Journey to Repentance, Allan Deya [christmas read aloud TXT] 📗

Chapter 1

Threats of death

The figures crept through the woods in the dead of the night, soundless and at a pace they could easily have doubled if not tripled and Ayana, the only female in the band remarked as such.

“Milady, the pace slow though it be is the only thing that keeps us from being discovered by the enemy.” Answered Maverick, in that matter- of- fact tone that so infuriated her.

“I know that.” She snapped, “But if we were to send a party ahead of us to check out the lay of our path and a second after it to clear it then we should all move a ways faster.”

“True milady, but this band was chosen specifically to see you to Bainbridge as a single unit because of the individual talents that each posses and the power that comes of us working as one.” That was Flint Godard, the youngest of the lot and by far the most able tracker; captain of the pursuit team.

Ayana knew when she had been defeated for Maverick and Flint rarely ever agreed on any matter and in the rare event that they saw eye to eye none of the others would hold a dissimilar opinion.

She might have been lady to them all while at court but here in the wild dense jungles of her lands she was but a charge and as it went had little say in the matter of how they saw to her safety.

Keenai drew his sword and he swish of metal on sheath in the silence that they had labored so hard to preserve was akin to a great big shout. The rest knew better than to berate him on his apparent lack of discretion for they knew that he would not have done so had the situation not demanded it so instead they drew their own and took up position around the lady Ayana.

“What is it Keenai?” Stark asked in an urgent whisper.

“I do not know how they managed it, but we are surrounded and they outnumber us 5 to 1.”

The fact that the enemy had been able to slip past his field of vision was worrying, for Keenai Xindor as head of the Archery brigade had the keenest senses in the land of Candoria; add to that the fact that he was also captain of the covert squad and there should have been no way that anyone, let alone a multitude would have used the same techniques he employed on him with him none the wiser.

What sent the hearts of the 6 sworn to protect the princess to the pit of their stomachs was the fact that he had deemed it necessary to point out the odds. For they had traveled endlessly and again on roads more dangerous than this and had faced situations bleaker than the odds they were up against and he had never once pointed that out.

“How strong are they?” Amadin; Captain of the palace guard and combat specialist, wanted to know.

When he was faced with dark scowls from those who would have wished to spare the princess unnecessary worry, he remarked simply. “What? I ask only what each of you would need to know.”

“But the lady Ayana need not…” begun Nadia but was cut off by the lady herself.

“Need not what? Need not fear for her life without due reason? Need not hear of what the big strong men of Candoria would do to her assassins?”

“Milady it serves no purpose for us…” he countered.

“Indeed it serves no purpose for you to keep me from it, for if they would win I would be dead an instant after you but should you win then we may very well be on our way without as much as a pause. Either way I will worry while the battle rages.”

There was sense in her words and they saw it. Resigned Nadia said in a voice so small that should they not have been craving the answer to it none would have heard it, “They are as strong as we, each on his own and some stronger than we would be.”

And after a beat added, “They have very powerful magic working with them, directed appropriately,” he said looking at Keenai, “They would fool the best senses.”

“Here they come.” Stark Maladi, head of the Candorian Calvary and Captain of her royal escort said without acknowledging the remark.

Weapons at the ready they each faced the cardinal points that suited them with the archer facing the sky for aerial attacks and the wizard Nadia facing the ground for the dregs that would crawl from it.


Chapter 2

Stranger in the night

If such a thing could be, then a silence descended upon the silence that already was but a beat before ugliness embedded itself in the cold that was already biting into them; and then they were there. Rushing from all sides; some shrieking, some drooling, some quiet- she had sent her best.

These were witches and beasts and warriors; no longer just the hunting parties of super mortals and less than strong demons but those that served at her court. Metal clashed against metal, magic sizzled against magic and body slammed against body.

Ayana was pushed by her detail to a Holy Oak tree. That would offer her the protection of her back and feet for these creatures of the dark would not go near the tree of life meaning they only had to maintain the arc they had formed in front of her.

They had been at the battle for 2 cycles of the clouds shadow and she could see that her champions were beginning to tire.

Ayana had never given much thought to her death and why should she have? She had yet to be taken to the royal palace to learn the art of governance and decorum or to be schooled in the science of war and defense.

She had yet to go through the ritual of becoming queen and lead her people back to a time of peace and prosperity as was her destiny. She hadn’t met mate and sired heirs to the throne, she had not given hope to her people.

And traveling with companions so ridiculously strong did little to dissuade her from that line of thought. But here, now, she knew she neared her death as surely as she knew the moon shone above. Her party was heavily wounded, profusely bleeding and severely tired from the clash and yet only two score of the enemy were vanquished.

She would have wanted to believe in the divinity of the gods and the invisibility of the men who had watched over her all her life but she knew they could not 3 score more kill before they expired. So she looked to the moon; one of the symbols of her kingdom one last time and prepared to meet with the creators.

And then she noticed him. He could not have been among the things that had attacked her and her party for though he wore all black there was from him no coldness and in him no repugnance.

He moved deftly among the trees and the fact that he came to perch resolutely overhead- on the Holy Oak confirmed that he had not been tainted by darkness.

“Ayana get down!” Maverick shouted as one the arrows streaked past their ranks.

The men turned in horror as the arrow flew straight and true towards the future of Candoria. That’s when they saw him.

Though his coat fluttered in the wind, there was not a sound from it and though the speed by which he fell should have been for a being of more generous proportions, there was not as much as a rustle of leaves as he landed; arrow caught firmly in his hand; a hair’s breadth from the lady’s eye.

Even in the darkness he stood black, like a hole in the moving air; saying nothing, doing nothing. For a reason not known to them; one that they could later not explain, they knew he meant them no harm, so they turned back to their attackers.

Their surprise was evident as they all saw what they saw. Beasts there before crazed with lust for blood now only whimpered and whined, witches who had been baying for scorched flesh now moved soundlessly back, warriors who had attacked relentlessly and without emotion now had fear on every evident facet of them.

They came to the same conclusion at about the same time and turned around to face their savior. But he was no longer there, what they saw instead was the Lady Ayana; one hand clutched to her chest and staring past them, so they turned back and sure enough there he was before them.

He was covered from the neck down in black garb; black long coat of a material and cut with which they were not familiar over a shirt so black it seemed to show through him to the darkness beyond. His hands were shielded by black covers also unknown to them as were his feet and his pants were by no mistake not of any merchant they had ever encountered.

Only his face remained uncovered but whether by the accident or by design, his features were just shy of visibility. The moon’s light seemed to fall just short of where his face would be.

“Well then, shall we begin?” he asked in a quiet voice as a short black blade slid slowly, and soundlessly, from the right arm of his coat.

In response the 18 turned to flee, with him after them. Having lived many years in the service of the royal family each of the men who now covered the princess had had many an opportunity to fight and hear about the conflicts of others with the creatures of darkness and never in any of the lores told had they ever turned and ran.

Just like never in their experience had anyone been able to strike a beast down with a single swift slash or with their bare hand parry an attack of blue wizard’s fire and direct it back to the sender with a gash of red. The created warriors fared little better and were done away with after 3 quick moves of sword against sword.

When later they told the story, none could believe that twice the number that had taken Candoria’s greatest warriors 2 cloud cycles to put down had been bested by one man in less than half the time.

When he was finished he stood there, back to them all; one hand in his pocket the other holding the dripping blade away from his body as though he had done nothing but slaughter a tethered goat.