David Wells - Linkershim

Alexander used the distraction to regain his feet. In the same moment, the spell of confusion created by the brutality and ferocity of Anja’s attack was broken. The nearest pirate raised a broadsword in preparation to cleave her in half, but before he could bring the blade down, he stiffened in surprise and fell to his knees, Jack flickering into view behind him for just an instant.

Three of the pirates faced Alexander, two moving to each side while the man in the middle tried to draw his attention with a feint. Alexander closed his eyes, stretching out with his all around sight, smiling mirthlessly at the looks of triumph ghosting across his attackers’ faces just before they rushed him from three sides.

He launched forward with his good leg, cutting the middle man’s spear off at the haft, taking several fingers in the bargain, and barreling into him with his shoulder while the two men attempting to flank him attacked the empty air where he’d been standing. Before they could regain their balance, Alexander spun, reaching out with the Thinblade and catching each across the shoulder just deep enough to cut the bones, leaving their arms attached by only muscle and sinew. Facing each other, they screamed in terror and pain before turning in unison and fleeing into the forest.

Anja swept up the broadsword, three inches wide where it met the two-handed hilt, the stout blade nearly four feet long, and brought it around with such force that it cut the nearest pirate in half at the hip. One of the remaining two men moved behind Anja, but she didn’t notice … she was totally focused on the pirate in front of her. Alexander didn’t fear for her because he also saw Jack moving up behind the man, swift and deadly.

Alexander killed the pirate he’d taken fingers from just before Anja stabbed the last man through the chest with a battle cry worthy of the most hardened warrior. She spun in a crouch, her sword, nearly as big as she was, held in one hand like it was a simple dagger, a streak of blood splatter mingling with the freckles across her nose and cheeks, fury and purpose burning in her golden eyes.

Alexander stretched out with his all around sight. These pirates had come alone, probably scouts sent to track and slow Alexander and his people. More would be coming.

“What about these two?” Jack said, motioning to the two men Alexander had cut off just above the knees.

“Leave them,” Alexander said. “I want Tyr’s men to see what’s in store for them. I want them to be afraid.” He picked up the cloak of one of the fallen and cleaned the blood from his sword.

Kalderson’s men were standing on the other side of the log looking at the carnage scattered over the forest floor, eyes wide, breath held, fear evident in their colors.

“How many wounded do you have, Captain?”

“Two dead and one with an arrow through his leg.”

Alexander went to the wounded man and knelt at his side. “Looks like that hurts.”

“Nothing but a scratch,” the sailor said through gritted teeth.

“Good man,” Alexander said, motioning to the nearest two sailors. “Help me roll him onto his side so I can get the arrow out.”

A few minutes later, the sailor was being carried to a bed in the Wizard’s Den, the arrow removed, his wound cleaned, treated with the last of Alexander’s healing salve, and bandaged. Alexander left another sailor to care for the injured man and closed the door.

As evening approached and the shadows deepened, it started raining-not a downpour but a drizzle, constant and relentless, soaking the world with seemingly deliberate thoroughness. By the time they stopped for the night, everyone was soaked through and shivering.

It was cramped, but all of them were able to find space enough to sleep within the Wizard’s Den. While the men were at first awestruck and somewhat fearful of stepping into the magical room, they soon relaxed after Alexander closed the door and built up the fire. Hot tea and a hearty stew erased all hint of fear and replaced it with a symphony of snoring.

“How’re you doing?” Alexander asked Anja before going to sleep.

“I’m all right,” she said with a shrug. “Why?”

“You killed three people today.”

“So?”

“Some people find it hard to sleep after killing, especially the first time.”

Alexander remembered the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach the first time he’d killed a man. It seemed so long ago that he had loosed an arrow in the hallway of some nondescript Southport inn. He still remembered how it smelled, a hint of smoke mingled with sweat and fear. He remembered the mottled color of the walls. But mostly, he remembered the look in the man’s eyes in that moment when he realized he was dying.

“They were trying to kill you,” Anja said. “I’d have killed the rest of them if you hadn’t gotten to them first. And besides, I’m not a person, I’m a dragon.” With that she rolled over and closed her eyes.

***

The next morning, Alexander stood to the side of the door before he willed it open. It was raining softly outside, filling the air with the sound of countless droplets falling from the trees above. He stretched out with his all around sight, searching for any sign of the pirates-and he found them. Over a hundred men lying in wait. He looked down at the footprints leading into his Wizard’s Den.

“I take it they’ve found us,” Jack said when Alexander closed the door.

“We’re surrounded,” Alexander said, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Here,” Jack said, handing Alexander his cloak. “Slip through their lines and let us out down the road. They’ll never know what happened.”

“I like it,” Alexander said, donning the magical cloak.

“I’m coming with you,” Anja said.

“No, you’re not,” Alexander said. “You’re going to stay right here. I’ll let you out as soon as it’s safe.”

“But I can help.”

“No, you can’t,” Alexander said, tossing the hood up and opening the door just long enough to slip out into the world before closing it again. He froze in place, searching for any sign that the enemy had noticed him. They hadn’t. Most of the men seemed bored and irritable-all except for Tyr and his wizard. They were both fixated on the spot where Alexander stood.

He moved away slowly, carefully picking each step, sacrificing speed for stealth. By the time he’d passed through their perimeter and reached a safe distance, he had to remind himself to breathe. After another five minutes of walking, he stopped and opened the door to his Wizard’s Den.

Anja was waiting for him there, anger flashing in her eyes. “Don’t you ever do that again. I’m here to help you.”

Alexander stepped through the door, closing it behind him with a thought, causing Anja to back up a few steps.

“Listen well, child.” Alexander didn’t try to hide his anger from her. “I’ve told you to go home and you’ve refused. Fair enough, but understand this. I am at war. More than that, I am in command. You will obey me in battle or I will put you in this Wizard’s Den and leave you here until I can take you home to your mother where you belong. Do you understand me?”

Anja’s eyes went a little wide and she blinked a few times before looking down.

“I asked you a question, Anja. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” she said very quietly. “I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”

“Look at me,” he said, gently lifting her chin. “I don’t want to be mad at you, but there is much more at stake here than just your life or mine, and I cannot allow your willfulness or my feelings for you to jeopardize the future. If we lose this war, then everyone everywhere will lose just about everything and I’m not going to let that happen.”