The King's sword

bring on events that might not take place otherwise.

“Do you think they are a part of the dark forces?” Ronan looked at Keegan, thankful that the horseman was more familiar with this darker world than he. Without him, Ronan would not have even noticed those that followed them.

“No. Centaurs are by nature free thinkers. They would not lower themselves to do the work of the dark forces or anyone else for that matter,” the horseman told him. “They are most likely after the sword for their own reasons, reasons that I would wager neither benefit Merisgale nor the dark forces.”

What reason could that be? “How far to Fullerk?” Ronan asked. He glanced out at the trees again.

“Another day and a half at most.” If Keegan knew Ronan suspected him, he did not show it and Ronan prayed that his suspicious thoughts hadn’t been obvious.

Ronan looked back to Ula after a moment of thought. “No, we push on and will not stop again until tonight.” Keegan raised a brow when Ronan faced him again. “I’ll take no chances. They haven’t attacked us yet, so perhaps they are only watching us. We may have passed their camp and they are just curious.” It was lame reasoning and Ronan knew it but Keegan nodded and kicked his horse forward while Ronan dropped back to the rear of their group.

As he rode, he rested his hand on the leather bundle that was the King’s Sword. He decided then and there that if the Centaurs attacked he would use the sword and face the consequences of his actions later. Once in Fullerk he would purchase a sword of his own.

Ronan felt ill. Never before had he felt he needed a weapon to protect himself. Now he needed one to protect two others as well.

The day dragged on and though he did give in and allow them to stop to relieve themselves, Ronan made certain they did not tarry long. The centaurs stayed with them, in the trees, moving when they moved, stopping when they stopped.

By nightfall, even Ula and Arien knew they were there. They would have had to be blind and stupid not to know it. Keegan and Ronan’s behavior alone probably tipped them off that there was something amiss. As they set up camp, everyone was solemnly quiet. And when they lay down to rest, none of them spoke a word.

Ronan remained awake, listening. The centaurs made no sound, not even a rustle and he assumed they did not sleep. Ronan suspected that none of the others slept either.

Only once, Ahearn appeared a bit nervous, then settled again. Ronan could only guess that one of those that watched them had come for a closer look for he could see nothing when he looked out at the dark trees. The centaur obviously fell back again and the rest of the night dragged on undisturbed.

If they were lucky, they could make Fullerk without any trouble. If they were not lucky, the centaurs would be just as weary as they were and perhaps that would weaken any attack they were planning. Either way, Ronan felt it would give him and those that traveled with him the upper hand in the situation.

To his relief the centaurs did not attack that night. The next morning they just continued following, watching. Ronan did not know how it felt to be hunted but he guessed it was very much like he was feeling now. They were prey being followed, with no control that could do nothing but wait for the hunter to make his move. Ronan didn’t like it and by midmorning he felt like charging into the trees.

“There is a fork in the road just ahead. Both ways will take us to Fullerk.” Keegan called back, pulling the reins of his horse. They all stopped and looked at Ronan. It was his call.

“Which way is quicker?” Ronan asked, wanting to get to the town as soon as possible. The closer to Fullerk the less chance they had of the centaurs in the trees attacking them.

“We’d have to cross a bridge but it’s not safe. If we were to cross, we would have to do it one at a time,” Keegan answered. “I think it would be better to go the other way. It would take a few more hours but…”

“We take the bridge.” Ronan interrupted, thinking a few hours could make a difference in their safety. “Is this a bridge that crosses the River Blanch that you spoke of before?”

“Yes.” Keegan nodded his head. “But the bridge is old and missing timbers in a few places. The other way we can cross the river all together via rope raft. I know the man at the crossing.”

“We cross the bridge,” Ronan repeated and though Keegan looked as if he wanted to argue, he did not. Instead he led them to the left at the fork. An hour later, they neared the river and Ronan could see Ula’s trepidation about crossing the waters in her eyes.

Ronan regretted his decision of taking the bridge however when they saw it had been destroyed. Pieces of it were scattered about and it looked as if the ropes had been cut. They would have to turn back. Ronan wondered if their misfortune was the doing of those who followed quietly in the trees.

“There is no way we could have known the bridge was down,” Ula said as they headed back the way they came. Ronan knew she was only trying to make him feel better but it wasn’t helping. He’d seen the relief on her face when they’d come across the scattered timbers.

“I should have listened to Yore,” Ronan admitted his fault causing Keegan to look back. He hadn’t wanted to say the words but knew that it was only right since Keegan had been correct. The horseman shrugged.

“Still, it would have helped had we known ahead of time that the bridge wasn’t an option. If my suspicions are correct, the bridge was destroyed recently. Perhaps someone was trying to stop us,” he suggested, clearly not liking the reality of it any more than Ronan.

“It could be coincidence,” Arien piped. “A bunch of kids could have done that damage.”

“Perhaps. It is close to Fullerk.” Keegan’s eyes told Ronan however that he did not believe that unruly children were the cause of the destruction. Ronan had to agree with him. Kids were stupid and would have left signs that would point the blame at them. No such signs were left behind. Only those cut ropes and the pieces of the bridge that looked to have been hacked with heavy blows.

“Or maybe it was him?” Arien interrupted his thoughts, pointing to the figure ahead of them in the road. Ronan went rigid as his eyes rested on the centaur. Keegan waved for the others to remain back as he walked his horse to meet with the beast. Ronan immediately rode forward, eyes sweeping over the centaur’s muscular torso and mane of thick blond hair. He was huge. And his broad features only made him look larger.

“You look like you’ve been riding for awhile.” The centaur spoke first in a deep but soft voice, looking at Keegan. “You could revive your horses at the river.” Ronan’s eyes narrowed. The centaur was fishing for something under the guise of concern. He realized he didn’t like those who would hide, even behind a feigned smile, any more than Keegan did.

“Our horses are good,” Keegan answered, his own voice deep. He made no attempt to hide the sharpness of his irritation or suspicion and Ronan was thankful. Keegan could prove intimidating if he wanted to.

“I’d heard that there were some traveling this way,” the centaur said and then offered another faint smile when Keegan tilted his head. “News travels fast, especially news that has to do with Merisgale. Are you the blacksmith?”

Ah ha. Ronan shifted on Sorcha’s back. It was as he suspected. The centaur was after the sword. Perhaps he even meant to become the next King. A centaur king rather than a wizard probably appealed to him and those who waited in the trees for him.

“We’ve a long way to go yet. Perhaps we will have time to stop and chat on our way back.” Keegan glanced back as Arien and Ula rode closer. “I told the two of you to stay…” Ronan’s head snapped around when Keegan’s words trailed away. Five more centaurs were approaching from behind. He looked back at the one in front of them. Ambushed.

“Who are you and what business have you with us?” Ronan asked. Part of him was relieved. At least now, they were where he could see them. No more waiting for them to pounce. They were in the thick of the danger and that was where he felt a bit more comfortable.

“I am the centaur Bryan. My business is only with the blacksmith,” The centaur answered, eyes remaining on Keegan. Ronan realized that they thought the horseman was the blacksmith.

“And any business of the blacksmith’s is business that is also ours.” Keegan crossed his arms. Ronan could feel the powerful energy that radiated out from the horseman.

“Very well. We want The King’s Sword,” Bryan said simply.

“So do a lot of other people,” Keegan countered and even managed to make his laugh seem mocking. “What makes you think we would just give it over to you?”

“If you do not, we shall take it.”

Bryan did not seem intimidated by Keegan. Why should he? Ronan silently thought. There were five more of