A Soldier's Life - Chapter 127: The Black Blade

Chapter 127: The Black Blade

I followed Konstantin down to the training yard, carrying my pack and two blades so I would be ready to leave when the company marched. It was still dark when we arrived. The training yard was adjacent to the Citadel barracks, where the rest of the company was quartered. No one was up yet, and it was maybe an hour before sunrise. I decided to tease Konstantin that I knew some of his secrets, “So, you have a spell form that allows you not to need much sleep?”

Konstantin eyed me with an appraising stare, “I do. I need about half what a normal man does. Just means I was required to stand watch more often or not while I was with the Hounds.” Konstantin had his own pack and was getting ready for some practice.

He took on a paternal tone as he gave me advice, “You will just find the more spell forms you have, the more that is expected of you. But you know that already with your dimensional spell form.”

I nodded as I was testing both blades, deciding what to use first. “Are we wrapping our blades?” I asked since Konstantin had made no effort to. We usually used practice swords or wrapped our actual blades when we practiced.

“You can heal yourself, Eryk. There is no need to wrap mine,” Konstantin said dismissively with his back to me. I could imagine the grin on his face.

I had been hoping for him to say something like that, “Yeah, I can, but I do not have a lot of aether, so I can only heal a little.” I hoped this would prevent him from causing me a serious injury as I wrapped my blade in the tacky cloth.

Konstantin still didn’t wrap his blade and asked, “Is that how you kept up on the run to the capital? You healed your feet as we went?” I nodded, and he half-smiled, shaking his head in an un-Konstantin-like manner. “Damn, Eryk. My feet felt like an ogre had chewed on them during that run. Seeing you not suffering made me think I was getting soft.”

“So, I made you feel inadequate?” I smirked, and he lost his good humor instantly.

Konstantin walked over to me, all business, and held out his hand, “Do you mind if I look at them?”

I had to remember trying to befriend the coarse man to find out why Castile was deemed important by the Praetorian Guard. I handed him both the blades, “The polished one is orc forged, and the black one is just old.”

He first held the partially wrapped black blade, “It is sometimes called a devoted blade, Eryk. Forged by the smiths of the First Legion before the elves killed them all. That is why there are no runic smiths in the Empire. They are always killed as soon as they are recognized. There might be some working in secret for the Emperor, but they are not known publicly,” Konstantin stated.

“The elves kill the runic smiths?” I asked, interested in the small piece of history.

“The Bartiradian assassins, yes. Not always elves, though.” He moved his hand along the length of the black blade. It was mostly black with a large number of tiny pits in it. “As I was saying, the devoted blades were forged to kill one specific enemy. When carving out the Empire, the First Legion fought campaigns against the orcs, dwarves, elves, goblins, gnolls, centaurs, and other humans. Most likely, this blade was forged against one of those.” He handed me back the blade.

“It is rare and valuable, then? So, what does it do? Can it kill them with one swing?” I swung the blade to test its weight.

“I have only read the histories, and this is my first time seeing one. The Black Blade companies were elite units in the various campaigns sent after the most troubling opponents. The stories say the black blades prevented beings from using magical healing, including potions, after being injured,” Konstantin informed me while facing me. “The blades are uncommon but not rare and probably hanging on the walls of most citadels in the Empire. Dungeon blades are much more valuable and useful against all types of creatures.”

“So, will the blade not work against the specters?” I asked, reconsidering choosing this blade.

“It will. It is a runic weapon. The black coloring is from silver mixed with steel. There is an ancient tale about the black blades. It may regain some of its luster if you soak it in the blood of the enemy it was forged to fight. If you find another wielder of such a blade, you should ask them.”

He was ready to begin, and we engaged and started our practice. The clang of steel woke the men up, and a few came outside to watch from a distance and prepare for the march, repacking their packs. I realized they were not going to be happy with Konstantin or me for waking them early.

Neither of us was using shields, and the first serious injury was to my forearm. After parrying my blade, Konstantin cut all the way to the bone on a slash where the greaves didn’t cover. I cradled my arm to conceal the healing as best I could from watchful eyes. Reknitting the muscle and flesh took time, and Konstantin watched, shaking his head in disbelief. I don’t think he believed I could heal until he saw it himself.

Konstantin nodded to himself now that it was confirmed, “Okay, Eryk. So, your biggest problem is getting used to the longer sword. You have the strength and size to wield it, but your mind and muscle memory are still trying to use it like a shorter blade. Now….”

We spent the next half an hour as Konstantin showed me how the sword forms I learned in training were slightly different for the longer blade. Almost the entire company was outside watching now, including Brutus. I had tried the orchish blade, and the black blade just felt better in my hands. I was only loaning the other blade to Brutus anyway. Adrian appeared with Delmar first and yelled, “Breakfast inside, then we march!”

As the cold air dried our sweat, I walked inside with Konstantin. He asked, “Did you see him?”

“See who?” I asked, confused.

“The First Citizen Boris. He was watching you from the third-floor balcony. I am disappointed if you didn’t see him,” he said, shaking his head.

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“I noticed people watching from the windows of the Citadel, but I did not know who they were. I was too busy trying to avoid your blade seeking my flesh,” I muttered.

Konstantin clapped me on the back in an almost fatherly pat, “I taught you better than that. Danger can come from anywhere. My impression is the First Citizen Boris is about as smart as an ornery bull. But if you ignore that bull, its horn is going to pierce your heart when you least expect it.”

Konstantin went to sit with Adrian and Delmar, leaving me to take a table with Brutus and Mateo. I preempted Brutus’ question, “Yes, Brutus. I will loan you the orcish-made blade. The black blade feels better in my hands.”

Mateo sounded in, “You were lucky that Konstantin was not part of the contest. He brutalized you this morning and could have won the blade.”

Brutus defended me, “He gave Konstantin as good as he got. Eryk was probably pulling his strikes so as not to hurt the old man. Besides, he has his own runic weapon already.”

Mateo was bouncing and itching to change the topic. “Don’t even ask Mateo. My answer is still no.” Mateo looked distressed but didn’t ask to borrow the dreamscape amulet again. Felix came, put a massive haunch of ham on the table, and sat with us. Blaze brought a bowl of small boiled potatoes. To everyone’s disappointment, the pitchers were full of only water.

I noted with some snark, “Since the Countess arrived, the food and drink quality has really dropped off.” Everyone was using knives to cut off chunks of the boiled ham.

Blaze commented, “That is because you spend your nights in the Alchemist Tower. We usually get the leftovers from the Duchess’ dinner with her mother. Seconds, but extremely tasty, and at least it is seasoned.” He tapped the bland ham with his knife.

As we ate, the conversation drifted to the company contest yesterday. I only half followed the conversation and nodded when appropriate. It was all too soon when Castile arrived with Scholar Favian, and Delmar ordered us to formation. Everyone made to stuff as much food as they could into their mouths as we went to shoulder our packs and began the march.

Adrian informed me, “You will be marching next to Castile in the center, Eryk.” I nodded, as it seemed I would be talking with Castile during the march. Castile was dressed in comfortable clothing and even had a small pack herself, which I found surprising.

She usually did not carry any gear, but then I remembered we had a kettle of souls. I assumed that was what she was transporting. Favian was on her right, and I was positioned on her left.

After we settled into the march, Castile said, “You are going to protect Scholar Favian.” Castile smirked, “Don’t look surprised. You carry a runic weapon and proved yourself one of the best swordsmen in the company. Your aptitude to shield Zyna with your spell form was also a consideration.”

“So, no more scouting with Konstantin?” I said, confused. We had agreed I was going to get closer to him and learn his purpose in the company.

“No, not with you carrying the potions again. Flavius is back as well to help him,” Castile noted the scout further down the road.

It was late morning when we reached the turn-off for the trade road that led to the ruins of Caelora. We took a short break at the intersection before starting the march north. The dirt road was lined with farms, but all too soon, we reached the old paved trade road. Everyone got tense with the stone road beneath us. We had fought the wraith and were headed into dire wolf territory.

Castile and Favian talked about their plans for exploring the haunted city, and I listened as we walked.

The first step was circling it and seeing if the maps Favian had in the books matched. There were only two gates through the walls: the East and West Gate. Favian thought the West Gate was the better access point as it was near the Elven library. That was where many of the books in the Duchess’ collection had been salvaged from.

Favian only found a short accounting of the expedition that recovered the books. The members of the expedition camped a mile outside the West Gate, and then, on the first day with clear skies and sun, they rushed to the library and recovered as many books as they could. The specters had trouble in daylight and they encountered only a handful inside the library. Still, six members of the twenty-man expedition had died.

Listening to Favian describe the journal entries of the mage who led the expedition, I was not feeling too great about our chances but glad I now had a runic blade to fend them off. I also had the elven dagger as a backup weapon and thought about loaning it to the Scholar since he already knew about it. If the situation made sense, I decided to give it to him.

The two finally discussed the possible locations for the mysterious Shimmering Labyrinth Dungeon. Favian gave his view, “I strongly believe it is under the largest hearth tree on the west side of the city. I have found numerous references to the mages accessing the ley lines in the city in the same area but no definitive location to the dungeon.”

“Are you sure it is even in the city?” Castile questioned, doubt in her tone.

Favian waivered, “We have been over this before Mage Castile. The selection of books they took on the expedition is highly varied. There are nineteen references to the dungeon, but it does not appear on any of the maps. The Elven King and his family controlled access and kept its location secret.”

The conversation went back and forth as Favian described the city layout. The city’s East side was residential and the only area where non-elves were permitted. The West side had their important citizens: royalty, wealthy, and many of their craftsmen. That is what the city was known for—high-quality trade goods. The celebrated craftsman and the works of art they produced.

Konstantin came back from scouting to Castile, and Adrian and Delmar joined him. Konstantin noted, “We are still south of the dire wolf territory. I suggest we make camp soon.” There was a brief discussion, and four miles later, Flavius found a defensible hill with good water nearby, and we set up camp.

Maveith had Favian’s gear and set up his tent. Since I was in charge of his protection, I set my tent next to him. Maveith set his own tarp next to mine. I was dreading Konstantin asking me to train with the black blade. Instead, Castile approached Maveith and me, saying, “Maveith, make sure you watch him while he sleeps. I do not believe he can perceive the outside world while using the amulet.” Castile made eye contact with me and nodded slightly before leaving. Castile was telling me that she expected me to use the amulet.

Maveith nodded seriously, “I will guard your body with my life, Eryk.”

Maybe I would not have to stand watch either. “What about the watch?” I inquired to confirm with the departing Castile.

“You are tied to Favian. Do not leave his side,” Castile said, talking over her shoulder as she walked away.

Konstantin overhead, “Don’t worry, Eryk. I am sure Favian will not mind watching you train.”

Favian, who was already inside his tent, replied, “I do not mind watching your sword practice, Eryk. I heard of your exploits with the blade.”

“Great,” I said sarcastically.

After Castile left, I told Maveith quietly, “If you remove the amulet from my body, I will wake.” I thought there were some secrets I would prefer to keep.

A few hours later, I was in my tent after a supposedly short session with Konstantin before dinner. Dinner was cold, and only a little was left when we approached Lirkin for our portion. He gave me an apologetic look as he scrapped the pot for my bowl. Before using the amulet, I used a glowstone for light to page through all of Favian’s books. I wanted to add them to my dreamscape amulet tonight. With the amulet in hand, I channeled aether into it.