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  AETHIR

  Chronicles of the Dark Sword Book Two

  By DeWayne M Kunkel

  Copyright © 2011 by DeWayne M. Kunkel

  All rights reserved

  For my family the sword was forged.

  DMK

  “Within humility there is strength.”

  Tal’shear Proverb

  Chapter One

  The town of Parin lay within a sheltered valley that opened up onto the sea at its northern end. Small brick houses roofed with dark slate stood crowded together amid a scattering of towering pines. Windows were few and fitted with shutters to protect against the fury of the storms that would often come in from the sea.

  Beyond the houses, a fleet of boats tied to rickety piers rocked slowly with the incoming tide. There were many types from large Merchant ships to small fishing skiffs draped with drying nets. The light of the setting sun cast long shadows across the tranquil waters of the bay. Reflecting brightly from the polished brass fittings on the gently swaying masts.

  They led their weary mounts down the shallow slope towards the town. The grass beneath their feet was wet from the light rain that had fallen earlier.

  Casius inhaled the cold air deeply. It had been a long time since he had tasted the salty air of the sea. It reminded him of his home, awakening the sense of loss he had buried so long ago.

  Leaving the thick grass they stepped out onto the muddy track that served as the towns main thoroughfare. No wall surrounded the village; only a few rickety fences and barking dogs greeted them as they entered the town. The smells of burning wood and coal permeated the air, cast off by the smoking chimneys of the houses. Occasionally they would catch the glimpse of a face peering out one of the windows as they passed.

  They had not gone far when a group of men stepped out of the shadows to bar their way. There were six of them, fishermen by their dress and the deep tan of their faces. They were armed with clubs fashioned from pine.

  Connell stepped forward and looked the men over casually. “It has been a few years since I last visited Parin.” He said addressing the largest of them. “Never has this towns hospitality faltered, why does it do so now.”

  The large man wet his lips nervously, he had seen Connell’s sword and was wary. “These are dangerous times friend,” He said softly. “Dark riders and giant hounds roam the countryside, Morne some say,” his voice lowered to whisper. “They be doing some terrible things to those caught out of doors after nightfall.”

  “It is worse than you know,” Connell replied. “There are Rock Trolls about as well.”

  The man’s eyes widened and he looked at his club suddenly aware at how useless it was. “We need to tell the headman of this, when did you last see such a beast?”

  “In the forest,” Connell answered. “A few days past.”

  The man stepped back as if Connell carried the plague. “You are either a liar or extremely stupid.” He stammered. “That wood is no place to tread lightly.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Connell said with a smile. “Stay clear of the wood, a monstrous horror stalks those dark paths.”

  “What is your name?” The man asked.

  “When I last walked these streets I was known as the eagle of Kesh.” Connell replied.

  The man’s eyes narrowed, “One would be well advised to think carefully before making such a claim.”

  “Be that as it may,” Connell said with a slight shrug. “It is true nonetheless.”

  Something in Connell’s eyes convinced the man that he had spoken truly. With a wave of his hand he motioned his men to stand aside. “Will you be staying long?” He asked.

  “Only as long as I have a need,” Connell said passing the men. Looking over his shoulder to his companions he pointed to the waterfront. “I know of an inn nearby, the beds are bug free and its roof sound.”

  Suni passed the men, his almond eyes matching their stares until they looked away. To them the Anghor Shok was a man the likes of which these fishermen had never seen.

  The inn was a sprawling two-story affair constructed of weathered brick and crumbling mortar hidden beneath a cloak of rich ivy. From its roof twin chimneys trailed smoke into the air carrying with it the heady aroma of freshly baked bread.

  As they entered the small yard two boys rushed out to take their horses to the stables behind the inn. Shouldering their gear they entered into the welcoming warmth of the inn’s common room.

  The room was spacious and furnished with mismatched chairs and tables, none of which looked very new. A haze of wood smoke hung in the air. Coming from a large hearth of stone in which a cheery fire blazed, driving out the cold dampness of the day.

  A bar fashioned from rough-hewn planks and old kegs ran the length of the room. Patrons stood along its length drinking from tankards of crudely worked tin. All conversation stopped as D’Yana and Suni entered.

  “Well now!” A large man in a stained apron shouted from behind the bar. “Welcome to the Fouled net,” He said with a bow. “The finest inn in all of Parin.” He squeezed his sizable bulk through a narrow opening in the bar and fairly trotted across the room to stand before them. “I am Redeff, owner of this fine hostel.”

  “Master Redeff,” Marcos said politely. “We would require three rooms if any are available.”

  Redeff’s chest swelled with pride at the title Marcos had bestowed upon him. He indicated an open doorway opposite the hearth. “There be the stairs, take any room you like. With both the weather and water being foul I have no other guests, save these fishermen who come to drink when the seas are too rough to ply their trade.”

  Marcos smiled and pressed three gold Talens into the man’s pudgy hand. “See that our mounts are well cared for, they have served us well and are in need of rest.”

  Redeff stared in amazement at the coins in his hand and quickly stuffed them into his pants pocket. He looked at Marcos and his eyes widened further, the rosy color of his cheeks fading. “Wou…would you require any thing else?” He stammered unable to look away from Marcos’s eyes.

  “A bath and a hot meal,” D’Yana said brushing at the dirt caked onto her clothing.

  “Why of course,” Redeff said finally able to break the hold Marcos’s gaze had upon him. “I’ll have water heated at once.”

  It was well after nightfall when Casius descended the rickety stairs and entered the smoky haze of the common room. He had soaked in the wooden tub until the skin on his fingers had wrinkled and the hot water had cooled. The grime of the trail was gone from his skin, and even the foulness lingering from the Ma’ul’s power was cleansed.

  He rubbed his chin, the skin still burned slightly. He was glad that the Ka’rich given him by Urbas, had proven to be sharp enough to remove the annoying stubble of a beard that had begun to grow these last few weeks. It seemed a lifetime ago when he had been given the small knife. He had traveled much since that day.

  At a table by the bar sat Connell and Marcos, the ever-present Suni stood in the corner nearby his eyes flicking from patron to patron. Many of the men were busy finding something in their drinks to stare at as the Anghor Shok’s gaze passed over them.

  Grabbing a tankard from the bar, Casius took a seat opposite Connell. He waved his hand to clear a cloud of thick smoke from a pipe Marcos was smoking.

  “You certainly look much better,” Connell said in greeting.

  Casius took a long pull from the tankard, grimacing at the bitterness of the drink. “Gah!” He exclaimed. “That’s Tart!”

  Connell laughed, “People in these parts are a bit hardier than most, they prefer their drink strong and bitter.” Connell drained his tankard and stood. “Come Casius,” he said motioning him to rise. “We’ve had scant opportunity to practice our swordsmanship this last week. We shou
ld both hone our skills a bit.”

  The last thing Casius wanted to do was swing that damned blade, but from the look Connell gave him he knew there was no way to avoid it. He took another swallow of the bitter ale and stood. “We’ll be back in a while,” He said taking his leave of Marcos.

  Marcos exhaled a stream of smoke and smiled around the pipe stem. “Enjoy your training, Connell’s a fine teacher.” He said. “I’ll just sit here and listen to the gossip from the bar. Perhaps I can glean something useful from it.”

  “You’ll get nothing more than tall tales told in the hopes of getting a free drink.” Casius said with a grin.

  “Possibly,” Marcos replied. “However stories do carry within them a small kernel of truth. The real trick is finding it.”

  “Happy kernel hunting then,” Connell said with a grin, pushing Casius towards the door.

  “Indeed,” Marcos replied drawing smoke from his pipe.

  Connell led Casius outside into the brisk evening air. They passed through the stable and stepped into an empty paddock that was dimly lit by lantern light from an open doorway.

  “A bit dark,” Casius commented while tossing his cloak over the fence rail.

  Connell added his own to the rail as well. “You wont often have the luxury of picking the time of an attack. You have to learn to fight in less than ideal conditions.” Connell stepped back and drew his sword.

  The metallic ring of Connell’s blade clearing the scabbard added to Casius’s apprehension. Not only was the paddock poorly lit, it was confining as well. Scarcely fifteen feet across at its widest, hardly enough room for the two men to maneuver.

  Drawing his razor sharp blade he circled about, keeping his guard up as he had been shown a hundred times before. The light of the lanterns reflected dully from the wavering steel.

  Connell edged into the darkest corner and attacked. His sword shot out of the gloom aimed for Casius’s heart.

  The ringing clash of their blades meeting broke the silence of the evening. Casius deflected the blow at the last instant. He sidestepped and forced Connell’s blade off to one side. He brought his sword around in a sweeping arc aimed for Connell’s abdomen.

  Connell’s sword intercepted the blow and both blades screeched along their lengths as he pushed them upward. “Nicely done.” He said pushing Casius away.

  For the better part of an hour they sparred, attacking and defending in a whirling dance of glittering steel. By the time they had finished Casius felt as if his arms were on fire.

  Suni stood within the stable doorway behind the inn keeps gawking sons. So intent were they on the mock combat that they had no idea the man was present.

  He watched the match with keen interest his dark eyes following the flickering blades.

  Connell deftly parried a flurry of attacks, he stepped back and raised his hand signaling an end to the practice.

  Casius sheathed his blade and leaned against the stable wall. Looking over his shoulder at the boys he noticed Suni.

  The Anghor Shok nodded his head and left the stable.

  Connell tossed Casius his cloak. “He’s been watching us for awhile.”

  “Why do I have a feeling he was sizing us up?” Casius asked throwing his cloak across his shoulders.

  “Because he was.” Connell answered approvingly. “Remember he is Marcos’s bodyguard above all else. He now has an idea of our prowess.”

  “But we are on his side?”

  “Are we?” Connell asked. “I have sworn no oath to protect his charge, and neither have you.” Connell led the way back into the stable. “Know your enemy and the battle is nearly won.”

  “At least he didn’t laugh.” Casius quipped not pleased with his performance.

  “Casius,” Connell said stopping him with a hand to his chest. “Your skill with the blade is improving at a remarkable pace. You are a natural swordsman; most men take years to learn what you master in weeks. If any thing I would say he was impressed.”

  “Somehow I do not think anything can impress that man.” Casius said with a laugh.

  “I speak truly.” Connell said firmly. “Even now I would say you are a match for that Raider G’relg in a fair fight.”

  “Raiders seldom fight fair Connell.”

  “No they don’t,” Connell said with a wicked grin. “But neither will we, starting tomorrow I will begin to teach you the shadowy side of swordplay.”

  Casius stopped as they crossed the yard. “Connell,” He said drawing the man’s attention. “Why did you tell the men in the street your name? Are you not concerned that the Senatum will come here?”

  “The Senatum would never dare enter Parin unless they had great numbers.” Connell answered. “Archers on the rooftops under the cover of darkness are an effective means of ridding a town of unwelcome guests.”

  “Then the Senatum have no hold here?”

  Connell shook his head. “They will come if the need is great, But in doing so they run the risk of starting another rebellion. Many of the men here fought in the first rebellion at my side. If I had not identified myself, those men would have attempted to turn us aside.”

  Casius nodded in understanding. “Then you have enlisted the protection of these men without asking for it?”

  “Only for a short time,” Connell answered with a nod. “I know a ships captain who will aid us if asked. He will seek us out once word of my arrival has spread. Hopefully we will be away from Lakarra soon enough.”

  “Then you have decided to pursue this quest with Marcos then?” Casius asked surprised by Connell’s change of heart.

  “At first I thought D’Yana had led us to a mad man.” Connell said with a grin. “Now I have come to believe that Marcos has spoken the truth, in his own way he has opened my eyes to the horrors that face us. We have both seen things that I had once believed to be nothing more than myths from ages long past. Now I know them to be true, as Marcos has said we cannot hide from what is coming. I for one will stand and fight, perhaps we can make a difference.”

  “We?” Casius asked.

  “That is if you choose to tag along.”

  “Somehow I knew this was going to happen.” Casius said with a slight shrug. “Where you go I’ll follow.”

  Connell stepped up onto the porch. “I want to see my home once more Casius. I have been gone too long.” He said before opening the door.

  Casius understood Connell’s feelings all too well. He missed his own home but unlike Connell he knew there was nothing left for him to return too. He swallowed deeply forcing back the upwelling grief.

  They entered the common room and Connell’s back stiffened as he saw a figure seated in the room’s far corner. “Word travels fast,” He muttered.

  A large man wearing stained leather trousers and a heavy wool sweater. His hair was a knotted mass of gray with hints of black at his temple. His face was wind burned and etched by deep lines giving him a permanent glower. Beneath bushy snow-white brows his eyes twinkled in the gloom.

  “I’ll be damned.” The old sailor muttered. He came to his feet and gave Connell a warm embrace. “Took your time coming back boy.”

  “It is good to see you Shane.” Connell grunted breaking free of the old mans grip.

  The old man nodded and returned to his seat. “Connell it is not safe here. The whole Senatum is out for your hide.”

  “I have to leave Lakarra, the sooner the better.”

  The old man lifted his half full tankard and swirled the contents about. “The oceans rough this time of year. More so than usual and safe passage is far from guaranteed.”

  “I know of no other I would trust with the crossing.” Connell said with a smile.

  Shane finished his drink and waved for more. “Just you and your companion?”

  “There are three others, five in all with horses as well.”

  The captain leaned back in the chair. “My ship will suffice.”

  “I am most grateful Shane.” Connell said thankfully.
r />   “The sooner we get you out of here the better.” Shane continued. “The ship will leave ere first light.” The old seaman stood and gripped Connell’s hand in parting. “I have much work to finish tonight before we set sail, we’ll catch up on the trip.” Shane took a step to the door and stopped. “You still riding that damned demon from Kesh?” At Connell’s answering smile he added. “Then you load him.”

  Connell laughed. “I will,” He reassured the man.

  “I’ll never understand why you would keep such a foul tempered beast.” Shane muttered as he left the Inn.

  “Our good Captain I presume?” Marcos said coming across the room to join them.

  “You don’t miss much, do you Marcos?” Casius asked.

  “He’s rough at the edges but a finer sailor you’ll not find in these waters.” Connell answered pushing a chair out with his foot for Marcos.

  D’Yana entered the room and came to join them at the table where they were discussing the upcoming voyage.

  “I’ve never been on a ship before.” D’Yana said with some regret. “Is it true what they say about eating light before setting sail?”

  “Yes.” Both Connell and Casius answered at the same time.

  “There is a good chance that you will catch the sea sickness.” Connell continued. “The less you eat now, the less you will have to toss up once the ship starts rocking.”

  “Wonderful,” D’Yana said rolling her eyes. “And just how long does this sickness last?”

  “Sometimes it will linger for the whole trip.” Connell replied cheerfully. “Then again it may only last a day or two, or you may not get sick at all.”