DAWN OF THE PHOENIX Read online

  Strangely, she felt safe among this band of misfits. It was odd that such violent men gave her a sense of peace. She just wished she knew how long it would last.

  Endra thought her travels with the young mercenaries were over a few days ago. K’xarr had suggested a small village they came across in the Kingdom of Alarusia would be a good place for them to stay.

  It was small, but seemed very nice and the people friendly. Kian simply would not hear of it. The two had argued for over an hour, she could almost remember it word for word.

  “It’s a nice village. Kian, what’s the problem?”

  “Well, there is no wall and the village has no fighting men—farmers and sheep herders are all I see. Who would help her if they were attacked again?”

  K’xarr had pointed his finger in the half-elf’s face. “You don’t want them to go. Just admit it, you’re never going to think anywhere is safe for that wench and her litter. She has gotten to your little elven heart. I wish you would just own up to it.”

  “Not true, she is as good with a blade as any of us. I think you should ask her to join if she wants to. Aren’t you trying to build a mercenary company?”

  “I might consider it, if not for the brats. What should we do with them when we get a contract, buy ponies and let them ride into battle with us?”

  It had gone on and on until K’xarr threw up his hands and cursed Kian’s stubbornness. They had ridden on and left the village behind. Any fool could see the half-elf was infatuated with her, it was so obvious that even her children could tell.

  He had confessed nothing openly and she didn’t think he would. His actions and the way he looked at her with those green eyes of his revealed all she needed to know about his feelings.

  It was not that she found him unattractive, just the opposite. His elven features were very alluring, especially his long black hair, and no one but her parents had ever been as kind to her as he was.

  Kian was the first person of elven blood she had ever met. She had been taught like everyone else that elves were an inferior race and that half-elves were nefarious creatures, dimwitted and depraved. The whole world thought that way. She felt guilty because she had thought the same way too. It was what she had been taught as a child. Her father had told stories of half-breeds sneaking into villages and stealing babies to eat in their caves. Meeting Kian had changed all that.

  The troubling thing was she found herself very attracted to the half-elf. There was just something about him that spoke to her heart. It was foolish to ever think there could be anything between them, she was wanted and loaded down with children and he was…not human.

  Endra had been troubled by a lot of things of late, mainly the fact that she felt very at home with this strange band of men, even that brute Cromwell. The Torans had been less than kind to her when she had travelled down the Harsh Coast and she didn’t much care for the warlike race, but Cromwell seemed very different; he could be almost charming, in a crude and savage way.

  She had struggled on alone for years, never feeling the need for companionship before. Now she found herself enjoying the company of these coarse men. Her mother would have been aghast at the very thought of her youngest daughter going anywhere with these ruffians. Endra had never been much like her mother.

  They had finally come across the Gold Road. In all her travels, she had never seen it before. The road was twenty-feet wide and made from a sand-colored stone that was worn smooth with age. It was easy to travel on and a person could make good time in a wagon or on horseback.

  The only trouble for her was the fact that it was heavily traveled. Endra didn’t know how many merchants they had passed with their creaking carts, some empty and some so full of wares they were almost overflowing. She hoped traveling with a larger group would lessen the chance of anyone from the Church noticing them.

  When the group crossed into the Kingdom of Mirmoc, K’xarr said he wanted to head into the city of Largos to see if there was any work in the area and gather some news. Largos was a massive city and a wealthy one as well. Situated at the Gold Road's apex, Largos drew trade from all directions. Vandarus had told them that the city was so large that small communities had sprung up outside of the city walls.

  The city was still several days’ ride ahead. The countryside of Mirmoc was mild and the pasture land broken only by small wooded areas, hillocks, and the occasional lake or stream.

  The road was dangerous for all of them and they knew it. Endra was very worried they may come across more of the Hands of God looking for her and the children. K’xarr told her to trust him, he would keep them out of trouble. She hoped he could do just that. Trouble was the last thing she wanted.

  The Camiran reminded her of a wolf, cagey and ruthless. It was no secret that K’xarr didn’t really want them riding with him, but Endra had no doubt that he would do his best to see no harm came to them.

  The woman from Sorrack looked up. The sky was clouding up and the warm breeze had turned cool. It looked like it might rain.

  It had poured for two days and everything was soaking wet. Endra was just happy the weather was warm, it would be much worse if the rain was cold. K’xarr had the group start traveling by night as they got closer to the city. There were less people on the road after dark, and K’xarr thought it was less likely for them to run into any problems. They camped by day far enough off the road that they would not easily be seen, and they kept their cook fires small.

  The next few days were spent drying out and foraging for food. As the city of Largos came into sight, its large grey walls looked almost orange in the early morning light.

  K’xarr stopped them a few miles from Largos in a dried up creek bed surrounded by a small grove of trees.

  “Endra, you and Kian stay here with the children, you two stand out like a pair of beggars at a ball. I need to get some information and supplies, and we don’t need to get into any scrapes here. We will try to be back by tonight or early in the morning at the latest.”

  Endra nodded in agreement and Kian said nothing. The rest of the men followed K’xarr down the road toward the city.

  The children’s eyes were red-rimmed and Tressa was yawning every few minutes. Endra corralled them and laid them down to sleep in the shade of a willow tree. The little ones had done well adapting to sleeping during the day.

  The night had been a long one. Kian and Endra found a place to sit under the branches of a large oak tree, its leaves full and green after the hard rain. Endra thought the land around the little creek bed was a lovely spot. It would have been a good place to build a home or maybe a farm. The young woman knew she would never lead that kind of life, though sometimes she daydreamed about it.

  Endra was glad K’xarr and the others had left for the day. She wanted to talk to Kian alone, and this was the perfect chance. Endra had planned out what she was going to say, but her nerves were getting the better of her. So they sat in silence for a while.

  Her hands started sweating and she wiped them on her pants. Why was she so flustered? She needed to get this over with. She didn’t know when she would get another opportunity not have to worry about any unwelcome intrusions. It took a while for her to work up enough courage to do it, but finally the words came out.

  “Kian, I want you and I to be friends. I haven’t had a friend since I left my village and you have done more for me and the children in the short time we have been together than...well, anyone we have ever met.”

  Kian stared down the dry creek bed, watching two squirrels play under a walnut tree. “I’m already your friend, Endra. I thought you knew that.”

  She put her hand on his shoulder and Kian turned, looking into her eyes. It made her forget what she was going to say. For a moment, she wanted to kiss him and tell him she would like to be more than just his friend. What the hell was wrong with her? That could not happen under their circumstances. She had to stay focused.

  “I know that you would like more from me, but it cannot be. I will be leavi
ng soon and there are other reasons too, like…” She had no idea what she was going to say now. With him so close, she had forgotten everything.

  “Well, I just think we should be close friends, that’s all.”

  She wished he didn’t make her so tongue-tied. She had sounded like an idiot. Endra hoped that he didn’t think it had to do with what he was. Though she had been taught to view the whole elven race with contempt, Endra had found out for herself that they were no different than humans, at least Kian wasn’t.

  “I know what you are trying to say and I understand. I haven’t asked anything from you other than friendship and I had no intention of doing so. I’m sorry if something I have done caused you distress.”

  Kian stood up and started to walk away. “You should get some rest, Endra. I will take first watch.”

  She watched him walk up out of the creek bed to where he could have a good view of the road.

  Endra knew she had embarrassed and hurt him by blurting it out. She knew he was enamored with her. Then she exceeded that folly by telling him that she had no intention of returning those feelings. Endra thought about what she had said. Had she made it sound as if he was not worthy of her because of his race?

  She was such a fool. She should have kept her mouth shut. Kian never would have pushed her for anything other than friendship. Instead of making things better, she had made a mess of the whole thing.

  Endra didn’t know much about social etiquette, as she’d had little contact with people since her village had been destroyed. She always just followed what her heart told her and she was blunt for a woman. This time she hadn’t listened to her feelings and she had done the wrong thing. What she had said to Kian had been out of fear, but fear of what? Was it her own feelings she was afraid of?

  The rest of the day passed with little discussion. Both of them had napped. That night, they ate a quiet dinner of potatoes and dried meat.

  “Are you going to tell us a story tonight, Kian?” Tressa asked.

  “You must ask your mother.” Kian had gotten into the habit of telling the children stories to keep them entertained.

  “It’s my turn to say what story we want to hear,” Payton said firmly.

  “You are right, Payton, I believe it is you turn.” Kian looked at Endra for approval.

  Endra smiled. “I would like to hear one too, and I think it should be about you, Kian.” She sat down by the small fire with them.

  “Tell us how you became a warrior, Kian, that’s what I want to hear,” Payton said.

  "I will tell you about my master, if that’s okay?”

  “Was he a warrior?” Payton said with his eyes narrowed. The little boy always thought someone was trying to trick him.

  “Yes, he was a very great warrior.”

  “That will be fine then.”

  “Very well, let’s see. When I was a young boy, I sailed away from my home all alone on a ship called the Sea Devil. I had been told by my first teacher that there was a master swordsman that could train me, but he lived far away in the mountains. There was no harbor where I was going, so the captain of the ship dropped me off on the coast as close as he could get to the Blue Dagger Mountains.”

  “How did you get off the boat?” Vinsant asked.

  “Well, the captain said the coastline was too rocky and the water too shallow for his ship. He feared the keel would drag the bottom. He told me I would have to swim to shore.”

  “Were you afraid, Kian?” Tressa asked with her pretty dark eyes wide with wonder.

  “Yes, I was, but the ship’s captain ordered me to swim or stay on board. So into the water I went. After swimming a long way, I climbed up onto the rocky beach, shaking all over. My legs were completely spent.

  “So I sat down on the beach and let the sun dry me out, watching the sails of the Sea Devil vanish on the horizon. I stayed there awhile just watching the ocean. The water was much more beautiful than where I came from.

  “I finally decided I better be about finding this sword master, his name was Gildor Singollo. Now at thirteen, this seemed an easy task. My former teacher had drawn a map for me. After all, how hard could it be to find a valley in the mountains?

  "I had no supplies and no weapons, and these were the first mountains I had ever seen.

  “What a fool I was. Even with my former teacher’s directions, it had been quite an undertaking. It took over two months to even find the right valley, and I almost died several times looking for the place. If it had not been for luck and a few kind people in some of the mountain villages, I never would have made it.

  “Those two months had taught me a lot about surviving and never giving up. I wanted to be an elven warrior more than anything and I wasn’t about to let the mountains beat me. Never surrender, children, and never quit. If you want something bad enough and you work hard, you will get it.”

  Vinsant closed one eye and looked at the half-elf. “Did your master live in a cave?”

  “No, Vinsant, he lived in a beautiful valley. It was a very strange place for a boy who had been raised in the streets of Thieves Port. I will never forget when I first walked down into that valley or the first time I laid eyes on Gildor.

  “He was high up in a tree, standing on a limb with his hands behind his back and looking out over a beautiful lake. Beside the lake sat his small cabin. I walked over and looked up at the old man. I hoped I had the right place; he didn’t look like a sword master.

  “I waited for him to speak, but the old man said nothing. So I spoke first. Confused by the man in the tree, I said the first thing I thought of. ‘What are you doing up there?’ The old man replied, ‘Not falling.’ I couldn’t think of anything else to say, so I sat down and waited for the old man to come down. It had to be soon, he couldn’t stand like that for long, or so I thought.

  “When night fell, the old man was still standing in the tree. I was so weary from my travels that I fell asleep.

  “The sun had awakened me the next morning reflecting off the calm lake water. I looked up and the old man was still standing in the tree.” Kian feigned a look of surprise that made the children laugh. “I couldn’t believe he had stood there all night. I was so curious that I had to ask, ‘What are you still doing up there?’ The old man looked straight at me and said, ‘I have already answered that question once. Have you forgotten or are you just slow witted?’ That was my master, Gildor. Stupid questions got you stupid answers. You don’t know how many times I heard that.

  “Once the old man had swung down from the tree, I gave him my old teacher Elu’s letter. After reading it, he told me that he wasn’t taking any new students and hadn’t had one for two hundred years.

  “He started to walk away, saying something about Elu thinking everyone was a prodigy. I ran up behind the old man and told him I thought he should know Elu had died. Gildor did not speak again for hours. I waited, not knowing if I should stay or go. I was very upset. I had come so far and nearly died in the mountains only to be turned away. I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

  “How did your old teacher die?” Payton interrupted.

  “He was very old, it was just his time to pass on.” Kian looked at Endra. She didn’t speak, but he could tell she had grown interested in his story.

  “Finally, Gildor spoke. He said he would train me as a last favor to his old friend. He told me that I must understand there was only one weapon that I would be trained with and the sword would become my life.

  “Gildor was tall for one born to the elven race, almost six feet. His hair was snow white and he even had wrinkles on his face. Only very ancient elves have wrinkles. So I knew he had to be very, very old, but you could not tell it when he had a sword in his hand.

  “I had never seen anything so graceful as Gildor going through his morning engagements. That’s what he called his morning training. He used to say, ‘No morning engagements until one has their morning movements’.”

  The children giggled at that, but Endra looked at hi
m with one corner of her mouth turned in a half-smile and shook her head.

  “You are all smarter than me, it took me days to figure out what the great master meant by that.

  “When my training began, I thought that the old man was mad. For a year all he had me do was run or clasp heavy rocks in the palms of my hands and hold my arms out to the side for as long as I could. I did all manner of exercises when we began. There were the acrobatics, at least that had been fun. Then there were the strange things. Squat on my haunches for hours, stand on one foot and hop from first light until dark. I did all kind of things that just seemed insane. He would tell me, ‘Balance, son, is the key to victory.’ I was not even allowed to touch a sword for the first year. After that, it had been only a wooden one. I had already spent years training with Elu, but found I knew nothing. Gildor taught me things I thought impossible to do with a sword. ‘Become the blade, Kian, and let the blade become you.’ I heard that so many times, I thought about it all day and dreamed about it at night. For five years, that is all I did. I never left the area around the cabin, even when Gildor went to buy supplies from the mountain villages. I stayed and practiced, and the years just seemed to slip by." Kian realized he was telling Endra his story as well as the children, he wanted her to know what he was and who he was. It was Gildor more than anyone that had shaped him. His old master had made him the man he was.

  “When I was eighteen, I was given a real sword and the sparring began. It was terrible. The old man made me look foolish day after day. At the end of the day’s training, Gildor always taught me what I had done wrong and how to improve.

  “Many nights after we ate supper, Gildor told me stories about Elu or the old elven empire, or he would show me old maps and tell about the human kingdoms. He even taught me to read and write as well as history and mathematics, but what the old man never talked about even once were the elven wars or his own exploits.

  “Once I had asked about the wars and the Reaper. All he would say was, ‘I couldn’t beat death, son, and no one can.’ I could see the pain in the old man’s eyes. The awful memories he must have. I never asked him about the wars again. In the beginning, we had been master and pupil, but as the years went by, we were more like a father and son.