Brian Anderson - The Sword of Truth

Maybell nodded. “The Book of Souls.”

“Quite right,” Ruthy replied as she traced the elven letters with her finger. “I assume you have been unable to open it?”

“That’s why we’re here,” Maybell explained.

“And here I thought you had come to see me,” she teased.

“Don’t be cute,” said Maybell.

Ruthy grinned mischievously. “This is better than a visit. Besides, you promised me you’d retire here, and it certainly doesn’t look like you’re ready just yet.”

“Not quite,” she replied. “Can you help us?”

“To open the Book of Souls? Not a chance. It can only be opened by one with the power of heaven, or so the legends say. The elves kept it for centuries, but that part you probably know. It was stolen in the Great War, and was thought to be lost forever.”

“What is it, exactly?” Lee asked.

“It’s the very words written by the Gods, is what it is,” she replied as she turned the box over and over, examining every detail. “In their own hand. It is said that if a being with the power of heaven were to read from its pages, creation itself could be undone.”

“No wonder the elves protected it,” Lee said in awe. “Such a thing in the wrong hands could doom the world.”

“Indeed,” Ruthy agreed. “But I don’t think there’s much danger of that. Even if someone who possessed it intended to destroy the world, they wouldn’t be able to get it open. The box itself is indestructible.”

“I’ve found that out the hard way,” Lee admitted.

“The best thing you can do is return it wherever you found it and leave it alone,” Ruthy advised. “The mere thought of wielding such power is enough to drive men mad. Even if they couldn’t get the box open, there’s no telling what they’d do to possess it in the hope that they one day could.”

Lee heard the door open behind them, followed by the sound of metal and leather. Suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He spun around and drew the short dagger he had brought with him, silently cursing himself for leaving his sword at Lord Broin’s house. As he turned, he saw three men in studded leather standing just inside the door. Two carried crossbows, and the one in the middle held a short sword in one hand and a dagger in the other. Their faces were grim and weathered, and bore the scars of battle.

“What fortune,” said the man in the center. “I was only supposed to see that you remained here and out of the way, and now I find that you’ve brought a great treasure with you.”

Lee glanced down at the box as he slid it in front of Ruthy. “Leave now and I’ll allow you to live,” he said threateningly.

“My dear Lord Nal’Thain,” the man said with an evil smile. “Or do you prefer Lord Starfinder? I have no doubt you could kill every one of us. But if you don’t do exactly as I say, I shall see that these two lovely ladies precede us to the afterlife.”

Lee’s muscles tensed as he tried to think of a way to kill the soldiers while saving Maybell and Ruthy, but the man was right. The two soldiers on either side had their crossbows trained directly on the Sisters. There was no way to save them if he attacked.

“I’ll give you nothing,” Ruthy said defiantly, holding the box tightly to her chest. “Kill them. I’ve lived long enough.”

“As have I,” Maybell said, her head held high.

The man chuckled, still wearing a sinister grin. “Such courage,” he said mockingly. “But I doubt Lord Starfinder wants the blood of two women on his hands. Isn’t that right?”

Lee seethed with rage. He could not let the Book of Souls fall into the hands of the Dark Knight; with the Sword of Truth at his disposal, the Dark Knight might actually be able to open it. If that happened, all was lost.

“If I give you the book, you will leave my friends in peace and depart this city immediately,” he demanded. “If you don’t, I will make you pray for death.”

“You are in no position to give commands,” the man replied. “I will keep you here as I was instructed, and you’ll give me the book. After that you’ll find the reason for your quest no longer exists, so I suggest you return home and hope my master forgets all about you.”

Lee felt a cold knot form in the pit of his stomach. It was clear they meant to keep him here until they had dealt with Gewey. He knew what had to be done and readied himself to attack.

Just then, the soldier on the left yelped in pain as blood spewed from his mouth. The other two turned to their comrade, momentarily stunned. A moment was all Lee needed. In a flurry of motion, he sprang forward and slashed his dagger across the throat of the other bowman. Blood shot from the wound, spraying onto Lee’s face. The remaining soldier tried to flee but was met by the sword of Lord Broin. He thrust his blade through the man’s heart and watched as the soldier gasped and fell to the floor.

“Looks like I arrived just in time,” Broin observed as he wiped his blade on the soldier’s trousers.

Lee nodded to Broin, then turned to Maybell. “Wait here. I’ll send word later.”

Before she could argue, Lee was gone, with Broin trailing behind.

Lee raced through the streets of Gristol as fast as his legs could carry him, his dagger still in his hand. Broin could not keep up and soon fell far behind. When Lee reached the house, the door was flung wide. Dina stood just inside, looking upset.

“Where’s Gewey?” Lee asked urgently. She recounted what had happened. “He left a little while ago for the Bean and Broth.”

“Fool,” he roared, running to his room to retrieve his sword.

“Where’s Millet?” he asked Dina as he fastened the blade to his belt.

“He still has not returned,” she replied nervously.

“When he does, tell him he leaves immediately,” he ordered. “The rest of you get your things together. I’ll return as soon as I have Gewey and Kaylia.” With that, he took off towards the tavern.

Broin arrived a short while later, out of breath and holding his side. “By the Gods, that man is fast,” he said, gasping for air. Dina told him what Lee had said and explained that Malstisos had been guarding the others.

“Tell him to keep vigilant. I’ll be back soon.” He caught his breath and shook his head. “Wonderful,” he muttered to himself as he took off after Lee. “More running.”

Gewey and Kaylia paused as they approached the door to The Bean and Broth. He had waited as long as he could for Lee, but the time had come when he could wait no longer. Malstisos had offered to accompany them, but Gewey refused him. When Malstisos insisted, Ganflin helped a bit in convincing him to stay behind.

“I’m rubbish with a sword,” he had said to the elf. “Someone needs to be here that can fight.”

Reluctantly, Malstisos had relented, allowing Gewey and Kaylia to leave for the tavern alone.

Gewey stared at the door and checked his sword for the hundredth time. “If anything happens, I want you to promise me you’ll run,” he said gravely.

Kaylia reached up, pulled his face to hers, and kissed him softly. Gewey stood stunned, momentarily forgetting the danger. “You will never get such a promise,” she said firmly, but with a sweet smile. “I do not abandon my friends, and I certainly do not leave a suitor undefended.” Gewey smiled back, and they entered the tavern.

It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the dim light of the room, and he could hear nothing but the sound of the barman cleaning mugs and glasses. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. The tavern was empty save for the barman and a lone figure sitting in a corner, facing away from them. The barman looked up at Gewey and Kaylia and motioned toward the figure. Gewey and Kaylia walked up to the table and stood behind the man. He had blond, shoulder-length hair that was tied in a short ponytail and wore a simple maroon tunic and pants.