Westhaven by Rowan Erlking (ebook audio reader .txt) 📖

Key sighed. He glanced to Tiler urge him to lower his sword. “We have to gain their trust first, fellas.”

Rainold nodded and stepped back. But Berd collected his own sword, tossing one to Weston. Key kicked Berd on the back of his leg to make him stop, but the young man just hopped to the side to get out of the reach of Key’s foot.

“Stop that!” Key snapped, kicking at him again.

Hopping farther away, Berd shook his head. “No chance. I don’t trust them. We’ve had traitors try to turn you in before.”

Rolling his eyes, Key shook his head and turned to the musician. “Don’t mind them. They’re just overprotective.”

“Why?” the tall lake man asked, his eyes narrowing on Key’s face.

Taking off his hat, Key said, “Because there is a bounty on my head.”

“Don’t do that!” Tiler grabbed the hat. He shoved it back on Key’s head.

Key clenched the hat, yanking it off to do what he wanted regardless of what they thought.

Two lake men stared at him, their eyes going wider.

The musician dropped his bag. The lyre twanged with an ill-sounding bang. “Kemdin!”

Key froze then turned. “What?”

The musician reached out and snatched the hat from Rainold. He threw it over his shoulder, pointing at Key’s hair. “Kemdin! Kemdin Smith!”

All at once, the tall lake man teared-up. He threw himself at Key in a tight embrace. And though Tiler first tried to keep that man off, the tall man wrapped his arms around Key and smothered him in a squeezing hug.

“OW! Hurts!” Key only pushed weakly though.

Then the tall lake man pulled back. Clenching Key’s arms with a teary-eyed stare at Key’s hair, the musician tugged at the tufts, practically groping his face. The tall man laughed and cried. “Kemdin! It’s me! Telerd! Telerd Roper! Remember me?”

Key blinked as he stared at him. “Telerd?”

Polan rushed in through the crowd, forgetting the watch on the door. “What’s going on?”

“I thought everyone was killed?” Key murmured, peering from the one man’s face to the other. “The village….”

Sobbing and laughing both, the musician and Telerd Roper embraced Key again. “You’re alive!”

“We saw the wanted posters,” the musician said, laughing as tears rolled down his face. “So we knew you got away. But rumor had it that a demon spider got you.”

Key shook his head. “No. No. I killed the spiders. But…how? Who…what did you say my name was?”

Both lake men blinked. “Kemdin. Kemdin Smith. The son of the smith of Bekir village. Don’t you remember?”

“The Bekir swordsmith’s son?” murmured through the crowd.

Slowly nodding, Key exhaled. “I remember my father, and I remember the village. But some things are still fuzzy. I…. Everyone calls me Key now.”

Their eyes went wider. “You’re the famous Key?”

Key nodded. “Though I don’t see how I’m famous.”

But Telerd shook his head.

“Are you kidding? Edman talks about you all the time. He says you have some kind of genius—that you could…” yet as he said it, Telerd slowed down and stared at Key. “…lead an army.”

“Wow,” the musician muttered. “What happened to you, Kemdin?”

Tiler watched Key carefully.

Key had a distant expression as if he were asking the same thing. Key’s gaze went from his one friend, Telerd, to the other whose name he probably had forgotten, though it didn’t seem too likely. Key just didn’t recognize him grown up.

Key lifted his hand and ran his fingers through his own patchy hair. He sat down again. “I…you…you’re Loid Fisher, right?”

The musician nodded. A smile came and went, his eyes on Key’s sad expression. “I am.”

Key looked around. “Where is Soin? Soin Fisherson?”

Telerd laughed, gesturing towards the far wall. “He’s in the camp. He’s of best use there, besides other reasons.”

Nodding, Key chuckled dryly. “Because he’s a wizard.”

The boys from Herra stared at Key. They gathered closer, watching him.

Telerd and Loid nodded, their smiles faintly there.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Loid the musician said. “Though we didn’t know it until the fire. Soin brought in a fog with the smoke and helped us escape. But you already knew?”

Key nodded, lowering his head. “My dad told me never to make fun of him, you know, like the big kids of the village did. He said Soin was special and if I treated him right I’d see it too.”

They stared. In fact, the entire room was silent. Several people crept closer to listen, but that was all they did.

“You know, he cheated when we skipped rocks,” Key said.

Telerd broke into a laugh. “You noticed that?”

“And in water fights,” Key said, looking up. A smirk returned to his eyes, gazing up as the difficulty of remembering that far back had somehow gotten easier. “He always made the largest splashes. The water did whatever he wanted. And he could smell demons from far away.”

Both men from Bekir Lake nodded.

“That he could,” Loid murmured.

“So,” Tiler stepped forward. “I’m sorry to interrupt—but Key, we are here on business.”

Both Telerd and Loid cast Tiler a glare. They advanced toward him with the inclination to shove him off. Noticing it, Key stood up before they could act.

“Hey! Guys, wait. Tiler is right. And I didn’t properly introduce them to you.” Key then gestured to each one of his traveling companions. “This is Tiler, Rainold, Weston, Polan, and Berd. They’re Herra Hills Raiders. The guys my dad sold his swords to.”

The dark expression in the pair from Bekir Lake’s eyes cleared only a smidgen. Key noticed that and frowned.

“You did say once that you wanted to meet the warriors that used my dad’s swords, right?” Key gazed at them earnestly.

Telerd loosened his fist. Loid relaxed his neck some.

“Thank you.” Key said then took a breath to clear his head. “Ok. A lot has obviously happened to us all. I don’t know your situation, and you don’t know what mine was. So, let’s just talk about now first, and then we can talk about the past later. Right now, I’m here to recruit all of you to join us in building an army against the Sky Children.”

His two childhood pals gave him the incredulous looks he knew well.

“You still think I’m crazy?” Key made a face at them.

Both men nodded, much as they would have years ago.

Rolling his eyes, Key tossed up his hands. “Fine. Why?”

Loid glanced at Telerd who said, “Because, our magic is weaker than—”

“And I said it is not magic, but technology.” Key folded his arms across his chest.

“Kemdin, what are you talking about?” Telerd set his hands on his hips. “What have those demons done to you?”

Key frowned. “What have they done? Telerd, you of all people ought to know that they have done. They killed my father and made me their slave. And for some freak reason I got to learn how they think and what they know. And now that I’m free and able to fight back, I am going to use what I know against them. Why don’t you trust me?”

Blinking, Telerd leaned back. “What?”

Lifting his head, Key nodded. “Trust me. I know those demons very well. I was the slave of General Winstrong.”

Loid clenched his teeth. “General Gole….”

Nodding, Key looked to him. “That’s right. And I can tell you, if we make an army, this time we can drive them out for good.”

Lowering his head, Loid sighed. Telerd also looked dismayed. Both of them still peered at Key as if he had lost his mind.

“This isn’t an issue of trust, Kemdin,” Telerd said. “We have been fighting them for years. Nothing works. A few raids here and there are all we have been able to accomplish. Even that crazy burning up in the Herra Hills everyone has heard about has caused us quite a lot of problems. It was nothing more than a gnat biting at a cow. We’ll be swatted, and then it will be over.”

“Besides, they have better technology as you like to call their magic,” Loid said, watching Key’s shoulders sag from exhaustion.

The Herra men behind Key were growing annoyed with the lake men. Watching Key struggle to keep from banging his head against the barn post, they frowned.

“They have iron carriages,” Loid said. “Magic sticks, and their deadly touch. What do we have against that? We don’t even have a Bekir smith anymore. They stole you away before you could learn everything.”

Key turned from them and walked over to the stick bundle.

Berd happily stepped aside, smothering a grin. His eyes followed Key with private pride. The men of the Herra Hills all took a step back, sharing looks. As Key drew out his blade and sheath, he strapped it to his hip. Then he nodded to his Herra friends. He unsheathed his sword.

Lifting the fine blade so the point shone in the lamplight, Key said, “You mean a sword like this?”

His childhood friends stared at the weapon. Their eyes traced the Bekir Lake design on it.

Loid lifted his eyes to Key’s face.

“My grandfather taught me to make daggers before he was killed,” Key said. “He told me that a dagger was nothing more than a shorter kind of sword. All I had to do was practice, making it longer and longer, sharper and sharper. Then I would be like my father.”

He turned the sword in his hand so they could see it properly.

“What do you think?”

Loid took a step closer, examining the sword. He reached out to hold it.

Key let go of the handle, passing it over with a nod.

Weighing it in his hands, Loid blinked. He then lifted his eyes. “Can I have one?”

Key laughed, patting Loid on the shoulder. “Do you think I’m crazy now?”

“How did you do it?” Telerd came nearer to hold the sword also.

“Key has an impeccable memory for swordsmithing,” Tiler replied with determined offence. They made it clear they were close friends to Key, regardless of diverging opinions.

Loid looked up at Tiler. He then nodded. “I guess so. But,” he then looked to Key, “even with these swords we can’t defeat the blue-eyes.”

Key took the sword from Loid’s hands then stabbed it into the ground. “You want more proof?”

Loid and Telerd backed off. Key reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the pistol.

Immediately everyone retreated from him—except for the Herra men.

“I saw a human use these once. He’s also someone I am looking for,” Key said, lifting the pistol for them to see. “I also watched the Sky Children use these every day. So I now know how to use one.”

Key pulled back the hammer with his thumb, his finger on the trigger. Everyone jumped back further. It clicked—but there was no bang. Key smirked.

“It isn’t loaded.” He opened the gun up to show the insides. “Here is where you put in a bullet and some gunpowder. It is like an arrow, only no shaft.” He flipped it closed, stuffing it back into his coat. “It isn’t magic. It is technology. The Sky Children know things that we don’t, which puts us at a disadvantage. Not magic, but knowledge of things different yet also stronger than magic.”

He then turned to Rainold, nodding. Rainold walked over to Weston to get his pack. He dug through it as Key spoke.

“We have to learn what the Sky Children know to defeat them. That also means learning to read. My friend Rainold has been selected to be your teacher, if you are interested. He is my best student, and he has a better method of teaching letters than I do.”

“To read?” Loid murmured. “You mean you can read?”

Key nodded. “General Winstrong taught me.”

“He what?” Telerd was staring again.

“That’s right,” Key said, watching Rainold take out the pad of paper covered in the letter marks they had practiced. “The old demon taught me, though his reasons for it are not the same as my reasons for using it. Now, if all of you will join us, I can assure you we will have better success against those blue-eyes than we ever had. But you have to trust me. Our army will not be for some half-planned raid. We are going secret-like into enemy territory, gather what we can learn about