The next morning I awoke to Hassan tapping my shoulder. "Jaspen?"
I woke up groggily, raising myself from the dirt and looking around, confused. I was lying in the sand.
"What happened?" I asked.
"I was going to ask you the same thing."
I got up shakily feeling weary. The last thing I remembered was Ander teaching me how to control my gift. I stumbled a couple steps back to my horse. Why did I barely remember last night?
"Some of the ground around you was scorched. Are you sure you are alright?"
I bit my lip. Hassan didn't know about my gift of fire yet. Should I tell him?
"Jaspen, you weren't attacked were you?"
The fear in his calm voice made me make the decision.
"No… Ander gave me one of his gifts- he had no chaos to attend to last night so he taught me a few things."
Hassan looked disturbed by this, but masked his expression quickly, making me wonder if my tiredness had made me just imagine it.
"What 'gift'?"
"Fire," I said. "I can wield fire when I feel rage."
****
We rode most of the day without talking. Hassan was in a brooding mood and I wasn't much for talk either with being still so worn out from my lessons from Ander. The way he showed me how to control it last night was hard, but he was persistent as if he knew already it would save my life better if I wielded it with rage rather than fear. I was falling in and out of sleep on Svia's back.
"Jaspen," said Hassan nervously stopping his horse. "Jaspen!"
I woke up pushing sleep's welcoming blanket off me. "Aye?"
That's when I saw in the distance seven to eight black blobs riding towards us, kicking up sand so much sand that there was a trail behind them.
"What's the plan, General?" I asked sarcastically.
He got off his horse quickly throwing on his armor. "Protect ourselves. I have a feeling those are the Furkhorn Raiders."
I did as he said quickly placing my armor on and grabbing my ace What chance did we stand against them especially without Iblis? The Furkhorn raiders were a group of bandits well known in our barren part of the world and for good reasons. They took prisoners, stole what they could and loved the idea of bloodshed. They were dangerous and reckless and the most feared.
As they neared, I had no doubt in my mind that's who they were. They circled us, seeing what we had most likely, before they stopped and formed a small, tight-knit circle around us.
"Hail, friends," said one.
His voice sounded haunting familiar even with and added husk from his age.
"My name is Raj. I am the leader of the Furkhorn Raiders. I suggest you do as I say or start praying to the gods for a quick death."
I looked at Hassan. These men would not know I was an exiled prince. Perhaps my title would be enough to scare them off.
"Do you know who you address, thief?" I asked.
He pulled back is scarf. "Nay, but it does not matter."
Hassan nodded. He understood.
"I am Jaspen ap Ginfried- Scortha of the Shemesh tribe, only heir to the throne of Ginfried- and wield the demon of Iblis. I have the blessing of Ander. I suggest you scurry off or die," I said with all the strength and confidence I possessed.
Raj's eyes widened and he smirked, his black eyes twinkling in the mid-day sun. I saw his men stir slightly with fear.
Run, I thought. Run and do not challenge me.
"Oh, I know of your story. You are exiled and no longer a prince. Word travels fast, my boy, but did you really think your title would scare me?"
Worry crossed my face, but I pushed it down. I had met tons of men in battle worse than this man and I could take him myself. He was a scrawny man. What worried me was his band of friends interfering. They would surely not allow one-on-one combat.
I smirked, forcing my worry down. "I just didn't want to kill a legend."
The man barked out a laugh.
"Bold words. I say you'll make a fine slave in the north once we've broken your spirit down a little. As for the man beside you, I'm not sure. Why don't you lay down your weapons and come willingly? I don't want to wound either of you."
I let myself tap into Hassan's thoughts to see what he was thinking. I will not back down. No one hurts Sari's son.
Before I could react, Hassan hefted his sword- the one my father made all those years ago- and charged Raj. I hefted my axe and the battle commenced.