Jill Williamson - To Darkness Fled

A shadow loomed above, breathing heavily. She could not see his face. "Are you well? We almost lost you to the Veil."

Sir Gavin.

"Yes." A sharp root poked into Vrell's lower back, but she did not feel seriously injured.

"Who are you?" Sir Gavin asked.

"My memory is fine, sir. I am Vrell Sparrow and we are in Darkness."

"Aye, but who are you really?"

Her breath snagged. "I…what?"

"Together you and I stormed the mage. We couldn't find his body. He must have had more men in the woods. Where'd you learn such a trick? I had been trying to battle his mind as I fought his apparition with my sword, but it wasn't until I had help that I could put an end to his mischief. Did Macoun teach you to storm?"

Vrell's heart lurched. Storm?

A torch flamed to life back in the clearing. Sir Caleb held it above Inko, who still lay on the ground.

Sir Gavin reached a hand down to Vrell. She gripped his calloused palm and he pulled her to standing.

"Make no mistake," Sir Gavin said, "we'll talk more of this."

Vrell pushed past Sir Gavin and found her satchel at the edge of the clearing. She carried the bag to Inko's side, dug out her safflower salve, and tried to help him sit.

He shook his head. "Be seeing to the others, boy. I'm being fine."

She approached Sir Caleb, who had a gash over his left eye. He held his torch toward the forest. "See to the prince."

Of course. Vrell turned and found Achan propped against a tree on the edge of the clearing. She scurried to his side and knelt gingerly on the sharp rocks. "Are you hurt?"

His lips parted, baring a wide, toothy grin in his blood and dirt-covered face. "How'd you like yer firs' battle?"

"What makes you think it was my first?"

"Lucky guess?" Achan chuckled, then closed his eyes and moaned. The cut on his left cheek had been torn open.

"If it hurts, stop talking." With shaking hands, she opened her water jug and wetted a fresh cloth. She wanted to know what Mother had done, but forced the worry away for now. She dabbed the dirt and blood from around Achan's wound and grimaced at the sight of the swollen skin. She hoped it would not get infected. "For your information, Jax, Khai, and I met eben resistance on the journey from Walden's Watch."

Achan flinched at her touch. "And yeh hid 'hind a tree?"

Why did he always want to play? She acquiesced, only because his cheek looked incredibly painful. " In the tree, actually. Now be serious, Your Highness. Where else are you hurt?"

Achan groaned. "Sp'rrow. If yeh call me that one more time, I'll see that yer hurt."

"Just answer the question, stubborn boy."

Achan met her eyes and coughed out a laugh. "Me? I'm notta-"

"Look." Vrell nodded to Sir Caleb. "They are injured but will not hear of being treated until you are, so stop wasting time and let me help you so I may help them."

Achan lifted his right hand in front of his face. His dark, wet knuckles glistened in the distant torchlight. "M' hand does 'ting a bit."

"Sir Caleb," Vrell called. "The light, please?"

They journeyed over rocky terrain for hours listening to Sir Caleb talk on the sword and shield's strengths over the longsword alone. Achan's feet ached. Sharp pebbles poked into the soles of his boots. Sir Gavin wanted to get to Mirrorstone as quickly as possible. Achan didn't like the fact that more black knights might be shadowing them but could think of no better plan.

The terrain flattened. Sir Gavin stopped in a field carpeted in short, twiggy grass and urged they make camp in the open where no one could sneak up on them so easily. Did that even matter? In Achan's opinion, Darkness provided endless cover for anyone wanting to set up an ambush.

They laid out the bedrolls around a small, blue torchlight. Achan settled onto the stiff leather and nibbled a piece of dry meat. "I still don't understand what happened." He pictured Eagan's Elk slicing through the black knight and the man vanishing into green smoke. "The first man I fought was flesh and blood. But the one who picked on Sparrow disappeared as I finished him."

"Deception," Sir Caleb said. "Black knights don't fight fair. Illusion is their biggest strength. And those who call on black spirits can give their apparitions physical form."

Black spirits? A chill raked Achan's arms. "I fought a demon?"

"Nay." Sir Gavin groaned as he sat on his bedroll. "The one with the helm was real. The rest of us were fighting the mage's enchantments. Black knights claim to be warrior mages. They believe sorcery combined with swordsmanship makes them stronger. They're under their own illusion. The power they wield isn't theirs."

Sir Gavin pulled his pack onto his lap and opened the flap. "The spirits aren't in control either. Both creatures, demon and man, are bound by each other's limitations. A man who falls victim to their spell is crippled by fear and rendered an easy target. That's why I stressed you understand the illusion. A very real illusion, but not as terrible as the black knights would have you think."

Sir Caleb squeezed Achan's shoulder, bushy eyebrows raised. "What I want to know is how you aren't dead, Your Highness. I thought you trained him, Gavin."

"I did, but…Achan uses what's at his disposal."

Heat spread over Achan at the idea of Sir Caleb's disapproval. "I thought I fought well."

"As did I," Sparrow said.

Sir Caleb winced. "Aye, you're brave, but you need proper training and practice."

"I competed in Prince Gid-Esek's tournament."

"Did you?" Sir Caleb's lips curled in a half smile. "What events?"

"The short sword and shield, though I'd never-"

"You were risking him to be playing games?" Inko's accusatory tone rang sharp. "What if he was being killed?"

"He should've been, judging by what I saw today," Sir Caleb said.

"He needed experience if he was to survive without me." Sir Gavin winked his brown eye at Achan. "Arman protected him."

"But you were risking him," Inko said. "Our future king."

"He's alive, is he not?"

Inko turned his disapproving glare to Achan. "It often is being said, Your Highness, that some training is being better than no training. But I must be cautioning you, sometimes no training is better than having bad training."

"Bah!" Sir Gavin slapped his palm to his thigh. "I trained him well enough!"

Sir Caleb folded his arms across his chest. "He fights like a drunk in a tavern brawl."

Achan blinked from Sir Gavin to Sir Caleb. A drunk?

"Aye, he's always been a bit of a brawler. I like that about him. Reminds me of his great uncle Preston." Sir Gavin sniffed in a long breath and released it slowly. "Forgive me, Achan. I've likely done a shabby job of teaching you to fight proper."

How was this criticism fair? Achan had defeated two of the five black knights. Sparrow had cowered like a girl. If Sir Caleb wanted to point out flaws, he should start with the boy. "What did I do that was so wrong?"

"Not wrong, Your Highness." Sir Caleb's brows furrowed as if he were searching for the right words. "You have courage and stamina, and you're strong and quite intimidating for a man your age. But you're full of risk. You leave too much to chance. Plus you've no respect for your weapon."

Achan shrugged. "What's a weapon but a tool to be used how its wielder deems necessary?"

"Well said, lad." Sir Gavin grinned, his thin, wolfish smile looking more like a grimace.

"Could I learn, as well?" Sparrow asked.

Sir Caleb nodded. "You can, boy. I must say, I thought you a coward until you turned veil warrior with Gavin and defeated the mage."

Achan frowned. Sparrow did what? "What's that mean, veil warrior?"

"It is meaning, Your Highness, that Vrell hasn't been being honest with us," Inko said. "He can do more with his mind than he has been letting on."