The Cavalier by Jason McWhirter Read Free Book Online Page B

back? Why would a Banthra be in the mountains to gather a small army of boargs? Surely a lesser minion could handle that job.
    One of the few things that gave Airos pause was a Banthra. Banthras were fallen cavaliers, cavaliers who were captured by Malbeck and twisted into his servants many years ago. It was thought that they had all disappeared when Malbeck was defeated, but they had reappeared with dire consequences for Kraawn. Reports of orcs, goblins, trolls, and other monsters, moving from the Black Lands and the Mazgar Forest, have been whispered from city to city all the way to Annure. Evil was definitely growing in the northeast near Banrith, Malbeck’s old stronghold.
    Traveling bards tell stories of the great wars, over a thousand years ago, when Malbeck had captured six cavaliers. He tortured their minds and bodies until there was nothing of the original warriors left. Airos hoped that the High One had protected their souls; he had to believe that He did, for he had faith in Ulren. Nonetheless Malbeck used magic to twist their minds and bodies into demon-spawn. After many years of this torture the six cavaliers became the black knights of Malbeck. They had the power of a cavalier, but their magic came from the black gods that constantly try to possess the hearts of men. It was not an easy task to create these powerful warriors, but Malbeck was a follower of the Forsworn, the three evil gods of Kraawn, and they had given him great power so that he might rule Kraawn in their name.
    These gods represent the dark side of existence. There is Gould, the Tormentor, high evil god of lies, anger, jealousy, and power. Naz-reen is goddess of the dark, stealth, plot, and murder. Then there is Dykreel the Slayer, god of torture and pain. They are the Forsworn, the topic of bedtime stories told by parents to frighten children into being good. But they are no mere story; they are real, and Airos fought their power daily. There was a constant struggle between the good and evil gods of Kraawn, and it was Airos’s job to wield his sword in defiance of the evil that would otherwise permeate the lands around him.
    Again, the question rolled around in Airos’s head, why a Banthra? Why would it come here? He must be missing something.
    Suddenly both his hands began to tingle. He pulled off his gauntlets and looked down at the familiar blue glow emanating from both the symbols. The men standing around him looked at his hands, with eyes that revealed their fear.
    Braal was among the men nearby and he moved closer to Airos, a large battle axe resting over one thick shoulder. “Is it time?” he asked sternly.
    “Yes,” Airos said, quickly putting his gauntlets back on and drawing his sword. “Braal, I want you to hold the south wall as we discussed. You must maintain your lines. If you don’t hold them off then they will converge on us from both sides. They will breach the wall; there is nothing we can do about that. When they do, and you can no longer hold them off, regroup with my force by the north wall. Our only hope is to stay together. If our forces get spread out then we will be picked off like wounded deer. Do not try to attack the Banthra. No one can defeat him but me. I will sense his presence and hunt him down wherever he goes. If I can kill the Banthra then we may have a chance.”
    “Yes sir,” Braal said, quickly moving off towards the south wall, his men unsheathing their weapons and following on his heels.
    This is a hardy group of men, thought Airos, tough mountain men who grew up fighting and surviving, but would it be enough? Airos erased the thought from his mind as his horse galloped towards him, nudging him with her nose. She, like Airos, could sense the approaching evil. His magical steed never ceased to amaze him. Suatha had appeared to Airos on the day that he passed his final trial. She was a magnificent steed that had saved his life many times, for she, like the cavalier, had been given the gift of