Quest for Knowledge (Volume 1 of the FirstWorld Saga) by Christopher Jackson-Ash (chromebook ebook reader txt) 📖

the sword Kin Slayer, which shall be your bane unless you and your army surrender immediately.” Simon was dressed only in a simple white loincloth, hastily donned. Kin Slayer remained sheathed at his side. The five companions stepped forward, so that they were between Manfred and Weylyn.

“You!” Weylyn spat. “So we meet at last, Red Boy. Are you ready to join Dammar to become my undead slave for eternity?”

Simon was outwardly calm. “I give you one final chance, Weylyn. Throw down your whip and surrender and I will spare you. Otherwise you WILL die.” I hope I appear more convincing than I feel.

Weylyn laughed crazily. “You! Look at you! You are a skinny boy. You model yourself on Dammar. He was ten times the hero you are and I swatted him like a fly. You will pay for your insolence when I have you.” He drew back his arm and coiled his whip.

“Back, all of you!” Simon yelled, jumping forward. A small voice in his head spoke to him. Your right arm. He followed its command and clumsily drew Kin Slayer with his right hand. The whip curled and darted towards him. He met it with Kin Slayer. The whip wrapped itself around the sword. It was the battle with Manfred’s staff all over again. This time the ruby on Kin Slayer’s hilt glowed red, while the whip changed colour from green to yellow to purple to crimson to white. Kin Slayer sang as the whip shattered and Weylyn was pulled off horseback to the ground.

Weylyn must have been surprised by this unplanned turn of events, but he wasn’t beaten yet; he transmogrified into his wolf form, and now appeared as a cross between a wolf and a man, a hideous werewolf. He was eight feet tall; long fangs, dripping with poison; a wolf’s body and paws; standing on his two hind legs. His red eyes darted this way and that, seeking an escape route. He turned towards his army and ran towards them, expecting them to part and let him pass. They stood unmoving. He howled in fury and turned back towards Simon. He had one chance. Even in his animal form, he knew that. If Simon were the Everlasting Hero, he could not be killed while he held the sword. He must be disarmed. Weylyn took a huge risk. He darted towards Simon and jumped, as if making for the boy’s neck. Instead, he twisted in mid air and sank his teeth into Simon’s right arm. He had evaded the sword. Victory could still be his.

Simon screamed in agony, from a combination of the fangs sinking into his flesh and the poison being pumped into his veins. He had misjudged the wolf’s jump and he had been clumsy with Kin Slayer in his wrong hand. Just as he was about to drop the sword, he grabbed Kin Slayer with his left hand and felt a flood of energy from the sword that helped him overcome the pain. Weylyn’s jaws were still clamped around Simon's arm when Kin Slayer entered his body and found his heart. Weylyn was still savouring the sweet taste of victory and the red boy’s blood when his soul was snatched from his body and consumed by Kin Slayer. The wolf’s body fell to the ground, shrivelled and turned to dust. On the city wall, a small cat purred with pleasure.

Simon, injured though he was, wasn’t finished yet. Kin Slayer needed to feed some more. He turned on the massed army of the undead and began to put them out of their misery. They seemed no longer to have purpose and fell on the sword willingly. He scythed through their ranks as the rest of Weylyn’s army turned and fled. Their commander tried to regroup them outside the city, but there was a further surprise awaiting them.

Manfred, still stunned by his narrow escape from death and the rapid turn of events, struggled to his feet. A retainer rushed through the gate. He spoke excitedly to Manfred. “My lord, come quickly, you must see this. There are four armies approaching the city.” Manfred looked blankly at the servant. More surprises! What now? “Who are they? What flags do they carry?”

The servant took a couple of deep breaths. “An elven army approaches from the east. Queen Ceridwen leads it. They carry the standard of the blue eye. It is the army of Jeohab. A dwarven army approaches from the west. It is led by King Dia son of Din son of Dane. They carry the flag of the red ‘A’. It is the army of Satania. From the south comes an army of humans. They fly the flag of the City States but superimposed on the flag are the blue eye and the red ‘A’. The army of Tamarlan comes from the north. They too have the symbols of law and chaos marked on their standard.”

Manfred led the companions back into the Keep. They climbed to the top of the High Tower where they could observe the battle. All except for Kris, who went to have a bath and a change of clothes first. It was a one-sided contest. Weylyn’s army was already broken by the loss of its leader. The undead portions of his army were released from their slavery by Weylyn’s death and found their eternal peace at last on the blades of their erstwhile enemies' swords. The living had no stomach for the battle. It was carnage and many of the enemy were allowed to flee as the four armies showed mercy. No mercy was shown to the chaos creatures, which alone put up a decent fight. Simon and Kin Slayer showed no mercy either until the sword was sated. When he returned to the keep he was again red with blood, some of it his own. Without Kin Slayer’s energy to support him, he collapsed. He was taken to Manfred, who was busy treating the many wounded from the battle. Manfred was still treating Simon when the leaders of the four armies arrived.

Manfred jumped up and embraced them all. “Well met, my friends. Your timely arrival was a great tonic. It was unlooked for. I would like to know how you all coordinated such a wonderful coincidence?”

“It was no coincidence. Surely, you know that? Your messenger came to us and requested our aid. He told us when we had to be in Elannort and the route to travel,” Gamyon said.

“We received a similar message,” Ceridwen said.

“We followed the instructions of your messenger and allowed Weylyn’s army to pass through the City States uncontested. We then marched to Elannort as per his instructions,” Velacourt said.

“Your messenger showed us the dimension portal within First Delve and told us we should leave FirstWorld. He directed us to another realm where we discovered that dwarves still live and prosper. He told us to raise an army and gave us instructions how to return. We returned to FirstWorld through a portal on the Fools’ Road and marched to the city,” Dia son of Din son of Dane said.

Even in the haze of his pain, Simon saw that Manfred was nonplussed by these developments. Who has been acting on our behalf to help us? Simon remembered how they had thought they were being followed when they travelled to Dishley. He remembered the two-headed lemur creature that had spoken to him. Even today, where had the thought come from to use his right hand? He had thought it must have been Manfred, but perhaps it wasn’t. He drifted off to sleep with too many questions running through his head and the last words he heard Manfred speak registering in his ears.

“It would seem that fate, or some other entity, has arranged for today’s actions to play out. Has the prophecy been validated or rewritten? The three armies were present today, but they chose to take the same side to defeat evil. Would that it were always so. Will the pattern be repeated? There is much to think about.”

Next day, the reduced numbers of the Council of War met around the oak table in the Great Hall at Melasurej. Dammar and Captain Ventris had fallen in the battle. The surviving members were joined though by Simon Rufus, Kin Slayer proudly scabbarded at his side; Ceridwen Queen of the Elves; Dia son of Din son of Dane, King beneath the Mountain; Gamyon Regent of Tamarlan; and Lord Velacourt representing the City States. Simon was surprised to see Velacourt again. He seemed like a new man in more ways than one. He had lost a great deal of weight and he had, according to reports, acquitted himself well in battle. Kris the Bard had been allowed to join the meeting, in his new capacity as official scribe. Simon sat with Jhamed on his left and Kris on his right. His bandaged right arm throbbed in pain, but Manfred had assured him he would recover fully. Ceridwen, Simon noted, was as beautiful as ever and she had the usual physical impact on him. She addressed the meeting.

“The representatives of the four armies and the three races have agreed that Manfred the Magician, the last of the Wise, be appointed our Commander-in-Chief and Chair of the FirstWorld Council of War. We salute you for your valiant efforts, which resulted in victory at the Battle of Elannort, year of creation 50506.” She bowed low to Manfred and the other committee members clapped and cheered. Simon, smiling, joined in. So much has happened in such a short time. I’m so glad that Jhamed, Dawit, and Taran made it through with me. Kris too, he’s a hero now instead of a coward. I wonder what changed him?

“I thank you for your confidence and for the great honour that you show me. We may have won this battle, but the war has only just begun. The Final Battle may yet be fought here, but the next stages of the war must be waged in other dimensions. We must understand what Gadiel is doing and attempt to thwart him.” Manfred paused and looked at Simon. “I’m afraid that the load is going to fall on the Hero and his companions.” I thought so. No rest for the wicked. “That is for the future. Tonight there will be a great feast. We will honour those who gave their lives in the battle to save Elannort. We will remember the Great Sage Dammar. We will salute the four armies of FirstWorld who came to our aid in our darkest hour. We will thank those amongst us for their courage in battle. Our official bard, Kris, will recite his latest work, describing the Battle of Elannort and the fall of Weylyn the Traitor.” Beside him, Simon felt Kris squirming in embarrassment. He looked forward to hearing the story.

Above them, on the ceiling, the symbol of the Balance had tipped. It was a little closer to equilibrium than it had been before, but was still heavily weighted towards Chaos. On a soft chair, hidden from view by the table, a small cat pummelled the cushion and purred quietly to itself. It was no ordinary cat; it had small wings that it folded into its back so that they were hidden by its golden fur.

Simon looked at Jhamed. The little man had cleaned his hat and put a new feather in it. His black curls were stuffed under it untidily as usual. His long arrogant nose made him look like an eagle about to strike. Simon smiled and put his good arm around his friend and gave him a hug. If they were going to go travelling through the dimensions, he couldn’t think of a better person to accompany him.

Afterword

The music playing on the radio stopped suddenly to be replaced by a stern male voice. “We interrupt this program to bring you a news update. With just six hours to go until the US imposed deadline for enemy forces to fall back to designated