The King's Sword (6 page)

“I do not. But this is not the way to fight for the rights of your kind.” Keegan was the one to answer.

Ronan only frowned. Yes, he
did
know how it felt. Old pain ached within him as he thought of his mother withering away. He had only told Keegan part of the truth. The whole truth was too ugly.

“You could fight a different way,” Ronan suggested.

“We are not considered a thinking people. Those of Merisgale do not listen to the ramblings of beasts.” Bryan’s voice was thick with both sadness and bitterness.

“Is there no one who would speak on your behalf? Someone they would listen to?” Ronan asked, unable to help the compassion he felt for the centaur.

“Who would do that? You were scowling yourself when you realized we were in the trees and when you approached me. We get no different treatment from anyone else. This is the only way.” Bryan bowed his head and Ronan winced with guilt. “We are left with no other choices. Give us the sword.”

Ronan shook his head but his heart did not feel the same convictions. He knew what it felt to be slighted because of something that was beyond his control. Poverty was an evil cloak to force a child to wear and a responsibility that been forced upon him too young. He looked in Bryan’s eyes and understood the determination he read there. And the centaur had every right to be that determined.

But Ronan knew he could not do as the centaur wished. There was too much at stake for him and more importantly for those who traveled with him. If he gave Bryan the sword he would be jeopardizing them as well as himself.

“We cannot do what you ask.” Ronan hated the decision that was left for him to make, but most of all he hated the sword. It seemed to be the root of all the problems forming.

“Then you die today,” Bryan answered without hesitation.

“No!” Arien kicked Ahearn forward, causing Ronan to frown at the boy, wanting to box his ears for not keeping quiet. But Arien’s eyes were wild and he trembled though Ronan could not be sure if it were from fear or devotion to him.

“Get back,” Ronan said lowly and raised his voice slightly when the boy did not obey. “I said to get back, boy.”

“Forgive me but I will not.” Arien shook his head, and then looked at Bryan. “
I
am the blacksmith you seek.
I
carry the King’s Sword.” Behind them, Ula groaned lowly.

“Then give it to me.” Bryan smirked. It was clear he did not believe the boy was who he claimed to be. He would have been a fool if he did. Ronan assumed it was evident now which of them was really the blacksmith.

“What are you doing?” Ronan demanded, and then nearly fell from the horse when Arien swiped the bundled sword from Sorcha’s pack.

“If you want this thing, then come and get it!” Arien let the leather fall back and the white metal of The King’s Sword shown brightly in the sun. Ronan reached to take it back but Arien kicked Ahearn and they both went flying forward. The centaurs wasted no time and in moments were in pursuit.

The whole world seemed to quake beneath the impact of the centaurs’ hooves hitting the road. It rumbled through Ronan’s chest in the split second he remained still. Their powerful legs echoed the strength each one possessed as they chased after the sword.

“Dragon’s blood!” Ronan cursed into the thunder of the chase and kicked his own horse forward in a full gallop, praying Sorcha would do most of the work. “Arien!” Ronan called as the boy disappeared around a bend but he was ignored.

Sorcha was as fast as Keegan had said she was and was quickly passing the centaurs on the road. Ronan felt the muscles of her moving beneath him and realized suddenly how powerful Keegan’s horses really were. However, he did not have the advantage of being connected to the beast he rode and Bryan’s heavy fist knocked him from Sorcha’s back. Blackness threatened to overtake him when his head cracked against a stone.

Fighting to remain conscious, Ronan rolled out of the way of Keegan’s horse charging after the centaurs. The man looked like he’d almost become centaur himself, one with the animal he rode. Ronan was surprised to see Ula bent forward on her own animal, looking very much the witch with her hair flapping behind her. He clutched at his head and staggered forward.

Come back.
Ronan’s desperate thoughts pounded against his temple in pain.
Ahearn, bring me my sword back!
Ronan forced himself to head down the road, praying that Arien wasn’t killed for his stupidity. Maybe the boy would just give them the damned weapon to spare his life. They could always get it back.

Bruised skin bubbled and swelled beneath Ronan’s fingers, easing blood out onto his hand. Still, he continued forward, blocking out the pain that summoned attention. He had to get to Arien.

The sound of a horse approaching moments later caused Ronan to look up. Ahearn stopped in front of Ronan, breath blowing heavily from his nose. At first Ronan did not move. Had the horse heard his silent plea? Ahearn snorted as if in answer.

Fear suddenly leapt in Ronan’s throat. He didn’t stop to think, reaching to pull himself onto Ahearn’s back. His hand connected to the cool metal of the King’s Sword. It had gotten caught in the reins and held on. But
where
was Arien?

As he swung onto the horse, rage filled him. What if the boy was killed? Ronan bent forward as he’d seen Ula do when Ahearn headed back up the road in a full gallop. His fingers gripped the hilt of the sword, and he promised himself that he would cut off Bryan’s blond head if Arien had been killed.

“Faster,” Ronan growled and to his surprise Ahearn leaned into the run, forcing his legs to pump harder. Around the bend and the horse reared up as he halted. Ronan’s eyes were wide as they fell to Arien’s crumpled body. Keegan and Ula stood, surrounded by the centaurs while Sorcha, Dermot, and Keegan’s horses struggled to untie themselves from a tree.

Keegan brandished a sword and Ula gripped her mule rock ribbon, clearly ready to use it as a weapon if she was made to. She was murmuring something that Ronan could only guess was some kind of protective spell. He prayed that someone heard her voice. One of the centaurs was bleeding and he saw that Keegan’s sword showed evidence of a strike. They were doing all they could to protect Arien. Thick emotion tore through Ronan and pushed him to kick Ahearn forward, raising the sword.

“If you make me use this, I will be the next King of Meris and you can be sure the lives you live now will seem like that of royalty for I will make everyone of your kind into the kind of slaves you could not even imagine.” Ronan’s voice lifted, bounced off the trees around them with conviction. Every one of them looked at him as Ahearn neared.

“
You
are the blacksmith.” Bryan shifted his stance, staring at Ronan.

“I am also a royal guard and you may name me king in a few moments.” Ronan met Bryan’s eyes. “I am not like the boy. I do not bluff and I will kill the lot of you if I must.” Bryan’s blue eyes widened and Ronan could read easily that the centaur knew he spoke the truth. Ahearn pranced a little as if liking the prospect of a fight but neither Ronan’s gaze nor balance wavered.

“Not before we kill them first.” Bryan nodded to Arien and one of the centaurs lifted a hoof to hover above the boy’s head. Ronan knew Bryan saw his body stiffen. He hadn’t expected the man to use the boy against him. It had been stupid to think he wouldn’t.

“You made a mistake, blacksmith. You came back for those you cared for. It is true you have the weapon, but you give us one of our own to use. And we
will
use it.”

Bryan took a step forward when Ronan’s eyes darted to Arien. “This is not what I want. We are not a violent people. I can see that you are the same. Merisgale will not know that you gave the sword to me. They will think you were ambushed. The boy has injuries. They will not question your word. Go back to your forge and leave this to us.”

“I understand you more than you know, centaur, but I cannot do what you ask of me.” Ronan felt as if he were being torn. His heart pounded at the choice that was left to him. His hatred for the sword deepened.

“But no one need ever know what happens here,” Bryan insisted, stamping a hoof against the road and creating a cloud of dust. The movement brought Ahearn moving forward without Ronan’s command. But the horse did not charge and Ronan gave Ahearn’s reins a slight tug to remind him to wait.

“
I
will know.” Ronan’s eyes slid from Arien to rest on the centaur. “I did not want this obligation but it is mine. And those three are my responsibility as well. I was paid to make this sword for the wizard Thestian. The weapon belongs to him.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Keegan’s head snap around. No doubt the horseman was surprised that Ronan had included him in those he would fight for. Ronan realized in that instant that Keegan had known the suspicion Ronan had felt toward him the day before. He would right his mistake. Keegan would know that Ronan would never doubt him again.

“Very well, blacksmith,” Bryan said sadly, looking back to the one who waited for command. “Do it.” Ula screamed.

It was a sound that Ronan was certain if one note higher would make a man’s ears bleed. And it stopped everyone, causing them to look at her. Her shoulders were squared, thrown back and her dark eyes looked like dangerous wells of evil. Overhead, the skies suddenly darkened, drew black clouds from every direction. Wind tore at the trees, bent them with little effort and for once Ronan saw the true power of the healer.

She had hidden this side of herself, allowing Ronan only to see her as a bothersome woman, perhaps even as mad. But Ula Baen was more than that and anyone who looked at her at this moment could see that fact clearly.

With flourish of her hand and without even looking in Arien’s direction, Ula’s tiny blade split through the air and planted in the neck of the centaur that hovered over the boy. For a moment the creature only stared at her, then staggered backward and fell into a muscled heap.

Thunder clapped and lightening forked from the sky as if it were by her will. It struck the ground only a few yards from where they stood. Ronan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as the electric charge filled the air. Any moment, she would have the sky spitting ice at them!

“Get out of my way or I will take you out one by one.” Her voice didn’t even sound like her own. Ronan stared as the centaurs moved away from her so she could go to Arien. When she dropped to his side, the wind settled and the sky immediately cleared. It was as if her power had never been, which made it all the more frightening.

“You travel with those that hold the dark forces.” Bryan’s eyes swung to Ronan, widened with surprise and fear. “You mean to give the sword to Sleagan. You mean to give the power of the sword to someone who could do more damage than the wizard.”

Ronan shook his head. “I mean to give it to Thestian and no one else.” Ronan tore his eyes from Ula as she began chanting over Arien’s body. “And no centaur or crazed old woman is going to stop me.” His mind reeled but he forced his confusing thoughts into dark corners. He would save his questions for later. Desperately, he wished he could call to the dark skies as Ula had. He would then let those black depths just suck him up and out of this situation.

“But I
will
stop a bunch of centaurs.” Ula looked up at Bryan. “If I must I shall summon a demon to do it for me.”

Ronan watched the centaurs back further away. Obviously Ula knew a little more about the half beasts than Ronan. Her threat scared them much more than his.

“I do not believe you to be an evil man. Your eyes speak that to me. But you travel with one who would use the dark forces to get what she wants. I fear you will not reach your destination, blacksmith.” Bryan met Ronan’s gaze and for a moment, held it.

“He is to be addressed as Sir Culley.” Keegan’s voice caused Ronan to break the centaur’s connection to him and slanted a look at the horseman. There was no humor in the Keegan’s face only seriousness and respect. When had that happened?

Bryan nodded for the four remaining centaurs and they hefted up their dead comrade. A jerk of his head commanded them to back away. Slowly they did and Ronan said nothing as he watched them leave. When they were gone, he looked down at Ula while Keegan untied the horses.

Ronan slid from Ahearn’s back and stepped toward Arien. His throat felt dry and he clutched the King’s Sword, ready to go after the centaurs if the boy’s life had been taken. Ula looked up at Ronan as he knelt at her side. She touched his arm but Ronan had to ask. He had to know if he had failed the boy.

“Is he…dead?”

Four

Ronan’s eyelids dipped and then closed, but only for a moment before they flew back open. No, he couldn’t sleep. He wouldn’t. Not when Arien was so close to death. Ula had longed ceased her chanting and Keegan had even settled down to rest. Ronan stayed awake, watching over his young apprentice.

He stretched, moved around by throwing more wood to the fire. It wasn’t cold but the heat of the fire gave him something to focus on. He picked up a stick and poked at the wood in its heated depths. Then he tossed the stick into the flames.

Restlessness ached in Ronan’s bones. He kicked at the dirt, fussed with his clothes, stared out at the trees trying to see into the darkness that surrounded them. He had to keep his attention on something, anything that would keep him from falling asleep. He tried to think of his home, of metal in fire but his thoughts just returned to the boy.

The memory of his Arien’s big smile when Ronan would compliment him on his work flickered in and out of Ronan’s thoughts. He’d wanted Ronan’s approval so badly. He’s worked hard for it.

“Live,” Ronan whispered in a low, desperate voice as he ran a hand over his face and scratched at his beard. He was tired. The others slept but Ronan knew the centaurs were not really gone. They were just out of sight. He remembered the determination in Bryan’s eyes. Ula had spooked him but the centaur would not give up so easily. He would summon his courage and come at them again.