The Shadow of Eons

Chapter 8

 The King of Escelion was headed for his doom, Jonas knew. He just didn't know how. Would he simply walk into the great hall of the palace and slay all the guards to get to the king? Even with all the Sword of Pale Light's manifest power, it would probably not be enough to slay that many men. And Jonas's face was remembered for his disgrace in that kingdom; he would not sneak through the gates unnoticed.

He remembered his beloved wife Brianna and his heart filled with despair. He remembered her loving embrace, her dear beauty, the embrace they shared after he came home each day, tired from a day's work. And then she was gone, taken by the king for his own, and Jonas had had to run for his life. . .

He ruminated on this as he and Rose pushed their way through woods that gradually climbed the slope of a mountain. They had been heading steadily northwest for leagues now, and the climate was growing colder. Jonas knew that soon they would have to stop, build a fire and hunt for food; the cold was getting into his bones.

Rose was similarly uncomfortable. "Why can't we go south?" she said. "You can kill those men! You told me you slayed a whole pack of wolves!"

"Yes," Jonas admitted as they trod on the frozen ground, skirting around a patch of ice that was in front of them. "But I also fell asleep from exhaustion immediately after killing them. I think the sword I carry is enchanted, and it steals the lifeblood out of a person if he uses it."

"It is a pretty sword," Rose said, kicking a ball of ice into some dark bushes. "It's enchanted? So you mean that's what made you strong?"

"I think so," Jonas said, pushing some branches out of their way as the slope climbed steadily higher. "I was pretty weak before. I was starving." But Jonas had been noticing that he was filling out lately, gaining weight in just a matter of days. He hadn't been eating particularly much, or lifting logs or doing swordwork; just walking. It was like his body was drawing energy from nowhere.

"We're almost halfway up the mountain," he told Rose, wiping his brow, which was dripping wet despite the temperature. "Let's take a break and eat something."

It was when he was on his second slab of dried venison that they heard the howls, starting in the distance and coming closer. "Drat," Jonas said, savagely ripping into the meat with his teeth. "More wolves? I will pass out from exhaustion after I fight them, just like the last time, and I will freeze to death!"

"I will build a fire for you, master," said Rose earnestly. "I will not let you die."

"You will be my last chance, girl," he told her, drawing his sword. It gleamed in the bright daylight, and seemed to hum merrily as he held it before him. The howls drew closer, and then a grey snout poked itself out of the bushes. It was joined by its friend, and then three more after. They stared at Jonas and he stared back, a contest of patience, to see who would make the first strike, exposing himself. Then, at some unspoken signal, the wolves fanned out and surrounded Jonas and the girl.

One of the wolves started to advance toward Rose, but Jonas strode toward her and stood between his ward and the hungry, slobbering beast. "No, you don't," he told it, poking his sword as far as he could in its direction and waving it. "You will not eat her. You will have to get through me first."

As though in answer, the other wolves started closing in on Jonas's other side. They all began growling and slavering; Jonas waved the sword at them wildly, but they would not back off.

"Is this the end, master?" Rose asked him quietly.

"If this is the end, girl," Jonas told her, "then let it be a noble end. Go down fighting and your soul will find its way to The Garden of the Gods."