By the Sword

chapter Fourteen



Ittonifer couldn’t sleep. All he could think about was the war and the vast empire that would be his to rule afterward. He sat up, lighting a candle. The floor beneath his feet murmured for a moment. The gold utensils on his plate tinkled.

He stared at his table. Everything on it was trembling.

Either this is a tremor, or Aterun is up to something.

Ittonifer put his red cape on and picked up his torch, walking briskly down the hall and to the bolted door that led to the warlock’s lair.

He rushed down the stairs and over to the dark cavern where the old magician was sure to be.

As Ittonifer entered the cave, the reflection of his torch’s flame danced off of Jalarn’s armor. Aterun was standing in front of the pool staring at Ittonifer.

“My lord,” they both said.

“And what are you two up to?” asked Ittonifer.

“You will be most pleased,” said Jalarn.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Aterun rubbed his hands together.

“We had first planned to cast a spell on all of the traitors of Malinor, but the process takes much too long. We felt that our energy was put to best use by focusing on one man first. The man that we hate the most.”

Ittonifer nodded. He liked the sound of what he was hearing.

“We have cast a spell on Sanctus’ general,” said Aterun.

“Edandir. He is the worst traitor of them all. Will it kill him?” asked Ittonifer.

“No, not immediately, but we are working on a modification. Aterun has been experimenting with deviations of more minor spells and some of them have worked,” said Jalarn.

Aterun smirked.

“Tell me more,” said Ittonifer.


Jalarn returned to his room much later that night. He and Aterun had finished the enchantment over Edandir, but the modification that would make it fatal would take Aterun another day or more several more hours.

His comfortable bed looked so inviting, but Talya’s scroll needed to be burned. Jalarn reached over to pick it up, and his elbow hit a container of ink. The small bottle tipped over. He cursed and set it straight, but as he did so, his hand hit the scroll and it rolled off the desk.

Jalarn bent to retrieve it. It had unraveled. It was several feet long, and it had the most elegant handwriting that he had ever seen. Someone had taken great care to pen the words of their God.

Beautiful, but rubbish.

As he began to roll it back up, the black ink of one sentence turned the color of crimson. Jalarn rubbed his eyes, certain that he had strained them too much. The writing was still blood red.

He read the scarlet-hued words.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son…

Jalarn nearly jumped back at the words.

Son?

“Burn it, Jalarn!”

Jalarn fought the voice inside his head, reading the rest.

… that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

Jalarn wondered if Talya would explain the meaning of that to him exactly. What did this everlasting life entail?

At any moment, Ittonifer would request to speak with him about the spell over Edandir. Jalarn did have an army to lead, but something deep within him was screaming to know the meaning of those words before he could do that.

Jalarn felt a looming presence surrounding him. It was his lord. The devil. He was not pleased. Still, Jalarn’s desire to have his question answered outweighed his fear of the devil’s wrath. That sentence was like nothing he had ever read before. Wouldn’t it be beneficial to find out what fueled the God followers to be so defiant of the empire?

“I’m only trying to find out why she believes what she does,” Jalarn said. “Then I will set her straight.”


Ittonifer admired the vast legions of soldiers from the comfort of his balcony once again. Jalarn and the commanders were training them well. The time was almost upon him to rightfully take his last enemy and assume full control of the continent.

He sensed that Aterun was coming up behind him and turned around.

The warlock had become annoyingly bold at approaching him unannounced, but he knew why. The old stump believed that he had more power than anyone in the empire. Aterun’s only purpose was to do the dirty work for Ittonifer. He would find that out one day soon.

“What do you want, Aterun?”

“I have come to inform you that your nephew has been neglecting his studies and has resorted to moping around the castle for the last two days.”

Ittonifer frowned.

Jalarn had not moped around anywhere since he had been a scraggly boy in need of bread. The lad wanted nothing more than to become a powerful magician and warrior.

“Was he not with you tonight in the lair casting a spell on General Edandir?”

“Yes. After much prodding from me. He did it to make up for his failure with the giants. Magic was the last thing on his mind before I all but dragged him to the cavern.”

Why would Jalarn be neglecting his evening lessons, of all things? He had been obsessed with magic just a few days ago.

“My nephew had better be prepared to explain, but first I have a task to complete.”


Talya awakened to an echoing screech. The door down the hall had opened. It seemed like it had been ages since Jalarn had left. She had fallen asleep praying for him.

Talya sat up as a tall, masculine figure holding a lantern came to the barred door. It was not Jalarn.

Talya squinted, trying to make out the man’s face. He was much older, with long black hair. His angry black eyes and wicked scowl made Talya almost wonder if it was the devil himself.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage.

“Who are you?” asked Talya.

“You’ve met my nephew.”

“Ittonifer.”

He nodded.

A shiver ran down Talya’s spine and arms as she stared at the living legend. She’d only seen him that one time in the arena. But he’d had on his battle helmet. Here, in person, he seemed even more powerful.

Ittonifer moved to the side as a guard unlocked the door and brought a bowl of steaming soup into the cell. He set it down and left.

Talya eyed it suspiciously. She was famished, but she didn’t want to take it.

Ittonifer stared at her with a knowing grin.

“If I wanted you to be dead, you would not be breathing right now,” he said.

He had a point. Talya was starving, and the soup’s aroma was intoxicating. She suddenly felt dizzy as she slowly crawled over to take a sip from the bowl. It had been too long since she had eaten.

Ittonifer kicked the bowl to the side. Some of the soup splattered on her face. Talya winced as she wiped off the hot liquid with her sleeve.

“You will eat when you agree to listen to reason,” he said.

“Then I will never eat again!”

“The prince has been watching you, Talya,” said Ittonifer, “and so have I.”

She stiffened.

Devilish magic!

“You and Jalarn are equally matched with the sword. You met him in the forest and then spared his life. The prince willed it to be so.”

“That is a lie.”

“Silence! I would kill you where you sit if it were up to me, sword maiden. I know your backstabbing father all too well. Luckily for you, the prince has very special plans for your role here in Malinor. You are a fool if you throw away this opportunity. Many of my warriors would give anything to be in your position right now.”

Her stomach knotted at the idea of the countless other souls sitting where she sat at the mercy of Ittonifer. She was not going to submit to him. Which meant that pain was soon to follow. She knew that much about the man.

“I won’t listen to this any longer,” said Talya.

“Very well. Maybe after some… persuasion… you will change your mind.”

Talya didn’t like the sound of that. Her eyes widened as two soldiers walked into her cell. One carried a box and the other carried a pail of water.

Talya instinctively stood and held out her sword. She was so weak that one of them easily kicked her legs out from under her. She dropped her sword as she landed on her behind. One of the guards retrieved the weapon and gave it to Ittonifer. The other one grabbed her by the shoulders and dunked her head into the ice-cold water.

Talya screamed into the frigid liquid as her body trembled from the chilling jolt. She kicked at the soldier that held her, but he held her firmly in place until she thought that her lungs would burst. He yanked her out and she coughed, gasping for air.

“All of this ends if you will just turn away from your God, Talya,” said Ittonifer.

“Never!” she cried.

The soldier submerged her head again.

Oh Lord, I am going to die.


In the ethereal beauty of the night, General Edandir stood atop a rocky hill that overlooked a great freshwater lake. Nothing energized him more than nature’s beautiful scenery. They had marched for yet another day. Tomorrow, they would attack the Malinorian Empire. He never slept very well the night before a battle, and this battle was the most important one of his life.

Uittan had left yesterday without even an encouraging word regarding Talya. Edandir knew that worrying about her would not help her. Then again, neither would staying up all night.

I always thought that I would get wiser with age.

Shaking his head, Edandir turned to walk back toward the camp.

“Halt!” shouted a voice.

It echoed through the crisp evening air like a whiplash.

General Edandir spun around with his sword already in his hand. He faced a masked Malinorian guard that stood only a few paces away.

“What are you doing here?” demanded Edandir.

“You have something that belongs to me.”

“There is nothing here that belongs to you.”

“I was betrothed to Ittonifer’s daughter, but the wench took off on me. I know she’s with you. If you give her back to me, I’ll leave you in peace.”

“You mean Chrissa?”

“Yes.”

That frail, raven-haired girl was Ittonifer’s daughter? His heart broke for her all the more. She must have been through unspeakable pain being the child of that man.

Edandir pointed his sword at the dog, his heart racing with anger. The brute of a man had to be at least thirteen years Chrissa’s senior. No wonder the girl had run away.

“You take your filthy self away from this camp before I kill you where you stand.”

“Not until I take my prize,” he hissed, withdrawing his own sword.

I should not be surprised that Ittonifer would throw his young daughter away to a dog like this.

“You can’t have her back. That child never was and never will be yours.”

“Child?” spat the guard.

Edandir lunged at him and grazed his enemy’s left forearm.

The Malinorian grunted in pain and then came at him with several fast, aggressive strikes. Edandir blocked all of them.

“By the way, we happen to have something of yours,” said the Malinorian.

Edandir swung for the oaf’s neck.

“Our new prisoner is a pretty little thing. Talya’s her name, I think. Sound familiar?”

Hot, sheer rage surged through Edandir as he stabbed at the man’s leg. He missed this time.

My daughter is right in the enemy’s castle? Dear God!

“They say that Jalarn’s got a bit of a thing for her, but he’s going to torture her until she agrees to side with us. It turns out that even Ittonifer is impressed with her warrior abilities. Can you imagine – a woman? Ha!”

Jalarn has Talya! How dare they use their cruel methods on my beautiful young daughter! I have got to get in there.

Edandir roared in fury and leaped toward his foe.

“Where in that cursed castle is my daughter?” shouted Edandir.

“Why does it matter? You will never see her again anyway. Soon she will be one of us. If not, she will be dead. As will you.”

The blades of their broad swords clashed, and Edandir spun around to strike again, but the rocks under his feet loosened and caused him to fall.

He reached frantically for secure boulders to grab onto as he rolled down the hill. Just as he finally grasped hold of a sizable rock, the Malinorian was standing over him. His last vision was the gauntlet of his enemy smashing into his skull.

Edandir slipped into a world of black.



Naeshi grinned down at his fallen enemy. The general had put up a good fight, but now it was time to make the kill. Naeshi raised his sword, intending to take off the man’s head, but a searing pain permeated his left foot. He howled.

An arrow had been shot clear through his foot. Naeshi growled in anger as he broke the end off and pulled the arrow out from the bottom of his foot. His foot throbbed as his boot became wet.

Naeshi searched the darkness for the coward.

“You had better leave,” said a young man’s voice in the darkness.

“Show you face, you arrow-shooting dastard!” Naeshi yelled.

A slender lad emerged out from behind a boulder. He looked like he was ready to take another shot.

“I see why you’re an archer. You barely have more muscles than a maiden!”

“I suggest that you leave before you find yourself impaled… again.”

“How can you call yourself a man? Fight me hand to hand!”

The lanky archer shook his head and continued to inch closer.

Naeshi realized that the wimp could finish him off with only the release of a finger. He backed away.

“I will leave, but mark my words: I’ll have that wench back if it’s the last thing that I do!”

“She is not a wench. She is a brave girl who did nothing to deserve a monster like you,” said the boy.

He has the nerve to insult me now, but he won’t be so brave when he runs out of arrows tomorrow.

Naeshi turned and made his way back to his new Pegasus steed – the very same one that had once been in Talya’s possession. Jalarn had wanted it, but Ittonifer had given it to Naeshi instead. Things had been going so well until Chrissa decided to flee like a daft pigeon.

Besides reclaiming Chrissa, he would make sure that he killed that weakling archer on the battlefield. Him and his general.


The passing moments seemed like an eternity as Talya’s throbbing head was held under the icy water over and over again. She clenched her fists. Her Savior had undergone far worse torment than she. She would bear it to the end. She had to.

Her lungs burned as she took in a painful breath of water. She yelled into her liquid prison before choking.

The soldier let go of her, and she fell onto her side as she coughed and gasped for air. Her torturer walked away at last.

Talya backed into the corner of her cell and wiped her face. She was shivering from the cold that had permeated her entire body. Her head and chest ached. She could still hardly breathe.

“Headstrong wench!” Ittonifer shouted.

What she had not noticed before was that the other soldier had started a fire. As her vision cleared, she was horrified to see that he was heating up a branding iron.

It angered her how violent these men were. They used pain and fear to get whatever they wanted out of people. Today, they would see that not everyone would give in to such methods.

The soldier that held the red-hot iron lifted Talya’s tattered left sleeve. She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, not bothering to fight.

It could be worse. It’s just temporary pain. This will all be over soon.

“There’s still time to denounce Him, Talya. Unless you want even worse things to happen to you,” taunted Ittonifer.

“No!” she cried.

“Then you shall bear the mark of a Malinorian slave.”

As far back as Talya could remember, she had never cried from pain, but as the hot iron seared her skin for much longer than needed, she wailed.


Chrissa waited outside of the surgeon’s tent with Tanel. She hoped as much as he did that the general would be all right. He was the first grown man to treat her with kindness and respect.

Tanel was also kind. It amazed her how gentle and well-mannered he was. He made all of the Malinorians seem like dogs.

They are dogs. Every single one of them.

Chrissa clenched her jaw. For the first time in her life, she was free. She relaxed when she reminded herself that she was safe with the people of Sanctus – safe to be herself.

A sword near the tent glistened in the moonlight, catching her attention. She walked over to it, admiring the well-crafted metal handle.

“It’s the general’s,” said Tanel as he came to her side. “I have full confidence that he will be using it in battle tomorrow.”

“I still can’t believe that the Malinorian soldier would come all this way to challenge Edandir. He must have known him well.”

“It was a guard, actually.”

Chrissa gasped.

“Naeshi!” she cried.

“I was not going to tell you. I didn’t want you to be upset. He wanted to get you back, but that is not going to happen.”

Chrissa studied the sword again.

“You’re right. It won’t.”

It angered Chrissa that Naeshi had nearly killed General Edandir. He probably would never rest until he found her.

“I promise you that I won’t let that brute take you back there. You are no one’s property.”

Chrissa smiled at his genuine, youthful passion for her well-being. Besides Jalarn, she had never associated with anyone close to her age back home. There had always been a patronizing man nearby that made her feel insignificant or worthless.

An idea formed in her mind, and she looked hopefully at Tanel.

“Do you think the general would let me fight with you tomorrow?”

Tanel’s eyebrows arched in surprise.

“I am well-learned in sword fighting. Ittonifer wanted me to know how, in case the castle was ever attacked and there was no one there to defend me. Or maybe he just did it to pass the time. I don’t know.”

Why he cared enough to show her how to defend herself, Chrissa never knew.

“I don’t know about this,” said Tanel.

Chrissa crossed her arms.

“You must see my skill in action before passing judgment!”

“I trust your capabilities fully, Chrissa, but are you sure you are ready to throw your old allegiance out the window? This is no small thing. You could die tomorrow.”

“Malinor was never a home to me. I will gladly die for a nation that would take me in, despite the fact that I am its mortal enemy’s daughter.”

“I’m not questioning that,” said Tanel.

“Then what is the problem?”

“Are you really ready to die – for any cause?”

“Yes. I may be seventeen and a girl besides, but I have more courage than people realize.”

“Have you ever heard about the Savior – Jesus?”

She shook her head, not knowing where the conversation was going or what it had to do with her fighting against Malinor.

Tanel walked over to a wooden chest and opened it. He grabbed a scroll, holding it as though it were the most precious thing in the world.

Tanel sat down on a log and then motioned for her to sit beside him.

She tried not to notice how the flames from the fire danced off of his handsome, kind face. Tanel stared at her intently and she couldn’t look away.

“So, who is this Jesus person you speak of?”

Tanel smiled.

“Let me tell you about Him.”