A. Searle - The King's sword

“Then you die today,” Bryan answered without hesitation.

“No!” Arien kicked Ahearn forward, causing Ronan to frown at the boy, wanting to box his ears for not keeping quiet. But Arien’s eyes were wild and he trembled though Ronan could not be sure if it were from fear or devotion to him.

“Get back,” Ronan said lowly and raised his voice slightly when the boy did not obey. “I said to get back, boy.”

“Forgive me but I will not.” Arien shook his head, and then looked at Bryan. “ I am the blacksmith you seek. I carry the King’s Sword.” Behind them, Ula groaned lowly.

“Then give it to me.” Bryan smirked. It was clear he did not believe the boy was who he claimed to be. He would have been a fool if he did. Ronan assumed it was evident now which of them was really the blacksmith.

“What are you doing?” Ronan demanded, and then nearly fell from the horse when Arien swiped the bundled sword from Sorcha’s pack.

“If you want this thing, then come and get it!” Arien let the leather fall back and the white metal of The King’s Sword shown brightly in the sun. Ronan reached to take it back but Arien kicked Ahearn and they both went flying forward. The centaurs wasted no time and in moments were in pursuit.

The whole world seemed to quake beneath the impact of the centaurs’ hooves hitting the road. It rumbled through Ronan’s chest in the split second he remained still. Their powerful legs echoed the strength each one possessed as they chased after the sword.

“Dragon’s blood!” Ronan cursed into the thunder of the chase and kicked his own horse forward in a full gallop, praying Sorcha would do most of the work. “Arien!” Ronan called as the boy disappeared around a bend but he was ignored.

Sorcha was as fast as Keegan had said she was and was quickly passing the centaurs on the road. Ronan felt the muscles of her moving beneath him and realized suddenly how powerful Keegan’s horses really were. However, he did not have the advantage of being connected to the beast he rode and Bryan’s heavy fist knocked him from Sorcha’s back. Blackness threatened to overtake him when his head cracked against a stone.

Fighting to remain conscious, Ronan rolled out of the way of Keegan’s horse charging after the centaurs. The man looked like he’d almost become centaur himself, one with the animal he rode. Ronan was surprised to see Ula bent forward on her own animal, looking very much the witch with her hair flapping behind her. He clutched at his head and staggered forward.

Come back. Ronan’s desperate thoughts pounded against his temple in pain. Ahearn, bring me my sword back! Ronan forced himself to head down the road, praying that Arien wasn’t killed for his stupidity. Maybe the boy would just give them the damned weapon to spare his life. They could always get it back.

Bruised skin bubbled and swelled beneath Ronan’s fingers, easing blood out onto his hand. Still, he continued forward, blocking out the pain that summoned attention. He had to get to Arien.

The sound of a horse approaching moments later caused Ronan to look up. Ahearn stopped in front of Ronan, breath blowing heavily from his nose. At first Ronan did not move. Had the horse heard his silent plea? Ahearn snorted as if in answer.

Fear suddenly leapt in Ronan’s throat. He didn’t stop to think, reaching to pull himself onto Ahearn’s back. His hand connected to the cool metal of the King’s Sword. It had gotten caught in the reins and held on. But where was Arien?

As he swung onto the horse, rage filled him. What if the boy was killed? Ronan bent forward as he’d seen Ula do when Ahearn headed back up the road in a full gallop. His fingers gripped the hilt of the sword, and he promised himself that he would cut off Bryan’s blond head if Arien had been killed.

“Faster,” Ronan growled and to his surprise Ahearn leaned into the run, forcing his legs to pump harder. Around the bend and the horse reared up as he halted. Ronan’s eyes were wide as they fell to Arien’s crumpled body. Keegan and Ula stood, surrounded by the centaurs while Sorcha, Dermot, and Keegan’s horses struggled to untie themselves from a tree.

Keegan brandished a sword and Ula gripped her mule rock ribbon, clearly ready to use it as a weapon if she was made to. She was murmuring something that Ronan could only guess was some kind of protective spell. He prayed that someone heard her voice. One of the centaurs was bleeding and he saw that Keegan’s sword showed evidence of a strike. They were doing all they could to protect Arien. Thick emotion tore through Ronan and pushed him to kick Ahearn forward, raising the sword.

“If you make me use this, I will be the next King of Meris and you can be sure the lives you live now will seem like that of royalty for I will make everyone of your kind into the kind of slaves you could not even imagine.” Ronan’s voice lifted, bounced off the trees around them with conviction. Every one of them looked at him as Ahearn neared.

“ You are the blacksmith.” Bryan shifted his stance, staring at Ronan.

“I am also a royal guard and you may name me king in a few moments.” Ronan met Bryan’s eyes. “I am not like the boy. I do not bluff and I will kill the lot of you if I must.” Bryan’s blue eyes widened and Ronan could read easily that the centaur knew he spoke the truth. Ahearn pranced a little as if liking the prospect of a fight but neither Ronan’s gaze nor balance wavered.

“Not before we kill them first.” Bryan nodded to Arien and one of the centaurs lifted a hoof to hover above the boy’s head. Ronan knew Bryan saw his body stiffen. He hadn’t expected the man to use the boy against him. It had been stupid to think he wouldn’t.

“You made a mistake, blacksmith. You came back for those you cared for. It is true you have the weapon, but you give us one of our own to use. And we will use it.”

Bryan took a step forward when Ronan’s eyes darted to Arien. “This is not what I want. We are not a violent people. I can see that you are the same. Merisgale will not know that you gave the sword to me. They will think you were ambushed. The boy has injuries. They will not question your word. Go back to your forge and leave this to us.”

“I understand you more than you know, centaur, but I cannot do what you ask of me.” Ronan felt as if he were being torn. His heart pounded at the choice that was left to him. His hatred for the sword deepened.

“But no one need ever know what happens here,” Bryan insisted, stamping a hoof against the road and creating a cloud of dust. The movement brought Ahearn moving forward without Ronan’s command. But the horse did not charge and Ronan gave Ahearn’s reins a slight tug to remind him to wait.

“ I will know.” Ronan’s eyes slid from Arien to rest on the centaur. “I did not want this obligation but it is mine. And those three are my responsibility as well. I was paid to make this sword for the wizard Thestian. The weapon belongs to him.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Keegan’s head snap around. No doubt the horseman was surprised that Ronan had included him in those he would fight for. Ronan realized in that instant that Keegan had known the suspicion Ronan had felt toward him the day before. He would right his mistake. Keegan would know that Ronan would never doubt him again.

“Very well, blacksmith,” Bryan said sadly, looking back to the one who waited for command. “Do it.” Ula screamed.

It was a sound that Ronan was certain if one note higher would make a man’s ears bleed. And it stopped everyone, causing them to look at her. Her shoulders were squared, thrown back and her dark eyes looked like dangerous wells of evil. Overhead, the skies suddenly darkened, drew black clouds from every direction. Wind tore at the trees, bent them with little effort and for once Ronan saw the true power of the healer.