This story is contiued from The Silver Sword's 1st Hero: Swan Warrior Part 1.
For the Silver Sword's background and the earlier parts of the saga please refer to the posts titled, Forging and The Frist Unworthy.
Swan Warrior Part 2
Let the praise of God be on their lips and a two-edged sword in their hand, to deal out vengeance to the nations and punishment on all the peoples.
Psalm 149: 6-7
Norin rode through the forest toward the burning village faster than was truly safe. He reached the camp in a few short minutes, slowing his horse a little to take in the chaotic scene. Most of the huts were on fire; the distinct odor of smoke filled his nostrils and clogged the air. Even as he watched, a Rovinien soldier tossed a torch onto the roof of a previously undamaged structure. Members of the clan ran in every direction, screaming and trying to avoid the soldiers’ blades and arrows. Raising the Silver Sword with a look of determination, Norin charged the nearest group of soldiers. The sword flashed like a spark of white fire. Soldiers fell to the ground stained with blood, or scattered, fleeing Norin’s wrath. Seeing the fear Norin inspired in their enemies, many of Oathswine’s disheartened warriors rallied around him and together they pushed the soldiers toward the edge of camp.
A high pitched scream drew Norin’s attention. He raced in the direction of the sound with the warriors struggling to keep up. Near the charred center of the campsite, he spotted a soldier dragging Elena as she struggled to free herself. Norin spurred his horse forward. The soldier turned and had only enough time to push Elena aside and raise his sword before Norin beheaded him. Elena gasped and covered her mouth as the body fell. Norin pulled to a stop beside her and asked, “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head.
Norin leaned down and held out his left hand. Elena took it and Norin swung her onto the horse behind him.
“We have to find my father!” said Elena. “Roviniens were closing in on him near our hut last I saw.”
“We must protect the chieftain.” panted one of the warriors as he caught up with Norin once more.
Norin nodded and spurred his horse toward the chieftain’s hut, from which flames leapt. Through the billowing smoke a group of warriors was visible, ringed in by Rovinien soldiers. With an ecstatic battle cry the warriors following Norin surged forward. Norin paused a moment to let Elena slip to the ground, then joined the fray. The sight of Norin and his warriors charging to their rescue gave the warriors protecting Oathswine the strength they needed to break free of encircling enemies. Soon the Roviniens were overwhelmed and forced to retreat.
When the last of the soldiers were gone, Norin dismounted and ran to Oathswine’s side. The chieftain was bleeding from several wounds but none looked serious enough to be life threatening. As Norin stopped in front of him, Oathswine’s eyes lit up with recognition.
“Who are you, my appointed savior?” he asked. “You rescue first my daughter and now my clan.” His eyes clouded suddenly and he cried, “Elena! They took her!”
“No, Father, I’m here!” yelled Elena running to his side. She gestured at Norin. “He saved me again.”
Oathswine’s eyes widened and he turned back to Norin.
“It seems I owe the safety of everything I hold dear to you,” he said. “From now on you will always be welcomed in my clan.”
“Thank you, my lord,” said Norin.
“All hail Norin, savior of our clan!” cried a warrior.
The warriors broke into cheers. Norin stared at them with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment.
Once the cheering stopped, Oathswine commanded, “Put out those fires and salvage what supplies you can. We will move our camp before more soldiers come.”
Later, as sunset cast its colors like magic across the world, Norin was sure he saw the fairy queen watching him from beneath the tangled branches. She caught his eye, gave a satisfied smile and bowed her head to him. He had proven himself worthy of the Silver Sword.
***
One frosty fall day, Elena sought out Norin where he camped on the edge of Oathswine’s village. Norin heard her calling and met her outside his hut.
“Norin, I have terrible news,” Elena said. “My father’s scouts reported that Rovinien soldiers are raiding the herds of Chieftains Keth and Erik. My father refuses to help them saying that the misfortunes of other clans are none of his business. I know you care about what happens to the clans. You could put an end to the soldiers’ raids.”
“Where are they camped?” Norin asked with the familiar battle gleam in his eyes.
“They are on the plains east of my clan. You should not have any trouble finding them.”
Norin squeezed Elena’s hand then moved inside his hut to gather his gear.
As Elena predicted, it was easy to find the camps of Erik and Keth’s people, whose tents sprawled across the hills. Cows, sheep and horses dotted the fields. In a tiny hollow nestled between the two clans, Norin dismounted and removed the equipment from his horse’s back. He grabbed a bow off the saddle, strung it and took a short while to make preparations should raiders come.
Just before sunset, a group of Rovinien riders crested a nearby hill and scattered to charge the herd from several directions. Norin heard them coming and moved out of the hollow, carrying a roughly carved shield covered in grass to camouflage it. As the soldiers approached the animals, Norin propped up the shield in front of him and shot from its cover. The Roviniens slowed their horses and scanned the landscape wildly, attempting to see the archer. Norin crawled through the tall grass until he was several feet from his last position, set up the shield again and fired. As he repeated this maneuver a few of Chieftain Keth’s warriors appeared on the hill behind him. Once they took in the scene below they stopped to watch in amusement.
Norin moved to the center of the herd and stirred up the animals. He whistled and his own horse moved toward him. He dropped the shield, slung his bow over his shoulder, leapt onto his horse’s back, and drew the Silver Sword. Bending low over the horse’s neck, Norin moved in with the rest of the herd. He swung at the frightened soldiers as he passed them, leaving a gash on one man’s arm. When the solider turned to retaliate, Norin ducked and moved into the middle of the herd. Just then the warriors on the hill gave a loud battle cry and charged down the hillside. The terrified Roviniens turned and fled. The warriors crowded around Norin praising him for the feats they had witnessed and insisting he meet their chieftain.
At a large fire pit the group approached a broad shouldered man with a sandy beard and twinkling eyes who the warriors hailed as Chieftain Keth. They related the scene they had witnessed and introduced Norin.
“That is the most heroic tale I’ve heard, especially since you were defending the livestock of another clan,” said Keth. “With that kind of courage I’m sure you have a story or two to tell.”
“I’m sure they are nothing compared to your stories,” Norin replied.
Keth laughed.
Norin remained with Keth’s clan that night, talking and laughing before finally drifting off to sleep beside the fire.
The next morning Norin breakfasted with Keth’s warriors before riding through the hollow and onto the hills beyond it with the chieftain. As they came out of the hollow they saw Rovinien soldiers moving in on Chieftain Erik’s herds. Even as Norin slowed his horse to get a better look, a group of clansmen rode out from the camp to face them.
“It seems Chieftain Erik has chosen to oppose the Roviniens,” Keth observed.
“I don’t like the looks of this,” said Norin. He drew the Silver Sword and announced, “I’m going to help him.”
Keth’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“I cannot stand by and let Rovinien wipe out the clans of this territory,” Norin explained. “I have to help those I can.”
“Perhaps you are right,” said Keth. “I will gather my warriors and we will go to Chieftain Erik’s aid.”
“Your warriors will no doubt be welcome,” Norin replied, “but with all due respect I cannot wait for them while clansmen are being killed.”
Keth sighed and nodded. “Do as you must. I will return once I muster my forces. I pray I will meet you again in battle.”
Norin raised his sword and saluted as Keth galloped in the direction of his camp.
With the battle cry of, “Hail Chieftain Erik!” Norin charged into the midst of the Rovinien soldiers, temporarily halting their advance as they wheeled to face him.
The dark haired chieftain commanding the clansmen looked shocked as Norin joined his warriors. As his enemies fell back in fright, however, Erik saluted Norin to show his acceptance of the hero. Norin returned the gesture just as the Roviniens moved to attack again.
Norin called to the warriors, “Help me protect the chieftain!”
The men fanned out, circling Erik defensively. The soldiers charged forward only to be stopped and held in place by Norin and the warriors newly inspired by his passion. The armies struggled for several long minutes until a cry rang out on the hills and Chieftain Keth rode forward followed by his warriors. Norin gave a joyful shout and thrust his sword into the air. A ray of sunlight lit it up like a beacon. Before Keth could reach Erik, a few Roviniens rode out to intercept him and hold his warriors in place. The remainder of the Rovinien force split, half to circle behind Erik while the rest surged forward from the front.
“Cut them off!” Erik cried gesturing at the Roviniens with his sword.
Several warriors moved to follow his command. Norin moved back and forth in front of the chieftain, the ferocity of his attack making it impossible for any of the soldiers to reach Erik. The twang of a string releasing an arrow rang over the sounds of battle. Norin gave a terrified shout and jerked his horse around as he realized where the Rovinien archer had been aiming. The shaft pierced Chieftain Erik through his throat. The warriors watched in horror as he toppled backward off his horse.
The Roviniens pressed their attack, pushing the warriors back. With an enraged howl, Norin leapt from his horse’s back and positioned himself protectively over the fallen chieftain. The Roviniens gained ground until only a small group of warriors remained, forming a ring around Erik’s body. Keth and his warriors slowly fought their way past the Roviniens toward the stranded warriors. Norin was able to fend off most of the blows to himself but with each swing of his sword he felt a little more energy slip from his body. It was only a matter of time before the soldiers wore him down. He wondered if he would last until Keth’s warriors reached him.
Norin’s opponent gave him a long cut below his cheekbone and down his neck and Norin cried out in pain. As he stabbed the soldier in return, a mighty war cry rang over the other sounds of battle. Norin craned his neck until he could just make out riders approaching from the west, the sun reflecting off their weapons. Silently he prayed they weren’t reinforcements for Rovinien. He thanked the Lord of Light when the new warriors charged the Roviniens and he recognized Chieftain Oathswine at their head.
At the sound of Oathswine’s cry, the warriors with Norin found a last reserve of strength, pushing forward to reach the newcomers. Keth renewed his attack, finally gaining ground as chaos broke the Rovinien ranks.
As the soldiers scattered, Norin called to Oathswine, “Chieftain Erik is dead! They’re slaughtering us!”
Oathswine scowled as he replied, “We should retreat before the Roviniens regroup and make a second attack.”
“Help me lift Erik’s body,” Norin instructed. “I won’t leave him here to be desecrated.”
Oathswine nodded and a group of his warriors dismounted and moved to help Norin.
Oathswine and Keth barked orders and their warriors surrounded the group carrying Erik. Once they reached the perimeter of the tents Keth rode ahead crying, “Your chieftain has fallen! Break camp before the soldiers return! My warriors and those of Chieftain Oathswine will escort you to safety.”
There was a flurry of activity as clan members grabbed their possessions. Some mounted horses and all moved to join Oathswine and Keth’s warriors. When Norin and the others baring Erik’s body reached the campsite, several people broke away from the main group to gather around the chieftain. A large woman pushed past the others and let out a piercing wail at the sight of Erik’s bloody corpse. She continued wailing as her fellow clan members lifted Erik and rested his body in a wagon. A man put his arm around her and ushered her away saying, “We have to move, Lady Utaria. The time will come to morn your husband, but right now you have to get your clan to safety.”
Norin’s face tightened with pain at the sight of Erik’s wife. He found his horse and forced himself onto its back. With a weary twitch of the reins he moved his animal his into step with the horses of the other warriors and followed Chieftains Oathswine and Keth across the plains.
***
Several hours later and many miles to the south, a camp formed comprised of Keth, Oathswine, and Utaria’s people. At Oathswine and Keth’s orders, warriors guarded the perimeter of this large campsite. Those wounded from the battle were escorted into tents where the women tended to them. Elena rushed Norin’s to side as soon as he stumbled off his horse’s back and hurried him into a nearby tent.
Beneath the canvas Norin lay on a cot while Elena bent over him, cleaning the cut on his neck. Norin squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out a terrible images.
“I failed him,” he whispered.
“Who?” asked Elena sounding distracted.
“Chieftain Erik,” Norin replied opening his eyes. “I fought so hard for him but in the end it didn’t matter. The moment he needed me the most I wasn’t fast enough and it cost a clan their leader. I failed them.”
Elena paused in her work and said, “No one blames you for Chieftain Erik’s death. You did everything you could for him. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“How can I call myself the hero of the clans if I let their chieftains die?
Elena leaned over and pressing a wet rag to his wound.
Norin hissed in pain.
Elena’s touch lightened as she replied, “Just before I met you I thought I saw a black swan fly into the forest. I’ve heard that a black swan is a sign of a great change which upsets the usual order of things. You are that great change, Norin. You’ve united three warring clans, making them allies against Rovinien. I’ve never hear of another warrior who’s done anything like you.”
As Elena fastened a bandage around his neck, Norin said, “Yet despite all of that I couldn’t save Chieftain Erik.”
He closed his eyes again and tears slipped out of their corners. Elena ran a gentle finger over his cheek, brushing the tears off it.
“As hard as it is,” she said, “you have to accept that there was nothing you could do. Try to sleep.”
Norin gave a slight nod.
***
At dawn the three clans formed a procession and carried Chieftain Erik’s body to a place on the edge of camp. The procession was led by Utaria and a small boy who looked about five years old. The boy resembled Erik. It was clear he was his son. Erik’s body was placed in a shallow hole and his wife and son arranged his weapons around him. Several people stepped forward and placed gifts beside him as a sign of respect. As Erik’s warriors formed a mound around him, clan members sang songs of his exploits and chanted prayers for his soul to the Lord of Light.
Norin stood at a distance in silence, his expression pained. Elena glanced over her shoulder at him then moved beside him and took his hand. Norin bowed his head and took a ragged breath before moving closer to Elena. They stood like that until the funeral was over and most the clan members had given Utaria their condolences. As a group of people stepped aside, Norin released Elena’s hand and approached Utaria.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
Utaria lifted her reddened eyes to meet his and replied, “I heard how nobly you fought for my husband. For that I thank you. I know if anyone can bring justice upon those murdering Roviniens it is you.”
“What will become of your clan?” Norin asked.
“I will lead them until my son is old enough to take his father’s place,” Utaria answered. “Both Oathswine and Keth have offered me protection. Our clans will camp together. We will be much safer that way.”
“That is good.”
“Will you join me at the feast in my husband’s honor?”
“Of course,” said Norin. He beckoned to Elena who came forward and walked beside him into camp.
***
The feast was ended and the night well on its way to midnight when a disturbance woke Norin. Quickly pulling on his clothes and strapping the Silver Sword to his belt, he ran to the edge of camp to investigate. Beyond the line of tents the moonlight fell on a small, unshaven, ragged man struggling and pleading with two of the guards.
“Are you trying to wake the camp?” Norin demanded. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“We found him slinking around trying to steal our food,” said one of the guards tugging on the man’s shirt.
“I meant no harm!” cried the man.
“Explain yourself,” Norin commanded the stranger, crossing his arms as he spoke.
“First tell me whose camp this is,” pleaded the man.
“It is the joint camp of chieftains Oathswine, Keth and the Lady Utaria.”
“Clansmen. Good,” the man muttered. Then meeting Norin’s eyes he said, “Sardi slavers captured my chieftain and most of my clan. The few of us who escaped are living in hiding. I only wished to bring them some food. I am one of four runners sent in each direction to seek the help and protection of Chieftain Tayad.”
Story continued in Swan Warrior Part 3.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
ABNA Finals
The finalists for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award have been announced! For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about I'll just say that my YA fantasy novel, The Jericho Effect, was a Quarterfinalist in this contest and it is a really fun interactive competition for new writers. At this final round any customer of Amazon.com can vote for the 2 winners, one YA book and one adult book. I encourage everyone to go to the contest page, read the finalists' excerpts (first few chapters of their books) and vote for the winners. All the writers in this contest are really good and deserve to win the grand prize of publication.
There are 6 finalists, 3 YA books and 3 adult books. The finalists and their book titles are:
Adult fiction:
1. Jennifer Handford: Fortune Cookies
2. Patricia McArdle: Farishta
3. Johnny Shaw: Dove Season
Young Adult (YA) fiction:
1. Amy Ackley: Sign Language
2. Alex Airdale: Service of the Crown
3. Alison Stewart: Days Like This
I promise that if you choose to read the excerpts, you're in for a treat!
There are 6 finalists, 3 YA books and 3 adult books. The finalists and their book titles are:
Adult fiction:
1. Jennifer Handford: Fortune Cookies
2. Patricia McArdle: Farishta
3. Johnny Shaw: Dove Season
Young Adult (YA) fiction:
1. Amy Ackley: Sign Language
2. Alex Airdale: Service of the Crown
3. Alison Stewart: Days Like This
I promise that if you choose to read the excerpts, you're in for a treat!
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Agent contest
Well, I'm once again entering my work in writing contests. This time I found an agent's contest with the prize of a 10 page critique. This is just one of the many contests I plan on entering this year. I'll post updates on other contests as I go along.
Friday, May 14, 2010
The Silver Sword's 1st Hero: Swan Warrior Part 1
Please refer to Forging and the 1st Unworthy for the Silver Sword's background.
Swan Warrior Part 1:
Let the praise of God be on their lips and a two-edged sword in their hand, to deal out vengeance to the nations and punishment on all the peoples.
Psalm 149: 6-7
One spring about 200 years after the Silver Sword was hidden with the fairies, the thunder of hoof beats cut through the calm of a morning in a camp on the Irowasan midlands. A young warrior named Norin raised his light brown eyes in time to see a group of mounted Rovinien soldiers ride for the far huts and light them on fire.
Norin had recently moved up from the south with his clan, the Wind Followers. They made their camp on the eastern edge of Fairy Wood where they hoped to escape the cruel warriors of a great empire named Sardi which had risen in the south at about the same time the Rovinien kingdom rose to power in the north. The Wind Followers were one of many clans trapped between these two mighty kingdoms in an area the two countries were fighting over to expand their realms. Norin sounded the alarm. Then grabbing a sword, he swung himself onto his horse and rushed to the join the other warriors of the Wind Clan as they moved to defend their homes.
In the forest the fairies noticed a black swan flying over the tree tops and took it as a sign that a great change was coming. After the passing of the swan, smoke rose from huts burning at the edge of the woods. Screams and the ring of weapons broke the woodland’s calm. Just as the fairies flew to investigate, Norin’s horse tore his way through the bushes. Norin slipped from the animal’s back and fell, panting, on a patch of moss and dry leaves. He pressed a hand against his right side, which was covered in blood.
“Rovinien soldiers are killing my clan!” he gasped at the fairies in nearby branches. “Save my people, please!”
He gritted his teeth as pain shot through him, then collapsed on the forest floor. Several fairies worked together to carry him to a hut which belonged to an elvin healer. Others calmed his spooked horse while the rest flew to investigate the attack.
Later as Norin lay bandaged in the healer’s hut, several fairies came baring the news he most dreaded.
“We were too late. There was nothing we could do.”
Despair crossed his face and he turned away from them. The pain in his heart was sharper and more severe than that in his side.
***
When he recovered from his injuries, Norin walked to the place where the ground was covered in ash and the blackened remains of plants. It was all that remained of his clan’s campsite. He stood for a minute in the shadow of a tree on the edge of the burned space, staring wide eyed at the marks of destruction around him as his heart filled with grief and rage.
At last he walked forward, stopping to reverently touch a charred beam from a hut. He straightened and stood with his arms crossed over his chest. A soft breeze came up, playing with locks of his auburn hair.
“There is nothing left,” he whispered. “I may be the last living member of my clan free of the Roviniens.” Then raising his voice he cried to woods, “Too many clans have been wiped out by Sardi and Rovinien. How many more people will they kill? How many more clans will vanish? I swear to the Lord of Light who spared me that I will someday protect other clans from destruction.”
A young fairy boy named Leaf heard his words and spread them through Fairy Wood. When the elves heard what Norin had promised, they chose to train him in their secret methods of fighting (which no human had learned before him) in order to determine if he could really become the protector of the clans. As autumn painted the woods with its colors, the fairy queen took an interest in Norin and his training and often stopped to watch him sparring with the elves.
One day the queen pulled one of the elves aside and said, “When Norin finishes his exercises for the day, tell him to meet me in the dancing meadow.”
When Norin arrived several hours later, the queen glided to the center of the meadow where she stood waiting for him. Norin approached her and bowed. The queen touched him lightly on the shoulder, removing her hand once he straitened.
“I have heard a lot about you Norin,” said the queen in her soft warm voice. “You have caused quite a stir in my kingdom. I hear you wish to become the protector of the clans.”
“I only wish to give them a chance for a brighter future, my lady,” Norin replied.
The queen raised a pale blond eyebrow as she said, “You are brave and determined. I can see that you will become as great a warrior as this land has ever seen. I truly believe that you will do all the things you say you will.” She lifted a thin finger to her lips and cocked her head, examining him thoughtfully. “I have a mission for you, if you are willing to accept it.”
“Just tell me what you wish me to do.”
“Lately soldiers from Rovinien have been amusing themselves by hunting my unicorn herds. They collect the horns for their power against poison. I want you to put an end to these unicorn hunts as they reduce the numbers of the herds at too fast a rate.”
Norin’s eyes gleamed as he answered, “As you wish, my lady.”
***
A herd of unicorns stampeded through the tangled woods ahead of the six Rovinien soldiers pursuing them. An archer near the front of the group raised his bow and fired a shot at the unicorns. Suddenly a rich brown horse jumped between the hunters and their quarry. From the back of his horse, Norin raised his sword and cut the arrow in midair before pulling to a stop in front of the lead rider causing the soldier to rein in his own animal. The soldiers behind him tried to do the same, and there was confusion for a minute as the horses collided. With some difficultly the riders spread out again. The leader turned toward Norin with a furious glare.
“Get out of the way, you fool!” he shouted.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Norin replied.
The soldier looked taken aback, but his surprise quickly changed to anger.
“Who do you think you are?” he demanded. “Do you know that I am a knight of Rovinien? I have been to the king’s own court.”
Norin snorted and replied with a smirk, “And I am the protector of the innocent you kill, appointed by the Fairy Queen to tell you and your king to remain in your own kingdom.”
The knight’s eyes flashed. “I will cut out your tongue for such insolence!” he declared.
The knight backed his animal up a few paces then charged. Norin held his horse in place until the knight’s animal was a few feet from him, then leaned forward and slashed its chest. With a cry of pain the horse bucked, throwing his rider to the ground before collapsing. While the knight lay winded by the fall, the other soldiers closed in to form circle around Norin. A fire burned in Norin’s eyes as he swung his sword around himself, succeeding in keeping them at a distance. The knight pulled himself to his feet just as another soldier aimed a blow at Norin’s head. Seeing Norin thus distracted, the knight flung himself at Norin, knocking him off his horse’s back. Norin’s horse spooked and ran from the stop disappearing into the woods. The knight and Norin scrambled on the ground for a minute until Norin succeeded in slashing the knight’s arm, leaving a deep gash. As the knight cursed, two more soldiers dismounted to help their comrade. Three more remained mounted and moved their horses to cut off Norin’s escape. They all closed in at once, forcing Norin to move between them, fending them off with quick smooth motions while also dodging horse legs. Just as Norin felt his body starting to wear down, a noise like thunder caught their attention and interrupted the fight. A tide of majestic beasts charged with horns pointed at the confused soldiers. Norin ducked under the arms of an enemy and rolled into the underbrush as the unicorn herd swept the terrified Roviniens into the woods. Norin stood panting for a minute before wiping his sword on the grass and sheathing it.
As he looked for his horse, he felt grateful that the unicorns finally understood the he was protecting them and had decided to turn against the hunters. At last Norin found his horse, mounted it and rode into the depths of the forest.
***
Several days later, when Norin was once more patrolling for unicorn hunters, he heard sobbing. Turning his horse in the direction of the noise, he came upon a maiden in a soiled dress kneeling in the center of the clearing. Her wild eyes searched the woods. Tear tracks stained her cheeks and strands of blond hair clung to her sweaty forehead. Norin’s horse pricked his ears and the next minute a golden-brown unicorn came into view. The majestic beast walked straight to the girl, sniffed her, then lay down on the grass beside her. A sick dread washed over Norin as realized the soldiers were using the girl to bait the unicorn. With a slow, deliberate motion he drew his sword and waited; eyes and ears straining for any sign of danger.
The girl gave a gasping sob, glanced at the woods around her, then put her hands on the unicorn’s face and whispered, “Get out of here while you still can.”
There was a slight movement to the right of the meadow. Norin’s head snapped in that direction. The girl also noticed it for she leapt to her feet shouting, “Get out of here! Go! You never should have come!”
The unicorn stood but remained in the meadow, seeming reluctant to leave. Norin spurred his horse forward just as the first hunter broke from the cover of the trees. The soldier leaned forward on his horse’s neck and slapped the girl hard across her face, causing her to fall in the grass with a small cry. The unicorn pressed his ears against his head and snorted in fear as the hunters moved to surround him. Norin slammed his horse into the horse of the first soldier. The animal spooked, throwing his rider. The unicorn reared then bolted as a gap appeared between the Rovinien soldiers. One of the soldiers cursed and raised a bow but Norin swung around in time to slice the bow in half. Norin moved between the other hunters slashing at them and knocking them off their horses. Then, seeing the young woman still sitting at the edge of the meadow, petrified with fear he shouted, “Run!”
As if his voice had broken a spell she was under, the girl stood and ran up a nearby hill as fast as her legs would carry her. By this time the soldiers recovered and many remounted their horses. Several broke away from the main group and spurred their mounts in the direction of the fleeing girl. Norin struggled with the others until he broke out of their ranks. He sped past the soldiers, overtook the young woman and swung her onto the horse in front of him.
An arrow whizzed past Norin’s ear. He ducked, throwing a protective arm around the girl in front of him. Suddenly an arrow sailed through the air in front of Norin and struck one of the soldiers in the chest. He the ground with a loud “thump” while his horse turned and ran back the way it had come. Norin pulled his own horse to a stop as more arrows came from the trees, showering the Roviniens. Unable to identify where the shots were coming from, the soldiers turned and retreated. Norin gazed after them in amazement then lifted his reins intending to ride in the opposite direction.
Just then a sharp voice called, “Stay where you are, come no closer!”
A group of fully armed warriors broke from the cover of the trees and approached to surround Norin, who watched them warily without moving. Seeing Norin ringed in by the warriors, the girl came out of her shock and cried, “Hold your fire. This man saved me from the soldiers.”
The warriors lowered their weapons into less threatening positions.
“You must take him to my father,” the girl added, sliding off the back of the horse.
One of the warriors stepped forward to assist her while another ordered Norin to dismount and hand over his weapons. Norin frowned, then looked to the girl who nodded at him. With a sigh he dismounted and passed his sword and a few other small weapons to the man who had spoken. Another man took hold of his horse’s reins.
They moved into the forest where they came to a village of rough huts. Several people ran up to the girl praising the Lord of Light that she was safe before looking with curiosity at Norin as he passed surrounded by their warriors. At last they came to a long hut which was larger than the others. The girl stepped inside and the warriors pushed Norin in after her. The floor of the hut was covered in soft furs, its beams covered in carvings depicting the clan’s history. The grey bearded chieftain sat in the center of the long hut on a high backed wooden chair. The girl ran to him and he stepped forward to meet her.
“Chieftain Oathswine,” said one of the warriors. “When we went to search for Lady Elena as you ordered we found this man riding through the woods ahead of a group of Rovinien soldiers with your daughter on the front of his saddle.”
He gestured at Norin.
“He rescued me from them, father,” said Elena.
Chieftain Oathswine scrutinized Norin before asking, “Who are you and what are you doing in these parts?”
“My name is Norin and I am a survivor of the Wind Clan. I have been living in this forest since my clan was attacked by Rovinien nearly a year ago.”
“Indeed?” Oathswine raised an eyebrow. “I have heard of the destruction of the Wind Clan. How did you manage to escape the Roviniens?”
“I was wounded as I defended the clan with the others. The wound was bad enough that I couldn’t continue fighting. I knew the soldiers would kill me if I stayed, so I fled into the forest. I rode until the pain became too much. Then I collapsed on the forest floor. I remained in the woods, at first regaining my strength, and later attacking the Roviniens from their cover.”
“If you were so badly wounded how is it you recovered?”
“I suppose the magic of the forest saved me,” Norin replied.
It was clear this answer didn’t satisfy the chieftain’s curiosity.
Oathswine frowned and asked, “Why did you not find another clan to join when you recovered?”
“I had everything I needed here in the forest,” Norin replied. “I didn’t need the security of another clan and there were plenty of opportunities to fight Roviniens here.”
Oathswine’s frown deepened and his forehead creased with confusion. At last he said, “I thank you for saving my daughter. I insist you stay with my clan for a time so that I may show you my gratitude.”
Elena’s eyebrows rose in surprise. She opened her mouth to say something but was cut off as Oathswine signaled two warriors to accompany Norin out of the hut. Norin bowed his head then exited.
Norin and two warriors joined a group seated around a campfire. They remained at the fireside for some time until the warriors became distracted by an old man telling stories. A shadow flickered at the very edge of the firelight, catching Norin’s attention. He turned to see Elena, washed and in a fresh dress, beckoning him to her. Without a word Norin stood and slipped into the blanketing darkness. Elena led him to the very edge of camp, where his horse was tied, before she spoke.
“I wanted to warn you,” she said with a nervous glance at the huts silhouetted by firelight. “My father and many members of the camp don’t trust you. They think you are lying about living in the woods and that you might be a spy for Rovinien or Sardi. I fear they may try to harm you.”
“What makes you disagree with the others?” asked Norin.
“If you were a spy you wouldn’t have cared what became of me. I brought your weapons. They’re strapped to your horse’s saddle. Leave quickly before they notice.”
Norin took Elena’s hand and said sincerely, “Thank you, my lady.”
Elena squeezed his hand before releasing it.
“Hurry!” she cried. “They will come looking for you any minute.”
Norin untied his horse then swung himself into the saddle and, with a parting salute to Elena, rode into the dark forest.
***
The next morning the fairy queen once again summoned Norin to the dancing meadow. She was already waiting there when he arrived.
“You have done well. I heard of your battles to protect the unicorns and save Chieftain Oathswine’s daughter,” said the queen. “You have proven yourself a mighty hero. For this reason I have a gift for you, something which will help you accomplish your goals.”
She snapped her fingers and a few pixies flew out of the cover of the trees carrying a sheathed broadsword. With a curious glance at the queen, Norin took the sword from the pixies, drew it from its sheath and held it out in front of him to better examine it. The sword gleamed white as the sun reflected off a strange twisting pattern on the hilt and cross guard.
“The dwarves forged the Silver Sword long ago,” said the fairy queen, “They gave it to us for safe keeping until a worthy hero should arise to take it.”
A smile crossed Norin’s face and he lifted the Silver Sword to salute with it.
“Thank you. I will make sure it serves its purpose well.”
The queen gave him a wise sad smile and said, “There is one last task you must accomplish to prove you are worthy to wield this sword.”
“What task is that, my lady?”
“You must save Oathswine’s clan from being destroyed by the Roviniens.”
She gestured at a spot behind Norin where a column of smoke rose above the trees.
“That is not going to happen!” Norin shouted.
He strapped the sheath to his belt as he dashed through the forest to find his horse.
Story continued in Swan Warrior Part 2.
Swan Warrior Part 1:
Let the praise of God be on their lips and a two-edged sword in their hand, to deal out vengeance to the nations and punishment on all the peoples.
Psalm 149: 6-7
One spring about 200 years after the Silver Sword was hidden with the fairies, the thunder of hoof beats cut through the calm of a morning in a camp on the Irowasan midlands. A young warrior named Norin raised his light brown eyes in time to see a group of mounted Rovinien soldiers ride for the far huts and light them on fire.
Norin had recently moved up from the south with his clan, the Wind Followers. They made their camp on the eastern edge of Fairy Wood where they hoped to escape the cruel warriors of a great empire named Sardi which had risen in the south at about the same time the Rovinien kingdom rose to power in the north. The Wind Followers were one of many clans trapped between these two mighty kingdoms in an area the two countries were fighting over to expand their realms. Norin sounded the alarm. Then grabbing a sword, he swung himself onto his horse and rushed to the join the other warriors of the Wind Clan as they moved to defend their homes.
In the forest the fairies noticed a black swan flying over the tree tops and took it as a sign that a great change was coming. After the passing of the swan, smoke rose from huts burning at the edge of the woods. Screams and the ring of weapons broke the woodland’s calm. Just as the fairies flew to investigate, Norin’s horse tore his way through the bushes. Norin slipped from the animal’s back and fell, panting, on a patch of moss and dry leaves. He pressed a hand against his right side, which was covered in blood.
“Rovinien soldiers are killing my clan!” he gasped at the fairies in nearby branches. “Save my people, please!”
He gritted his teeth as pain shot through him, then collapsed on the forest floor. Several fairies worked together to carry him to a hut which belonged to an elvin healer. Others calmed his spooked horse while the rest flew to investigate the attack.
Later as Norin lay bandaged in the healer’s hut, several fairies came baring the news he most dreaded.
“We were too late. There was nothing we could do.”
Despair crossed his face and he turned away from them. The pain in his heart was sharper and more severe than that in his side.
***
When he recovered from his injuries, Norin walked to the place where the ground was covered in ash and the blackened remains of plants. It was all that remained of his clan’s campsite. He stood for a minute in the shadow of a tree on the edge of the burned space, staring wide eyed at the marks of destruction around him as his heart filled with grief and rage.
At last he walked forward, stopping to reverently touch a charred beam from a hut. He straightened and stood with his arms crossed over his chest. A soft breeze came up, playing with locks of his auburn hair.
“There is nothing left,” he whispered. “I may be the last living member of my clan free of the Roviniens.” Then raising his voice he cried to woods, “Too many clans have been wiped out by Sardi and Rovinien. How many more people will they kill? How many more clans will vanish? I swear to the Lord of Light who spared me that I will someday protect other clans from destruction.”
A young fairy boy named Leaf heard his words and spread them through Fairy Wood. When the elves heard what Norin had promised, they chose to train him in their secret methods of fighting (which no human had learned before him) in order to determine if he could really become the protector of the clans. As autumn painted the woods with its colors, the fairy queen took an interest in Norin and his training and often stopped to watch him sparring with the elves.
One day the queen pulled one of the elves aside and said, “When Norin finishes his exercises for the day, tell him to meet me in the dancing meadow.”
When Norin arrived several hours later, the queen glided to the center of the meadow where she stood waiting for him. Norin approached her and bowed. The queen touched him lightly on the shoulder, removing her hand once he straitened.
“I have heard a lot about you Norin,” said the queen in her soft warm voice. “You have caused quite a stir in my kingdom. I hear you wish to become the protector of the clans.”
“I only wish to give them a chance for a brighter future, my lady,” Norin replied.
The queen raised a pale blond eyebrow as she said, “You are brave and determined. I can see that you will become as great a warrior as this land has ever seen. I truly believe that you will do all the things you say you will.” She lifted a thin finger to her lips and cocked her head, examining him thoughtfully. “I have a mission for you, if you are willing to accept it.”
“Just tell me what you wish me to do.”
“Lately soldiers from Rovinien have been amusing themselves by hunting my unicorn herds. They collect the horns for their power against poison. I want you to put an end to these unicorn hunts as they reduce the numbers of the herds at too fast a rate.”
Norin’s eyes gleamed as he answered, “As you wish, my lady.”
***
A herd of unicorns stampeded through the tangled woods ahead of the six Rovinien soldiers pursuing them. An archer near the front of the group raised his bow and fired a shot at the unicorns. Suddenly a rich brown horse jumped between the hunters and their quarry. From the back of his horse, Norin raised his sword and cut the arrow in midair before pulling to a stop in front of the lead rider causing the soldier to rein in his own animal. The soldiers behind him tried to do the same, and there was confusion for a minute as the horses collided. With some difficultly the riders spread out again. The leader turned toward Norin with a furious glare.
“Get out of the way, you fool!” he shouted.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Norin replied.
The soldier looked taken aback, but his surprise quickly changed to anger.
“Who do you think you are?” he demanded. “Do you know that I am a knight of Rovinien? I have been to the king’s own court.”
Norin snorted and replied with a smirk, “And I am the protector of the innocent you kill, appointed by the Fairy Queen to tell you and your king to remain in your own kingdom.”
The knight’s eyes flashed. “I will cut out your tongue for such insolence!” he declared.
The knight backed his animal up a few paces then charged. Norin held his horse in place until the knight’s animal was a few feet from him, then leaned forward and slashed its chest. With a cry of pain the horse bucked, throwing his rider to the ground before collapsing. While the knight lay winded by the fall, the other soldiers closed in to form circle around Norin. A fire burned in Norin’s eyes as he swung his sword around himself, succeeding in keeping them at a distance. The knight pulled himself to his feet just as another soldier aimed a blow at Norin’s head. Seeing Norin thus distracted, the knight flung himself at Norin, knocking him off his horse’s back. Norin’s horse spooked and ran from the stop disappearing into the woods. The knight and Norin scrambled on the ground for a minute until Norin succeeded in slashing the knight’s arm, leaving a deep gash. As the knight cursed, two more soldiers dismounted to help their comrade. Three more remained mounted and moved their horses to cut off Norin’s escape. They all closed in at once, forcing Norin to move between them, fending them off with quick smooth motions while also dodging horse legs. Just as Norin felt his body starting to wear down, a noise like thunder caught their attention and interrupted the fight. A tide of majestic beasts charged with horns pointed at the confused soldiers. Norin ducked under the arms of an enemy and rolled into the underbrush as the unicorn herd swept the terrified Roviniens into the woods. Norin stood panting for a minute before wiping his sword on the grass and sheathing it.
As he looked for his horse, he felt grateful that the unicorns finally understood the he was protecting them and had decided to turn against the hunters. At last Norin found his horse, mounted it and rode into the depths of the forest.
***
Several days later, when Norin was once more patrolling for unicorn hunters, he heard sobbing. Turning his horse in the direction of the noise, he came upon a maiden in a soiled dress kneeling in the center of the clearing. Her wild eyes searched the woods. Tear tracks stained her cheeks and strands of blond hair clung to her sweaty forehead. Norin’s horse pricked his ears and the next minute a golden-brown unicorn came into view. The majestic beast walked straight to the girl, sniffed her, then lay down on the grass beside her. A sick dread washed over Norin as realized the soldiers were using the girl to bait the unicorn. With a slow, deliberate motion he drew his sword and waited; eyes and ears straining for any sign of danger.
The girl gave a gasping sob, glanced at the woods around her, then put her hands on the unicorn’s face and whispered, “Get out of here while you still can.”
There was a slight movement to the right of the meadow. Norin’s head snapped in that direction. The girl also noticed it for she leapt to her feet shouting, “Get out of here! Go! You never should have come!”
The unicorn stood but remained in the meadow, seeming reluctant to leave. Norin spurred his horse forward just as the first hunter broke from the cover of the trees. The soldier leaned forward on his horse’s neck and slapped the girl hard across her face, causing her to fall in the grass with a small cry. The unicorn pressed his ears against his head and snorted in fear as the hunters moved to surround him. Norin slammed his horse into the horse of the first soldier. The animal spooked, throwing his rider. The unicorn reared then bolted as a gap appeared between the Rovinien soldiers. One of the soldiers cursed and raised a bow but Norin swung around in time to slice the bow in half. Norin moved between the other hunters slashing at them and knocking them off their horses. Then, seeing the young woman still sitting at the edge of the meadow, petrified with fear he shouted, “Run!”
As if his voice had broken a spell she was under, the girl stood and ran up a nearby hill as fast as her legs would carry her. By this time the soldiers recovered and many remounted their horses. Several broke away from the main group and spurred their mounts in the direction of the fleeing girl. Norin struggled with the others until he broke out of their ranks. He sped past the soldiers, overtook the young woman and swung her onto the horse in front of him.
An arrow whizzed past Norin’s ear. He ducked, throwing a protective arm around the girl in front of him. Suddenly an arrow sailed through the air in front of Norin and struck one of the soldiers in the chest. He the ground with a loud “thump” while his horse turned and ran back the way it had come. Norin pulled his own horse to a stop as more arrows came from the trees, showering the Roviniens. Unable to identify where the shots were coming from, the soldiers turned and retreated. Norin gazed after them in amazement then lifted his reins intending to ride in the opposite direction.
Just then a sharp voice called, “Stay where you are, come no closer!”
A group of fully armed warriors broke from the cover of the trees and approached to surround Norin, who watched them warily without moving. Seeing Norin ringed in by the warriors, the girl came out of her shock and cried, “Hold your fire. This man saved me from the soldiers.”
The warriors lowered their weapons into less threatening positions.
“You must take him to my father,” the girl added, sliding off the back of the horse.
One of the warriors stepped forward to assist her while another ordered Norin to dismount and hand over his weapons. Norin frowned, then looked to the girl who nodded at him. With a sigh he dismounted and passed his sword and a few other small weapons to the man who had spoken. Another man took hold of his horse’s reins.
They moved into the forest where they came to a village of rough huts. Several people ran up to the girl praising the Lord of Light that she was safe before looking with curiosity at Norin as he passed surrounded by their warriors. At last they came to a long hut which was larger than the others. The girl stepped inside and the warriors pushed Norin in after her. The floor of the hut was covered in soft furs, its beams covered in carvings depicting the clan’s history. The grey bearded chieftain sat in the center of the long hut on a high backed wooden chair. The girl ran to him and he stepped forward to meet her.
“Chieftain Oathswine,” said one of the warriors. “When we went to search for Lady Elena as you ordered we found this man riding through the woods ahead of a group of Rovinien soldiers with your daughter on the front of his saddle.”
He gestured at Norin.
“He rescued me from them, father,” said Elena.
Chieftain Oathswine scrutinized Norin before asking, “Who are you and what are you doing in these parts?”
“My name is Norin and I am a survivor of the Wind Clan. I have been living in this forest since my clan was attacked by Rovinien nearly a year ago.”
“Indeed?” Oathswine raised an eyebrow. “I have heard of the destruction of the Wind Clan. How did you manage to escape the Roviniens?”
“I was wounded as I defended the clan with the others. The wound was bad enough that I couldn’t continue fighting. I knew the soldiers would kill me if I stayed, so I fled into the forest. I rode until the pain became too much. Then I collapsed on the forest floor. I remained in the woods, at first regaining my strength, and later attacking the Roviniens from their cover.”
“If you were so badly wounded how is it you recovered?”
“I suppose the magic of the forest saved me,” Norin replied.
It was clear this answer didn’t satisfy the chieftain’s curiosity.
Oathswine frowned and asked, “Why did you not find another clan to join when you recovered?”
“I had everything I needed here in the forest,” Norin replied. “I didn’t need the security of another clan and there were plenty of opportunities to fight Roviniens here.”
Oathswine’s frown deepened and his forehead creased with confusion. At last he said, “I thank you for saving my daughter. I insist you stay with my clan for a time so that I may show you my gratitude.”
Elena’s eyebrows rose in surprise. She opened her mouth to say something but was cut off as Oathswine signaled two warriors to accompany Norin out of the hut. Norin bowed his head then exited.
Norin and two warriors joined a group seated around a campfire. They remained at the fireside for some time until the warriors became distracted by an old man telling stories. A shadow flickered at the very edge of the firelight, catching Norin’s attention. He turned to see Elena, washed and in a fresh dress, beckoning him to her. Without a word Norin stood and slipped into the blanketing darkness. Elena led him to the very edge of camp, where his horse was tied, before she spoke.
“I wanted to warn you,” she said with a nervous glance at the huts silhouetted by firelight. “My father and many members of the camp don’t trust you. They think you are lying about living in the woods and that you might be a spy for Rovinien or Sardi. I fear they may try to harm you.”
“What makes you disagree with the others?” asked Norin.
“If you were a spy you wouldn’t have cared what became of me. I brought your weapons. They’re strapped to your horse’s saddle. Leave quickly before they notice.”
Norin took Elena’s hand and said sincerely, “Thank you, my lady.”
Elena squeezed his hand before releasing it.
“Hurry!” she cried. “They will come looking for you any minute.”
Norin untied his horse then swung himself into the saddle and, with a parting salute to Elena, rode into the dark forest.
***
The next morning the fairy queen once again summoned Norin to the dancing meadow. She was already waiting there when he arrived.
“You have done well. I heard of your battles to protect the unicorns and save Chieftain Oathswine’s daughter,” said the queen. “You have proven yourself a mighty hero. For this reason I have a gift for you, something which will help you accomplish your goals.”
She snapped her fingers and a few pixies flew out of the cover of the trees carrying a sheathed broadsword. With a curious glance at the queen, Norin took the sword from the pixies, drew it from its sheath and held it out in front of him to better examine it. The sword gleamed white as the sun reflected off a strange twisting pattern on the hilt and cross guard.
“The dwarves forged the Silver Sword long ago,” said the fairy queen, “They gave it to us for safe keeping until a worthy hero should arise to take it.”
A smile crossed Norin’s face and he lifted the Silver Sword to salute with it.
“Thank you. I will make sure it serves its purpose well.”
The queen gave him a wise sad smile and said, “There is one last task you must accomplish to prove you are worthy to wield this sword.”
“What task is that, my lady?”
“You must save Oathswine’s clan from being destroyed by the Roviniens.”
She gestured at a spot behind Norin where a column of smoke rose above the trees.
“That is not going to happen!” Norin shouted.
He strapped the sheath to his belt as he dashed through the forest to find his horse.
Story continued in Swan Warrior Part 2.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
ABNA Semi-Finals
Well the Semi-Final lists are up for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award but my YA book The Jericho Effect is no longer in the running. I'm a little disappointed but I think with some more editing I can eventually sell The Jericho Effect to a publisher or agent. Guess it's time to get back to work. I'm not going to give up on it, it's a great story after all. At least through the contest I got a little publicity, a few good reader reviews and a Publisher's Weekly review. Amazon also informed me that all Quarterfinalist excerpts will be available as free Kindle downloads until the end of June.
Monday, April 12, 2010
April Writing News Update
Just wanted to let everyone know, my artist and I revised the cover of A Time of Training a little bit. Click the e-store link on the left side of the blog or the one on the Facebook fan group to see the slight changes. Personally, I think it looks better than ever.
Also, my YA book the Jericho Effect is still in the Quarterfinals of the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award. If you haven't already, feel free to check it out and download the excerpt.
Also, my YA book the Jericho Effect is still in the Quarterfinals of the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award. If you haven't already, feel free to check it out and download the excerpt.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Silver Sword Saga: Unworthy
This story is another piece from the Silver Sword Saga continued from Forging which I posted here a few weeks ago.
The Silver Sword's Unworthy Wielder:
Let the praise of God be on their lips and a two-edged sword in their hand, to deal out vengeance to the nations and punishment on all the peoples.
Psalm 149: 6-7
Great wailing songs rang across the Emerald Mountains, echoing back from their rocky peaks. The elderly chieftain of the Rovin people had died leaving his fiery son Silvanus to lead the clan. Silvanus commanded that the clan observe three days of mourning in honor of their dead leader. The funeral ceremony came to an end as a few members of the clan placed small gifts on the burial mound and recited a prayer that the Lord of Light would take the soul of the chieftain to His kingdom. As the sun dipped behind the peaks, casting the mountainside into shadow, the Rovin people returned to their huts where stories of the old chieftain would be told late into the night.
Silvanus returned to the large hut of the chieftain. There he wrapped himself in furs and sat up late welcoming the members of the clan who came to offer condolences for the death of his father and assure him of their family's loyalty to him. As one such group of well-wishers moved exited the hut, Silvanus noticed the dwarf Balamus standing in the shadows near the door.
"Ah, my old friend. I suppose you've come to offer sypathy from the dwarves," said Silvanous rubbing a hand over his tired eyes.
“And to tell say that I believe he left the clan in good hands,” Balamus replied stepping forward and placing a large cloth wrapped bundle on the ground near Silvanus’ feet. “You have the strength of the mountains and you have always been open to learning the secrets of metal. I have no doubt that you will lead your people to great things. I have brought you a gift to help you lead and protect your people.” He gestured at the bundle before walking to the door of the hut. Over his shoulder he called, “Use it wisely. Its purpose is protection and justice. May the Lord of Light bless you and your clan.”
Curious, Silvanus leaded forward, picked up the bundle and pulled away the cloth. Resting on the roughly woven cloth lay a gleaming yet simple looking broadsword. Silvanus grasped the hilt and stood, leaving sword’s wrappings on the floor of the hut. He swung the Silver Sword through the air experimentally. A sudden flow of energy sang through his body radiating from the sword. Feeling exhilarated by this sudden rush of power, Silvanus grasped the sword in both hands and brought it down on a metal pitcher resting on a nearby table. As the blade struck it the pitcher split in half, the pieces clattering to the floor as the Silver Sword buried itself in the wood of the table. With an effort, Silvanus pulled the sword out of the table and examined it with gleaming blue eyes. The dwarves had given the Rovin people many gifts in the time the clan had spent with them but this gift topped them all. This sword would make the Rovin clan invincible.
***
About a month later the dwarves watched from perches on the jagged rocks of the peaks as the Rovin people broke camp and wound their way down thin paths towards the yellowish green plains far below the mountains. Once the period of mourning for his father passed, Silvanus had announced his intention to move the clan back to the plains where they had come from three years ago.
“Our time spent with the dwarves has been time well spent but it is time that we returned to the lands of humans,” said Silvanus. “Thanks to the dwarves we know how to make weapons and armor of metal so we do not need to fear other clans. We are brave, fierce warriors and the plains are our lands. Let us take our place in them.”
Preparations for the move to the plains had begun immediately but Silvanus would not allow the clan to leave the mountains until everyone of his warriors was equipped with weapons and armor of hard metals. Once all was ready Silvanus led his people out of the Emeralds with the Silver Sword hanging from a sheath on his belt.
As warriors bringing up the end of the procession rounded a jutting tower of stone, a group of about five dwarves approached Balamus. The old dwarf stood apart from his comrades staring after the vanishing figures of the humans.
“We saw what the young chieftain was carrying,” snapped the lead dwarf, without preamble. “How dare you give him the blest silver without speaking to us about it first?”
Balamus bent his neck and hunched up his shoulders as though to protect himself from a cold wind.
“The Lord of Light brought these humans to us so we could teach and protect them,” Balamus said at last. “I thought it would be only right to give them a chance to protect and care for themselves. I think the blest metal was meant to go to humans.”
“Even if that is true I think you picked the wrong human to trust with that sword,” said the spokes-dwarf. The other dwarves scowled at Balamus making it clear they agreed. “All that boy wants is to bring down every clan who has ever attacked his people! He made that clear by the way he fitted out all his warriors.”
“Silvanus is strong and clever,” Balamus replied. “He will make a great leader to his people and wield the sword well for their sake, you will see.”
“I certainly hope you’re right,” the spokes-dwarf sighed. “Because if you’re wrong I fear all Irowasa will pay for your mistake.”
***
The deadly Rovin warriors swept across the plains shining like stars fallen on the face of the earth. They were like an unstoppable wall of fire, scorching everything in their way. They burned a path through the plains, leaving rival warriors dead in their wake and taking the unprotected clans prisoner. In all the camps on the plains frightening stories were told of the shining warriors. Their leader, it was said, carried a sword as white as the moon which could fell the mightiest warrior with a single touch. Even when enemies of the Rovin clan discovered the secrets of metal armor and spread the knowledge to the other clans no weapon was a match for the Silver Sword.
My warriors are the most feared on all Irowasa and I intend to keep it that way, thought Silvanus as he stared at the bruised woman bound and kneeling before him.Strands of dirty brown hair hung over her face. She from a darker plains clan, Silvanus mused.
Out loud he said, “So you’re the rogue who told my enemies the secrets of metal. I must say I was very displeased when I learned that other clans had weapons to match those of my own warriors. I’ll admit I never expected a woman from a captured clan to attempt to be my undoing. I shall have to watch my prisoners more carefully.”
The woman spit at his foot in response earning her a slap from one of the warriors standing guard.Silvanus drew his sword and took a step closer to her.
“No weapon is a match for the Silver Sword,” he told her. “I still have the upper hand.”
He nodded to one of his warriors who stepped forward to hold the woman in place. Silvanus lowered the sword toward her neck. The woman’s nostrils flared and she stiffened but made no effort to struggle.
“In the end all the people of the plains will subject themselves to the Rovin clan or be killed,” he added when the blade was an inch from her skin.
Without warning the Silver Sword shot backward, clipping Silvanus’ right cheek. Silvanus cursed and pressed his left hand to his face.
Seeing his warriors staring at him in surprise he ordered, “Kill the filthy spy!”
As his men moved to obey his order he lifted the Silver Sword and regarded it. The sword was getting stronger and it no longer seemed to want to answer to him. That worried him.
***
“Have you heard of the latest atrocities committed by your precious chieftain?” asked an angry looking red faced dwarf.
Balamus took a deep breath and let it out very slowly.
“What do you want me to say?” he asked in a weary voice. “You were right. I made a terrible mistake.”
“Well at least you admit it,” snorted the other dwarf. “I was half afraid you’d try to defend his evil actions.”
Balamus shuddered. He had never guessed Silvanus could be so ruthless but the news brought by fairies and dragons flying over the plains left no room for doubt.
“We want you to fix this mess,” said the other dwarf. “After all, you’re the one who started it. Now it’s up to you to end it.”
That was how Balamus ended up at the edge of the camp of the Rovin people one moonless spring night.He crouched low to the ground as he slipped past the pacing figures of the guards patrolling the edge of the campsite. Once Balamus tripped on a patch of loose gravel causing a nearby warrior to pause and cock his head, listening. Balamus froze and held his breath. After a few long seconds the warrior decided the noise must have come from an animal and went back to his patrol. Balamus resumed breathing as he crawled deeper into the camp.
At last he reached Silvanus’ tent which lay in the center of the camp. Seeing yet another guard standing at the entrance, Balamus slipped around the side of the tent, drew a knife and cut through the tough fabric. He smiled at how easily the knife tore through the cloth. The dwarves hadn’t taught the humans all their secrets. Dwarf knives were still much sharper than any the humans carried. Balamus slid through the hole, into the interior of Silvanus’ private areas and immediately saw the Silver Sword lying in its sheath beside Silvanus’ sleeping form.
With his heart beating fast the dwarf reached out and grasped the sword, sliding it under his cloak. He glanced at Silvanus but the chieftain remained fast asleep. Perhaps the other dwarves would want him to kill Silvanus, but Balamus knew he could never do it. Deep down he was sure that the loss of the Silver Sword would be a harder blow for the Rovin people than even the death of Silvanus would be.
Moving like a shadow, Balamus exited the tent and stole toward the edge of camp. Just as Balamus moved onto the open plains an angry wail rang out behind him followed by Silvanus’ voice crying, “A thief has been here. Find him and bring him to me!”
I’m sorry my old friend, Balamus thought. He ran southwest as Rovin warriors thundered after him on horseback.
***
A few days later Balamus found himself standing beneath the deep green canopy of the forest the fairies had claimed as their kingdom. There he related the tale of the Silver Sword to the fairy queen, a tall woman with white-blond hair, large gauzy wings and intense blue eyes.
“I think it would be best if you kept the sword for now, just until you find a human worthy to wield it,” Balamus concluded.
“Why me?” asked the fairy queen. “Why not have your own people keep it?”
“You are much wiser than I and I have already made the mistake of giving it to the wrong person once,” Balamus explained. “I wouldn’t want to risk it happening again. Besides, your people are the guardians of all Irowasa, it seems only right that you should guard its most powerful weapon as well.”
The fairy queen nodded and held out her hands to take the sword. Balamus smiled in relief as he handed it over.
***
The Rovin people became rulers of the north-eastern plains of Irowasa, an area which was later named Rovinien in honor of the ruling clan. They were, however, unable to take control of the sea coast from the clans living there. Eventually a great city was built in Rovinien which became its capital. The city was named Silivar and there is a legend that it was so named in honor of a magical sword whose existence is still in question.
The fairies, meanwhile, kept the Silver Sword hidden in the heart of their forest kingdom waiting for a time when a worthy hero would arise to claim it.
Silver Sword Saga continued in Swan Warrior Part 1.
The Silver Sword's Unworthy Wielder:
Let the praise of God be on their lips and a two-edged sword in their hand, to deal out vengeance to the nations and punishment on all the peoples.
Psalm 149: 6-7
Great wailing songs rang across the Emerald Mountains, echoing back from their rocky peaks. The elderly chieftain of the Rovin people had died leaving his fiery son Silvanus to lead the clan. Silvanus commanded that the clan observe three days of mourning in honor of their dead leader. The funeral ceremony came to an end as a few members of the clan placed small gifts on the burial mound and recited a prayer that the Lord of Light would take the soul of the chieftain to His kingdom. As the sun dipped behind the peaks, casting the mountainside into shadow, the Rovin people returned to their huts where stories of the old chieftain would be told late into the night.
Silvanus returned to the large hut of the chieftain. There he wrapped himself in furs and sat up late welcoming the members of the clan who came to offer condolences for the death of his father and assure him of their family's loyalty to him. As one such group of well-wishers moved exited the hut, Silvanus noticed the dwarf Balamus standing in the shadows near the door.
"Ah, my old friend. I suppose you've come to offer sypathy from the dwarves," said Silvanous rubbing a hand over his tired eyes.
“And to tell say that I believe he left the clan in good hands,” Balamus replied stepping forward and placing a large cloth wrapped bundle on the ground near Silvanus’ feet. “You have the strength of the mountains and you have always been open to learning the secrets of metal. I have no doubt that you will lead your people to great things. I have brought you a gift to help you lead and protect your people.” He gestured at the bundle before walking to the door of the hut. Over his shoulder he called, “Use it wisely. Its purpose is protection and justice. May the Lord of Light bless you and your clan.”
Curious, Silvanus leaded forward, picked up the bundle and pulled away the cloth. Resting on the roughly woven cloth lay a gleaming yet simple looking broadsword. Silvanus grasped the hilt and stood, leaving sword’s wrappings on the floor of the hut. He swung the Silver Sword through the air experimentally. A sudden flow of energy sang through his body radiating from the sword. Feeling exhilarated by this sudden rush of power, Silvanus grasped the sword in both hands and brought it down on a metal pitcher resting on a nearby table. As the blade struck it the pitcher split in half, the pieces clattering to the floor as the Silver Sword buried itself in the wood of the table. With an effort, Silvanus pulled the sword out of the table and examined it with gleaming blue eyes. The dwarves had given the Rovin people many gifts in the time the clan had spent with them but this gift topped them all. This sword would make the Rovin clan invincible.
***
About a month later the dwarves watched from perches on the jagged rocks of the peaks as the Rovin people broke camp and wound their way down thin paths towards the yellowish green plains far below the mountains. Once the period of mourning for his father passed, Silvanus had announced his intention to move the clan back to the plains where they had come from three years ago.
“Our time spent with the dwarves has been time well spent but it is time that we returned to the lands of humans,” said Silvanus. “Thanks to the dwarves we know how to make weapons and armor of metal so we do not need to fear other clans. We are brave, fierce warriors and the plains are our lands. Let us take our place in them.”
Preparations for the move to the plains had begun immediately but Silvanus would not allow the clan to leave the mountains until everyone of his warriors was equipped with weapons and armor of hard metals. Once all was ready Silvanus led his people out of the Emeralds with the Silver Sword hanging from a sheath on his belt.
As warriors bringing up the end of the procession rounded a jutting tower of stone, a group of about five dwarves approached Balamus. The old dwarf stood apart from his comrades staring after the vanishing figures of the humans.
“We saw what the young chieftain was carrying,” snapped the lead dwarf, without preamble. “How dare you give him the blest silver without speaking to us about it first?”
Balamus bent his neck and hunched up his shoulders as though to protect himself from a cold wind.
“The Lord of Light brought these humans to us so we could teach and protect them,” Balamus said at last. “I thought it would be only right to give them a chance to protect and care for themselves. I think the blest metal was meant to go to humans.”
“Even if that is true I think you picked the wrong human to trust with that sword,” said the spokes-dwarf. The other dwarves scowled at Balamus making it clear they agreed. “All that boy wants is to bring down every clan who has ever attacked his people! He made that clear by the way he fitted out all his warriors.”
“Silvanus is strong and clever,” Balamus replied. “He will make a great leader to his people and wield the sword well for their sake, you will see.”
“I certainly hope you’re right,” the spokes-dwarf sighed. “Because if you’re wrong I fear all Irowasa will pay for your mistake.”
***
The deadly Rovin warriors swept across the plains shining like stars fallen on the face of the earth. They were like an unstoppable wall of fire, scorching everything in their way. They burned a path through the plains, leaving rival warriors dead in their wake and taking the unprotected clans prisoner. In all the camps on the plains frightening stories were told of the shining warriors. Their leader, it was said, carried a sword as white as the moon which could fell the mightiest warrior with a single touch. Even when enemies of the Rovin clan discovered the secrets of metal armor and spread the knowledge to the other clans no weapon was a match for the Silver Sword.
My warriors are the most feared on all Irowasa and I intend to keep it that way, thought Silvanus as he stared at the bruised woman bound and kneeling before him.Strands of dirty brown hair hung over her face. She from a darker plains clan, Silvanus mused.
Out loud he said, “So you’re the rogue who told my enemies the secrets of metal. I must say I was very displeased when I learned that other clans had weapons to match those of my own warriors. I’ll admit I never expected a woman from a captured clan to attempt to be my undoing. I shall have to watch my prisoners more carefully.”
The woman spit at his foot in response earning her a slap from one of the warriors standing guard.Silvanus drew his sword and took a step closer to her.
“No weapon is a match for the Silver Sword,” he told her. “I still have the upper hand.”
He nodded to one of his warriors who stepped forward to hold the woman in place. Silvanus lowered the sword toward her neck. The woman’s nostrils flared and she stiffened but made no effort to struggle.
“In the end all the people of the plains will subject themselves to the Rovin clan or be killed,” he added when the blade was an inch from her skin.
Without warning the Silver Sword shot backward, clipping Silvanus’ right cheek. Silvanus cursed and pressed his left hand to his face.
Seeing his warriors staring at him in surprise he ordered, “Kill the filthy spy!”
As his men moved to obey his order he lifted the Silver Sword and regarded it. The sword was getting stronger and it no longer seemed to want to answer to him. That worried him.
***
“Have you heard of the latest atrocities committed by your precious chieftain?” asked an angry looking red faced dwarf.
Balamus took a deep breath and let it out very slowly.
“What do you want me to say?” he asked in a weary voice. “You were right. I made a terrible mistake.”
“Well at least you admit it,” snorted the other dwarf. “I was half afraid you’d try to defend his evil actions.”
Balamus shuddered. He had never guessed Silvanus could be so ruthless but the news brought by fairies and dragons flying over the plains left no room for doubt.
“We want you to fix this mess,” said the other dwarf. “After all, you’re the one who started it. Now it’s up to you to end it.”
That was how Balamus ended up at the edge of the camp of the Rovin people one moonless spring night.He crouched low to the ground as he slipped past the pacing figures of the guards patrolling the edge of the campsite. Once Balamus tripped on a patch of loose gravel causing a nearby warrior to pause and cock his head, listening. Balamus froze and held his breath. After a few long seconds the warrior decided the noise must have come from an animal and went back to his patrol. Balamus resumed breathing as he crawled deeper into the camp.
At last he reached Silvanus’ tent which lay in the center of the camp. Seeing yet another guard standing at the entrance, Balamus slipped around the side of the tent, drew a knife and cut through the tough fabric. He smiled at how easily the knife tore through the cloth. The dwarves hadn’t taught the humans all their secrets. Dwarf knives were still much sharper than any the humans carried. Balamus slid through the hole, into the interior of Silvanus’ private areas and immediately saw the Silver Sword lying in its sheath beside Silvanus’ sleeping form.
With his heart beating fast the dwarf reached out and grasped the sword, sliding it under his cloak. He glanced at Silvanus but the chieftain remained fast asleep. Perhaps the other dwarves would want him to kill Silvanus, but Balamus knew he could never do it. Deep down he was sure that the loss of the Silver Sword would be a harder blow for the Rovin people than even the death of Silvanus would be.
Moving like a shadow, Balamus exited the tent and stole toward the edge of camp. Just as Balamus moved onto the open plains an angry wail rang out behind him followed by Silvanus’ voice crying, “A thief has been here. Find him and bring him to me!”
I’m sorry my old friend, Balamus thought. He ran southwest as Rovin warriors thundered after him on horseback.
***
A few days later Balamus found himself standing beneath the deep green canopy of the forest the fairies had claimed as their kingdom. There he related the tale of the Silver Sword to the fairy queen, a tall woman with white-blond hair, large gauzy wings and intense blue eyes.
“I think it would be best if you kept the sword for now, just until you find a human worthy to wield it,” Balamus concluded.
“Why me?” asked the fairy queen. “Why not have your own people keep it?”
“You are much wiser than I and I have already made the mistake of giving it to the wrong person once,” Balamus explained. “I wouldn’t want to risk it happening again. Besides, your people are the guardians of all Irowasa, it seems only right that you should guard its most powerful weapon as well.”
The fairy queen nodded and held out her hands to take the sword. Balamus smiled in relief as he handed it over.
***
The Rovin people became rulers of the north-eastern plains of Irowasa, an area which was later named Rovinien in honor of the ruling clan. They were, however, unable to take control of the sea coast from the clans living there. Eventually a great city was built in Rovinien which became its capital. The city was named Silivar and there is a legend that it was so named in honor of a magical sword whose existence is still in question.
The fairies, meanwhile, kept the Silver Sword hidden in the heart of their forest kingdom waiting for a time when a worthy hero would arise to claim it.
Silver Sword Saga continued in Swan Warrior Part 1.
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