A Warrior's Path Page 26

  One of the poor creatures was sprawled upon the ground, a deep wound in its side. Another limped along the side of the campsite, blood flowing down its front leg. The mood quickly went from tense to somber. The situation had so suddenly turned out of their favor, and though they all felt there was much more that could be learned, they knew it would be too dangerous. As they headed back to the east with their remaining horses in tow and the moon sinking low behind them, they prepared themselves for a wearying journey. They knew it might be a while before they would actually have a restful night.

  * * *

  “They sneaked off in the night without my permission! I've lost two good men, and another will probably not be fit to fight for the rest of his life! And for what? Nothing! It was a wasted adventure that ended in disaster!”

  Vethisir continued raving, as he had been for the past ten minutes, pacing to and fro before Orbein's throne. The surviving members of said adventure were standing behind him, hanging their heads. Certainly it was an unfortunate incident, but the general had a flair for the dramatic, especially for anything that involved Agucho and Laernus. Vethisir was furious, and he wanted retribution.

  “And you!” he shouted at the shapeshifter. “Coward! You stood in the distance and watched my men get slaughtered! You deserve punishment more than any of them. At least the wizard actually fought his enemy, while you lurked like the scum that you are!”

  Agucho hissed and shouted back, “Bite your tongue, fool! You were not there; you could not possibly know what happened. That witch with the bow was an elf! Had I approached, she would have shot me down where I stood.”

  “And better off we would all be if she had,” Vethisir replied easily.

  The sound of a metal blade sliding against a sheath silenced the room. King Orbein pointed his dagger at the general and the shapeshifter. “I will gladly decide this argument for both of you. Unless, of course, you would all like to shut up,” he said evenly. He stood and stepped down from the dais and gave them all an unsettling grin.

  “It seems that none of you have been paying attention lately,” Orbein continued. “So, allow me to refresh your memories as to my aspirations. Our great city rose from the ashes of destruction rained down upon us by the very people we are descended from. Our ancestors abandoned us to the refuse left over from their greedy exploits. Now I have deemed that the time has come to reclaim our home of old and find the empire that had forsaken us so long ago. You see, this is a sign. It is an omen that our desires are vindicated.”

  The king went on, but as if talking to himself, “Strange people wander into our land; where did they come from? Over the mountains is the only logical answer. Our foes come to show us their mettle. Very well then, we will rise to the challenge. Vethisir!”

  “Yes, highness,” the general replied, a bit fearful of the gleam that shone brightly in his king's eyes.

  “Ready your men.”

  “When do we march, sir,” Vethisir asked.

  “That all depends. Agucho, when can your reinforcements get here?” Orbein asked with another devious grin.

  The Fiu-Het shifted nervously. “No more than a week, highness,” he said timidly.

  Orbein spun on the shapeshifter with a scowl, gesturing with his dagger. “Is there a problem?”

  “The elves are a dangerous foe, sire,” Agucho answered.

  “Which is why we will need your help,” the king explained on no uncertain terms. “Go now,” he added to the rest of them.

  Everyone turned to leave. “Except you.” Orbein pointed at Laernus.

  The others filtered out slowly, looking over their shoulders at the seer with something resembling pity. For several moments after they left, a cacophonous silence pervaded the entire throne room. Orbein stared at the wizard, and Laernus simply stared forward in response. When the king finally broke the silence, it nearly startled the both of them.

  “You've made quite a reputation for yourself in Vethisir's army,” Orbein scoffed.

  “Thank you, highness,” Laernus said blandly.

  The king laughed coldly. “Yes, I suppose I am the one to thank. I put you there.”

  The seer badly wanted to interject that it was Agucho's idea to send him to Ionotu, but he simply nodded instead. He had finally learned better than to contradict the king.

  “And now,” Orbein continued, “here you are. One of the first to engage the enemy. Really, the architect of the whole situation. It was your plan to go out and find them, was it not?”

  “Yes, sir,” Laernus replied quickly.

  Orbein nodded. “Because you foresaw their coming?”

  “Yes,” was the seer's reply.

  The king shook his head slowly. “Tell me why, Laernus, why, when such a morsel of information would have overjoyed me greatly, did you deny such insights to me when I sought your counsel?”

  The wizard likewise shook his head. “I cannot control everything that is shown to me. Patience must be employed by those seeking to know the future, especially to know those things far in the future. To force it would be like trying to change the shape of clouds.”

  His explanation was met with an inscrutable squint from the king. “You should know by now that I have no such patience,” he said. “Which is why I think it is better that you work unexpectedly from within the ranks of Vethisir's men, and with Agucho. The battle is no longer so far in the future, and I'm sure more fruitful information will come to you. But this time, if you foresee something, you will report it to me immediately.”

  Laernus had to try hard to stifle a grin. “Yes, sir,” he said with enthusiasm.

  Orbein stared at him for a few moments longer, then dismissed him.

  The seer gladly returned to the ranks of Vethisir's army; he was even excited. The battle was about to be underway, and soon he and Agucho would make their play for freedom. When he got out to the field, he could hardly hear the general barking out orders over the fantasies that played out in his mind’s eye. But even with that distraction and the constant activity of getting ready for the journey through the mountains, the week seemed interminable. On the fifth day since he spoke with the king, the sky darkened with thick clouds of flying creatures. He nearly fainted with excitement.

  They rained out of the sky by the hundreds, landing in neat formations on the field next to Vethisir's stunned troops. The soldiers watched agape as two thousand shapeshifters transformed, mid-landing, into their native Fiu-Het appearance. A few men with less willpower ran screaming from the field, terrified at the volumes of creatures they had thus far only seen one at a time. Most of them, however, stood frozen in horror or uncertainty. Some of them were reassured by the arrival of their king, but the majority couldn't help but fear that their doom was near.

  Orbein rode onto the field on a heavily-armored black war horse. He truly looked regal and terrible astride the powerful animal. Both human and Fiu-Het marveled at the sight of him, and he basked in the attention. He looked out over the lines of soldiers, his soldiers, before him. Never before in his rule had he felt so powerful as this.

  “Defenders of my kingdom!” Orbein called out with an unnatural, booming echo. “Hear me! We stand now upon the precipice of destiny. One step will bring us to doom or glory. It is up to us to decide which it will be. Our enemy in the east has made the first strike against us, showing that they desire this meeting as much as we do. And as they desire it, so shall we bring it to them!

  “Now is the time for you to stand with me, man and shapeshifter, to defend our homes that the ambitious men of the east do not overrun us as they have in the past. Let us bring the fight to them, and when they are dead or cowed at our feet, let us take back the lands of our ancestors. Believe not in fate, except that which we will make for ourselves. Believe in the fate that we design and take up in our hands with our swords! Believe in our victory!”

  Seven thousand soldiers of Ionotu rose up in a riotous cheer at this climax of Orbein's speech. They were worked into frenzy at his words
and looked as though they were ready to march to war. The shapeshifters did not seem to share their enthusiasm. They stood quietly, regarding the humans with queer expressions.

  The king rode toward the Fiu-Het ranks, stopping beside Agucho, who also seemed both awed and repulsed by their allies' reaction. “Say something to them,” Orbein commanded.

  Agucho stared at the king blankly for several moments before shrugging. “Very well,” he said.

  The hunched shapeshifter ambled forward, away from the horse that was so many times larger than he, and held up his hands. “Hearken, brothers and sssisters!” As he called out, the serpentine hiss in his voice was quite evident and the whole field went silent as even the humans listened closely to the series of hisses and gurgles that came forth from his mouth.

  “As I have told you all before,” Agucho began in his own tongue, “we are here today for so many reasons, not the leassst of which is our own protection. We stand now beside the great army of this king ssso that, like them, we can prevent the same kind of aggression that they fear. I need not remind you of our dear prince Gayossha, and his fate out here, serving our people. In Gayossha's last words he revealed to me his killer. On the field of battle I will find that man for you, and when I command, you will kill him and all that follow him without quessstion. We will not be caught unawares, and we will have our vengeance!”

  These words, while meaningless to Vethisir's men, roused a great reaction in the Fiu-Het. The roles of moments ago were reversed. The soldiers of Ionotu were terrified at the insane looks of glee upon the already frightening faces of the shapeshifters.

  Orbein motioned to Vethisir, who ran over immediately. “Sound the march,” he said to the general and Agucho.

  “Yes, sire,” Vethisir said, giving a proud salute to his king. He turned and called out to his soldiers and began to set a rapid pace to the southeast.

  As the great training field of Ionotu emptied of human soldiers, Agucho bellowed out orders for the shapeshifters to follow quickly. He was pleased that the march was beginning with the humans taking up the lead, but he knew that before they met with any violence, many of his own people would find themselves in that unenviable position. He shook the thought away and concentrated on the road ahead. Many things were about to transpire that he knew would be for the best. It was likely that he was sacrificing many of his people, but he understood that it was necessary to avoid an even worse outcome later. The shapeshifter urged on the soldiers with sincere enthusiasm. They were reaching toward their destiny and grasping fate. The march had begun.

  16. Change of Plans

  A single pole stood about man-height on the south side of the circle in which the familiar meditation stone lay. The pole was capped with a large metal ring, over which was stretched the hide of some animal. Urietsin was in his typical seat upon the boulder, facing the pole. His attention was on the feather that hung in the air before his gaze.

  He was already in a deeply meditative state, concentrating as intensely as he could upon the tiny piece of down. His spirit was as intimately linked with it as it was with his own body. He felt every barb as an extension of himself, and he was completely aware of every molecule that made it up. Focusing on those miniscule building blocks, he pulled them into tight formation, just as he would flex his biceps.

  The feather reacted instantly to this manipulation. Every little tendril, right down to each barbule that protruded from its surface, straightened out perfectly and spread apart equidistant from one another. When it was done, the feather resembled something more crystalline, like a spherical snowflake. Unlike a snowflake, this crystal would not so easily melt or break.

  Controlled by the Swift One, the feather-crystal began to turn, slowly at first, but then faster. It twisted and turned this way and that, faster and faster until it blurred into a flawlessly rounded ball. There it hovered in front of Urietsin, looking like a tiny marble hanging motionlessly in thin air.

  Suddenly, it was gone. It simply seemed to disappear. Urietsin shifted the focus of his physical eyes to the ring-capped pole. The hide that was stretched over the ring now had a perfectly round hole directly in its center. Even though this had been his intention, the Swift One was still astounded by the effect. That something so small and soft as a feather could be transformed into a deadly accurate missile was amazing to him. Reigning in his excitement, he called to the feather, which was spinning somewhere just beyond the pole. It came to him instantly, and he stopped its impossibly fast rotation. As it levitated before him, he admired it briefly, then set it down in front of him on the boulder.

  Without even closing his eyes, Urietsin pulled his spirit back to himself and refocused his perception of the multiverse. Even from within the confines of his mortal coil, though, he could feel it out there. Infinity called to him, and he had become more and more aware of it as he spent these months here training. But infinity was a lot to be aware of, so Urietsin understood why he had to go back to the limited perceptions of his physical body. The stress of always perceiving existence in all of its form was far more than someone with his inexperience could handle. Indeed, the Swift One wondered if any amount of experience could prepare one for a lifetime of feeling everything.

  Urietsin looked down and blinked. The feather lay there before him, but still in its stiff, crystalline form. He reached down to pick it up and withdrew his hand quickly; it was quite sharp. More gently, the Swift One retrieved his creation and turned it over in his hands. Cupping it between his palms, he jumped up to go find Kiusu.

  Urietsin came upon his master while he was performing a slow and graceful routine that was meant to be a sort of moving meditation. He waited patiently as the skilled old man flawlessly stepped through each careful action. Soon the young student let the thoughts of his recent session slip way as he watched in awe the impeccable sweeping moves executed by the man. Like the waving of trees in the wind and the flutter of a butterfly's wing, his technique was flexible, powerful, and beautiful, the perfection of nature in motion.

  Kiusu finished the routine in a bow and stepped over to his student. He noticed the Swift One’s expression and asked, “What is it?”

  Urietsin bowed deeply. “I aspire to someday acquire a level of skill that even resembles your own,” he said humbly.

  “First step,” the old man replied quickly. “Do not be so quick to compare yourself to others. You should improve because you wish to be better than yourself, not some other man. Your best competition is within.”

  “Yes, seishin,” Urietsin said with another bow.

  Kiusu smiled. “How did you do today?”

  “Ah yes,” the young student grinned offering his creation up for inspection. “Take care, it is sharp,” he cautioned.

  The old man paused mid-reach to give Urietsin a curious look. He gingerly picked up the tiny crystalline object. Rolling it around in his hands, his expression shifted from curious to fascinated.

  “This is your feather?” he asked.

  Urietsin nodded.

  From no place that seemed apparent to the young warrior, Kiusu produced a small pouch and gently placed the crystal into it. He handed the pouch to his student. “Save it. At least as a memento of this day, for you seem to have truly mastered this lesson,” he congratulated with a bow.

  The Swift One returned the bow with an even deeper one. “Thank you, seishin.”

  “Which means...” the old man continued.

  Urietsin could not help but smile, “A new lesson?”

  Kiusu gave a slight nod, but one that indicated to his student that he was only half right. “Let us see you apply what you have learned,” the master said slyly.

  The Swift One began to inquire Kiusu as to his meaning when the old man suddenly flew at him with his fist extended. Urietsin barely dodged out of the way and turned to face his master. He understood clearly what was happening and took up a defensive posture. He gestured, inviting the next attack.

  That attack came on as a flurry of side
kicks to the Swift One's head. He backed away from each kick, stepping just far enough away as Kiusu hopped ahead, one deadly foot leading. After several kicks, Urietsin decided to put a stop to them. He reached up with his leading hand to snatch at Kiusu's foot as his leg fully extended, but that foot abruptly disappeared. Before the Swift One could comprehend what was happening, Kiusu had advanced forward and grasped his student's blocking hand and pulled it down. A quick punch to the chest had a startled Urietsin stumbling backward.

  The young student rubbed the spot where Kiusu had punched him and regarded his teacher with a bewildered expression. The old man was not paying attention. Urietsin had to duck as Kiusu sailed over his head with another kick. Clearly his master would not be pulling any of his punches during this match, or kicks for that matter. With this in mind, Urietsin rushed ahead to get on the offensive.

  His master was ready for him. The student launched a two punch combination, each strike flawlessly blocked by Kiusu. The front kick that Urietsin followed up with was no closer to hitting home. It was pushed downward with such force that the Swift One almost fell forward. Instead, he fell backward as his master continued down with the block and kicked up into a handstand that lasted only a moment as one of his feet smacked Urietsin in the face.

  Kiusu leapt back into a ready stance and looked down at his prone student. “Perhaps we should call you the not-so-Swift One,” he chuckled.

  Urietsin growled as he kicked up from the ground and landed, ready to defend not only his body, but also his pride. The old man's strikes came on in a whipping, whirling fury, and his footwork had him stepping in circles around his student, but Urietsin kept a shield of blinding defense with nothing more than his limbs. Every so often he would try to find even a tiny break in the unending stream of attacks to send an offensive move hurtling at his master, but no such opening could be found. Every time he thought he saw something, he would have to quickly turn his intended strike into a block.