[Quiet Man Cometh]

Rumours and death were laid like a trail of bleached bones. At early dawn, the sun and moon contesting for the sky, the knight, horseman, and priestess chance converged on a high plateau; a rocky hillock rising from a mountain wood. Standing at the edge was Cor, gazing over the cliff.

Sir Roderick approached cautiously, foot by foot, trying to get a measure of this so-called fragment. Gripping the pendant he searched for the clarity of purpose and announced his intent, but his voice was drowned by the sudden, swift beat of horse hooves. A sure voice called out behind him, “You are found, assassin! And you shall not escape me again!” Yaric galloped his horse up to prance next to Roderick. “You are a warrior of a god that claims justice. Help me kill him.” He pointed at Cor with his unsheathed longsword.

Sir Roderick looked up at the horseman and nodded. “It seems you have something to answer for. Identify yourself!” he called to the man by the cliff.

A thin breeze lifted out of the grass and rustled the feathers on Cor’s shoulder, and both warriors watched in surprise as what looked to be a duellist’s mantle shifted and stretched into a sooty black wing jutting from his right shoulder-blade. “What are you?” Roderick breathed as Cor turned and walked away from the cliff edge. In front of him he held the largest and most bizarre weapon that Roderick had ever seen.

Cor tilted his head to one side. “I am a child, like you.”

“What?”

“A son. Mother gave me a gift; a human life to live. I will be her devoted since the rest of you have forgotten her.”

Hesitating, Roderick recalled Mallin’s words. “I know what you are up to. If you stay your present course I will stop you.”

Cor shook his head. “You could not stand against me, not you or all the others. You have forgotten the value of your own life.”

“What do you mean?”

Beside him, Yaric grew more agitated.

“What is this?!” Yaric glared from Roderick to Cor, frustration etched on his face. He urged his cob in front of Roderick and raised his sword. “Defend yourself if you feel you have the right!” He kicked his horse into a charge. Cor beat his wing, hovering across the ground and further from the cliff. He flashed the broad side of his weapon and levelled it at the steed. The cob tried to halt its charge on the slick grass but its hooves began to slip and it instead thrust its head straight out, small tufts of its forelock flitting in the air as Aldur skimmed over its forehead and into the horseman’s shield. Yaric arched back, his shield crumpling and the blow throwing him from his saddle. He hit the ground hard. He forced himself to his feet as a loud shriek ripped through his ears as Cor kicked the warped piece of metal from Aldur’s twin blades.

“You do not fear me. Do you think your gods will bring you back?” Cor asked with disdain.

“Valorus be merciful!” Roderick drew his own sword and raced to aid the staggering horseman. He swung his blade overhead and connected with Aldur in a clarion ring that sent shock-waves through his gauntlets. Cor’s wing slammed into Roderick’s chest, forcing the knight back as Cor spun around to engage him face to face.

Yaric hurled himself back on the cob and renewed his charge. He leaned out from the saddle and swung hard over Cor’s head, black feathers buffeting at the horse’s face and nose. The animal shied away and Yaric abandoned his attack, leaping from its back to rejoin Sir Roderick on foot.

The shape of the horse had loomed above the two combatants and was gone just as quickly. Roderick now found himself facing Cor alone. He diverted Aldur’s heavy sweeps with guiding blows from his blade, each one jarring his strength a little more.

With each pass of the blade, Roderick could see Cor’s serene face between the razor edges. Roderick back peddled as Cor swung low, instinctively curling as Aldur cut across his armour with a quick scrape, shaving a line in the shining metal. Cor’s knee came up and slammed the knight in the side of his jaw. Fighting the miss-matched eyes, Roderick thrust his sword through the gap between Aldur’s blades. The calm on Cor’s face broke as the Roderick’s sword pierced his shoulder. He grunted and twisted his weapon hard, wrenching Roderick’s blade from his hands and curving Aldur in a downward arc. Thrown down from the force of the blow, Roderick raised his arm to block, connecting with the blade vertically behind his wrist. Roderick swooned in pain as he felt the gauntlet crumble, the metal splitting and curving into the flesh of his forearm. He heard the hiss of his own blood spattering Aldur’s blades, his nose clouding with the smell. Reaching up with his other hand, Sir Roderick gripped Aldur just above Cor’s grasp and heaved on the weapon. As soon as he gripped it his arm buckled and he had to force the hold. His muscles went into spasm as a tangible force thundered down his arm, thudding internally like an electric jolt. He kicked out one of Cor’s legs and pulled hard on the weapon, finally driving it into the dirt just above his head. Cor backed away as Roderick rolled quickly to the side and regained his footing, the world throbbing before his eyes.

“You see?” Cor announced, with a face looking for understanding.

Yaric pounced from behind, swinging at Cor’s pierced shoulder. Cor latched onto Yaric’s longsword, lines of blood running from his fingers as he forced the weapon wide and yanked Aldur from the earth.