True Warriors Sing by Rowan Erlking (classic book list .TXT) 📕

They broke through the other side of the trees well after dark. There was a village there, or what was left of one, bones piled in the village square just like in the village with the gole, picked bare with the bloodstain years old and washed from the rain. It was clear the gole had come from the north out of Westhaven. LjuBa listened for the dissonant sound of the scraping demonic tune, but the air was only filled with natural silence.

They rested in one of the empty homes, their hands clenched on their swords, though when LjuBa woke up she noticed that Ljev was sitting up outside her door that morning, his head bowed.

She nudged him. “You are ridiculous. How can you sleep sitting up?”

He lifted his head, blinking his eyes at her, then smiled. “I learned it from your father, actually.”

Dropping her shoulders, LjuBa stepped back. “Fine. And we are going to find him today, right?”

Hopping to his feet and sheathing his sword, Ljev nodded. “Yes, Miss.”

“Then let’s go.” She led the way.

They took the north paved road, walking quickly on the pressed ground, their eyes taking in the overgrown state of it. They marched most of the morning, LjuBa singing songs to keep her heart stable as Ljev occasionally insisted that they rest for the same reason. They met the main road into Westhaven well into the afternoon, from there LjuBa insisted they cross the border towards the ancient village of PoRi that she noticed was on the map. Ljev reluctantly followed, looking back at the road behind them, waiting for the slaver’s caravan.

The first sign of PoRi was at an unusual fork in the road. The road itself changed from pressed sand and clay to that of hardened stones set in strange rock-like cement, arching somewhat in the center with shallow ditches at the sides filled with water that had run off it. They could see where the road had been worn by cart wheels, with unusual black streaks that looked somewhat like tar as if the tar had been rubbed hard against it in a slide into the ditch. In between the forks in the highway stood a three story wooden structure, washed in rust colored paint that stained the surface and set in a fenced yard. The building itself had strange windows of glass with cloth hanging on the inside to block out views into the rooms.

LjuBa perked up her ears as she heard the most unusual yet not entirely unnatural sound suddenly scrape through the daily living melody. Then she saw the chicken.

It flapped, its feathers fluffing down on the air as it dropped out of a small window of the building. Two creamy skinned children leapt out after it, dropping into the heaped straw below it, laughing. But these children were creatures with eyes so bright blue under their varying brown and blond streaked hair it had to be unnatural. LjuBa halted, staring.

The language the children spoke was entirely foreign. Their laughter was like music, too happy to be wrong.

They chased that chicken, running after it until the chicken itself whipped around and shook off its feathers, suddenly growing into another shape, entirely human. The feathers became a frock of a little girl who tossed her wavy cinnamon colored hair from her face, shouting back at the boys. She was just a bit smaller than they were.

“Chi’dran! Noa bugga ne chiken!” a tall white-skinned, wheat-haired, blue-eyed man strode out of the house, chasing after the three kids, followed by two taller versions of the children marching behind him, one girl around eleven and one boy who looked at least fourteen. The man then looked up, perking with his eyes turning directly at LjuBa and Ljev, both of whom had stopped on the edge of the road, just staring. He seemed just as stunned to see them as they were him. “Holy…”

The children looked up at him then turned their heads to search what he was looking at. Their eyes widened, but not with fear. A couple of them smiled.

Ljev stiffened, grabbing hold of LjuBa’s hand. “Stick close to me,” he whispered. Then he took a step toward the man, keeping his chin level but his neck rigid. “Do you speak KiTai?”

The blue-eyed man nodded, the glow in his eyes so startling that LjuBa retreated a little behind Ljev.

“I do,” the man said with hardly an accent. “Why have you come here?”

LjuBa stiffened more, clenching Ljev’s hand tightly.

Ljev replied, “We are looking for someone. Slave traders have him.”

Glancing at the children somewhat protectively, the blue-eyed man said, “Well, I haven’t seen any slave traders, or for that matter anyone pass by here in days.” He then turned to the children, reaching out with his hand to touch them. All of the children met his fingers then blinked, turning to peer more at LjuBa and Ljev. The oldest nodded, though the children started to smirk, the youngest giggling.

“What’s so funny?” LjuBa snapped. “It is my father we’re looking for!”

The blue-eyed man blinked. “My apologies. Was he a merchant waylaid on the highway?”

Ljev shook his head.

“He is a warrior!” LjuBa snapped.

Immediately the expression on the strange blue-eyed man turned incredulous. “A KiTai warrior? And slave traders have him? I find that hard to believe.”

That calmed LjuBa. Strange as this man was, he did understand what it meant to be a warrior.

“What made you think he was taken by slave traders into Brein Amon?” the man asked.

“Brein Amon?” Ljev repeated, immediately puzzled. LjuBa glanced to him with a frown.

The strange man nodded. “Yes. But I suppose your people still call it Westhaven.”

Ljev nodded, his eyes fixed on this man. “The Hann call it that.”

The blue-eyed man broke out into a musical sounding laugh, setting a hand to his head with a glance to his children who looked somewhat bemused. “The Hann…the kings of trade. Of course. They would say that. But back to the last subject, what made you think a KiTai warrior would be shackled as a slave and hauled over the border where most people have not dared tread over for thousands of years?”

“Thousands of years?” LjuBa moaned, turning to Ljev. “They lied. Those lousy bandits lied!”

“Well, you killed him before we could beat it out of him,” Ljev snapped back. “I told you just killing people solves nothing.”

The blue-eyed man leaned back, folding his arms across his chest with a smirk, watching them.

“That bandit deserved to die!” she barked at Ljev, shoving him. “What are we going to do now?”

“If I were you, I’d go home,” the blue-eyed man interjected.

Both LjuBa and Ljev turned their eyes toward him, their expressions almost identically irked though Ljev appeared worn. He set a hand to his forehead. Already the sun was dipping down towards the western horizon.

The man took a step towards them. “Look. He’s a warrior, right. Those bandits probably lied because he most likely clobbered them single handedly, and they had to save face—that or to get revenge on you.”

LjuBa stared, her mind going over it also. Of course. That must have been what happened.

“If I were you, I’d go home, because obviously he will be wondering where you ran off to,” the man then smirked with a glance to the children, “If he were anything like me, I’d be worried about my child running alone in the wilderness with a…are you really just a squire?”

Ljev ducked his head, but nodded.

The man chuckled, shaking his head. “Wow. I didn’t think the KiTai allowed squires that old.”

“Father is trying to reform him,” LjuBa muttered, glancing at Ljev.

Shaking it off, Ljev took another step forward. “Alright. Fine. If that is the case then—”

“Pater!” Another child, around sixteen this time, strode around the building to where the blue-eyed man stood, calling out. Spotting him he said, “Pater, Mater lu’kin fo yu.” He then lifted his eyes to where everyone else was staring. He drew in a breath and pointed. “Vas es das?”

The blue-eyed man reached out and the young man connected his hand with his, a spark rippling between them. Immediately the boy nodded then bowed to LjuBa and Ljev.

“I’m sorry. I was interrupting,” the boy suddenly said in perfect KiTai language.

LjuBa clenched Ljev’s arm. “Demons.”

Ljev nodded.

The blue-eyed man’s smile curled up with an amused sparkled in his glowing eyes. “No. That is a common misconception.” He then glanced at the children. “Well, actually they are a quarter demon, but we like to think of ourselves as a new species of human.”

“Let’s get out of here,” LjuBa hissed, trying to drag Ljev back to KiTai.

But Ljev actually took a step towards the man. “You are saying that a Cordril is not a demon?”

Cordril? LjuBa stiffened, peering at the pale man with blue eyes. She had heard many legends of those but she had never thought they were real until recently. During one of her visits home, K’sjuSha mentioned a Cordril village up in the North Corner of KiTai territory not far from the icy wastes, a race of human-like demons with shining blue eyes and snow white skin that preferred to be left alone. Legends said the had the ability to drain other living creatures dry with a touch and communicated with each other by the stroke of their hands. Here it was proved to be real. This man was fair, tall, and everything the legends had said.

The Cordril man smiled. “I know you don’t believe it, but it is true. My people came into this world around three thousand years ago from the space beyond the sky.”

Ljev barely glanced up at the summer clouds then snorted. “So you are saying you are a god?”

Chuckling, the Cordril shook his head. “No.”

“Let’s get out of here,” LjuBa hissed into Ljev’s ear again.

But Ljev would not budge. “Tell me, then. Is this land that you call Brein Amon still under the control of the demon Sky Children, the Cordrils’ sworn enemy?”

Shaking his head once more, the Cordril then touched the hand of the oldest boy who immediately rushed back the way he came as if on errand. “No. Their power was overthrown for over a thousand years now. Brein Amon is entirely human run. My wife seems to be the only living Sky Child left with abilities.”

She then walked out, the oldest boy following after her. LjuBa’s eyes fixed on the tall elegant looking woman with earth brown skin, dark wavy hair of an islander and bright blue eyes just like her husband’s. She looked to the Cordril and touched his hand, inquiring yet also vocalizing, “Vas es das?”

He nodded back.” Das es KiTai Valiors. Em vant fand em’s pater, also es valior. Brigandes laiz ta zem ta trow em of.”

“Oh.” She then looked to the pair of warriors on the edge of their land. Speaking in shaky KiTai, the woman said, “Is late. Will get dark, and demons are in the trees. Come in for supper.”

LjuBa shook her head, retreating.

The Cordril laughed. “We promise not to hurt you, though it isn’t like we can as long as you wear that belt. That hate ward looks good and solid.”

LjuBa blinked down at her belt then up at him. “What do you mean?”

Ljev exhaled, reaching around her with his arm, more to hold her back than to protect her. He said to the Cordril, “How did you know about that?”

With another amused laugh, the man waved for them to come in. “I’m a professional magister for the Brein Amon army. I’ve made my fair share of hate wards.”

It was as if the Cordril had said the right thing, because Ljev suddenly hurried over to him though LjuBa tried to pull him back. He shook her off. Yet he stopped his march just out of arm’s reach from the Cordril, staring at him breathlessly. “Can you make a gole ward?”

Clearly it was not what the Cordril expected any more than what LjuBa expected to hear, as the man blinked first