Chapter 3

“Is she still breathing?”

“Yes, but you need to step back, Rav.” Kyrr firmly pushed Ravonaar out of the way. “I need to be able to work, and I’m going to need you three to hold her down. It’s very painful.” Kyrr bent over the woman and examined the wound in her side. “It looks like she was sliced clean through, with no tearing, so it should be relatively easy.” He nodded. “Painful, but easy.” Kyrr motioned for Draerios and Abraxas to hold her arms and legs, and instructed Ravonaar to hold her head. He walked around and placed his hands over the gaping hole in her side and looked at his friends.

“Hold her tight now. She can’t move.” He took a deep breath, drawing a sign in the air and muttering an incantation. A faint glow shone from under his palms as the woman’s eyes flew open. She jerked and strained against the hold she was under, but everyone held her firmly down. Grinding her teeth, she choked back a scream, tears streaming down her face.

Neiran watched everyone silently from the crack in the door. His eyes were intent upon the strange woman, who was clearly not human. Eventually, it appeared that she passed out from the pain, and the men in the room remained silent as the stranger worked.

Neiran silently shut the door and turned back down the hallway. He needed to go find Cadoc and retrieve his sword. Neiran was also hoping he could push Cadoc for information. If anyone knew who the stranger and the woman were, it would be him. Cadoc had been here forever, and had accompanied Lord Ravonaar everywhere he went. He oversaw all the duties and stations within the castle, save for the guard, and he also advised Ravonaar on various occasions.

Neiran chewed his lip as he thought. There were a great many strange things happening today. It made for an interesting birthday, but Neiran felt worried all the same.

As he opened the door to the Great Hall, he was pleased to see that all the guests had departed, save for a few stragglers here and there. Looking around the room, he spotted Cadoc standing on the dais and clutching Neiran’s sword.

“Cadoc!” Neiran waved to the seneschal as he trotted across the hall. As he neared, he slowed to a stop and cleared his throat. “I’ll take my sword, Cadoc, you don’t have to carry it.”

Blinking, the man glanced down at the package in his arms. “Oh yes, Master Neiran, of course.” He handed the package to Neiran and peered at him. “I lost you in the chaos. Where did you run off to?”

“I was just standing off to the side. Out of the way.” Neiran peered back at him. “Do you know who that woman was, Cadoc?”

The man shook his head. “Truthfully, Master Neiran, I have never set eyes upon her.” He looked around the now empty room. “Lord Ravonaar obviously knew her well, though. I am surprised I do not know who she is.”

Neiran nodded in agreement. “I’ve never seen him react that way before. He turned as white as a ghost. He looked almost…scared.”

Cadoc laughed. “Your father? Scared? I seriously doubt that, Master Neiran. Worried, perhaps, but never scared. Your father has never been afraid of anything in his life. Scared, indeed.” He shook his head, still chuckling, and patted Neiran on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go up to your room? Put your sword away and get off to bed. I believe Captain Velon wanted you to meet him down at the training yard bright and early tomorrow morning—you’re to begin your training.”

His training! Neiran had almost forgotten in the midst of all the excitement that had happened that night. He nodded to Cadoc and thanked him for the reminder, and raced off to his room. Once inside, with the door firmly closed behind him, he drew his sword from its sheath once more. He admired the weight of the blade—it felt good in his hand, and the leather wrapped hilt felt secure. He looked closer at the inscriptions on the blade.

“Where have I seen those before…” Neiran muttered to himself as he placed his sword on his bed and began rummaging through his small library. He sifted through his history books until he finally found the one he needed—a tome on ancient languages. Those runes were indeed written in an old language.

“I swear I have seen this style of writing somewhere before…” Flipping open the book, Neiran began to scan each page in hopes that he would find something similar to the runes on his sword and scabbard. He rifled through papers for the better half of the night, to no avail. He was not able to find a single letter that was in any way similar to the runes that were etched on his blade. Neiran could not rid himself of the nagging in his head that he knew where those symbols came from, but his thoughts escaped him. Eyes heavy, he lay his head down on his books and promptly fell asleep.

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Neiran woke with a jerk at a sharp knock on his bedroom door.

“Master Neiran! This is a terrible way to begin your training.”

Neiran sleepily rubbed his eyes and shuffled to open the door. He was greeted by a disgruntled Cadoc, who glared at him.

“Wake up, Master Neiran.” Cadoc pushed his way past Neiran and picked up the boy’s boots. Neiran hastily grabbed them as Cadoc shoved the boots at his chest.

“Morning, Cadoc.”

“Afternoon, more like. You were supposed to be down at the training yard with Captain Velon at daybreak, don’t you remember?”

Neiran’s eyes widened as Cadoc’s word finally sank into his sleep-addled brain. “The training yard!” Neiran turned this way and that, tripping over himself as he tugged on his boots. He furiously rubbed his eyes and splashed water on his face from the basin. He grabbed his sword and ran by Cadoc, calling out an apology as he raced off to see the captain.

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“I apologize for my son’s tardiness, Captain.”

“No trouble at all, my lord. Last night’s events took a toll on him I’m sure—lots of excitement.” Velon glanced over the field where his soldiers were currently exercising. “We’ll work him hard to make up for lost time today.”

Ravonaar nodded. He had walked out that morning to see how Neiran’s training was, and to speak with Captain Velon about some of the details of the training Ravonaar wanted his son to focus on. He was disappointed, but not surprised, to see that Neiran was late.

Velon was right. Last night was exciting, with Neiran receiving his sword, and the festivities that followed. The woman that arrived in the midst of it all would bring questions from his son, that he was sure of. Ravonaar could sense that Velon was also quite curious, but knew better than to question his lord. Ravonaar had run out of the room in a hurry, followed by Abraxas and Draerios, and never returned to see to his guests. It was not something a host did, but the matter could not be helped. The woman was crucially important to all of them, and her wounds were near fatal. Lucky for all of them, Kyrr was close at hand. His healing abilities were unrivaled. Ravonaar himself could barely heal basic cuts and bruises, maybe seal a wound if need be. Kyrr was able to perform basic healing, as well as repair all internal damage and burn away infection. Thanks to Kyrr, the woman was on her way to a fast recovery.

“I’m here!”

Velon and Ravonaar turned to see Neiran waving and running over. The boy slowed to catch his breath, sketching out a quick bow to the captain and his father.

“A thousand apologies for my late arrival.” He glanced at the two men, and took in his father’s frown and Velon’s grin. He shifted his feet.

“I hope you at least have a good excuse for wasting the captain’s time.”

“Well…I was up doing research all night. I went over all the tomes in my possession, but never found what I was searching for. It was all in vain.”

“Come now, my boy!” Velon clapped Neiran on the shoulder. “Education is never in vain—we just need to work on your sword education. By your leave, my lord.” He bowed to Ravonaar, who inclined his head. Velon spun Neiran around and began marching him to the fields.

“Alright, lad. You won’t be training with your new blade. That’s a special one, that is, and I won’t have it ruined before your first real battle. Set it over there, next to the gate.” Captain Velon gestured over to the indicated spot, and then pointed at the barrel of training swords. “After that, grab a practice blade, and we will begin your stance training.”

Ravonaar watched Neiran rush to obey the captain. Truth be told, he was not worried about Neiran’s training---he had been looking forward to this moment for so long that Ravonaar had little doubt his son would work quite hard at perfecting his skill. He looked up as Abraxas approached.

“I see Neiran has finally arrived! Guess now that means I will actually have to stay out here in this blasted snow.” Abraxas glared at the sky, then looked out to the field. “Good, Velon started with footwork. The stance is the most important, you know. Fancy moves come at the very last.” He looked at his friend. “Rav?”

“Mm?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Not really, no.” Ravonaar glanced at his general. “A little bit. Velon should know what to do—you didn’t promote him for no reason. You also trained him, so I’m not worried about that at all.” He looked up towards the castle though. “I am worried about our guest, however. Has Kyrr made any report? Has she awoken?”

“I haven’t see Kyrr at all this morning, so I assume he is still with her in her chambers. You will have to go see for yourself.” He waved his hand out at Neiran. “I can keep a watch on the boy perfectly fine all by myself. You can go attend to your other duties.” Ravonaar nodded at his friend, then turned to head to the castle.

Neiran was dimly aware of Abraxas watching them, and although he tried to ignore that, Neiran felt waves of nerves wash over him. As he turned his foot to stay in line with Velon, he promptly tripped over himself and landed face first in the snow.

Scrambling to his feet, he brushed the snow from his clothes and glared at Velon, who was grinning at him.

“Come on, then. Back in formation, boy.”

Neiran raised his sword once more in a defensive position, and shifted his feet along the ground.

“Hold.”

Neiran froze as Velon stood straight and saluted as Abraxas hopped over the fence. He walked over to Neiran and used his foot to kick Neiran’s feet into place.

“Stop trying to copy Velon exactly. You are not as big as he is. Mimic the feet, but adjust to your body. Just because his shoulders and stance are wider doesn’t mean you have to stand the same way. Adjust for your body. You look like you’re about to squat in the snow. Your enemies will just laugh at you.” Abraxas pulled Neiran’s arms down. “That’s more comfortable right?” Neiran nodded. “I thought it might be. Captain,” Abraxas turned towards Velon, who was still standing at attention. “Try to remember that he is a lot smaller than the soldiers. If you don’t make adjustments, he will just keep tripping. We can’t have him impaling himself on his sword in his first battle.”

“General.”

Abraxas nodded and left the ring. Neiran and Velon both smiled sheepishly at one another as the captain assumed his stance. They began their circling routine again, with Neiran consciously making an effort to keep his feet closer to his body with every turn. This was slightly easier, and he didn’t feel so much a fool.

Training with Velon continued until sunset, and Neiran felt as though his arms might fall off. He sighed with relief when Velon ended the training, and he dropped his arms. Placing the sword back in the barrel, he winced. He would be sore tomorrow, that was for sure.

“Grab some salve from the healer’s quarters.” Neiran looked up at a soldier who had fallen into step with Neiran as he trudged up to the castle. “Ask for the mint one. It will help ease the pain for tomorrow.” He thrust out his hand. “Name’s Falon.” As Neiran weakly shook it, Falon grinned. “It will get easier. Wait until you have to learn how to fall.”

Neiran blinked. “Fall?”

“Well, you definitely don’t want to fall and scramble about looking for your sword. You have to learn how to fall properly so you’re able to defend yourself and get back up without getting stabbed in the process.” As they neared the doors, Falon saluted Neiran. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the training yard. Don’t forget about that salve.”

Neiran waved as he watched Falon head to the kitchen. Neiran was hungry as well, but first he would grab the salve from the healer. He was too sore to think of anything else. He passed Abraxas in the hall.

“Heading to see the healer?” At Neiran’s nod, he grinned. “Already grabbed some for you.” Handing Neiran the jar, Abraxas continued. “Your father said he wanted to see you. I’m headed to the Throne Room now, so you might as well come along.”

Neiran and Abraxas walked in silence. Neiran was always too nervous around the hulking general, even though he had known him since he was a babe. Neiran looked up to Abraxas in many ways. He was the most skilled warrior Neiran had ever known, second only to his father. He was a legend among the troops, and there were many rumors flying around as to his origins. Neiran only knew one truth, however, and that was how his father had rescued Abraxas and saved his life when they were both quite young. In turn, Abraxas had loyally served Ravonaar for many years.

Neiran realized Abraxas had been talking. “Pardon, sir. What were you saying?”

“I was asking you how you enjoyed your first training lesson.”

“I had expected to work with the sword more. I know that the basics are just as important as wielding the blade. I’m just impatient. Captain Velon also mentioned that I was to be trained in archery.”

“Eventually, yes, you will. It is good that you recognize the importance of the basics, however. They are just as important, if not more, than actual fighting. Once you master your stance, you will effectively hold your ground in a fight, which could be the one thing that saves your life in a pinch.”

“Falon said I was supposed to be trained on how to fall.”

“You won’t learn that straight away. But yes, falling properly is important. It would be rather embarrassing to fall flat on your face.” Grinning at the boy’s chagrin, he said, “It happens to everyone at the beginning. I tripped a lot in the beginning. You humans could not craft a sword suited for my weight—it was either too heavy or too light. I either flung it away from me, or let it drag me down to my knees. Not a good position to be in, in any situation.” They slowed to a stop in front of the Throne Room doors, and Abraxas rapped on the door.

“Rav? I’ve got the boy with me.”

“Yes, come in.”

Abraxas led the way into the room, and Neiran saw that the stranger was once again by his father’s side. Abraxas headed up the dais and stood to one side as Neiran bowed to his father.

“Neiran, I remembered earlier today that you had wanted to discuss something with me. You mentioned it to me yesterday before dinner? I apologize for being distracted, but it was clearly important. What is bothering you?”

Neiran glanced at the stranger, and slid his eyes back to his father.

“You make speak freely in front of Kyrr, Neiran. He is an old friend, one I trust completely.”

Neiran nodded and took a breath, trying to ignore the intensity of the stranger’s gaze. “Yesterday, when you sent me to see Cadoc about freshening up, I became incredibly uneasy walking down the hall. It felt as though someone was following me. Watching me.”

Ravonaar sat forward. “Did you see anyone?”

Neiran shook his head. “Not exactly, no. It was not someone. It was more of a shadowy…presence. I could not look upon it directly, else it vanished from view. I could only see it if I looked sideways at it. But it didn’t feel right. It felt…odd. More dark and slimy. Does that make sense? I called out to it, but Cadoc came out of the room to see what I was going on about, and it vanished.”

Ravonaar exchanged a glance with Abraxas.

“Did this shadow say anything at all to you?”

Neiran shook his head. “I haven’t seen it since last

night, either. The feeling hasn’t returned…but I haven’t forgotten it.”

Kyrr stepped forward. “Rav, I feel as though this may require some investigation on my part. I do not like that something has slipped past the wards so easily.”

“Nor do I.” Ravonaar’s gaze narrowed. “Abraxas, would you mind locating my brother for me? He should be here, slinking about.”

As Abraxas left, Ravonaar looked at his son. “Neiran, you must not breathe a word of this to anyone. We do not want to stir panic amongst the castle. Especially if there is nothing to be worried about. More than likely, it was a projection of some sort, and nothing of actual substance. We will know more once Kyrr finishes his investigation.” He looked over at Kyrr. “Will you require anything?” Kyrr shook his head. “Good. Neiran, why don’t you go and get some rest now? You will need your strength to continue your training tomorrow. Make sure to see Zara for some food.”

Neiran bowed to his father, then headed out to the hall. He was troubled by his father’s reaction. Neiran knew that Ravonaar was hiding something important, and it seemed as though Abraxas and Kyrr knew as well. He was sure that they knew the cause of this shadowy intruder. Neiran clenched his jaw. But of course they would share nothing, as they only saw him as a mere child.

Once he had begged some food from Zara, Neiran headed up to his room and began to undress to apply the salve on his aching muscles. He eyed the purple splotches on his tan skin, bruises already forming from his many falls to the ground. As he took off his shirt, metal thumped against his chest. He looked down at the pendant that hung from the leather cord.

Vierna. He hadn’t seen her since before his party, which was unusual. They hadn’t missed a day of each other’s company since they had first met. He had so much to talk to her about, between Kyrr, his new sword, and the strange woman that had collapsed in the hall. Neiran knew she would enjoy hearing how his father turned pale, and she would throw a million questions his way and demand to know why he hadn’t investigated further. Vierna harbored no fear of his father, and could never understand why Neiran never wanted to pry into Ravonaar’s business.

And the shadow. Ravonaar had expressly forbidden him to speak of it to anyone, but Neiran had never kept a secret from Vierna. This time would be no different.

Splashing water on his face, Neiran pulled on a plain shirt and some trousers. He shoved his feet into his boots and grabbed his cloak as he rushed out the door. As he ran down the hall, he rounded the corner and was stopped suddenly by a wall, knocking him down.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Neiran looked up at the wall to see it was in fact his uncle, once again dressed in full armor. He rubbed his head and got to his feet. “Uncle. My apologies. I was not paying attention.”

“No, that much was obvious.” The giant stared down at his nephew. “You had your first day of training this morning, correct?” At Neiran’s nod, Draerios grunted. “Good. At least my brother started you now. I was afraid for a while that he never would begin your training; that we would just end up with another useless whelp.” He scratched his chin. “I expect you to do our clan proud. We are warriors. We always have been. We must fight to protect our lineage. You will carry that burden with you. You are as much our kin as any who carries our blood.”

Draerios moved to the side to allow Neiran past. With a hasty bow, Neiran sidled past his uncle, letting out the breath he had been holding while his uncle bore down on him.

“Boy. You never answered. Where are you off to?”

Neiran closed his eyes, taking a breath before turning around. It was pointless to lie. Whether or not he told Ravonaar, Neiran doubted he would have long before Abraxas came looking for him.

“I’m off to the village, uncle. I’m going to see my friend and thank her again for my birthday gift. We might go down to the docks to see our friend at the pub. I’ll be back before it gets dark.”

Draerios nodded and waved him away. Neiran bowed once more, then made his way down the hall and out the doors to the courtyard. He narrowed his eyes. Everyone was always questioning his every move. He was only 15, and his father never seemed to age. Neiran wasn’t particularly worried about learning the nuances of court life, and he doubted he would need them soon. The country was in a shaky time of peace, but it was peace nonetheless.

Neiran walked down the stone path that led to the village. It was quiet today—not unusual, since it was still winter and the trade ships weren’t making the trek across the icy sea. Everything would start to pick up soon; the snow was already melting, and the ice was breaking up around the harbor.

Neiran made his way up the stone steps to Vierna’s door. Her father’s forge was quiet, and he couldn’t hear any movement from inside the house. He rapped twice on the wooden door. No one answered.

He waited a few moments and then knocked again. Trying the handle, he found it was locked. Neiran frowned. Vierna hadn’t mentioned anything about going away. Maybe Gil would know something.

Neiran waited a few more seconds, straining his ears to pick up any activity inside the house. When he heard nothing, he turned to head down to the docks to see Gil. He was greeted at the pub by warmth and silence. As his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, he saw Kat sitting at a table with Gil. As he made his way over to them, Gil glanced up at him and nudged his mother.

“Neiran!” Kat stepped around the table and wrapped him in a hug. “You’re alright.”

“Of course I am. Why?” He looked at Gil, who regarded him in silence. “What’s happened?”

Kat ushered him into a chair and headed to the kitchen. As she came back with a mug of cider, Gil cleared his throat.

“To be honest, we aren’t exactly sure. Last night, some time after you and Vierna left, it felt…wrong in town. Made me real uneasy. Everyone felt it. All the customers got real quiet. We were all lookin’ round to see what happened. Ma went to check outside. It was pitch black. We couldn’t even see the moon.”

“The whole town was quiet.” Kat shuddered. “Nothing made a sound. No animals, no crickets. No stars. Everyone was too frightened to leave. We have almost the whole town holed up in our rooms. We’ve heard nothing from your father…we feared the worst.”

Gil patted his mother’s shoulder, then turned to Neiran. “Did anything happen at the castle? Did you feel anything at all?”

Neiran eyed his friends. His father had expressly forbidden him to speak of the shadow, but the town had felt it too. No one at the castle felt it, though—no one except Neiran.

Neiran looked into his cider. “Did anyone see anything?”

“No, like I said. Pitch black. We couldn’t see anything if we had wanted to.”

“I saw…something. In the castle, before the party. I would advise you to not repeat any of this. I spoke to my father about what I had seen; how it made me feel. He knew something about what I had seen. I’m sure of it. We also had an unexpected guest that night…a woman came. She was heavily wounded, but I’ve no idea who she was, nor if the two incidents are related in any way.”

“What did you see?”

Neiran glanced at Kat. “A shadow. Kind of. It seemed more…solid than a shadow. But I couldn’t see it if I looked straight at it. It was the strangest thing. And it made me feel uneasy, like you said. Almost afraid, but not quite. Just…odd.”

Gil nodded. “That’s how we felt. It was nothin’ like I’d felt before. Have you talked to Vierna? We haven’t seen her since she left that night.”

“I went to her house, but it seemed like no one was there. The door was latched shut, and I don’t have my key on me.”

“I do.” Gil pushed himself up from the table. “Vierna gave me a key as well. Her father oft forgets to cook, so Ma sends me with food. One moment.”

As Gil left to retrieve the key, Neiran looked at Kat. She looked exhausted, but whether that was from fear or sleep, Neiran couldn’t tell. “I’ll talk to my father about this. He needs to know it’s affecting his people.” He placed a hand over Kat’s. “Don’t worry, Kat. I won’t let anything happen to you. If need be, I can have the townspeople moved to the castle. We have the room. And if the town is unsafe…”

“Thank you, Neiran.” She smiled at him. “You’ve always been a good lad.”

“Ready, then?” Gil pulled on his cloak and stood by the door. He smiled at his mother. “I’ll be back soon Ma.”

Neiran gave Kat a quick hug, and headed out into the cold with Gil.