Swords of Darkness

Foreword

A LOT HAS CHANGED in the world of publishing since I began writing professionally in 2005.

No longer do writers need to spend decades perfecting a manuscript or paying membership dues in writers clubs in order to get published.

No longer do writers need to spend thousands of dollars to send their book to a vanity press, only to be left with a garage full of unread manuscripts.

No longer do writers need to force their work to fit someone else’s idea of what a fantasy novel should be.

No longer do writers need to worry about anyone but their readers.

Swords of Darkness came to fruition because I wanted to be on the compilation side of writing. I wanted to see what a few good prompts could pull out of writers, whether or not those writers had ever signed a book deal. I wanted to see how different authors would interpret the same set of guidelines and create a story worth exploring, worth reading, worth pondering.

I wanted to see what would happen when writers stopped worrying about following the rules and just worried about creating something worth reading.

Swords of Darkness is an anthology compiled of nine different stories by nine authors whose work ranges from traditional to contemporary, but whose stories all share one important element: the idea that a sword is powerful.

Not every sword is magical.

Not every sword plays a central theme.

Not every sword is the motivating factor of the story.

But a sword holds something few men can handle on their own: power beyond our wildest dreams.

Join me now in Swords of Darkness and explore a world where you’re on a hunt for the greatest catch of your life.

Explore a world where the only thing that matters is winning fair maiden’s heart.

Explore a world your family has hidden away for generations.

Explore a world that you’ll surely die in, if not for your sword.

L.C. MORTIMER

December 2015

The Price of Ambition

Charles Jake

DEX!

Dex snapped awake, dagger in hand, as the pounding on the flimsy boarding house door jarred him from a welcome, deep sleep. It took him a moment to realize that the voice shouting his name belonged to his beloved, obnoxious cousin Monte. That realization did little to subdue the murderous thoughts in his mind as he crossed the room, unlocked the door, and jerked it open. Monte froze, his fist raised to hammer on the door yet again. Dex saw that his cousin was dressed for action. He was clad in a gambeson, mail, and lobster-tailed helmet. The hilt of his two-handed sword peeked over his right shoulder.

Get your gear on, he said. He barged in heavily without waiting for an invitation. I’ve found us a job.

Who told you I wanted a damned job? Dex asked, trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

"I know you’ll want this one. It’s 15 livres for 2 months work."

Dex was suddenly wide awake. 15 livres for 2 months work?! A skilled laborer might make one livre per month. That’s too much money.

Monte looked at his cousin quizzically. There’s no such thing.

Dex shook his head. Either they want us to do something shady or they don’t expect us to live long enough to collect. Whichever it is, that kind of money is meant to keep you from asking questions.

"Well it just so happens that I did ask questions. Shann’s ship has put into port. He’s got a passenger that will pay him an obscene amount of money if Shann can get him to Urtonia within thirty days–"

That’s almost impossible, Dex interrupted. He’d spent more time at sea than Monte. The only way he’ll even have a chance is if he sails through the Brigand’s Gate-

-which is why he needs extra fighters onboard. I actually thought this through and asked everything we need to know. Now, the tide will be going out in the next hour or so, so get your damned gear on and let’s get rich.

Dex had to admit to himself that Monte had a knack for finding well-paying jobs, even if some were morally questionable. Dex’s scruples had kept him from taking a few of them. After all, he was in this life with hopes of earning enough to gain his knighthood, and knights lived by a code. Sir Grigorie had drilled that into them along with his lessons at arms. And though he had been like a second father to the two men, he wouldn’t dub them until they could afford their own equipment as he had.

I hold my knighthood dear because of what it cost me, He’d said. As will you. And so they hired out their swords in search of enough coin to purchase horses and proper equipment. Dex didn’t fail to note the irony that Monte was better equipped and closer to knighthood because he was willing to take jobs that paid well, even if they tested the boundaries of the code. Maybe it was time Dex followed his cousin’s lead.

Dex stalked over to the small closet and put on the gambeson his late mother had stitched together for him. Monte helped him into his boiled leather cuirass and strapped his shield across his back while Dex donned his halfhelm with a nasal guard.

Lastly he strapped on his sword belt and tucked the dagger into its empty sheath. He then drew his sword to inspect it. It hadn’t improved any since he’d sharpened it last night. It was a bastard sword, with a crudely forged blade. The hilt was of some dull, dark brown wood that resisted all attempts at polishing. The crossguard had garish brass discs on either end, and the pommel was a larger, even more garish piece of brass worked into a shape approximating an owl’s head.

His father had taken it off of a ruffian he’d been forced to kill during the Conscript Riots before Dex was born. It wasn’t much of a prize, but it was the only sword his father was ever going to own. If this job that Monte found paid off, he could change his fortunes as his father hoped he would.

Monte frowned at the sword for the hundredth time. Aren’t you going to take your longaxe?

Dex shook his head. No, there’ll be no room to use it properly aboard ship. Besides, Shann has boarding pikes.

Well in that case, you can carry these. Monte shoved Dex’s bow and quiver into his hands, grabbed Dex’s knapsack, and the two stepped into the hallway. Dex turned toward Widow Gaultier’s rooms to pay his rent, but Monte stopped him. I took care of your rent for the next two months. Don’t worry about paying me back. If this job goes well, I won’t miss it. If not, I still won’t miss it.

Here, he said, handing Dex a small bag. I brought some honeyed figs for you to eat on the way to the docks. I figured you’d be sleeping in and wouldn’t have time to eat before we headed out.

Thanks, Dex said warmly, noting not for the first time how hard it was to stay angry with his cousin. If this job turned out as well as they hoped, he’d never speak an angry word to Monte again. Despite Monte’s assurances, he still had some doubts about why anyone would pay them over a year’s salary for two month’s work, but the idea of coming into so much money went a long way toward quieting those doubts. Besides, he was confident that together they could get out of any trouble they encountered just as they always had. 

They finally got to the docks and had no trouble finding Shann’s ship: the Green Eagle. The large galleass with distinctive green sails and a proud eagle carved into its prow stood out even amongst the riot of colors that made up the harbor.

It’s about time you two showed up! A familiar voice called from the ship.

Rennae! shouted Dex and Monte in unison. They raced up the gangplank and embraced their comrade in arms. Rennae was another young would-be soldier of fortune. The three had worked together several times before and had grown to trust one another. Rennae was brusque, plain spoken, and utterly fearless. He wore a jack of plates and was armed with sword and shield. He also carried four iron throwing knives with multiple blades that stuck out at all angles, which he could hurl with deadly accuracy. On a voyage as potentially dangerous as this one, Dex couldn’t have hoped for better companions.

Dex also greeted Welton, the green eyed, immaculately coiffed, and somewhat annoying lookout that usually manned the crow’s nest, and La’ma the full-figured, raven haired healer who always seemed to be wearing a smile.

I’m glad to see you two, said Rennae quietly. Shann had to hire swords in a hurry, so he took what he could get. I don’t know any of these men.  The dozen men-at-arms and three archers milling about the deck were unknown to Dex as well.

Just then they heard the door of the captain’s cabin open and Shann stepped out. His hair was matted and unkempt, as usual, and his shirt and trousers were about a size too small. He had taken the Green Eagle as a prize during his days as a privateer, and his gambling debts kept him at her helm running questionable jobs like this one. He must’ve seen this passenger’s offer as a chance to get his finances in order.

Thank yer lucky stars ya beat the client here, Shann said. He ain’t joking about this deadline. I would’ve had to put to sea without ya. He looked toward the gangplank. Here he comes now.

They all turned to get a look at the client. He was starting up the gangplank at the head of his small entourage. The client was a short, pale, fleshy man who wore a plain but well-made travel suit. The only adornment he wore was an enormous ring on his left hand.

Dex took in the rest of the entourage. Immediately behind the client, three figures made their way up the gangplank with their own distinctive gait. Behind him to his right a lantern-jawed, muscular woman in brown roughspun and armed with a winged spear strode up the plank, her wary eyes sweeping the deck for any sign of trouble. Behind and to his left, a woman with pockmarks and craters all over her face seemed to float her way up the plank. She wore a heavy, black woolen robe with her hands tucked into her wide sleeves. Between them was a figure in a gray, loose fitting hooded robe. So baggy was the robe that he couldn’t tell how old the figure was, or even whether it was male or female.

The spearwoman had a firm hold of one arm. Whether it was to assist with boarding or prevent escape, Dex couldn’t tell. Two cold-eyed warriors brought up the rear. One was swarthy with black hair and drooping mustachios. The other was clean shaven with thinning blonde hair. He was tall and powerfully built. Both were armored in plate and mail and armed with two-handed swords and repeating crossbows.

Those two look like they’ve killed more people than consumption, whispered Monte. Dex nodded, Rennae was impassive.

Shann had gone to help the client onto the ship. He ignored the rest of the entourage.

TWEET!

Shann’s piercing whistle cut through the various murmurings going on around the ship. Awright, lissen up! Our passenger has something to say before we shove off!

Dex got a closer look at the client as he stepped forward to speak. The ring flashed in the sunlight as he compulsively wrung his hands. It was made of gold and crusted with rubies and emeralds. Peering as closely as he dared without seeming too obvious, Dex saw that the gems were in the shape of a rose growing out of a human heart.

Thank you, Captain. I am called Harnesh. I am financing this journey, and so your captain has agreed to allow me to set some conditions for the time I am aboard your fine vessel. First, my guards’ only charge is to protect myself and the contents of the cabin. They will take no part in the defense of the ship unless we come under immediate threat. I have every confidence that the men Captain Shann has hired will meet any challenge we may encounter.  

Secondly, Harnesh continued. The captain has agreed to allow me the exclusive use of his cabin. I must insist that no one enter, or even approach the cabin, for any reason. I have my own healer, and we will see to our own meals. I am a-afraid, he stammered and mopped his brow with an exquisite silk handkerchief, I am afraid that if anyone violates this condition, my bodyguards will have no choice but to strike you down where you stand.

Oh, I’d like to see them try, muttered Rennae.

But I’m sure it won’t come to that. I wish us all a pleasant voyage. And with that he ducked into the cabin. The hooded figure hesitated for just a moment before being hustled gently but insistently into the cabin and the two warriors took their posts on either side of the cabin door. Harnesh re-emerged with a wineskin and a jeweled goblet festooned with grotesque, fantastical creatures the like of which Dex had never seen.

Harnesh poured some liquid into the goblet and gave it first to one guard, and then the other. As they drank, their already dull eyes took on an inhuman glazed appearance, and their posture became unnaturally straight. They stood stock still and somehow seemed impervious to the rolling of the ship or the buffeting of the wind. Only their breathing betrayed the fact that they were living men and not statues.

Dex looked at his cousin with a mirthless grin. Still think you’ve asked all the right questions?

Yes, indeed, Monte replied. ’How much are we getting paid?’ Dex rolled his eyes and let the matter drop.

As they put to sea, things settled into the usual patterns of life aboard ship. The men sang, gambled, laughed, drank, cursed, and fought. Dex, Monte, and Rennae all found the other hired men pleasant enough company. Because Harnesh and his entourage were the only cargo, the ship was well-provisioned. This served the dual purpose of keeping the men happy and avoiding the need to put into port to replenish their stores.

Harnesh would emerge from the cabin at the same time every day to give the two warriors a draught from his goblet. Except for what they took from Harnesh’s goblet, they neither drank nor ate. They also didn’t speak or piss. The spearwoman emerged three times a day to collect food for the cabin’s