Morgan Rice - A Grant of Arms

Centra pulled a liquid-filled pouch from his waist and leaned back and drank. He then held it up and motioned for Reece’s mouth.

Reece didn’t know what to say, and he didn’t want to offend him, so he tentatively opened his mouth, and let Centra squirt the liquid in. It landed on the back of Reece’s throat, and burned, and Reece coughed.

Centra laughed aloud.

“What is it?” Reece asked, gasping, as Centra went around and squirted it in each person’s mouth.

“Atibar,” he answered. “It flows in a stream not far from here. Burns, does it? But how does it make you feel?”

Reece felt a tingling run up and down his body, and soon he felt lightheaded, relaxed. He definitely felt less on-edge; he didn’t feel the pains and bumps and bruises all over his body as acutely as he had.

As the others finished their round, Centra reached out and offered more to Reece; but this time Reece held up a hand and stopped him.

“Have some more, my friend,” Centra said. “It wears off quickly.”

Reece shook his head.

“Thank you, but I need my head clear.”

“You saved our lives,” Elden said, stepping forward in all seriousness. “And that is something we take very seriously. We owe you a great debt. Name your price. Men of the Legion always honor what they owe.”

Centra shook his head.

“You owe me nothing. But if it makes you happy, I’ll tell you what: help me find a good meal for the night. That damn lombok stole it. I want to get something before nightfall.”

“We will help you any way we can,” Reece said.

Centra surveyed the group.

“And why are you all down here, if I may ask?”

“We have come on urgent business,” Reece replied. “Have you seen the Sword?”

“The Sword?” Centra asked, eyebrows raised high. “What sword? It seems to me you are already carrying swords.”

Reece shook his head.

“No, the Sword. The Destiny Sword. It was embedded in a boulder. It plummeted over the edge.”

Centra’s eyes opened wide.

“The actual Destiny Sword?” he said, awe in his voice. “It is not down here, is it?”

Reece nodded.

“But how can it be? It is the sword of legend. What on earth would it be doing down here? In any case, I have seen no boulders, nor any swords. Are you sure—wait a minute,” he said, stopping himself. “Wait a minute,” he said, rubbing his chin, “you don’t mean the explosion, do you?”

Reece and the others looked at each other, puzzled.

“Explosion?” O’Connor asked.

“Earlier, something fell down from high above,” Centra said, “so loud, it shook the whole place. I didn’t see it, but I felt it. Who didn’t? It left a huge crater.”

Reece’s heart raced faster.

“Crater?” Reece asked. “That would make sense. The boulder would make a crater, from that high up.” He stepped closer to Centra and asked in all seriousness: “Can you lead us there?”

Centra shrugged.

“I don’t see why not. The best game lies in that direction anyway. Follow me. But be quick about it: we don’t want to be walking about at nightfall. Not when the night mist swirls.”

Centra turned and walked away quickly, and Reece and the others fell in behind him, O’Connor and Elden helping to carry Krog as he limped heavily. All of them were slow to regroup from their battle, rubbing their wounds, gathering their weapons, walking stiffly, none of them moving as fast or as nimbly as they were before. That battle with the lombok had taken its toll; Reece realized again how lucky they were to make it out alive.

They marched in the mud, in and out of the brightly-colored woods, and followed Centra as he weaved a dizzying path down some invisible trail that only he must have known. Reece could see no discernible sign of a path, but clearly Centra knew where he was going. The swirling mists blew in and out, and Reece wondered how on earth Centra was able to navigate this place. It all looked the same to him, and if it weren’t for Centra, he realized he would be inextricably lost.

It was getting darker as they went, and Reece was getting concerned. The sound of animals never stopped, and he could not help but wonder which creatures came out here at night? If the lombok existed, what other creatures might there be?

They marched and marched, and just as Reece was about to ask Centra how much farther they had to go, suddenly they stumbled upon a gap in the trees. All the trees here had been flattened, their branches broken, the trunks pushed back at unnatural angles. He walked more quickly, catching up to Centra, who suddenly reached up and put a rough palm on Reece’s chest, stopping him from taking another step forward.

Reece stopped short and realized he was lucky Centra had stopped him. As the mist rose, right beneath them, at the edge of his feet, there was revealed a huge crater, at least twenty feet in diameter and sinking a good twenty yards down into the earth. It looked as if a meteor had destroyed an entire section of the forest.

Reece’s heart pounded as he knew immediately that this must be the crater left by the plummeting of the boulder.

Reece searched excitedly for the Sword. All the others came up beside them, peering down over the edge, shocked.

But as the mist cleared, Reece was shocked and disappointed to see the crater was empty.

“How can it be?” O’Connor asked, beside him.

“It’s not possible,” Elden said.

“The boulder is not there,” Indra said.

“Perhaps this is a different crater,” Serna said.

Reece turned to Centra.

“Are you sure this is the spot?” Reece asked.

Centra nodded vigorously.

“This is it,” he said. “I am certain. I was not far when it happened, and I came to look for myself. I noticed a large stone, with a piece of metal in it, now that you mention it. I didn’t think much of it.”

“Then where is it?” Elden asked, skeptical.

“I am not lying,” Centra said indignantly.

Reece examined the floor of the crater carefully, and as the mist cleared, he noticed tracks leading up one side of it. It looked as if the boulder had been dragged up one side of the crater.

Reece walked over to it quickly, as did the others, and as he got close, he realized it was definitely the trail of the boulder, wide and deep, made as it was dragged away. All around were dozens of footprints. They were strange prints, too small to be quite human.

Centra stood over them, kneeled down in the mud, and he reached down and fingered the prints knowingly.

“Faws,” he said.

“What is that?” Reece asked.

“These are their tracks. They are a hostile tribe. Scavengers. It makes sense. They live on the far side of the Canyon. They would come and salvage something like this. They salvage anything they can find.”

“What do you mean?” Indra pressed. “They took the boulder? How could they have the strength?”

Centra sighed.

“They move as one. There are thousands of them. Together, they can do anything, like worker ants. They live that way,” he said, pointing. “Well, that’s that. Sorry about your Sword. But if the Faws have it, you can’t get it back.”

“Why do you say that?” Reece asked.

“They are a vicious and hostile tribe,” Centra said. “Savage warriors. Part human, part something else. Everyone down here knows to stay clear of them. They’re like a mill of ants. Come near them, and they have a system of alerting each other. They would kill you before you got close. No one will survive.”

Reece grasped the hilt of his sword, and stepped forward.

“Just the kind of odds I like.”

Gwendolyn stood before the ice monster, frozen in terror. Beside her, the others stood frozen, too, looking up at the beast in wonder. Gwen was flooded with fear, and a part of her wanted to turn and run, or at least raise her hands up and brace herself from an attack.