“If I were to leave him be he would find his way back to his master and the damage undone by the death of King Oxen would be reversed. Salkar would fly into the sun and make his way with all due speed to the one he serves in the north and no doubt he would find help along the way. Already the darkness creeps in here and there, I have seen it with my own two eyes, men and women alike who praise the dark one in shadowy street corners.”
“Salkar would find his way to Akram and General Soren would be the least of our worries. And little by little, Salkar would begin working his mischief again and we would be in danger. It is for the best that he is slain. I will engage him in single combat and he will have one last chance to beg for his life. Even then he will not be free. He will wear chains in a dungeon in Shamsake for the rest of his days—few as they may be in his age—and Dhoulus and Helena of the city will watch over him. If need be we will find a new royal priest to serve the king of Ganwin, one not filled with evil intent.”
“I have listened long to your words,” said Brinlee Cadence,” and wise words they are, Erste, as I always expect from you. Too true it is that this Salkar has joined forces with the dark one, and for how long he has been in his allegiance I can only wonder. Since the first king he served under, the second? But you know him better than I, Erste. Give the man his final choice and be done with him and trouble your heart no more.”
“As for General Soren,” he continued, “that armor he wears is cursed. It's been said that no blade can pierce the foul metal. Soren hides himself in it and I wonder what he sees behind that helm of his. What is your plan of engagement, Bartock?”
“It's been said that his armor cannot be pierced,” the village chief agreed, “but I have not tested this theory for myself. In a week, I will see if the tales are true. I will test my falchion against his gigantic Claymore sword and we will see who is the better swordsman, although I would say me for he trained under my watchful eye to become the swordsman he is today.”
“And if his armor cannot be pierced then I will engage him in combat another time and end his life then. The man was like a brother to me and all of us, but war has its victims as we all know. On the battlefield every man who is not with you is an enemy. And so General Soren Abbalah has become to us. Grieve not for his death, but the death of our comrades. If we assault the twilight town we will come back to the Horda Mountains with less than we set out with.”
Bartock looked in thought. “I wonder even now if we shouldn't have let Ing pass these walls for the Mountains of Promises. What awaits him at the end of that journey? Alas! The Sword of Erdwick is lost to us. Will the witch tell him where it is hidden or will she only give another one of her riddles? And if she does reveal the location of the Sword will he be ready to claim it?”
“Many questions arise from this matter, to be sure,” said Brinlee Cadence. “We can only hope that the witch knows the location of the heirloom better than we do, we who failed to protect Ing's Sword, and that she speaks truthfully. But the blood of Cecilia Mollish still runs in her veins and that woman's name has ever been an ill omen.”
“Ing is not yet ready to claim the Sword,” said Erste. “That much I have seen. As he trained under me in swordplay I saw his skills advance, but only a mighty warrior may wield the Sword of Erdwick and claim it. But Ing's skills are growing and he will be ready in time. It may be a year from now, it may be three years. And so I say once again that we must attack the dark town of Akram and weaken its strength while Ing's strength grows and he becomes the warrior that he must be.”
“Do we have that kind of time?” asked Bartock. “Erste, can we wait three years for this boy to mature and become the warrior that fights the darkness with the blade of legend? That is a long time to wait even if we do press an attack on Slithzalien. The Illusionists under his command wander farther than they used to and I fear they are close to finding the Rod.”
“We have waited five centuries while Slithzalien has slumbered,” Erste said. “What's another three years? And with the king in the south dispatched, Slithzalien will lose his influence over Eclestia. And as you have said, Bartock, you mean to do battle with Soren and that will weaken Slithzalien tenfold. The odds go in our favor. We can wait if we must, I say. My nephew is still young and not ready to take up the mantle of the warrior, you must have seen
