The Sword Of Krillia

The Sword of Krillia

The Corshan Quadrilogy - Book 2

By Sebastian H. Alive

Published by Sebastian H. Alive

License Notes

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright 2015 Sebastian H. Alive

Prologue

City of Krillia

They descended on him from the shadows with eyes of hatred and a thirst for blood.  Adalatus felt his breath whoosh from him as he hit the brick of the alleyway wall and he fell to his knees, gasping for breath as they surrounded him.  He found himself being hauled roughly to his feet, a figure on either side of him as they slammed him back against the wall, pinning his arms as they did so.

Where is your half-blood friend? snarled Ragir.

His eyes glittered strangely and his lips were curled back almost feral-like as he leant in close, almost touching his forehead.  Adalatus could smell his pungent breath mixed with the stale odor of sweat emanating from the tall youth, and could almost taste his anger as he grabbed a handful of his hair painfully and bunched his spare hand into a fist.  An uppercut flung his head back savagely hitting the wall at the back of him and stars exploded in his vision making him scream out in pain.

Ragir, I am your friend also, he spluttered.

Adalatus could taste blood at the corners of his mouth as he flinched at the fist that lingered near his face.  Looking up he saw his assailant hovering over him, a smirk playing about his face.

Hold your tongue! shouted Ragir.  I'll never be your friend whilst you keep company with that whoreson!

The street gang threw him several feet farther down into the alleyway and he fell to his knees once again, skidding on the dirt gravel and tearing a hole in his thin troos as he did so.

You know who I am, Ragir said, as he advanced slowly towards him. We grew up together, played together and I welcomed you into my home and how do you repay my friendship?

Adalatus pushed himself up, scrabbling in the dirt as the three young men surrounded him.  He was lean and strong, someone who could fend for himself in a fair fight but he was outnumbered heavily and fear flickered within him like a candle. He swallowed nervously as he waited to see what they intended to do next.

You hang around with dirt Adalatus, so you must enjoy the taste of it.

The two youths who had pinned him to the wall darted forward and locked his arms behind his back as Ragir scooped up handfuls of gravel and rubbed it into his face, stuffing it into his mouth as he gagged fighting for breath.  He shook his body violently, trying to break free, but Ragir hit him again and he doubled up in pain, sagging against the arms that held him.

I hate him and I hate you. he said, grabbing Adalatus' jaw and pulling it close to his face.

A knot of anger was building up within him as he took a moment to breathe and he looked up at Ragir with cold eyes.

He is everything you are not and never will be. he spat.

Even as the words left his lips he regretted saying them as Ragir whipped out a knife and clamped a hand over his mouth with the palm of his hand, turning the gleaming blade around and round before the terrified eyes of Adalatus.

It's time we sent a little message to your friend, he snarled.  A message he won't forget.

This has gone too far, Rag his friend said nervously, eyeing the knife.  We did what we came for, let's go.

Ragir eyes were calm as he turned to his accomplice.  Well, Folien, if you have no spine for a little blood then you can leave us, he hissed.

His friend released the arm of Adalatus and backed slowly out of the alleyway as Ragir shook his head, staring in the direction Folien had gone.

Are you in, Granville? he asked his remaining friend.

Granville nodded excitedly and tightened his grip on the struggling boy.  Licking his lips he smiled but there was no warmth in that smile as he angled the blade down towards Adalatus' left cheekbone.

ENOUGH! roared a voice from behind Ragir.

Adalatus shook himself free from his captor and looked up to see the figure of his friend at the entrance of the alleyway bathed in the dying remnants of the evening light.  He groaned as Ragir spun around to face him, grinning and hefting his blade.

Ahhhhh...so the dog returns to its master, sneered Ragir.

Rune's handsome face was masked of emotion with the exception of his eyes which were cold and piercing, like winter storm clouds peering through a tumble of long brown hair.

I am tired of you attacking my friend, either fight me, or go home.  He said sharply.  His voice sounded so dark and emotionless that Adalatus almost didn't recognize it.

Oh, you're going to fight us both, are you? Ragir spat.

That's the difference between you and me, Rune said. Cowardice runs through you're veins like poison.  I'll take on both of you to make it fair,

Ragir blanched and his face turning a shade of crimson.  Don't you dare speak to me like that. he said quietly, his eyes full of a barely contained anger.

Rune laughed coldly.  Where does your hatred stem from Ragir?  You’re kind has no place in the Krillian academy.

Go back to your Corshan whore of a mother, you half-breed, shouted Ragir stepping forward.

Fine, he replied grimly. Since you are not afraid to die, then come fight me.

Your putrid Corshan blood will stain the cobbles, hissed Ragir advancing.

Granville pushed Adalatus to the side and ambled next to the poised figure of Ragir.  The narrow alleyway rendered it difficult to attack together, so he stepped in front of Ragir with a menacing smile on his round face.  As he lunged forward Rune was caught by surprise, for his large size, he had tremendous speed and he took a punch straight on the nose and felt it shatter under the blow, blood starting to stream down his face.

He grunted with pain as Granville lunged again with his fists, and a blow banged against his jaw.  Reeling momentarily he almost fell, but came up swinging with a quick left hook onto the bridge of the boy’s nose.  Granville staggered slightly and ducked under another swing which missed his head and glanced off his right shoulder, then threw a looping blow in reply but it was not swift enough and Rune came up between his legs with a knee sending him sprawling backwards.  A high scream was torn from the youth as he clutched at his groin and fell to his knees.

Rune sniffed and wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand, fixing Ragir with an unwavering look.

Come then, come and feel pain.

Ragir snarled and lunged forward with the blade as Rune swayed back on the balls of his feet just as the knife whizzed by his face and clanked against the alleyway wall.  He clung onto the weapon and reversed his spare fist to Rune's cheek.  He took the blow straight in the face so he could get in close, and then swatted the blade from his attacker’s hand.  As the knife clattered to the floor he stepped quickly across and kicked the weapon away from them both, then threw a wild swinging punch with all his weight at Ragir's chin.  The youth went to the floor with a groan and tried to rise on hollow legs, but slumped back to the floor.

Rune paused and looked over at the knife for a moment, his eyes clouded and dark.

Ru? said Adalatus inching forward.

For a moment the shadows in his eyes seemed to grow and then they shrank back as his friends voice broke through his thoughts.  Rune looked down at his hands and saw them stained with blood then back at Ragir and Granville who were still groaning on the cold cobbled floor.

Ru, he said, more forcibly this time.  Let's get out of here.

Rune nodded absently and without a backward glance they ran out of the alleyway into the street, and they didn't stop running until they were short of breath.

Why does he hate you so? asked Adalatus, nursing his bruised jaw.

Rune's troubled eyes scanned the split lip of his friend, his jaw clenched and set in anger.

He fears what he cannot beat and he knows that.  My father once said you can't beat anything until you know what it is you want to beat. I am not so sure Ragir knows what exactly fuels his anger.  Maybe it is because I am better with the sword than him and his family sees that as a weakness.  Will he eventually fear or respect me? I hope so, and maybe these beatings will end.

He said some terrible things about your mother, I am sorry to hear that Ru,

He continues to disrespect me and my family but I see Ragir for what he truly is, a coward and a bully and that stems from what he fears, me, but I will not bow down ever.

Thank you for rescuing me Ru, we could have run, I saw the opportunity.

Rune smiled and wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders.

The difference between a hero and a coward is the direction they run, my friend.  I am never far from you.

I fear they will never stop, he said with a sigh.

I will see that they do, answered Rune.  Come now, let us go and see about getting your lip seen to.  I am not looking forward to the scolding your mother is going to dish out on me.

You just know that she will, laughed Adalatus.

Chapter One

Drink, said Pellipar, thrusting a beaten tankard into the slender fingers of the tall, dark haired man crowded between the gambling tables watching the inked knucklebones being thrown with interest.

The man nodded absently and drained the remains of his first drink, then quickly took a big gulp of his frothy ale before slamming in down on the table.  There was a collective groan of disappointment punctuated by a cry of victory from the winner as one man tossed the bones onto the table and collected the winnings with one sweep of his meaty hand, punching the air in excitement as he did so.

Luck doesn't favor us tonight, muttered Pellipar, leaning in close to the man.  Maybe we should call it a night, I can ill-afford to lose more coin.

Nonsense, slurred Balik, with a fixed stare at the knobbly joint bones of the dice.  It is but a matter of time my friend.

The tavern was busy tonight, packed with dozens of patrons as the bartender, a grizzled old man named Durasak served drinks whilst keeping an experienced watchful eye on his establishment.  In the far corner a heated discussion had arisen between the two men over a split drink, both far gone on heavy spirits. The crowd, sensing a fight, jeered them on trying to stoke up the intensity of the argument.  Durasak stopped cleaning the bar, dropped his rag and moved quickly to calm them just as they balled their fists.  Pellipar couldn’t hear what was being said but the men merely shrugged at what they were told and things died out pretty quickly after that.  He turned just in time to see the knuckbones being rolled across the table to his friend, and watched as his hand snaked out grabbing them, staring with longing at the distinctly identifiable sides of the gnarled shape.

Bali, this is madness! hissed Pellipar, shaking his head grabbing hold of his wrist.

Balik knocked his hand away and shook the bones hard, tossing them onto the table and committing all his hopes to the throw.  In his drink-fuelled mind he pictured the bones landing on the highest scoring joint, avoiding the curved ends of the knuckle and he took a deep calming breath.  They landed on a low score and he slammed his hand so hard down on the table that every cup rattled.  He hissed through clenched teeth, his face flushed with anger and a prominent vein pulsing on his forehead as the winner of the bet looked up at him with steely eyes.

Come, pay up!

Balik fished around in his jerkin for coin, irritation plastered all over his face.  You're nothing but a swarm of ill-bred bores, now, let me concentrate while I count my money,

The man he insulted stood up violently causing his chair to fall back onto the drink soaked floor. You dare insult me! he shouted incredulously.

Do you know who I am? slurred Balik rolling a handful of coins across the table and off the edge.

The man's hand moved so quickly it was a blur as he caught the money, inspecting it closely.

I know who you are, he muttered as he counted.  I've heard your name many times and reputations do not scare me.  I don't think in this state you could even dodge a stick,

You've had enough for today Bali, let’s get you home, sleep it off and come back another day, offered Pellipar, tugging at his forearm.

He is short, shouted the man fingering the coin and pointing at Balik. Pay up!