Of Snow and Steel

by Jonathan J. Schlosser

Part 1 appears
in this issue.

conclusion

The cloaked men held Lana up against the tree, and Keen began walking around her with the rope. It was thin, but I knew Lana would never be able to break it. Her father could have, but he lay near Irina, unmoving. Keen tied the rope off, doubling the tiger-knot and pulling it tight. Lana struggled, but he turned his back on her.

The men began piling wood at Lana’s feet. She kicked the first few away, but stopped when a man struck one against her shin hard enough to crack the wood.

Most men would have left, faced with this, but I couldn’t. I was sworn to stay, to do whatever I could, even if that meant death. The vigilante order of which I was a part, known as the Fire Lancers, stood as the last group of knights willing to protect the people from the nobles. Witchcraft accusations had flared out of control in the last years, a way to steal land and, with it, power. Unchecked, it could destroy the Empire. My home.

Plus, Keen had made a huge mistake. He’d chosen to attack my friends.

I had followed the rumors of Lana’s accusations, that she’d bewitched the cattle near the city so that they would stampede through the market and then die in droves on the streets. That she got her power from the goddess of the dead. As far as I could tell, the bewitched cattle were probably poisoned by the water supply — the Emperor had been telling Veragard to clean the waste from its factories for years. Nothing more. But Peter did hold a lot of land.

I rubbed my left hand, getting feeling back into the fingers. My right pulsed with warmth and heat — my soul rested within, giving off its own power as it did with every mortal being in the Empire and the lands beyond. I began creeping forward. Soon, I told myself. Soon. I could feel the magick pounding at my chest and running down my arm toward its outlet. It wanted to be released, begged to be thrown into the fray.

Soon.

When the wood reached to Lana’s knees, Keen held up his hand. “Enough. Giam, light the torch. Hiran, wake her parents. I want them to witness this. They need to know that witchcraft and magick are not to be trifled with.”

I sidled up to a large stump — it must have taken Peter an entire day to fell the tree — and looked over the top. Lana stood before me, but I could see only her arms strapped to the sides of the trunk. Keen turned his head, watching his men work and not looking in my direction.

Now.

I sprang up and dashed to Lana’s back, twisting sideways so I presented a slim enough profile that I wouldn’t be seen. The flat of my blade pressed against my cheek, cold as ice.

I reached out with magick. Not a full access to its power, just a probe. Enough to see the area around me in the magickal plane. Most of the figures appeared dark to me — including Lana — but one glowed with a vibrant amber light.

Dur Keen. He had it, just like I did.

I heard the crackling of the fire as Giam drew near. He must have brought flint and steal with him, and some sort of oil. Nothing else would burn in the dead of winter, a mere week and a half after Midwinter’s Day.

Keen strode up to the tree. I held the magick on the edge, ready to use as soon as I called. I could see Keen’s presence that way as well, which reinforced the advantage I already had.

“Lana Astire, I hereby accuse you of using witchcraft and magick, an abomination against the gods.” Keen’s voice dropped an octave. “Through the power given me by the Church of Razen, I find you guilty and condemn you to death. You are to be burned until your soul leaves your hand and your body is consumed.”

Lana couldn’t even force a denial past her chapped, frozen lips.

I, however, could.

I spun around the tree, leading with my sword. The sleek elven blade bisected the torch in Giam’s hand. His jaw dropped open in surprise and then the sword sliced through both cheeks and made the condition permanent.

As he fell away, shrieking, I let the magick loose. Green light exploded from my right hand and scattered the wood around Lana’s feet. I plucked one of the pieces from the snow and flung it like a crossbow bolt across the glade. It caught Hiran under the chin. His head snapped back, much like Irina’s had when Keen kicked her but ten times harder. His spine shattered and he pitched back, landing four yards away with his head canted at an angle.

I saw a flash of amber light out of the corner of my eye, and Lana screamed. I threw up my hand; a plate of green formed in front of it and intercepted Keen’s assault. A man — physical flesh and bone this time — dove at me from the other side. I flipped the blade up and drove it between his ribs. His armor did nothing to slow the steel’s progress, and it tore out of his back.

I spun again, pulling it from him and turning to face Keen. I caught a glimpse of Peter and Irina, her standing and staring with her arms around his neck as he knelt beside her, awake now.

I flicked my sword up into a high guard, the hilt at my shoulder and the blade angled down and forward. It wasn’t the best guard for defense; it was a challenge.

Keen laughed. “And what have we here? Another witch for me to destroy?”

“Hardly.” I tipped my chin back. “You are a disgrace to the Empire.”

“A Fire Lancer, then?” Keen’s eyes narrowed. “You should be on my side, should you not? It is this uncontrolled, wild magick that is a taint and must be destroyed. The Church in Veragard has decreed it.”

“It is you who are the tarnish. This girl has done nothing.”

“How can you be so sure, Fire Lancer? You were not here; you did not see the cattle.” Amber light glowed around Keen’s hands, but didn’t extend in my direction.

I braced myself. “But I know Lana, and I know her parents.”

Keen snarled. “If you won’t see reason, I’ll just kill you too. The gods will vindicate me. They know the truth.”

I slid my foot back, giving myself more leverage. “So they do.”

Keen’s hands came up, one holding his short sword and the other emitting a blast of light that formed into a spinning ball of ice. I dodged the magick and lashed out with my sword. I wasn’t close enough to hit him, but Keen’s own blade came up in reflex and I cut the top four inches from it.

Keen looked at it in shock and then threw the remaining length at my face. I deflected it away, twisting my wrist to keep it from flying toward Irina or Peter, and it sunk into the snow.

I could have called on the dragonfire that was the inherent power of the Fire Lancers, but I didn’t. It would have cooked Keen in his skin, burning away every last trace of him and his foul magick. But one look at Lana’s face told me that doing it would break her. Flames had been meant for her, and to see any now could traumatize her more deeply than I wanted to imagine.

Instead, I leapt at him. He tried to call upon another strike — a powerful combat spell that required an incantation — but I slammed my foot into his chest before he could complete it. He staggered backwards, gasping.

I landed and swung with my off hand in a roundhouse blow that split his lip. I punched him again with my sword hand, mashing his nose into his face. Cartilage tore and bone shattered; blood spurted out to cover my hand.

Keen fell to his knees. He tried to stand, then dropped to all fours. I stepped past him in disgust and walked to Lana. Tears streaked her face and her hair hung in a matted mess. I cut the rope holding her as if it was nothing. It fell away, but she remained rooted to the spot, the terror over but fear still rampant in her eyes.

I knelt. “Go to your parents, Lana.”

She ran. Irina gathered the girl to her and Peter — Irina had wrapped his wounds in strips of her dress — put his arms around both of them. I watched, a smile playing at my lips and feeling very out of place with so much carnage in the clearing around me.

Peter met my gaze, tears — not of fear — in his eyes now as well. “I owe you my life, Ethan. We all do. If I can ever do anything...”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it, my friend. I’m just glad no one was hurt.”

“But we could have been. Lana —”

“No.” I stood and sheathed my sword. I would clean it later, and well. “I would not want you to ever consider yourself in my debt. You have always been my friends when I’m in this part of the Empire, and that is enough.” I glanced down. “This is an occupation with all too few friends.”

Peter nodded at Keen. “What should we do with him?”

I held out my hand; light flowed from it and locked itself in a cocoon around the fallen man. It drained him of his power; I could never remove his abilities with magick, but I could cause his strength to be continuously drawn away so that he couldn’t use it.

Then I walked to Peter and lay my hand on his shoulder. “It was your family he tried to harm. Your daughter that he would have killed. I will let you deal with him as you see fit.”

Peter’s eyes hardened. “Thank you again, Ethan.”

I nodded, smiled at Irina and Lana, and turned from the glade. The trees towered over me, coated in snow that glistened white and silver. Somewhere overhead a hawk called, the sound piercing the night and lancing through the heavens. It would be a long fight, and a tasking one. Others, far more powerful and with a larger following than Keen could ever have dreamed, existed in the lands surrounding the city. Each would have to be hunted down and dispatched.

I set my shoulders and walked into the forest, letting it draw me in. A warm fire and a strong mug of spiced cider sounded like heaven itself, but I had quite a distance to travel before I could enjoy them. It would not do to waste time. No, it would not do at all.

Open Challenge 319...