The Newcomer said nothing. No heavy breath was drawn beneath the black cloth mask. Only a pair of dark merciless eyes peered towards the remaining five Tenaree warriors. Their leader was the Second to the slain Captain. He and his fighters had just returned from slaughtering the weaklings from Palm City who foolishly thought running to the forest would save them.
Yet here in this the raiding camp a strangely clad warrior and his equally strange beast was slaughtering his men! He had no idea who this man was or where he came from. But the man no doubt understood the true nature of battle! No standing on ceremony, no exchange of names, only direct action against the enemy was required. Destroy them and take what had been theirs. That was all that mattered to warriors.
The Newcomer then did the strangest thing. Facing the remaining handful of Tenaree, he put down the seeming invincible shield hard enough so that it stuck into the packed sand standing on edge. With a flick of his arm, he flung the blood of the many men he’d killed off the blade and then sheathed the black sword that cut through shield sword and man with ease.
The Second suddenly realized what the Newcomer was doing. It was a challenge to take him unarmed. The insult was more than he could stand. The Tenaree were warriors of the desert! Life out on the sands and barren rock was hard. Only those hard enough to live, deserved to.
Though single combat with non-Tenaree was forbidden as they were not worthy of the honor, this newcomer was no soft-bellied dweller of Palm! Handing his shield and Spear to the man nearest him, the Second stepped forward only with copper short sword and dagger in hand.
“With the purifying touch of my red blades, I shall sacrifice you newcomer to the mighty Red Spirit!”
Swiftly, the Second let fly a barrage of slashes and thrusts with his copper blades. The Newcomer lightly deflected each attack without countermove or simply side-stepped out of the way. To press his attack, the Second varied up the thrusts and slashes with kicks and elbow strikes. Again, all were countered and the last wide slash was a feint as he used the momentum to bring his short sword down for a head-to-crotch slash.
As he looked up to see his dying opponent, the Second was shocked to see the Newcomer standing a finger’s width beyond the tip of his blade!
“You are no man!” shouted the incredulous Second.
The Newcomer responded with a punch which ended a full arm-length past the Second’s head.
****
N’Sisi was astonished as the remaining four warriors still standing! The headless body of the Second mimicked the falling of its Captain upon striking the ground. She watched the Newcomer relax from the punching position and all four Tenaree fell to their knees as they dropped their weapons. He paused a moment and pointed to one man and gestured to the rest to go. At the sight of three Tenaree fleeing into the forest at best possible speed, N’Sisi was incensed!
“You would let them escape after what they have done?”
The Newcomer cast a fearsome look at the cringing man who then supplicated himself by placing his head upon the ground. Behind them a now enraged N’Sisi came forward with spear in hand!
N’Sisi intentionally got between the Newcomer and his shield. Snatching it up, she was appalled by its weight! She was strong as, if not stronger than many of the warriors of Palm or Sea City. She had not been named a ‘Champion’ and appointed to the Royal Guard for being weak. But the unfamiliar weight of the round shield eroded her confidence ever so slightly.
“You are quite strong to carry a shield the weight of a full water pot!”
The Newcomer stopped and made no move.
“To allow these murderers to go unmolested means you are no friend to my people. Though you have killed many of the enemy, to show them mercy is unforgivable!”
With all her might, N’Sisi hurled the heavy shield at its owner and then thrust with her obsidian spearblade. The warrior anticipated the Newcomer would either turn to catch the shield with both hands or try to leap backwards to avoid her thrust. Either move would see him skewered, but he did neither!
Instead in one fluid action, the Newcomer dropped to one knee while leaning forward. N’Sisi heard and felt her spear blade loudly scrape across his exposed back. To her amazement she realized in his shield hand he’d caught the device edge on while with the other, he’d drawn his sword and deflected her blade!
Instinctively, the warrior leaped to the side and avoided being cut open from belly to spine by the strange, slightly curved black blade! She was now aware her prayer to the Goddess of War had been answered after all. This man whoever he was had been sent from the world beyond to bring down all who stood in his way. Having been so bold as to challenge one sent by the Goddess meant she too ‘stood in his path of impending wrath!’
As she circled him, N’Sisi saw one who far surpassed her in skill and ferocity. Oh what she could learn from him were the circumstances different! Her pride as a warrior would not allow her to throw herself to the ground as the pitiful Tenaree cowards had done. No, she had challenged him and what was done….
Leaping forward, N’Sisi put all her rage towards the Tenaree into her thrust. Either she would kill the Newcomer or he killed her. She felt a sudden jarring shock along the haft of her spear that rode up her arms and rattled her teeth!
To her dismay, the Newcomer did what no other had been capable. With a whirling flick of the black blade, he sheared away a quarter of her spearblade in a shower of shattered obsidian. Following the retreat of his sword, the black shield batted away the shards in an explosion of black glass!
Her forward momentum was too great to stop. She could see as he spun about, the blade would come down in an unavoidable angled arc. With no time or room to dodge or block the weapon, he would take her head! In that flash moment, N’Sisi was sorry she would not have time to smile. This was beautiful a warrior’s death she ever hoped for.
****
Meru watched the two warriors circle each other. Never had she ever believed, let alone witnessed anyone who could truly take the Champion N’Sisi to task in battle! Yet, here was a warrior who came through a hole in the air to slaughter the enemies of Palm and now stood against her nation’s greatest warrior!
Time seemed to slow as if the pair fought underwater. In awe, Meru witnessed their terrifying death dance. Though they fought against each other, the combatants to Meru’s mind could have easily danced together in love. And then…the unthinkable happened.
In a shower of shattered obsidian, the thrice blessed spear N’Sisi won numerous contests in single combat and brought down many a blood-thirsty beast was broken! The warrior did what no other had been able. Then in a beautiful yet terrible pirouette, the deadly dancer was about to take her Spirit Sister’s head….
“Noooooooo!”
****
Blinding light blotted out all sense of space, time and direction. Then within the utter saturation of brightness, a ‘dark’ spot appeared. It hovered as if ensnared in the primordial firmament of light, tiny and insignificant. The dark spot rapidly grew and with it came a sense of both direction and time. In what could have been mere instants or an eternity, the spot transitioned from simple blot to doorway to another world.
The Valley Knight burst through the portal created by Little Fish into a darkened clearing lit by many campfires. His bronze and black striped warhorse reared in reaction to being free of the portal and defiance of the crowd of stunned warriors surrounding them.
To the Knight’s eyes, the situation was clear. The large group of dark warriors were part of the army intending to kill his Goddess Wife and destroy all he held dear. In order to prevent that, these men must die.
****
Five warriors remained out of the thirty the Valley Knight counted when he and his mount launched their attack. Only one had the look in his eyes they could still stop him. It was obvious they’d never seen a horse before, let alone a man riding one into battle.
Their copper blades, spear points and arrowheads were no match for his newly forged hammered steel shield. He had worked with iron for eight years in the Valley with the many smiths who lived there.
One newcomer to the Valley showed him how to create devices out of iron using a special process which led to the forging of steel. Though slightly heavier with the edges scalloped to create a thicker edge to be honed like a sword’s, it was thinner in the bowled center. Instead of being easily pierced or dented, the thinner but stronger metal simply absorbed impacts by bowing inward. The benefit was then the shield would violently return to its intended shape with brutal effect.
Of course, nothing in the enemy’s arsenal thus far bore up under the black Nife’ Metal sword. Copper swords were rent in twain against the blade and wicker shields were effective as nothing against it. After putting his fist through the skull of the last determined warrior, the remaining four men fell to their knees prostrating themselves before him.
Seeing sufficient terror in their eyes, the Knight saw no purpose in killing them. Except for one man he wished to question, the rest were given leave to go. The Knight knew they would spread the tale of what happened this night. The inevitable mix of superstitious angst and disbelief from the telling would fester and grow among their fellows. That would work to his advantage.
Yet, there was one left upon this field of death who still wished to challenge him. It was a fearsome woman wielding an evil looking spear. The man prostrate at his feet dared not raise his head, so the Knight turned his full attention towards the woman.
Five years had passed since he, Chief Svengald and a much younger Little Fish set off down the ‘Dark Road’. The deeds they performed during that quest lent themselves to the great saga told by both the people of The Valley Realm and Aesirfjord.
During the endeavor, he’d fought Vanir warriors, a Demon Witch, rebuked the advances of Death itself and fought a god in defense of his Goddess-Wife. In doing so, he helped plant the seeds for two differing cultures to be born and ‘fathered’ the Valley Realm. Now he’d taken up his weapons to rise against those who would raise their hands against his Goddess-Wife and her 'child', the Valley Realm.
With his blood howling to massacre all who threatened his wife, family and home, the Valley Knight would oblige this woman’s request to meet her ancestors!
To be continued....
© 2016 H. Wolfgang Porter. All Rights Reserved.
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