’m not even a cavalier.”

“I don’t know how to explain that, Jonas, but Helikon brought me here to save you, of that I am certain. As you must be aware, there is a growing source of evil in the lands, an evil using great magic to destroy the cavaliers. I believe that the source of this evil is paving a path for invasion. A second Great War is upon us. And it’s up to you and me to help win this war.”

Jonas looked into her determined eyes.
 
“I will not shy from that task, Taleen, but I need to go to Annure to get some answers.”

Taleen stared at Jonas for a few seconds before looking into the flickering flames of the fire. The dancing fire bathed Taleen’s features in an orange glow, and Jonas couldn’t pull his gaze from her stunning face. She looked back into his eyes. “I agree. You need to get some answers. It may be that Annure will have them. I will travel with you. But for now, get some rest. I will watch over your friend until you regain your strength.”

Jonas had forgotten how tired he was, and at the mere mention of the word
rest
his eyelids began to drop heavily. He wrapped the blanket firmly around himself and let his eyes close in exhaustion. “Thank you again, Taleen,” Jonas muttered as his tired body shut down completely and he fell into a deep sleep.

“Thank Helikon, young cavalier who is not a cavalier,” Taleen replied as she watched the young man fall asleep.

***

It took most of the day for the Finarthian army to mobilize, but the king insisted that they begin their march immediately, even if it would be dark in several hours. Fil had never seen anything like it. The entire city was a bustle of activity as the army packed up supply wagons and the officers prepared their modrigs.

It was hard to believe that Prince Moredin was actually marching an army towards them. The prince ruled a large lawless city called Stonestep which was located along the trade routes that snaked through the dangerous Sithgarin desert. Stonestep was no friend to Finarth, and it was commonly known that the lands there were used as a staging base for brigands and raiders to poke their thieving fingers into Annure and Finarth. But Prince Moredin had never openly raised a sword against Finarth, nor had he ever allied himself so obviously with tribes from the Sithgarin.
 
Why would he do so now? What was causing this rash behavior? Everyone was asking the same questions as they prepared for war.

There were two ludus’s in a modrig and two modrigs in an akron, an akron being a thousand men. Ludus’s were further split into five pandars; each pandar was led by a lieutenant.

Finarth had roughly twenty akrons, not including the Finarthian Knights, which were considered a separate unit. Each modrig was led by a corporal and each akron was led by a third rank general. It was a hierarchy that seemed to run smoothly. Next in rank came the second rank generals that each controlled five akrons. Following that was the first rank general, or high commander, who was in charge of the entire Finarthian army, including the knights. The king, of course, commanded them all. Fil had never met the high commander, but he had learned from Tanus, the corporal of their modrig, that his name was Volnos and he was an aging veteran of many campaigns.

Fil marched in line next to Calden, his friend and fellow knight apprentice. There were no other apprentices in their modrig or even their akron. They had been spread out to different units. It was organized that way for a reason, forcing the young men to interact with different people and establishing relationships with soldiers from various backgrounds.

Each of the soldiers wore a hardened leather breastplate lined with circles of steel over a shirt of heavy chain mail. Their forearms, thighs and shins were protected by leather reinforced with steel plates. Each footman soldier was issued a short infantry sword, stabbing spear, and a steel shield, all designed for formation fighting.
 

Fil gripped his spear with anxiety, wondering if the rest of the men felt the way he did, eager, yet frightened at the same time. He scanned the men around him and saw no hesitation in them. They were mostly middle aged veterans who had fought and survived many battles, which was why his akron was a front line unit. Calden, marching next to him, gave a sidelong glance at Fil.