The Descendants Book One: The Broken Scroll (47 page)

“Three days’ time is when enough supplies, armor, and weapons are expected to be ready.  All other necessities do not take the same amount of time.  We were waiting for you.  Now we wait for the blacksmiths.” 

Davin had hoped that they could push on tomorrow, but he knew that would be out of the question.  Besides, the people needed time to prepare their skills and their hearts for combat.  He settled for an alternative option to pass the time, hoping to, if only ever so slightly, speed the process along. 

“I wish to join the smithies tomorrow.  Roland taught me much about his trade.  I can help,” he said. 

“I’m sure they will be pleased to have another hand.” 

Davin’s eyes fell back upon the fighters in front of him.  Egan had moved into another man.  This one came at him furiously and wildly.  Once Egan had expediently disarmed him, they shared a few words.  Even without using his hearing gift, Davin could tell Egan was scolding the man for his display. 

Davin turned to Niahm
, a sobering thought on his mind.  “I pray we do not face the king’s forces head on, because we will not stand a chance against them.”

Niahm looked back at him sincerely.  “I believe we do.  It is not always what you know, Davin.  These people fight not with their heads or out of duty, but with their hearts.  There is something to be said in that.” 

Davin took in her words as they joined Egan on the grounds and took up arms themselves.  A new sense of hope ignited in his soul and it made him feel content. 

Niahm had at least some skill with the sword, Davin noticed.  She didn’t have speed on her side, but she struck with deadly precision and strength, making each strike count.  Several times she nearly beat him simply because his grip had been too loose.  But she never actually did, thankfully. 
How embarrassing it would be for a Descendant to be beaten going one on one with a middle-aged woman. 

When Egan had made his way around to everyone on the grounds, he made a suggestion to Davin, smiling wryly.  

“What do you say about showing these people a bit of Driocht?  It might strengthen their spirits, and give us some practice.”

“Excellent,” said Davin in reply.  He didn’t need to be asked twice. 

Davin and Egan took positions on the grounds, standing with a wide space in between them.  The men that had been fighting previously moved to the side, seemingly afraid to get in the way. 

Davin watched curiously as Niahm told them to wait for a moment.  She ran off towards the gate and emerged a few minutes later with large group of people, from Swift River and Lemirre alike. 

Upon seeing what was about to happen, Quan of Lemirre shouted, “Give him hell, Davin.”  The people around him laughed loudly. 

“I’ll go first, shall I?” Davin said as he put down his pack and pulled out three orbs: light green, orange-red, and yellow-brown in color.  He stared at the
ir glassy appearance momentarily before throwing Egan the light green Wind Orb. 

By the time the orb reached Egan, Davin had already clapped his hands together, causing his arms to turn molten red.  Out of his fingers shot several quick bullets of lava-like substance.  Egan stood his ground, deflecting the bullets toward the ground with a slash of his arm.  The sharp wind coming from his slash knocked them away, and continued flying at Davin with blinding speed.  Davin watched it come and called a column of earth up to block it.  He raised it to his height.  The pillar shattered but no sharp wind ever reached him. 

He quickly raised two other columns to his left and right, sweating from the exertion.  Pulling them up into the air, he told the columns to surround Egan on three sides.  As they closed in around him, Egan compacted himself, pulling air from all sides into a tight space surrounding his body.  As the columns reached him, he flung his arms outward in a flourish.  The air exploded away from him, causing the columns to break apart in a flurry of dirt and pebbles. 

The spectators grew in numbers quickly once word spread about the Descendants dueling.  More and more people filtered out of the east gate to witness the display.  It quickly became more of an entertainment tool than a duel, with each of them trying to outdo the other in spectacle.  Either way, it was still practice, and by the time they were done chants abounded that wanted them to keep going.  The crowd was sad to be informed that Driocht orbs had a limit in their power, but Davin found himself pleased that could access all its power now.  It was a feat that he had previously yet to accomplish. 

He still found the process of Dispelling, or using Driocht, and Gathering interesting. Liam had mentioned that the Descendants accessed a certain region of their mind and merged with the dark matter.  The longer this connection remained the more dark matter was spent in the orb and released back into the world.  After all dark matter spent, the Driocht user would have to wait for the orb to call more of it back, similar to the way the Ancients Dispelled and Gathered Driocht power within themselves before the War of Purity. 

***

The next day was uneventful but hectic nonetheless.  Most people, Lemirre and Swift River citizens alike, were caught up in getting themselves in order for leaving in two days.  Davin saw people packing carts, pookas, and for those that could afford them, horses.  He, however, spent most of his day doing what he could to help the blacksmiths.  He pounded hot metal until his arms could take no more. 

“You’ve had some training with a smithy, haven’t you boy,” one round-faced blacksmith said, acknowledging Davin’s skills with the forge and hammer after a few hours had passed.  He smiled toothily and Davin nodded his answer. 

“I hope my son has the same drive when he’s older,” Alec, the blacksmith who specialized in armor more than weapons, added conversationally. 

“You should have seen me a few months ago.  You wouldn’t have felt the same.” 

Alec stepped away from the forge and focused on Davin intently.  “I’ve watched you since you’ve been here.  I’ve seen the way you work and how you care about this thing we’re doing.  You can’t learn greatness, young man.  I guarantee that’s always been there in you.”

What Alec said must be true, he admitted.  But he could never say it aloud and come off as humble.  This was something that one kept to himself and only let other people speak of it, for it was not his place to judge. 

Niahm came to see him towards the sundown that day.  Her warm smile seemed to radiate all the way down to the winter chill in his bones. 

“Will you and your friends come to a gathering tonight at the Horse’s Breath?  It is the largest pub in Swift River.” 

“I would love to.  What is it for?” Davin asked. 

“Our home town.  We wish to enjoy each other’s company once more in levity before the days to come.  Your friends are welcome, as well.”

“I will be there,” said Davin, firmly. 

As it happened, the others did decide to come. 

It was the most enjoyable time Davin had spent since the night at Liam the Scholar’s home.  The pub was loud and wild.  They ate, drank, and talked for the better part of the evening.  Druce continued to order more drinks for them, not wanting the party end.  As inhibitions continued to fall, Niahm found herself giving intoxicated kisses to various other men in the room; even Davin received a nice peck on the cheek. 

Egan, Druce, and many others sang many old drinking tunes at the top of their lungs.  Whenever it sounded like the fervor was dying down, a new song would begin to rousing cheers.  And once again by the end there would be quite a chorus in accompaniment.  The words of several poured emotion into Davin’s bones.  One in particular moved him greatly. 

O’ when winter’s breath stol’n mine life apart

I warm mine soul by the flame of a true bride

She tak’n the chill that frosts mine weary heart

If she e’re be gone mine blood freeze and I shall die

But tis not so, I am with her til I am old and gray

She hold me still with her bless’d heat that shall never fade

After the singing was done Davin told a couple of old jokes, which were each accepted with a round of laughter.  Seeing the smiling faces of many he’d known so long warmly accepting him, he felt a deep appreciation swell within.  It was as if the last several years hadn’t existed.  This only served to make the night even better for him. 

Only when Kayleigh proceeded to mimic Niahm’s random kissing did Davin’s good mood turn to a slight worry.  She made her rounds on random gentlemen, giving them each a peck on the lips.  She even stopped for some of the women also, which gained her some additional cheers.  He hoped she would miss him.  She didn’t.  When she reached him, he froze. 

“Your turn, Davin, isn’t it,” she said jovially.  Davin stood rigid, a difficult feat taking the alcohol into account. 

“Ummm, right,” was all he could say.  He really hoped that no one could see his awkwardness.  But before he could think about it anymore, she was upon him.  Her lips pressed against his for a second.  His body grew warm, and then it was over.  She had gone on.  Davin shook off the shock of what had just occurred and rejoined the party. 

Requests began to arise for storytellers.  When prompted for more tales from the drunken crowd, Davin turned to the others he had traveled with.  He knew nothing more he could say about their journeys. 

Druce spoke up and stumbled to the place Davin stood.  He put his hand on Davin’s shoulder.  “Let’s just leave my little friend alone, shall we,” he slurred, patting Davin on the head as if he were a cute puppy. 

Seemingly only half aware of what he was saying, he continued anyway.  “I have a tale that will surely cause your blood to boil.  And may inspire the fight in you as well, I think.” 

“Let’s have it, then,” said Logan,
one of bakers in Lemirre.  Davin had never had much interaction with Logan though.  The only time Davin ate bread products back home was when he spent dinners at Roland’s. 

Druce not only
told
the tale of his joining of the army and eventual exile, but also acted it out in very stirring fashion.  He enlisted the help of various citizens of Lemirre as well as Davin at times to perform against.  With each scene that went by, the crowd became more and more immersed in the telling. 

Druce was an incredible storyteller as well as actor.  Davin even noticed him, several times throughout, embellishing parts to allow for more suspense or to keep to the account interesting.  By the end, Davin felt a sharp exhale from the crowd, as if everyone listening had been holding their breath the entire time. 

A shout rang out from a voice Davin didn’t recognize, “That’s the best theater I’ve ever seen.”  The crowd cackled.  Druce took a dramatic bow as they cheered him. 

He raised his drink to toast them and the door to the pub slammed open, shaking the wooden walls and causing Druce to drop his drink in surprise. 

Governor Seamus stood framed in the doorway, his chest heaving as if he had been running a great distance.  The crowd was silenced by the door slam and the urgency of the governor’s appearance.  Not many had seen someone as esteemed as a governor in such an unkempt manner. 

“I have news,” he said to the crowd at large, catc
hing his breath at last.  “The king makes to send a fourth of his army southwest toward the port.  All ranking officers will be present, including
Dous
Captain for each regiment.  A couple of other regiments are on assignment looking for the Ancient’s document.  That is half the entire Grand Talamaraon Army removed from our concern.” 

Cheers and raised fists erupted.  The governor put up his hands to stop them.  The racket took the length of a minute to die back out.  He continued, “But we should still be cautious, it could be a trap.” 

From behind him Davin heard Egan say, “I agree.” 

Many looked back, bewildered.  No one seemed to want to believe that it could be a trick, but who could blame them.  The mass public needed to believe they could succeed; otherwise they would never have the courage to go along with such a bold move. 

Governor Conn Seamus raised his hands again as murmurs broke into the crowd.  “There is something else, my friends.  It is my understanding there are people of importance to you being held in the King’s Prison as we speak, Roland of Lemirre and Oeam of Tilea.  I have word the public executions are going to be held in a week’s time.”  There was a sharp intake of breath in the crowd at these words.  “We have lost several to Deverell and the prison as well for no reason.  I have spoken with my people.  They make to leave as the sun rises tomorrow.  What is your response?” 

Niahm stepped up beside Davin.  He turned and their eyes met, and he knew their reply. 

“The time has come for our move,” she said.  “We make to leave with the people Swift River.  Go prepare yourselves and get rest.  It will be a hard travel.  Be ready to go at dawn, we will linger not for you.” 

Davin watched Governor Seamus disappear quickly back through the door, having heard what he needed to. 

The pub emptied within a few short minutes.  Several people gave Niahm and Davin excited goodbyes as they went.  When the pub finally cleared, Niahm offered to walk with Davin and the others back to the inn. 

The group walked in a peaceful silence.  There wasn’t anything that needed to be said in this immediate moment and Davin relished the fact.  He was sure the others did too.