Curse of The Seventh Sword: The Gauntlet of Feona (16 page)

Oh Feona, thank you. 

Feona threw her hands up in exasperation. 

“Shall we go
Jaynea?”  She said amidst chuckles from Jaynea. 

Down on the ground, amidst the cheers,
Baximus had taken Matilom aside. 

“Certain things weigh heavy on my mind wizard.”

“What things?”  Matilom asked, knowing the answer to his question.

“It’s about
Davydd.”

“Ask away
Baximus…”

“No lies.  I deserve to kn
ow.”

The wizard nodded and
Baximus returned the gesture. 

“I’ll
begin by asking this.  Where is Davydd’s mother?”

The guard walked up a
flight of stairs wide enough for two lines of alternating human traffic to walk through.  The walls on either side were aligned with torches to illuminate the way.  Once the guard had reached the top of the stairs, he waited for another guard to walk up to him.  They both made eye contact and acknowledged each other.  The second guard continued on his way, patrolling the upper level of the castle.  The first guard waited till he was sure the second was out of sight before continuing along the walkway, turning right unto another walkway that led up to two large doors at its end.  There was no other guard on this pathway.  The guard broke out into a run, eventually leaping off the side of the walkway, through one of the spaces between the pillars in the walkway, and unto the wall that encompassed the outer castle layer.  Suddenly, the guard’s body began to transform and disfigure until it assumed the shape of a lizard like creature; a dragol.  The transformation ripped most of the attire to shreds and twisted the metallic plates of the armor off.  The dragol pulled itself up quietly to the window of the room with the huge doors and peeked inside.  The room was dark, save for the wash of moonlight that illuminated an area of the floor near the window the dragol hung from.  However, the light was enough to partially reveal the figure of a man lying on the bed, with his back to the window.  He was covered in bed sheets and part of his exposed gray locks of hair fell on the bed, behind him.  The dragol silently slithered its way inside the room, and swiftly meandered its way on all fours to the man’s bedside.  The dragol got up on its hind legs and stared at the man for a brief moment.  Then it struck, using its claws to rip through the figure halfway.  The bed splintered and broke under the force of the blow and wood scattered everywhere.  There was no blood, no torn flesh or broken bones.  For a moment, the dragol stood still.

“Oh yes.” 
A voice said from the corner of the room to the right of the window.

“That’s
how the king of Beathaleth dies.  Is it not the way it was meant to be?”  The figure who owned the voice, stepped into the wash of moonlight and it revealed his face.  He was an aged man who looked to be in his early sixties, judging by his wrinkles.  His face still conveyed the boisterous strength of his former youth and his brown eyes gleamed with excitement and intensity.  He had a short beard which started as a moustache lining his upper lip and then connecting with his lower jaw beard around his mouth area.  The beard was black with a few streaks of gray here and there.  His hair on the other hand, had more than a few streaks of gray.  His bushy eyebrows completed his grumpy look, further accentuated by the scowl which was currently across his face.

“…dragol”.  The king of Beathaleth said. 
The king smiled at the dragol’s increasing horror.  The dragol made to run but stopped as a sword was brandished in front of its face. 

“You can’t leave so s
oon distinguished guest.” The wielder of the sword said. 

“You just got here.” 

The wielder pivoted his sword so that the tip was facing the dragol’s neck.  He wore a crimson red hat with a black band around it and black feather.  Just as well, a black cloak covered the upper part of his torso.  Underneath that, he wore a crimson buttoned jacket, and black pants that were tucked into black leather boots. 

“
And to pay king Darius Vitalis a visit nonetheless.” He continued mockingly.

“So you see,
there is so much you must tell us before you go… or rather, before we let you leave.”

Other guards emerged from the darkness in the room
with swords and spears pointed at the dragol whose eyes were frantically darting from figure to figure, constantly coming to rest on king Vitalis. 

“
Make up your mind beast.” The sword wielder said.  His blade tip threatened to end the dragol’s life.  Suddenly the dragol whirled around; using its tail to knock the sword out of the wielder’s hand, simultaneously pushing him to the ground.  It leaped towards king Vitalis, but was impaled in the shoulder by one of the spear wielding guards.  The dragol howled loudly and leapt out the window it had come in from, bolting its way through the palace compound. 

“Give chase!” barked King Vitalis. 

“Sound the alarm bells and notify all guards of the dragol’s presence.  Do not kill it.  We need to capture it alive!”

“
Yes your majesty!!” The guards said in unison as they filed out.  The sword wielder had gotten back on his feet and retrieved his sword. 

“Obin.”  The king said, addressing the wielder. 

“My apologies your highness.  I let it escape.”

“It hasn’t escape
d yet.  See to it that it doesn’t.”

“At once
.” 

The king sighed deeply.

“Your highness?”  Obin asked out of curiosity.

“
It’s that troublesome Angwelethean wizard.  He’s always a harbinger of bad news.”

“He seems to b
e right most of the time your highness.”

“That he is
… unfortunately. Now go.”  With that, Obin leaped out of the window as well.  As he fell, he pointed his sword towards the ground.  At first nothing happened, and then seemingly out of nothing, a skeletal structure began to form rapidly, starting from the hoof upwards.  As it formed, so did the nerves, blood vessels and muscles.  Finally, the skin was formed just as Obin hit the horse’s back causing it to neigh.  He winced in pain from the impact.

“Not one of my best ideas.”  He said between
gnashed teeth.  With a quick pat on the side of the horse, he was off racing in the direction the dragol had gone.  The dragol was up ahead zigzagging its way through the streets of the castle’s compound in order to avoid the fusillade of arrows that were being sent its way.  It knew it had to get beyond the enormous walls of King Vitalis’s castle to have any chance of escape.  As the dragol leaped in the air, over one of the small buildings lining the street, an arrow struck its side.  The force of impact knocked it slightly off course, causing it to fall.  The dragol quickly got up and leaped over a sword slash by one of the Beathalethean soldiers.  As he pivoted in mid air, it reached out and slashed at the face of the soldier that had attacked him, nearly ripping it off.  The soldier fell to the ground as the dragol landed back on its feet.  No sooner had it landed than it was dodging swipes by two other guards, and backing into the wall of the building it had tried to leap over.  The dragol bent down low to avoid swipes from both sides and used its tail to take the guards feet from under them.  As he moved in for the kill, he was impaled in the abdomen by another arrow from the archers who moved in tandem with the other soldiers in their pursuit of it.  The dragol howled in pain and leaped on top of the building.  The soldiers gave chase on the ground while the dragol leaped from roof top to roof top.  A guard who had climbed up onto one of the rooftops jumped out in front of the dragol and attempted to stab it in the chest, but he was quickly and brutally mauled with claws and teeth.  The dragol picked up the guard’s long sword. 

“Where is he?” shouted a soldier.

“I don’t see him!”  A second soldier replied.

“He must still be on the ro
oftops.  Get up there and check!”  The first soldier barked.

“Do you see anything?”
The second soldier asked another on the rooftop.

“No
.  But there is a pool of blood here.”  The soldier on the rooftop responded. 

“Well get down here.  Help us look for him.  We must take him alive.”

The soldier on the rooftop nodded and began climbing down after the first soldier who had climbed up.  The first soldier had already headed off in another direction, in search of the dragol.  As the other two soldiers continued searching for the dragol, the soldier who had been on the rooftop began to slowly unsheathe his sword.  He began walking faster, gaining ground on the first.  When he was right behind him he lifted up his sword and stabbed down.  The clang of metal startled the second soldier who looked behind him to see Obin blocking the other soldier’s sword.

“Wh… why?”
The second soldier asked.

“Why?” Obin
asked.  “This man you see here is the dragol we are looking for.  Blenders they are called, but this one is an alpha blender… a stronger breed.  Blenders are the weakest of the dragol but one of the most lethal if you ask me.  They can turn into any being they come in contact with or kill and they can become invisible or change the color of their skin to match their surroundings.  Very smart creatures they are.”

“My Lynda!” The soldier exclaimed.

“Ah… exactly.” Obin concurred.  “Retreat for now soldier.”

“What? My lord I cannot possibly…”

“Soldier… if you stay here, this thing will kill you or if you are lucky, you’ll kill it out of fear.  I have our majesty’s orders to bring it back alive.  Now retreat.  You’ll only hinder me.”  Obin said as he continued to push back on the dragol’s sword. 

“Y…yes my lord.”  The soldier retreate
d and began to convey Obin’s wishes to the rest of the pursuing soldiers.  Obin turned to the dragol, still in the guise of the soldier he had killed. 

“Now then.  Shall we begin?” 

The dragol reached back and swung down with sword in hand.  Despite being in the guise of the soldier, the beastly strength was still very much there.  The ground in which Obin had stood was cracked by the blow of the sword.  The dragol had instantly launched into a thrusting attack but Obin sidestepped the attack and swung horizontally with his sword, flat face first towards the dragol’s neck.  Obin’s sword was an unusually shaped one.  It started out at standard length but widened all the way to the tip which was at an angle, as the cutting side was longer than the dull side.  Therefore the top of the sword blade was slanted.  Also, through the length of the sword, were five small holes in the center of the blade that glowed with a bluish-white magical energy and left a streak of said colors in the wake of the blade, whenever he swung.  The dragol had managed to avoid Obin’s counter attack and swung with its tail, which it had temporarily released, at Obin.  Obin moved in close to the dragol, to escape the impact of the loose part of the tail.  He used his sword handle and left hand to parry what would have been a quick succession of fatal blows by the dragol’s temporarily released left claw.  Obin backed into the dragol and yanked him by the neck, twisting him over his shoulder, and slamming him forcefully on the ground.  His foot came down forcefully towards the beast’s head, but the dragol rolled out of the way, and pushed itself back up to its feet just in time to avoid the follow up swipe of Obin’s sword that would have surely lacerated its stomach.  The dragol made to take a swing of his, but Obin parried and made a dash for the dragol’s left side.  Before the dragol could react, Obin had slashed through its left torso and also down on its left thigh.  The dragol fell to one knee, but staggered back up as it oscillated between his true form and the form of the guard it had last killed. 

“It is getting harder to keep up appearances isn’t it?”

The dragol glared at Obin as they both slowly encircled each other.  Obin observed the dragol and noticed its arrow wounds, including the ones he had just inflicted.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to lay down your sword and give in?  Why go through more pain?
”

“To let myself be captured by a mere human? 
The thought repulses me.”  The dragol said, settling on assuming its original form.  It launched itself at Obin.

“I’m glad it does.” Obin said as he tilted his hat lower on his head and began to outmaneuver the dragol, while negating all its attacks.  Obin moved swiftly, and seemingly effortlessly.  He was deceptively fast for being a fair
ly tall and yet muscular man. His strength was unquestioned.  The dragol was panicking and Obin could tell.  He smiled as he quickly parried three swipes by the dragol and opened up a gash in its chest before it could react.  The dragol staggered forward and made to attack again, but froze when it saw the glowing essence from Obin’s sword brighten and pulsate.  The holes in the blade suddenly fired energy beams at the dragol, knocking it to the ground instantly.  The dragol made to get up but could not move.  Its entire body seemed to be paralyzed and throbbed in pain.  When it looked up, it could see that the tip of Obin’s blade was pointed in between its eyes. 

“You will pry out no words of importance from me.”
  The dragol said defiantly.

“Humans don’t need to h
ear the words of a pathetic lizard.  There are other ways to know what is necessary.  But, before we begin, I have one question for you.  How repulsed are you now?” 

King Sidion Vror sat in the all too familiar secret meeting room with the all too familiar dragol principals and his trusted death class soldier, Trudor.  However, there was one stark difference to this meeting.  A chair was noticeably vacant. 

“
Two moons ago, Balek stated that he sensed the Miljorn aura around you.”  Viritania said.   “We sent him to confirm this, and to exterminate Rikard Miljorn’s offspring.  Balek was instead, killed by this… Davydd Miljorn as you call him.”

“It was an unfortunate circumstance.” Sidion Vror said almost exasperated.  The truth
was he secretly rejoiced at the death of Balek.  The fewer principals there were to deal with, the better.  Besides, he never did like Balek.  Not that he liked any of the dragol, but Balek was an especially obnoxious dragol.  What shocked him was the fact that Davydd had actually managed to kill a dragol, and not just any dragol.  He had taken down a principal.  The last time any human did that was two decades and three years ago, when Rikard Miljorn single-handedly defeated three.  And the last time before that?  Well… it had never been done before that.