Traitors (The Traitor King Saga Book 1) Page 2

  “Spook, it’s alright,” Blaze comforted while leaning and rubbing the mare’s neck. “It’s alright; it’s okay. We have to be brave now.”

  Meanwhile, Satin gave Tray and her father trouble. The stallion tried to rear up and back away from the restraint, while he normally stood firm, even with a snake in his path.

  “We’ve got to go. They must hear that cohe,” her father said. “Ava, can you help Tray hold Satin while I get my sword?”

  “Of course.” Her mother walked Blaze and Spook toward Tray and Satin.

  “Hush, Satin, we’ll be gone soon,” Blaze soothed from Spook’s saddle. “See how good Spook is doing? You’re safe.”

  Spook calmed down while Blaze massaged her neck and remained in place as her mother grabbed hold of Satin’s reign. “Shh, Satin,” her mother whispered, and began to rub his neck. He calmed a little, resorting to shaking instead of rearing. Blaze’s father walked around the horse and ran into the barn.

  Disaster struck in an instant. A shout shot from the barn as her father burst out, sword whirling, with three others clothed in red attacking him.

  “Tray! Take Blaze!” her mother shouted. She leapt onto Satin and charging the intruders.

  The air filled with a ferocious scream of death. As Blaze’s hands flew to protect her ears from the awful noise, a huge dark mass swooped down and collided with her mother and Satin.

  “No!” Blaze cried out as the vicious black monster obstructed her view of the carnage. It spread its massive, leathery wings and attacked whatever moved.

  “Ava!” came her father’s horrified voice. He charged the beast, and its rider pointed a bow at him. The hiss of an arrow sounded, and she screamed as her father fell to the ground.

  Tears of horror and rage streamed from her eyes as a scream continued to rip from her throat. She had to help! Had to save her parents, had to help her father up!

  While the moment held her in time, everything else resumed its rapid pace. Tray leapt onto Spook, and the crazed mare shot away into the woods.

  Tray held her and the reigns tight. “Hush, Blaze, please,” he begged, and Blaze choked back her screams to sobs as the tear-soaked woods flew past them. After racing down tight trails, the strangling woods jumped back as Spook sprang onto a wide road. With Tray’s encouragement, Spook gave everything that she had. Her breathing became labored, and lather dappled her neck. “Just a little ways more till the Cross Roads,” Tray explained to himself, the exhausted mare, and the numb Blaze. “Then we can…”

  Thud.

  Tray fell forward as his breath hurled out of him. Gripping Spook by both reigns and mane, Blaze turned to see the moonlight filtering through the feathers of an arrow in Tray’s crumpled form. Dark horses with red riders thundered past him.

  The ear-splitting scream filled the air again as the cohe and rider slammed down in front of Blaze. Spook panicked, trying to stop and change direction at the same time, but the mare lost her footing and tumbled. With a roar, the monster pounced on the hopeless creature.

  Spook’s collapse rent Blaze from the saddle, and every rock claimed a piece of her as she skidded and rolled across the road. She stopped by slamming into a tree. A bone-jarring crack and her own agonized cry filled the area as broken pain shocked her entire body. Time once again stood still as the rider directed the beast away from Spook’s unmoving form. Blaze studied every detail of the dreaded cohe.

  Ghostly moonlight shown onto its leathery, death-gray skin. Four muscular legs with three thick, clawed toes carved slits into the ground. A long arrow-tipped tail whipped and writhed as the rider tried to bridle its violence. Sleek like a snake’s head, the monster’s oversized skull held two milky-white orbs for eyes, and its large mouth could eat half of her with one bite of razor-sharp teeth and fangs. Rotten air exited through the two slits of its nose, and its giant twitching bat ears were each as long as a grown man’s forearm and hand.

  It hissed and screamed as it prepared to finish her, just as it had her mother. Cold seeped in as her warm life flowed out of every cut and gash. The moonlight started to fade away as her vision tunneled to the cohe’s rider.

  A chilled, cracked laughter filled Blaze’s ears. “You pathetic Traitor,” the rider hissed. “Where is your beloved True King?” She pulled the reigns to turn the cohe away. With much protest, the beast complied.

  Many hooves approach and the ringing of a drawn sword came from behind her head. “No need, Kent,” the rider spat. “This one is nearly gone and will suffer her end as an example to all of the Traitors. Leave her to die.”

  The feet stepped toward the tree beside her. Bark pummeled her as he carved a symbol into the trunk: curved horns resting on a pedestal. Blaze’s vision dissolved, and all sound became muffled. As she slipped into nothingness, one last sob left her lips.

  CHAPTER 1

  Blaze’s senses buzzed with agitation. She’d prefer to enjoy the radiant spring morning with the sun kissing the earth with his warm beams through the clear blue sky and the glowing leaves singing in the light breeze. Donning their colorful dresses, the flowers brightened the land with their promenade, and all creatures celebrated with song and activity.

  But, she was being hunted.

  Every swaying plant and scurrying creature could be him. He could fade into any environment, which made him deadly and one of Urlifec’s best. Blaze’s hope rested with the sword at her side and her head start.

  Carefully but quickly, she picked her way through the forest towards her target: a cave near a stream. The rain from the night before helped her remain silent, but the damp ground would help her pursuer as well. Cleverness was the key.

  Strength means nothing in combat, Blaze’s mentor, Obrae, had taught her. You can have all of the strength in the kingdom, but this wouldn’t do you a spit of good without cleverness and strategy.

  Therefore, the cave wasn’t her ultimate destination. Both she and her pursuer knew about the cave and how easily someone could hide in its honeycombed expanse. He would go there in anticipation of her move. So, no cave. Heading towards the stream that passed it, she would emerge about a mile east of the cave. With her tracks lost in the water, her pursuer would have to guess her path with the temptation of the cave in the opposite direction.

  A twig snapped, and Blaze collapsed into a crouch to hide below the underbrush. Shooting forward, she braced her back against the far side of a tree. Every small sound shook her alert ears as blood quickened its course through her body. With white knuckles gripping the hilt of her sword, Blaze cautiously raised her eyes above the bushes to scout the area. The snap of the twig had sounded once and hadn’t continued in the carefree scuttle of a woodland creature. No, the twig was broken by a misplaced foot. He must be close.

  But how?

  She thought her head start guaranteed ample time to get further away. Her eyes took in every tree trunk, bush cluster, and bare patch. He could be hiding beneath the underbrush and just as hidden as her.

  There! At the edge of a cluster of bushes, the corner of a black cloak rested.

  Confident in her ability to move silently, she shivered in anticipation of at last being rid of him in a surprise attack. Her muscles twitched in eagerness. Cleverness be forsaken; she preferred an outright fight.

  The woods rustled in the distance, and a breeze headed her way, blowing in the direction she needed to move. Picking a new hiding place, Blaze tensed her fiery muscles, ready to move. Her heart tried to make her leap forward with every beat.

  The moment the first fingers of the breeze touched her, Blaze sprinted on her hands and feet, lithe and silent like a hunting cat. The breeze covered any sound she created and any plant she made move. Settling behind the large rootball of a fallen tree, she peered through the roots at the black cloak, rippling in the breeze. The prey had snuck up on the hunter. Slowly drawing her sword, Blaze prepared to attack.

  Her ears picked up a slight whoosh behind her, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Blaze twiste
d around in instinct, swinging her sword in time to barely parry and throw his attack.

  Blocked on her left by a root and him on her right, Blaze threw herself over the rotting trunk. His sword lodged in the wood. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she swung to decapitate while his sword was detained.

  The Urlifican ducked and wrenched his blade from the wood. He retreated a few steps into an area clear of underbush. Blaze followed, sword at the ready. A condescending grin pulled his lips.

  “I can’t believe you fell for that,” he sneered. “I was hoping this would be a challenge.”

  Blaze laughed as they circled; two wolves barring their fangs. “If that is what you call a trap, it was a pathetic one,” she taunted. “Apparently even the simplest prey could escape it.”

  He chuckled back. “Yes, well, sometimes the simplest prey gets lucky. Now guard yourself!”

  Blaze blocked his swing at her head and thrust her sword toward his stomach. He blocked her with a backhanded swing. Circling his blade back and around, he hacked down onto her head, only to be foiled by her sword. He pulled away and attacked again.

  Time crept on as they exchanged attacks and blocks. Dancing around the clearing, the two made their swords sing with each hit. Blaze’s muscles burned as her body protested the vigorous and continuous motion, and her joints shook with each jarring collision of the flying blades. Her lungs demanded more air, and her heart drummed the rhythm of survival.

  She felt so alive.

  They pulled apart from each other and began to circle along the edges of the clearing. Each gasped for air and shimmered with sweat. She had to keep the fight going. If this pause lasted much longer, her limbs would start to lock up with exhaustion, and she wouldn’t be able to move as fast as she needed. As their breathing recovered, she taunted him.

  “Come on, old man! I’ve seen children fight better than you.”

  “Well, you would be a disgrace if you tried for Lord King Urlifec’s military, stable dung.”

  “I would be a disgrace?! What about you? If I am so terrible at fighting, why haven’t you struck me down yet? Admit it, you’re just an old man desperately grasping at bygone days of youth. You don’t have it in you.”

  This seemed to strike a cord with him. He charged her with his sword held high and lightening in his eyes. Blaze held her ground, ready to react to his next move. His sword tilted to the right, hinting a slash. At the last possible second, she willed her body to twist back and left, spiraling out of his sword’s range and then back towards him. In one swift movement, she finished her spin by extending her sword to swing towards his unprotected neck. His sword might as well have been days away.

  Recognizing her triumph, Blaze cocked her wrist, causing her sword to tilt away from his neck as she brought the blade to a halt. The razor sharp edge tickled his hairs as he froze. “Dead,” she proclaimed, and a boastful smile took her lips with victory.

  They sheathed their swords, and the seasoned man leaned against the nearest tree. His burned gray hair still held some memory of the color black, and his leathery skin mimicked the tone of dark worn oak. He passed over a water skin after taking a drink. Blaze accepted it while grinning at him. He stared at her with light grey eyes under wiry black eyebrows as he wiped sweat away with a callused hand.

  “So, Blaze, what was all of that?”

  “Obrae, that was me mastering the master.”

  He chuckled while accepting the water skin back. “’Mastering the master,’ eh? Hardly! If I recall correctly, this wasn’t an exercise for the sword…”

  Blaze shrugged as he grabbed his cloak. “I took out the enemy.” They started walking back. “Isn’t that all that matters? Is it important that I didn’t get away from you if you are dead?”

  Obrae shook his head like a teacher with a stubborn pupil. “Once again, Blaze, you forgot the ultimate objective. You could have gotten away and spared me.”

  “But, Urlifec’s soldiers are just trained dogs. They do his evil bidding, and they are the enemy. Lesira is better off with one less of their kind.”

  Obrae was silent for a moment. “Perhaps I can persuade you with a different thought,” he suggested. “Believe it or not, bonds do form amongst Urlifec’s ranks. I, myself, had many friends when I was an Urlifican. And everyone comes from some family or town.”

  He stopped as if he had explained her error. After a long silence, Blaze sighed. “Obrae, you now I don’t like it when you’re cryptic.”

  He chuckled, “Blaze, use your cleverness. There is someone out there who has a connection to me. You may take me down, but imagine the dozens of vengeful enemies you create in my place. And a blood trail is an easy thing to follow. Can you think of one other reason to spare me, oh master of the master?”

  She smiled at the gibe and shrugged. Obrae was in an unusually talkative mood.

  He tapped the back of her head. “If you spare my life, two responses can occur. One, I live to fight you one more day. And, with your masterful sword skills, that shouldn’t be a problem for you. Or two, I am moved by your steady hand, respect you, and might even reconsider your status as a pure enemy.”

  Blaze nodded respectfully, keeping her thoughts to herself. No matter what Obrae said, she would never show an Urlifican mercy, for what mercy had they shown on that night? The only reason she’d survived was because of their desire for suffering and Obrae’s chance crossing.

  They enjoyed the walk back to Obrae’s in silence. After a quartermoon consisting of nothing but heavy storms and rain, the sun became a forgotten commodity, and its new light and warmth made Blaze feel exhilarated. Stepping out into the field behind Obrae’s house, they saw his small flock of sheep grazing to the left, and in front of them, Bear Mountain rested his grand form.

  Named for its resemblance to a sleeping bear, Blaze had been taught that the settlers of Srift were happy to form the village on the other side of the lone mountain, blocking their view of the towering Zantar Cliffs. Like an impenetrable wall, the Zantar Cliffs held back the savage Wilderness along Lesira’s western border. Srift’s proximity to the cliffs made it a remote and generally avoided place due to the rumors of the Wilderness being a festering place of darkness. The people of Srift enjoyed the privacy afforded by that superstition, and Blaze appreciated the scant Urlifican presence due to it.

  “Are you staying for lunch?” Obrae asked as they approached his small cabin.

  Blaze smiled. “Thanks, but we’ll need to start preserving those roots soon if Jonathan wants any use of them.”

  Obrae nodded. “Well, they’re in a sack by the barn. Good day.” He headed toward his door.

  Before he got inside, Blaze called back, “By the way, how did you catch up with me so quickly?”

  “Well, the master’s got to hold a few tricks up his sleeve if he wants to prevent getting mastered.” He closed the door with a wink.

  Shaking her head, Blaze jogged to the barn. The sack of fireleaf roots leaned up against the barn’s wall. Going through the front and back doors of the weathered barn, she sent out a series of whistles as she entered the grazing field: two short bursts and then a longer one that started high and decreased in pitch.

  A whinny answered, and Lily, Jonathan’s dun mare, came trotting from the field. “Hello girl, how was your morning? Full of lazy grazing on green grass, I suppose.” The mare’s bright eyes twinkled as she nickered in response. Blaze chuckled as Lily nudged her chest, looking for a treat. “Alright, Lil, just wait.” Fishing a dried water chestnut from a pocket in her belt, she fed the mare the treat and led her into the barn to be saddled.

  Both Blaze and Lily enjoyed the gentle climb from Obrae’s farm. Once they came to the junction of Obrae’s mountain pass and the main trail of Srift, she stopped Lily to check the path for occupants. Seeing none, she leaned forward and patted the spirited mare’s neck. “Alright, Lil, what do you say we challenge our record for getting home?” Lily pawed at the ground. “Me too, let’s go! Heeyah!” Lily flew do
wn the road at full gallop with Blaze shouting with the rush.

  ********

  Standing and stretching, a man revealed himself in one of the many gardens surrounding a large cottage. Blaze reigned in the panting mare as she passed him. “Now, what if I have some emergency where I have to get to town quickly? Poor Lily won’t make it passed the first tree,” he scolded, the smile never leaving his long, thin face.

  Blaze lifted her hands in mock surrender. “Hey, it was Lil’s idea.”

  “I thought you were the one with the reigns, not her.” Her guardian smiled as Blaze stuck out her tongue. She straightened up in the saddle and haughtily urged Lily forward. He called out in a parenting tone. “I hope Lily also remembered the fireleaf root and that she puts her reigns on the peg this time instead of in a heap on the saddle.”

  “She remembered the root,” Blaze called back. “But, Jonathan, I can’t promise on the reigns; she may even lay them on the ground for the mice to eat.”

  He laughed and bent back down to defend his garden from green intruders.

  After she took the tack off of Lily and put it away in the small barn, Blaze let the three-cycled mare out to pasture and headed to the house with the bag of fireleaf root.

  Part of what made Jonathan a good healer was his passion for plants. Rose, shrub, vegetable, tuber, fruit, and herb gardens created a sea of terrestrial colors, and his cottage was an island in the middle. Anything that could be grown, Jonathan grew it. Every season brought new sights, sounds, and smells to his paradise as Spring’s pastels and feathered songs faded into Summer and Fall’s rich hues and chattering cicadas. Winter’s cold breath simply enhanced the emeralds of his evergreens and the patterned barks of his trees.

  Blaze unlatched the front door and was greeted with the smell of smoke, roots, and herbs. A fire glowed in the hearth across from her, and she set the bag of roots beside the door. Jonathan’s cabin was cozy but never cramped, even when the monthly Dinner filled the room with Traitors. Shelves and cabinets lined the walls to her right and left, containing jars and skins of preserves, oils, seeds, medicines, and seasonings. On either side of the fire place, large windows with cabinets underneath completed the room. The windows donned different seasonal occupants, and at the moment, small pots of seedlings sprouted in the generous spring sun. In the summer and fall, drying herbs acted like curtains, and in the winter, real curtains hung to keep the cold from invading their home.