The Return of the Sword: An Anthology of Heroic Adventure, edited by Jason M. Waltz

I’ve made no secret of the fact that swords and battles, and especially gory battles, aren’t quite my “cup of tea.” Anyone who reads my reviews—I hope somebody does—may be wondering why I’m even reading this sort of story. Blame editor Eugie, if you will, for catching me in a weak moment, or for her tendency to prod me beyond my comfort zone. But there’s more to the story. I write a lot of children’s stories and “inspirational” literature (from poetry to essays to an occasional sermon), and quite often, my themes are solving problems or facing fears. It occurs to me, on occasion, that it’s hypocritical of me not to take my own advice. At such times, this shy, timid introverted writer goes through a flurry of fear-facing, mind-stretching exercises. This year, that included taking part in discussion panels at a science fiction convention, playing “visiting author” at the local primary school, and now attempting to review something a little more challenging. Tame stuff, compared to facing down an army determined to hack my aged body into vulture fodder. But big steps for me.

As I read the stories in The Return of the Sword: An Anthology of Heroic Adventure, it became evident that heroes have fears, too. Fear of failure, of not measuring up to the needs of the people they’re protecting, perhaps of dying alone and forgotten of illness instead of going out gloriously in one last battle. For me, that was a point of connection that gave me a greater understanding of these adventure stories. It’s not just about the fighting. It’s about overcoming.

Editor Jason M. Waltz has put together a fine collection; that I enjoyed some more than others is more a matter of personal taste than any reflection on the quality of the writing.

“Altar of the Moon” by Stacey Berg begins after the battles are over. Keren has saved the castle, saved her people, conquered the enemy, and been proclaimed a hero. But the enchanted sword that made all that possible isn’t ready to quit. It sings of blood and death and refuses to let her rest. Magic always demands a price, and a bloodthirsty sword must be appeased. Keren accepted the inevitability of her death from the moment she picked up the sword. Her fear is that the insatiable sword will cause her to destroy her people, now that she has saved them. In desperation, seeking peace even if it comes only with her death, Keren follows a path revealed to her in a dream. Deep in an ancient forest, she meets a mysterious woman named Veray.

I enjoyed the fairy-tale quality of this story but found it hard to feel much of anything for either of the two women caught up in a fatalistic drama with no chance of escape. It’s the sword itself that emerges as the driving force, to be wielded when it responds to a need and to seek its own choice of resting place between battles.

If it’s battles you want, “The Wyrd of War” by Bill Ward contains plenty of hacking and hewing. In the best epic fantasy tradition, we have a shadowy enemy, the Animus, apparently motivated by evil for the sake of evil. Its forces consist largely of semi-human monstrosities and altered animals created from those who once stood against it. Very Tolkienesque: bring on the orcs.

Vendic and his brothers of the Wyrdkin are also altered humans, but volunteers for the defenders. Under the compulsion of magical charms and armed with enchanted weapons, they will fight to the death, and maybe a bit beyond. The magic steals their memories, turns them into little more than animated weapons, but for these men, at least for Vendic, oblivion is welcomed after the evil they have seen.

I liked the way the author remained tightly in Vendic’s point of view, drawing the reader intimately into the story. The descriptions of the battle and the twisted creatures fighting it add a strong note of reality. I was there, whether I wanted to be or not. The repeated mention of Vendic’s last remaining memory, of his twin daughters, made it pretty evident that something really horrible was going to happen, even worse than the battle he was fighting. Cue the ominous music. The surprise, for me, was the kick in the stomach I felt at the end, even though I half-expected it. Very well done. It gave me the shudders.

In “The Last Scream of Carnage” by Phil Emery, we have an antihero, a scout for the invading Valac. Stopping for the night in a small village, the Carnage-Lord hears distant screams. He learns that similar screams are often heard from the mountain cave known as Darkmaw, and that always the morning after someone—man, woman, or child—is missing from a nearby farm or village. Here is a riddle to be solved, perhaps a worthy enemy to be fought. How can a warrior resist such a challenge?

The layout of the story becomes part of the effect, turning it into an epic poem or heroic chant. I enjoyed the imagery, the music of the words.

Alas, our courageous barbarian, who laughs at death and has no fear of physical injury, encounters a little more than even he can handle. I thought I had it figured out, but there’s a nice little twist at the end. I do love surprises.

“The Battle of Raven Kill” By Jeff Draper brings to mind the legendary Horatius, who held off an army to save Rome. No swords are in evidence in this version, but Oth’s two steel-tipped clubs, otherwise known as Mace and Stick, along with a stout oak shield, are effective against Pechti spears and knives. The real weapon, as always, is the hero himself and his determination to defend his people.

The actual fighting is nicely choreographed, and I’m sure those who delight in such details will appreciate the strong visual images. For myself, the internal battle was more interesting, as Oth struggles with injuries and exhaustion, seeming on the brink of defeat but always rousing himself for one more try. The story could easily be a metaphor for the indomitability of the human spirit.

Do old heroes, like old soldiers, simply “fade away?” Do they go quietly to the Old Heroes’ home to spend their final days sitting by the fire, eating soft foods, and reminiscing about past conquests? In “What Heroes Leave Behind” by Nicholas Ian Hawkins, we see what happens to one hero when he wakes up to find that everything aches, and the face in the mirror is that of an aged stranger.

Tolasun has no fear of death or battle injury. It’s the slow-creeping death of age and infirmity he yearns to avoid. Despite some nagging misgivings, he can’t resist the call to one last quest, especially when that request comes from a former lover, and the townspeople praise his past deeds.

The temporarily renewed vigor inspired by the excitement of facing another adventure soon fades. Alone, Tolasun battles his own infirmities as well as more tangible enemies. He wrestles with Death, fends off an attack by raiders on a monastery as much by trickery as swordplay, and finally confronts an old enemy: Lursus the fire hydra.

I found the whole concept of an older warrior refreshing. Invincible superheroes have their place, but I could more closely relate to Tolasun’s refusal to give up, his determination to at least finish the battle, whatever the consequences.

Suppose you are a king besieged by two armies and have just been presented with a marvelous weapon. Suppose that weapon is a young man, trained from childhood in the arts of war by the Mikari monks, well-versed in tactics and wise beyond his years. How would you best use such a weapon? In “Fatefist at Torkas Nahl” by David Pitchford, Prince Badru, impatient and more interested in personal glory than in the fate of his city, is not inclined to listen to advice. Can the Fatefist, Arnoux Trav, save him in spite of himself? But perhaps saving the city ranks higher in Trav’s priorities.

Here are wisdom and stupidity, barbarian boastings and civilized chivalry, courage and skill, and a vicious demon sword that ups the ante. The unflappable Arnoux Trav reminds me of one of my favorite fictional heroes, Mr. Spock. His cool assessment of the battle situation, along with his almost superhuman prowess in the field, make a fascinating counterpoint to the rasher behavior of the leaders. Although the young prince of Keinwhid is pretty impressive as well.

Besieged by wolves with supernatural powers, the mighty warrior Belgad fights his way through icy mountains seeking the ancient wizard who will tell him his future. His father, a dying chief, has sent him on the traditional journey for one who would become a leader. In “Deep in the Land of the Ice and Snow” by Ty Johnston, we see the clash between tradition—following the old ways no matter what—and the questioning that can lead to growth and change.

Belgad carries the traditional if gruesome price for the wizard’s advice: the knuckle of a warrior he slew in combat. But the old man has changed the rules. He sends Belgad off to slay a witch—the very witch who commands those troublesome wolves. In carrying out his assignment, Belgad comes to question the whole system. It’s always a pleasure to see someone stop merely reacting and start thinking for himself. Way to go, Belgad.

“Mountain Scarab” by Jeff Stewart features Sigurd Grimbow, the Valkyrion, pressed into service as a caravan raider as the price for keeping his life when the caravan he was with was attacked. When a captured woman appeals to him for help, he tells her he is only concerned with his own interests and unable to help her. But circumstances dictate otherwise, and Sigurd finds himself fighting for his life.

In a knife duel, the man who is fastest and most skillful has a distinct advantage, even over a brawny, larger opponent. Sigurd, however, is a thinking man and quick to take advantage of whatever comes to hand. Readers who want to experience a vicarious battle should find this one riveting.

“Lair of the Cherufe” by Angeline Hawkes seems to me to be almost a parody, reminiscent of The Princess Bride. The king’s daughter has been abducted and is in immediate peril. She’s going to be sacrificed to a monster. Three heroes set out to rescue her…but of course first they must go on a quest to get the magic weapon that will allow them to defeat the monster. This takes a while, and two of the heroes drop out of the game. Fortunately, the bad guy isn’t in as great a rush as first appeared, or perhaps the abduction simply took place well in advance of the monster’s annual dinner schedule. With a little luck and a few fortuitous coincidences, the remaining hero, Kabar, manages to complete his task.

The princess seems a bit of a ninny, although she pulls herself together and manages to be helpful when it counts. The villain, Caspian, is a comic book caricature who speaks with a sneer and doesn’t seem overly bright. I hope this wasn’t meant to be taken too seriously.

In “To Be a Man” by Robert Rhodes, the thief Vasili wakes up from a night of drinking to find he’s become the love slave of the notorious warrior woman, Titania. Although other men might envy his position, Vasili learns it has drawbacks. He has no more conscience than she does when it comes to thievery, nor does he balk at killing in self-defense. But in their last escapade, when it seemed she had abandoned him to die a terrible death for their crime, she rescues him at the last minute by substituting the body of a peasant for his. This is more than Vasili can accept, that an innocent man has been murdered on his behalf. But he can’t leave Titania; she’s already made it clear that she’ll kill him if he tries.

What’s a thief with a newly-awakened conscience to do? Whether the product of his own mind or a gift from a merciful God, Vasili hits upon a desperate scheme.

Everybody loves a repentant sinner, so of course I was hoping Vasili would make his escape and start a new life. Some well-crafted writing keeps up the tension as the adventure draws to a close. Will he be successful? Will she buy his story? Did he really…?

And now for a brief interlude…

“Storytelling” by E. E. Knight is an excellent article on the basics of telling a story. The boss lady says we’re supposed to focus on reviewing the fiction, but I have to say that if you’re an aspiring writer at any level, you’ll find this well worth reading.

Okay, back to the stories:

Prowess with weapons isn’t enough; an adventurer needs sharp wits and a vast store of esoteric knowledge to survive. In “The Red Worm’s Way” by James Enge, Morlock has just arrived in a small town, sober after weeks in the open air, and hoping to rectify the situation. The whole town seems to be holding a party, but there’s no alcohol in evidence. He’s about to continue on his way when a woman approaches him and asks that he guard the corpse of her newly deceased husband overnight.

This town has some odd rules, some of the reasons for which become more apparent later. A corpse may not be immediately buried or cremated, but must lie in the corpse house one night. During this time, someone must sit with the body to protect it from Strigae—corpse-eating witches. The widow cannot perform this duty herself, because she is required to take part in the festival, so she wants to hire Morlock for the job. Morlock is reluctant, having no need or desire for her gold, which appears to him to be tainted with evil magic. But one coin catches his eye, and since the woman will not sell it and he doesn’t think he can get away with stealing it, he agrees to take the job. What follows is a macabre but fascinating contest. The witches are clever and determined, but so is Morlock. A thoroughly entertaining story.

“To Destroy All Flesh” by Michael Ehart is a glimpse into the life of Ninshi, the legendary Servant of the Manthycore, who is doomed to live forever, slaying men to feed her master. Having learned of seven ancient, magical herbs that might set her free, she sets out with trade goods hoping to purchase the first. The caravan is attacked by bandits, her goods stolen, and her adopted daughter, Miri, injured. The priests who have knowledge of the herb refuse to part with it unless a price is paid. They suggest she retrieve her belongings, if possible, or else eliminate the bandits who are a bit of a nuisance.

Ninshi does not enjoy killing, but she does what she must and is very good at it. One would expect, given the nature of her servitude, that she would by now have grown bitter and cynical. Yet she shows far more compassion than the priests, who will do nothing to aid another if there’s no profit in it for them. Ehart likes to weave biblical references into his stories—besides the references to Noah and the Ark, I see a hint of the parable of the Good Samaritan in this one. Nicely done.

“Guardian of Rage” by Thomas M. MacKay takes us into the sewers below a great city, where our hero, Jack, has run off with a magic box and rescued a little girl in the process. There are nasty things down there, not the least of which are the followers of a demon cult, who want their box back. Plenty of spine-tingling tension here: eldritch monsters galore, zombies, and practitioners of human sacrifice. Can Jack overcome seemingly insurmountable odds to defeat the baddies and rescue the girl, or at least keep himself alive?

Anger has its uses. Not quick-flashing hot anger, but deadly cold rage. Remember the Incredible Hulk? The cultists shouldn’t have made Jack angry. I liked the way the author not only showed the action in great, sometimes yucky, detail, but also let me feel what Jack was experiencing.

“Claimed by Birthright” by Christopher Heath is an amusing tale of deceit and treachery. The mighty wizard, Wyvgrin, who rules over a portion of a crumbling castle peopled by the dregs of humanity, lusts for more power. Somehow he has obtained possession of the enchanted sword Avva’rin, the prized possession of King Brom of the barbarians. Wyvgrin thinks to rid himself of two enemies by pitting rival wizard Kahzvax against Brom in a duel. Kahzvax owes him a favor, which Wyvgrin assures him will be discharged by killing Brom. Brom, of course, will do what he must to get the sword back, which Wyvgrin promises to return after Kahzvax is dead.

Brom turns out to be physically impressive but mentally not the stupid savage Wyvgrin expected. It may be that the too-clever Wyvgrin has outsmarted himself. For some reason, I kept thinking of Dr. Seuss’s Yertle the Turtle, not to mention the biblical proverb that “Pride goeth before a fall.”

“The Hand that Holds the Crown” by Nathan Meyer has, I think, more than a sufficiency of bloody battle, not to mention one betrayal after another. None of the cast of characters is particularly appealing, being concerned only with their own thirst for power with never a thought for anyone or anything else. Conn’s pride as the true heir led him to murder his mother and her lover. Exiled while his father lived, he returns to claim his throne. His mother’s other son thinks differently, as does the cousin neither had seriously considered. And then there’s one more. A charming family, indeed. It’s as bloody as Hamlet, with bodies all over the stage. What can I say? A well-written tale about a totally selfish, dysfunctional family? They remind me of bickering two-year-olds with access to weapons or the seagulls in Finding Nemo. “Mine! Mine! Mine!”

“The Dawn Tree” by S. C. Bryce offers some fine food for thought. Are we responsible for the results of our actions, whatever our intentions and understanding? Does one self-appointed man have the right, much less the mandate, to make decisions that will affect countless other people? Do the ends justify the means, and who gets to choose either means or end?

The elf Dermanassian has taken on a quest on behalf of his foster brother, Desmarais. All he has to do is sneak into a desert stronghold, get the attention of Pae, the spirit of the Dawn Tree that grows there, and convince her to move or replant the tree. Desmarais conveniently omits most of the details of how this is to be accomplished and what the results might be. Dermanassian knows his brother is engaged in a war against Fate, whatever that might mean, but doesn’t stop to consider just what that involves. He also doesn’t expect to fall in love with the tree-spirit.

When Pae leaves the Dawn Tree, it becomes the Dusk Tree, signaling that an epoch of history is ending, as a new one will begin with the planting of the seed she carries away. So it has been from one age to another. But this time is different. The Elemental Spirits seem to have combined forces to destroy the old tree and to try to prevent the planting of the new one. After an arduous journey and a near-fatal battle, Dermanassian finally accomplishes his objective—or so he thinks.

Woe unto greedy wizards who employ strong but light-fingered barbarians and fail to pay them sufficiently. In “An Uneasy Truce in Ulam-Bator” by Allen B. Lloyd and William Clunie, dispossessed second son Ez-Arod plots to gain control of his older brother, Jamal, and their late father’s vast wealth. He hires the warrior Gerhard to bring him the head of a silth that he needs for his spell of compulsion. Gerhard survives the encounter with the magical beast only by a stroke of luck; the protective salve provided by Ez-Arod proves worthless. When Gerhard’s demand for additional compensation is refused, he makes up the difference himself and accidentally becomes the focus of the spell the magician intended for his brother. And then the fun begins, as Ez-Arod learns that he and Gerhard are linked so closely that each feels the other’s pain.

Magical beasts, treasure troves, a mechanical warrior that could have clanked its way off a Harryhausen set, a foolish young man who has the intelligence to perhaps be redeemable, and a strong but clever warrior hero with a philosophical bent. What’s not to like? Enjoy.

When a power-mad wizard calls up seven demons, they immediately kill him and scatter to work their evil elsewhere. The magician’s three sons take an oath to track the demons down and kill them, not to avenge their father, but to undo his evil and restore the family honor. “The Mask Oath” by Steve Goble follows the eldest son on his quest as he battles demons and comes to learn more about himself in the process.

What motivates a hero to absent himself from home and family, to suffer hardship and lay his life on the line over and over? Is it pride, duty, patriotism, fear of his gods? Or is it something more personal? There’s plenty of heroic fighting here, but I especially appreciated seeing Trevor come to terms with what’s really important to him.

“Valley of Bones” by Bruce Durham gives us a close-up view of war from the perspective of a foot soldier. Our hero, Mortlock, focuses on the important things: food, a brief chance to rest by the fire, a drink of water. Beyond that, he obeys the sergeant without giving it much thought, marches until he’s told to stop, and fights in disciplined formation, because that’s what he’s been trained to do. He’s a cog in a well-oiled machine, able to stand against cavalry or even magic and still keep his sense of humor. He’s fiercely loyal to his general and his king, and trusts them to plan the tactics that will ensure victory, or at least survival.

But Mortlock is more than just a robot following orders. He’s also a man, one who can take action without hesitation if he sees the need. This is the sort of hero I can relate to: not a glory-seeker or lover of battle, but someone who can rise above the circumstances, who sees what must be done and does it, not counting the cost.

“Red Hands” by Harold Lamb is presented as a classic of early pulp fiction, written by an author whose work is recently becoming available again, thanks largely to his admirer Howard Andrew Jones. Two Cossacks get together for what is no doubt the first of many adventures. Charny, after a night of drinking, has stolen the lieutenant’s horse and ridden out on the steppes. Vash is a patrolman, sent to bring him back for punishment. After a bit of a fight—perhaps the Cossack way of getting acquainted—they come to an understanding and set out together looking for food. A rollicking adventure follows, as they make the acquaintance of gypsies and save a riverboat from pirates, in spite of the pompous nobleman who commands it.

Charny and Vash are both skilled fighters, but they don’t take themselves or anything else too seriously. Life is to be lived to the fullest; freedom is more valuable than material wealth or civilized comforts. I found their joyous attitude contagious.

Publisher: Cyberwizard Productions/Flashing Swords Press (Mar. 2008)
Price: $16.50
Trade paperback: 344 pages
ISBN: 097957885X