A. Searle - The King's sword

The bottom of the swamp was soft and the water rose above his waist. He stepped cautiously, feeling his way through the dark water until he was at Sorcha’s head. Then he bent down, turning his head so that his face was above the surface, and ran his hand along her leg. Mud sucked around her leg up to her knee. Using his fingers, he began to loosen the wet dirt around her leg and foot.

“Give her another pull,” he told Keegan. The horseman clicked his tongue and pulled at her bit. Mikel let out a breath of relief when the horse stepped forward and up from the mud.

But Ronan was slipping the moment she was free. “Dragon’s blood,” he cursed as he tried to free his own foot but the mud sucked at him until he was up to his chin in the swamp water. His head snapped around. Someone was coming. And fast.

But Diato was the least of Ronan’s worries at the moment for the mud sucked again and he took a deep breath before he was pulled completely beneath the surface. Bending down, he tried again to free his foot as he had done Sorcha’s. But Sorcha was bigger and stronger than he was and the mud continued to suck at him. The water moved around him as someone neared. He reached out, grasping blindly in the water for anything so that he might pull himself free. His fingers found nothing. Don’t panic.

He could faintly hear Ula screaming. Something grasped his arm, wrapped around it. Fiona was attempting to snake him loose. But she wasn’t strong enough. Don’t panic. He touched the slick snakeskin of her arm as his chest began to contract. He patted her gently and after a moment she uncoiled from around him. Ula screamed again.

The urge to take a breath was powerful. He reached down again in an attempt to dig the mud from around his foot. But his fingers fumbled. Don’t panic. But he was beginning to fill with fear. He’d let out most of his air and his lungs felt as if they were about to collapse. It was about time to start panicking.

And then two hands grasped him under his arms. They pulled and Ronan felt himself pulling loose. But it was too late, he thought as blackness began to swirl around him through the water. He went limp.

“Here he comes around,” a voice said from directly above him and Ronan dragged a loud breath into his lungs. He turned his head as water rushed up his throat and he spit it to the dry ground beneath him. He opened his eyes to find the centaur Bryan smiling softly down at him. Ronan’s hand immediately reached for and rested on the sword on his hips and Bryan’s mouth slanted.

“You are alive, Ronan Culley, though I should have left you for the harpies to pick apart for the way you behaved on our last meeting.” The centaur grasped Ronan’s arm and hauled him to his feet.

Ronan glanced around him. The swamp was behind them. The others were standing around with expressions of relief on their faces. Ula’s face was tear-streaked, her hand covering her mouth. He breathed out slowly.

“Yes, but then you wouldn’t have another chance at the sword.” Ronan looked back at the centaur. “What took you so long?” He heard Ula let go the breath she had been holding.

Bryan snorted. “Fake sword, villagers with poisonous darts. Let’s just say that I had a few setbacks.”

“Was one of them riding with several men and spouting his intentions to kill me?” Ronan asked, glancing back at the swamps.

“The guards?” Bryan shook his head. “They turned back right before they got to the island. I met them on their way back. A horde of harpies screeching at their backs. Your doing?”

“As a matter of fact.” Ronan called over his shoulder, “Ula.” She was there instantly, touching his arm.

“Are you in pain? Do you need me to heal you?”

“I need you to go into those trees there and hunt us up something big like an elk. Kill it and bring it back to me.” He told her. She looked at him with a strange expression but hurried to do what he’d commanded.

“I am in debt to you, Bryan.” Ronan rested a hand on the sword. “But I cannot repay it until I reach Merisgale. Walk with me a moment in private.” Ronan took an unsteady step but Bryan placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I will deliver the sword to Merisgale and will request payment for my service. I’ve decided that I will use that request to speak on your people’s behalf.” Ronan stopped when the centaur halted. “I am going to request that the centaurs be declared a people free from the rule of Merisgale.” For a moment Bryan was still. He only stared at Ronan.

“Why would you do that?” The centaur finally spoke.

“Because I think you are just in what you want for your people.” Ronan chuckled. “So much so that I have considered more than once relinquishing the sword to you.”

Bryan’s eyes clouded. “No one has ever offered to do such a thing for us.”

“They will have to consider it.” Ronan rubbed at his shoulders, realizing they were suddenly sore. “Would you grant me the chance to do it this way before you try to take the sword again?”

Bryan nodded his head. “We would rather do it your way than with violence.”

“Good.” Ronan crossed his arms, rubbing at both of his shoulders now. “Did you have to try and pull my arms from the sockets?”

“It’s the only way I could pull you loose.” Bryan ducked his head, and then embraced Ronan roughly. “I thank you, Ronan Culley, for taking this chance for us.”

“Alright. Alright,” Ronan said gruffly, embarrassed by the centaur’s unexpected show of affection. “Enough before the others start to talk.” Bryan chuckled as he released Ronan but gratitude glittered in unshed tears.

“There is another matter and I may need your help,” Ronan lowered his voice, praying he could trust Bryan. “One of those who travel with me is working against me. I do not know which.”

Bryan tossed his hair back over his shoulder. “I have suspected the crone.” Ronan’s eyes widened and the centaur continued, “The bridge at River Blanch was destroyed the night before you reached it. She is the only one who showed enough power to do such damage.”

Ronan glanced toward the trees and Ula appeared, struggling to drag the elk she’d killed. Keegan ran forward to help her. He remembered how stricken she had looked, remember the agonizing scream he’d heard from her beneath the swamp.

“But she warned me that someone was not who they seemed to be.”

“She did?” Bryan grunted. “Perhaps I am wrong. If she meant to work against you she would not give her guise away by pointing out any danger.”

“I don’t know who it is. I trusted each one of them,” Ronan admitted.

“You need an objective eye on the situation.” Bryan watched Ronan nod. “Will do. But you have a bigger problem.”

“What’s that?” Ronan looked at him.

“Johran.” Bryan nodded when Ronan winced. “They will make this swamp look like the Jobi Hills.”

“I’d rather be eaten alive than to face that swamp again,” Ronan growled.

“You may get your wish.”

“Drag it to mud at the edge of the swamp and leave it there,” Ronan called when he looked at Ula again.

“You sent the harpies after those fools.” Bryan was grinning when Ronan slanted a gaze at him. “So you are more than a blacksmith.”

“I suppose I am.” Ronan sighed and moved to help Keegan drag the Elk carcass to the edge of the swamp. The moment they stepped away, a swarm of harpies dived down to devour the animal.

“That is disgusting.” Ula wrinkled her nose and swallowed loudly. The harpies were ripping the poor animal apart, screeching beneath every bite. That sound mixed with the smacking of their open mouthed devouring was enough to turn anyone’s stomach.

“No, the rat foot is disgusting,” Ronan argued. “That’s just easy payment for a job well done.” Ula didn’t smile, turning her head and walking away from the gruesome tearing of muscle.