Chapter V: The will of a runner

Liriel was staring with disbelief at Jacob’s back. He always had those scars, but this time it seemed to be a much bigger one, like a whip that had struck his whole back, it traveled from his neck towards his bottom. Now she knew why some elders insisted that it was a curse and not a disease, she could not fathom how a natural disease would appear so sudden, so vulgar.

As Jacob was writhing in pain, she felt completely hopeless; she knew nothing of healing, she knew nothing of magic. The best she could do was to offer him the same salve that he had made for her burning. But Jacob had fervently shaken his head no, when she had asked…

The images of her nightmares returned… Charoden burning… Her beloved flag, alone in the tower, being reduced to ashes… Now, a new image has appeared, her father’s words “Protect Jacob”… and here she was, unable to do nothing for her protégée. How was she to help him when she had no knowledge of what ailed him? How was she to stand for her word when her only knowledge was the sword?

An eternity passed, and the new light of the day brought back hope. As the sun rose to illuminate the green fields with his bright light, a feint voice besides her whispered “Let’s go, we have much road to travel, if we have even guessed correctly where we are.”

Jacob’s voice, a voice cracked with pain, but yet, it still hold on to their goal, a Charodian heart she thought. The strength and determination that had made them great was apparent in his crumbled state. The will to never surrender, the power to endure everything. She wiped the clouds of her heart. She realized, that here, today, she was proven wrong. Her might was nothing in front of his heart. She had a long way to travel, but not so as to reach the town they sought, but to reach the courage that branded all the warriors of her clan…

A small yelp escaped his lips when he tried to rest the sword to his back. It would be impossible for him to carry it in his condition. Bitterly, Liriel accepted her new role, as Jacob’s spare luggage.

She felt a little worried about that. They were breaking their assigned roles, even if only temporary; the sword was to be carried by him. For some reason, that made her nervous. She couldn’t identify what exactly evoked such a feeling in her. As she grasped the beautiful blade, she felt a mixture of emotions overcoming her. She felt equally repulsed and attracted to this mundane thing.

This metal had cost her much; her home, her life, her father. They said that it is a symbol of what they are… What they were she corrected herself. She didn’t feel that way. As she gave a last look at Jacob, she decided that their people were bred strong; a blade couldn’t alter their beliefs and strengths. She looked at the other side of the blade, on the second phrase that was intricately etched upon it. It seemed that it had been written when the sword was made, far older than her clan’s motto. It was an ancient language, but most scholars agreed that it said something like “May no red blood stain this blade’s shine”.

It was due to this that Charoden had never involved itself with expansion wars. They seemed to interpret this phrase like they weren’t supposed to kill. The sorcerers attributed the pure stainless surface of the sword to the fact that it had never been used in battle. Of course there was always the opposite view, the one that said that this phrase meant that this blade wouldn’t dull even after countless kills…

Liriel swirled the blade in the air. For some reason she couldn’t grasp it well, like the blade was too light and off balance. But simultaneously she felt a surge of strength, a sense of power filling her. She looked at the massive blade wondering. She knew swords could kill, but this blade had cost the lives of her whole clan. A weapon of mass destruction, a sword meant to either survive or destroy. She feared this blade. They had made Jacob promise not to use it, to not stain it with blood, but she hadn’t promised anything. On the other hand, she couldn’t wield this blade to kill one person; she realized that this was far too petty goal for such a weapon.

As this drifting thought passed through her mind, she saw herself. She wasn’t alone; she was on a mountaintop, one hand wielding the sword, the other the Charodian banner. The flag itself was a little different; the brown mountain on the silver background was painted like a volcano, only it wasn’t lava that which came out, it was blood… Next to her, she saw soldiers, dressed in their traditional armors, charging towards a city’s walls. The sky was blood-red, the clashes of battle were surrounding her, screams echoed everywhere, and for some reason no one carried a shield. She could only attach one word to her vision, death.

As quickly as the vision came, it left. Liriel looked with amazement the sword. Jacob had a huge scar where he used to hang it, when she took it visions overwhelmed her, yet in all their lore, there was nothing about the sword having such kind of powers. She wrapped it in her spare cloak before fastening securely at her back. Her gut feeling was coming too damn right; this blade was far more dangerous than a common sword…

She hid those thought deep within. There was nothing to do about it now. Their goal was a small secluded village, whatever happened to them, they could not abandon the blade. She had to act like a soldier now, she had to focus on the immediate goal; one by one their problems had to be resolved in the directed order. No reason to hassle, no reason to panic. For now, the blade would stay in her back as a luggage, when the time would come, she will have to deal with it, but for now other things must be taken care off first.

By noon her burden had increased tenfold. Now she didn’t only have to carry her own armament and things, but in excess of the extra blade that was lying hidden to her back the small frame of Jacob was resting on her shoulders as they walked. His headaches had returned. His vision had blurred. There was no strength left in him to walk upright, no ability to walk straight…

It worked well in the end. Having to care about the immediate problems, having to push her body to her limits by continuously walking for two persons, worked like a charm. “Yes”, she thought, “I’m a soldier, this is what I do best, act. No thinking in marching is necessary, if you distract your body with passing thoughts it will tire you faster.”

It was well after dark when her power began to betray her. Sometime earlier she had resolved to toss Jacob above her shoulder, like a sack. They were going faster that way. They must have walked for over sixteen hours straight, with only one small break for some food. Her hopes had picked up during the afternoon; the edges of a forest were just visible in the horizon. Jacob was right, he had to be. He had said, when they started, that there should be a forest towards there, and here it was. Maybe the small town he had predicted was there too…

Tiredness overwhelmed her. The moment she closed her eyes she fall asleep. Not even the incomprehensible mumbling that came out of Jacob’s mouth seemed to bother her.

Her body had adapted to their march, a true soldier’s body that responds instantly to the needs of their goal. When the first light broke the darkness, she was already awake. Next to her, Jacob continued to mumble. He was in far worse condition than yesterday; black sacks underneath his eyes betrayed his lack of sleep and glazed eyes flicked in rapid motion around him betraying the total loss of the reality that surrounded him.

Liriel put her hand on him to try to bring him back to her senses, but was shocked. He was burning. She quickly turned him around. He seemed lighter, like a feather as she quickly undressed his upper body. The scar was still there, pulsating vividly scarlet. There seemed to be no evident mark of an infection, but his high fever and his condition said differently. She had to take him to the city immediately, there they could treat him.

She estimated the time that she would need according to his predictions. It would need at least one more day of travel to reach it if she was alone. By the way that he burdened her she would probably need even more.

“Hold on there…” She whispered to his ear. “I’ll be right back.”

It was time to put to test her training to test. It was time to prove to the gods that she could match and even beat even the finest soldiers of Charoden.

As she started running towards her destination the only thought that was in her mind was a phrase from her father.

“One can run for as long as he wishes if he is determined enough, if he has the heart of a warrior. He may collapse afterwards, but this is something for a soldier to judge. We pledge ourselves to our cause. Running is no different than a battle. One must give all he has and simply pray not to die…”

Jacob had such a heart, she knew it. He continued to walk even when plagued by his illness. He continued to stand straight even though he was carrying a much greater burden than what he was accustomed. His belief didn’t falter not even once. Now, it was time for her, to prove to herself that she was from Charoden too.

No food or spare clothes adorned her body. Her blade and the sword of Kaidin, along with little water, were the only possessions that burdened her. She had to run fast, she had to sprint light if she was to reach the city before dark. She may be able to convince them to send a Dragonrider to pick him up then. It was her only hope…