doing better than Murray but not by much. Both animals backed away from them. Kovos’ horse Calvin was fine; in fact, Legon wasn’t sure it had even known what was going on. The clanging of metal probably didn’t bother blacksmith’s horses, but Keither’s, well, Margaret’s their mothers, horse Pixy was freaking out. Pixy was young and Margaret hadn’t worked with her too much yet. She was a good horse and he thought that she would be good for Keither. Sasha was the one in the end that got them calmed down. She loved horses. She had trained both Phantom and Murray, and both were great. Calvin wasn’t too bad but she would have to help Keither with Pixy. “This was probably a good thing,” Legon thought-she needed something to take her mind off of what was going on.
Kovos collected the soldier’s horses and was tying their “earnings” to them. For some reason this made Legon feel self-conscious, like he had done something wrong, but he hadn’t. The men needed to look like they were robbed, but still he couldn’t help but think of himself as a thief. He turned to look at the devastated camp. Everything was still fresh, the blood still glistened off the leaves, the ground was still muddy, but that was starting to dry a bit. The sun was all but gone now. They needed to go, needed to set up a new camp, eat, and get some answers.
As he rode he looked at the arrow he’d taken back from Sasha. It still amazed him. He had loved archery for so long, and what if it was part of his ancestry? He should be mulling over what had happened, but he couldn’t help but feel a little excited. His people made this, and maybe someday he could do the same. Or, maybe he would never do it, maybe the human side would take over and he would be a butcher. This bothered him. He never thought of being anything other than a butcher, and even if he went to the Elves he might just be a butcher there.
Sasha was riding next to him, looking off in the distance, her eyes unfocused. He wondered what was going on in her head. He hoped that she was all right. The men hadn’t actually raped her, but the commander came close enough, and that was reason enough for her to have issues. She’d be fine in a few days. Sasha was tougher than she looked; at least he hoped she was. Arkin pulled off into a clearing to the left of the road, going down next to the stream.
“We’ll camp here for the night. Keither, find some wood for a fire. Sasha, please make something simple for us to eat. It can be bread for all I care, but we need to eat. Kovos, tend to the horses and help Legon set up the tents. I’m going to walk the perimeter of camp to make sure we’re safe,” Arkin said and then walked off in the woods.
There was still no talking as they set camp. When they were done, Sasha went into one of the tents and changed her clothes, coming out with the bloody ones in her hands. She walked to the fire and tossed them in. No one stopped her. In fact, watching them burn seemed to make them feel better about their current situation. By the time they were burned and gone, Arkin was back and Sasha seemed to be feeling much better. They all changed and it did seem to make them feel cleaner in some way, almost like by taking off the old clothes and putting on the new ones they were cleansing themselves in the process.
They sat around the fire eating bread, waiting for Arkin to start. This was his show; he had the answers, and they were willing to wait for them. Arkin looked like he was thinking hard about what to say.
“Twenty years ago, a woman I knew and was close to married an Elf. It was rare for this to happen, but what was rarer was that she got pregnant. The couple knew it was a bad idea to raise the child where they lived.”
“Why?” asked Legon.
“In time you will find out, but not now.”
“It’s my past. Why not now?” he asked, his voice getting stern.
“Because I can’t tell you everything. I have taken many oaths, and no matter how much I may want to tell you everything, I can’t. Please trust me on this.” It was a question as well as a statement, and Legon knew that if he pushed his luck that Arkin wouldn’t tell him anything.
“They decided to move by Salmont, and that’s where they were going to raise you until they figured out if you were going to be Elf or human. After you were born, things were going fine. I was stationed in Salmont as protection.”
There was sadness in Arkin’s eyes and a helpless look. Never had Legon seen Arkin get emotional.
“It is my fault your mother was killed. If I had tried harder they would have never made it to her, they wouldn’t have…” he trailed off. At first when Arkin said that it was his fault that his mother was dead, Legon felt a twinge of anger, but that left as he watched him. Arkin had never half-hearted anything in Legon’s whole life, and he doubted that he had then either. In fact, he was sure that the man had been carrying this with him for years. Every time he saw Legon he had to be reminded.
“It’s fine Arkin. I’m sure you did your best.”
“My best was not good enough. They got to her before I could get there. I went out hunting, planning on leaving Brack and Edis to find her, but you know what happened after that…”
“Yeah, I do.” He was surprised at how he felt bad. After all, he never knew his birth parents and looked at Edis, Laura, as his parents and Sasha as his real sister. So why feel so bad about it? They knew the risks, didn’t they? Or was it because they put themselves in danger for his benefit, for his protection?
“Anyway, I got word that the Iumenta had found out what was going on when they killed your father. Apparently one of the men with him was a traitor. We never found out who. The whole party was killed, traitor and all. So after that my orders were to watch you and train you.”
“Train me, and what?”
“If you looked like you were going to turn Elf then I was to take you back to the Elves. If you went human then I was to let you lead a normal life, and if you began to turn Elf but leaned to the side of the Iumenta…”
“You were to kill me.” Legon finished.
Arkin flinched. “Yes. There has never been an Elven traitor, but there hasn’t been anyone in your position for hundreds of years.” This wasn’t a shock. It made logical sense to need to protect your country from attack, but still, to think of himself being viewed as a “possible threat” bothered him.
“Ok, ok that’s fine. Truth be told, if I turned out to be anything like one of the bastards we killed today I would hope you would kill me. So what now?”
Arkin looked almost proud of him and he seemed to have a more familiar look about him. “We go to Salez. Your lot needs to learn some new tricks.” As he spoke he took the two blades off his back still in the sheaths, handing them to Legon. “These were your father’s fenrra. They are yours. They have been in your house for over two thousand years.” Legon took hold of the fenrra, amazed by the lightness of them. The handles were one- handed and there was not much of a hilt. The sheath was a dark, deep purple, almost black. The grips were wrapped with something that felt like leather. The pommel was slanted with a tree inside a triangle surrounded by a circle. The whole thing looked like it was made of gold but was untarnished and unscratched, so it couldn’t have been. There was what looked like gold thread up the handles and the hilt was also gold with intricate leaves.
He stood and pulled on the handle of one of the fenrra. It came out without a sound, revealing a blade that looked like a mirror, the edge of which was visible and went up about a quarter of an inch along the forward edge and about a fourth of the way up along the back edge. He felt power gush through him. He held it up in the fire light, seeing himself more clearly than he ever had. The handle felt perfect in his hand, like it was made for him. He ran his finger along the edge. It was sharper than anything he’d ever seen. He handed the other one to Kovos, who pulled it out, marveling. Both men turned the fenrra over in their hands, feeling the balance and comfort. They just felt good, almost like an extension of his own body.
“They will almost never dull. Those have been sharpened only twice, once when they were made and then again about seven hundred years ago. They will also never break, or, if you do manage to break them, you will be one of only a few who’s managed it. That edge is sharper than anything you’ve seen and armor means little to them. Elves and Iumenta only wear light armor, more for humans and lesser objects. You see the thicker part of the blade?” Arkin said, pointing at the last half of the fenrra.
“Yes.”
“That part there is used to deflect arrows and anything else sent your way. You won’t be able to do it now, but if you turn into an Elf you’ll be fast enough.”
This should have floored him, but nothing was a surprise anymore.
Kovos handed him the other blade and he stood amazed. They felt so natural. He didn’t want to let them go. It made him feel like nothing could hurt him, like they somehow had abilities of their own.
“Now we need to sleep. Don’t worry about sleeping in tomorrow. We have all had a hard day. I know it’s early, but you need to rest,” Arkin said.
