Broadswords - 42. The Dove

Broadswords

Chapter Forty-Two
The Dove

"Sir, this arrived for you via messenger dove." Elan looked up at the guard, who'd entered without knocking. He had told the castle's kingsmen to enter the room immediately should a letter arrive for him and not worry about etiquette. Which meant something was already happening at the cave.

He snatched the small scroll from the guard and unrolled it quickly, letting his eyes scan over the few words written there. He didn't need to, of course. He knew what it said. But the words still sent a shudder down his spine. It has begun.

In truth, he hadn't expected it to happen so soon. His initial estimates of the timeframe were based on breeds he'd encountered in the past. While he knew that this new breed would be unusual, he hadn't fully considered that they'd also develop faster. Not by as much as an entire week, at least.

At the same time, he wasn't stupid. He had prepared his own letters as soon as Daegon and Lana had departed. Not that there was much to them. Each consisted of one simple word: Now. The other slayers would be well aware of what it meant. He dropped the eight pre-rolled messages into the guard's outstretched hand. Everything was already arranged; the guard knew what he was to do at that point.

Elan had debated on sending all eight. Seven, of course, for each of the other slayers aside from himself and Daegon. But the eighth… it was going to Kep. He didn't want Kep to try to intervene or make his way to the cave. The man had so much heart and involvement in the plan, Elan worried that he'd do something stupid. But at the same time, he knew that he had to let him know. It wouldn't be right for him to keep Kep in the dark on everything. After all, none of them would likely even be aware of what was going on at all had it not been for Kep.

He watched as the guard left the room with the haste expected from a Jhirdyrian kingsman. Considering the fact that all of the slayers were within the kingdom walls, the doves would get to them very quickly. Still, there was no time to waste. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood, gathering the few items he had in the room and stuffing them into his pockets.

He'd been recuperating rather quickly over the past couple weeks. Recently, he'd been getting up and pacing around to ensure his leg strength remained intact. Had he not, he expected he wouldn't be much use in battle. The bigger issue though was whether or not the royal apothecary would discharge him from his stay. He felt as ready to go as ever, but he knew that the apothecary had a tendency to be cautious. If he wouldn't allow Elan to leave, he might have to go against the doctor's orders and take off anyway. There was no way he could allow the other slayers to deal with everything without him there.

As if on cue, the old man entered the room. "You're certainly spritely this afternoon," he said, walking up to where Elan stood. "I'm glad to see your motor functions have been regenerating quite nicely."

"It's time," Elan said. He looked at the man with hesitation. He'd grown fond of him over his time in the castle, and didn't want to offend him. But there was no choice in the matter. He needed to leave. "I have to go. I'm ready to get back in action."

"Not so fast," the apothecary said, holding up a hand. "Sit down, I need to check out your vitals. If you're in fighting shape, I daresay I'll be willing to concur. But I can't allow you to leave if I don't see that you've healed enough."

Elan did as he was told. He wasn't about to knock the man out in order to get what he wanted. In any event, he was sure that he'd be where the apothecary hoped he was, health-wise. He sat on the edge of the bed and allowed the man to putter about, checking what he needed to. Elan hated feeling like a child, but unfortunately he'd gotten somewhat accustomed to it during his stay.

The old man put his hand to Elan's forehead, checked his pulse, looked into his eyes. There were several "hmm" and "huh" utterances as he did so, appearing to mentally weigh the results. He jotted a few things down on a piece of parchment, scratching his chin. "Well, Elan. Things are looking pretty good. As I've said before, you're recuperating quicker than I think I've ever seen anyone in similar situations. Not that yours has been all that normal. But I can safely say that you're cleared of any further need for observation. You, sir, are good to go."

"Thank you," Elan said. But there was no time for further pleasantries. He had to get to the cave before it was too late. He darted out of the room before the apothecary had a chance to change his mind.

It was a good thing that Elan's house was so close to the castle. He was able to make it there in short time, which allowed him to gather the belongings he'd need for the battle. In any normal situation, Lana would have been there to get his bag together. But he'd needed her to get to the cave immediately, so he hadn't tasked her with the standard preparations. Thankfully, he always had the basics ready to go. He snatched his bag up from the floor in his weapons room.

Always wearing the same armor, that part didn't take much time. He lifted a chainmail vest from its stand and slipped it over his tunic. It was all he needed. Wearing anything else would just slow him down. Except for weaponry, of course. That he still needed. He eyeballed a few of his most prized swords, but there was no telling which would be right for a slay like this.

He chose his reinforced sword, the one that held his very first weapon at its core. It was always his go-to, and was his favorite. He also selected a couple heavy dirks which could be handy in close combat, as well as a trusted longsword. He tended to favor broadswords, but if there was a chance of finishing these beasts off, an array of weaponry wouldn't hurt. He slung his bag over his shoulder to complete his ensemble.

Feeling decently weighted, he decided that he'd gathered enough. It would do him no good to keep going. If he was too heavy going into battle, it would be to his detriment. He slapped his hand on the ranking list on the wall before leaving, for good measure. It was something he did for good luck before each slay.

His trek to the stables seemed to take longer than it did in reality. With everything going on in his head, and knowing that Daegon and Lana were currently alone with whatever was starting to happen, he felt like time was moving at a snail's pace.

When he finally arrived, he was almost surprised to see Lana's grey steed in the stall next to his own horse. But then he remembered that Daegon and Lana had chosen to head to the cave on foot, as they didn't know how long they'd be out there and didn't want their horses to get restless. Evidently, it wouldn't have mattered much. But it was probably still for the best. Too many horses around that many dragons would only cause more chaos, more distractions. And horses were very instinctual around dragons. During a battle that would be as epic as this one, horses would get too spooked and get themselves killed, only adding insult to injury.

Despite the relatively short distance, Elan didn't have the luxury of leaving his horse behind. He had to get to the cave as quickly as possible, regardless of if the inclusion of his mare would complicate things. If he didn't get there before it was too late, it wouldn't matter.

By the time he'd arrived at the edge of the wood, there were already two horses there. Two of the other slayers had arrived before him. He was thankful for this. He had given them a general idea of how to get to the cave; the route over the plains was easy enough to explain, but he had only hoped that they'd decipher how to navigate through the trees and hills based on the landmarks he'd referenced.

He fastened the reins of his horse to a tree branch a short distance from where the other two were stationed. He gave himself a handful of seconds to steel himself, but nothing more. This was it.

He weaved through the woods as quickly as he could. Though he was feeling much better, the Sanguistis had done a number on him. There was still a tenderness to his muscles and a stiffness to his joints. He hadn't noticed it much until now, but he had to push through it.

It wasn't long before he heard the roar of a dragon permeate through the trees. It almost caught him off guard, but he didn't let himself react to it. That part was normal. And he was close. He forged on, feeling the heat increase as he did so. And the heat was followed by the fire.

He was maybe halfway to the cave when he saw the flames. There in the distance, right around where the cave was, he could see the reds and oranges flickering through the tree trunks. That was a lot of fire. It wasn't good for battle, but it would be a beacon toward where everything was happening. The remaining slayers would certainly have no trouble finding the place. If there was anything left to find by the time they arrived.

Feeling beads of sweat forming on his forehead, he continued to close the distance between himself and the battlegrounds. He'd been involved in a lot of slays, even a few that had taken place in wooded areas such as this. But this was different. The fire seemed hotter. Some of the trees were so tight-knit in the area that the whole woods could be destroyed in a very quick span of time. Either this new breed held more firepower than any others he'd encountered in the past, which was plausible, or else more than one had already emerged.

Finally, he broke through to the clearing that stood before the cave. The entire area was surrounded by burning trees. A large dragon rested near the edge, clearly dead. Blood was still seeping out of wounds in its leg and throat. Two more were stamping around, their necks and tails waving about haphazardly. He had to look around frantically before he saw any of his allies. But there, facing off against the further of the two beasts, he saw Daegon and Lana holding their ground. He let out a quick sigh of relief.

He saw another figure running around the closer dragon. It was Tayrick, the second-ranked. It wasn't surprising that he was one of the first to arrive. Who did the other horse belong to, though? He continued to survey the area. He could just make out two men in the distance, past all of the chaos. One of them was the peddler that had talked his way into selling the Sanguistis to him. The other, he assumed, was Elsior. Bastards.

Dropping his bag to the ground, he unloaded his weapons alongside it and decided to start with his reinforced sword. He held it as firmly and steadfastly as ever. One thing that always felt right to him was a weapon in his hand.

It wasn't until he ran out amidst the battle that he saw the owner of the other horse. It was Von. There on the ground, midway between the two monsters, was the body of the third-ranked slayer. The top half of his body was scorched. He was dead.

Elan didn't take time to mourn the loss. It wasn't the first time he'd been involved in a slay which had resulted in a death, and it would likely not be the last. Any casualty was a tragedy, of course. Regardless, there was not time to think about it. That was exactly the kind of mistake that would cause additional deaths.

But it did mean that these dragons were no joke. If they'd already defeated one of the kingdom's best slayers, they were going to put up a hell of a fight. Which Elan had anticipated. The fact that one of the dragons was also dead, though, meant they had a fighting chance.

Since Daegon and Lana seemed to be doing alright with their dragon, Elan chose to join Tayrick at his. Ignoring the tenseness in his muscles, he leapt into the battle with the deftness he always displayed. Though he was fighting alongside the best of the best, he couldn't rely on them. He had to be the number one slayer he was, and he wasn't going to let this thing be the end of his kingdom.