by Jon Jacks
‘You did well: we weren’t expecting you to get out alive.’
‘With such obviously profound abilities, you are too dangerous for us to let you roam free any longer.’
‘Your anger against the queen is well known.’
‘And that, of course, is why the queen needed Krag himself removing.’
‘He saw himself as a potentially better emperor.’
‘Gradually raising an army that would plunge us into civil war.’
‘The only beneficiaries ultimately being a certain other empire; who don’t pay us anywhere near as well!’
They were all uncomfortably jolted as the carriage came to an unexpectedly abrupt halt. Even through the clatter of the rain driving hard against the carriage’s wood and iron carcass, the frightened cries of attendants could be heard if not clearly identified.
One of the assassins calmly made his way towards the door, opened it, and peered out into the thick veil of rapidly falling rain.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said nonchalantly, turning to glance back into the carriage once more, ‘it seems we’re surrounded; by a rather huge force of Lord Krag’s men.’
*
Chapter 26
1,000 Years Later
Sniffing the air, as if she could smell him, the woman continued to confidently head towards Cranden.
At last, Cranden decided he would have to stand up from amongst the bushes and reveal himself, before the woman literally stumbled on both him and Desri.
Instead of being frightened, which was the usual reaction of anyone confronted by a buisoar, the woman’s face lit up with joy. She picked up her pace as she rushed towards him, grunting wildly once more as if more animal than woman.
Suddenly she stopped, wariness immediately replacing her happiness. Cocking her head, beast like yet again, she eyed Cranden curiously.
She was acting as if she had sensed that something wasn’t right, Desri thought. Sensed, however, in the way an animal instinctively recognises that a situation isn’t as it seems, not in the way a human is just merely suspicious.
Desri had to Know why this woman was behaving so strangely.
The woman started in terror as she felt Desri’s probing thought waves. She glanced everywhere about herself, startled, expecting a trap. With a final, accusatory glare at Cranden – believing him responsible for almost leading him into this trap – the woman abruptly turned and fled hurriedly through the bushes.
‘She really thought she was a buisoar,’ Desri whispered in awe as she and Cranden watched the woman swiftly vanish into the forest. ‘She was looking for other buisoars: ones that, she strangely believed, would befriend her and take her to safety.’
‘I don’t know of any such buisoar,’ Cranden wryly replied.
‘Well, she’s so sure she’s really a beast that she’s avoiding any humans. That’s why she fled when I tried to Know her – because although she didn’t really have any idea what was happening to her, she sensed that a human was close.’
‘Madness: the poor woman must be mad. It seems unfair to take advantage of that madness, but we can surely hope that she won’t be giving away our presence here.’
‘Her family might be searching for her, though: we’ll have to leave.’
Cranden nodded sadly in agreement.
‘We’ll rest again once we’re far from her–’
With a swiftly raised hand placed against the back of Desri’s head, he gently indicated that they needed to lie low again. They both quietly ducked down into the overgrown hollow once more, Cranden pointing off to where he had sensed the new, oncoming threat.
The approaching buisoar made far less noise than the woman had. It made far less noise than a buisoar would normally make, moving almost stealthily, with an obviously higher level of intelligence guiding its actions.
Desri glanced Cranden’s way, wishing for perhaps the first time that he had developed the powers of Knowing, as she had. They would have been able to talk and question each other in silence, had each allowed a slight unveiling of their minds.
Fortunately, it was easy for Cranden to guess the question that must be on her mind: Is this one of the more human beasts you’ve mentioned before?
Cranden answered with a slight shaking of his head, a frown that he hoped would indicate he was every bit as puzzled by this intelligent beast as he had been by the mad woman.
They had to wait in total silence as the beast made his way past them. As the woman had done only moments previously, the beast raised his snout to sniff at the air.
Desri froze, worried that the beast would detect Cranden’s presence, as even the poor mad woman had with her far more inadequate senses. The beast’s head whirled, a sign that he had indeed sensed something; but it turned in the direction of where the woman had fled, not towards Cranden.
The beast snorted out a loud call. It growled, moaned, as if crying out to someone far away.
And, far away, the woman returned the call, with her own strange chorus of fake snorts and growls.
*
Chapter 27
1,000 Years Earlier
The five assassins stepped from the carriage out into the still pouring rain. Two of them had roughly picked Imp up by the arms, dragging her along with them.
Her feet clomped uselessly down the carriage steps. They slipped through the mud of the road.
Imp was already wet, but the rain drenched them all in a matter of moments. Through the rain’s driving grey sheets, Imp could only just make out the wraith-like forms of the mounted, heavily armoured men lined up alongside the halted procession.
Rather than heading towards these mounted men, the assassins carelessly dragged Imp past the other halted carts and carriages.
‘He must be here somewhere, damn him!’ one of the assassins grumbled.
‘To save time when we meet with the queen once again,’ another said, fleetingly peering Imp’s way to let her know that he was talking to her, ‘we’ll take this opportunity to dispense with the least important reasons why we’re all gathered here tonight!’
‘It was the queen who ordered the killing of your parents.’
‘Yet you were to be spared.’
‘To the extent that the life of any of our assassins involved were deemed less worthy than yours.’
‘We then had to facilitate your supposed discovery of and introduction to the Assembly.’
‘Your acceptance as an assassin was assured; no matter your abilities.’
‘Though your abilities have been a surprise to us all.’
Imp no longer had the energy to react in any way to these blandly delivered comments. She simply allowed herself to be limply dragged along through the mud and rain.
‘Unfortunately, as we have already explained, these abilities don’t sit well with your seeking for vengeance against the queen.’
Towards the head of the stationery procession, the dark blanket of incessant rain was split apart by the orange glow of huge, blazing torches. As they all drew closer to this, the glow increased, enhanced by smaller but no less bright braziers. A vast, golden canopy had been erected between two carriages.
Beneath this canopy, the floor had been carpeted, the space decked out with expensive chairs and a low table, as if it were all some ornate tent. The queen was seated in the highest and most elaborate seat, her pure white gown sparkling as if formed from ice crystals. Her red hair, spilling over both dress and chair, blazed in the light, like a manifestation of one of the fiery torches.
The chair placed next to hers was smaller, but hardly less elaborate, its occupant also regal in his casually confident pose.
And that was a surprise to Imp.
Because it was Haren.
*
Chapter 27
1,000 Years Later
On hearing the woman’s strange, strangled cry, the beast elatedly made off in her direction.
‘A strange love affair, don’t you think?’ Cranden observed with a deliberately ironi
c tone to his voice.
‘You don’t think this buisoar was something a bit like you?’ Desri asked, having noted the beast’s relatively intelligent behaviour. ‘Or, at least, one who can partly recall his previous life as a man?’
‘He – it – just moved differently. I can’t quite put my – hah, finger – on what it was; but it just didn’t seem like the movements I’ve seen before in these half-man, half-buisoars. There’s an anger, a bitter frustration, in every move of buisoars like me–’
‘I’ve never noticed that in you.’
‘That, Desri, is because you never saw me when I believed I would never be able to approach you once again. Now – even if you can’t fully accept who I now am – you can at least understand what I’ve become.’
Desri offered him her hand.
‘I do accept what you’ve become–’
Cranden let her hand go, turned away miserably.
‘Not in the way it once was between us, Desri – and don’t worry, I accept that. I understand.’
As he spoke, he turned back to face her, to let her know he didn’t expect anything more of her than what she had already freely given him.
Desri hung her head in shame.
‘I’m sorry Cranden: I just wish I could–’
‘I know, I know.’
Reaching out, he wrapped his arms around her, brought her closer to him.
‘Let’s move on – before, as you said earlier – they come searching for that poor woman.’
*
Chapter 28
1,000 Years Earlier
‘Ah, here they are, Haren.’
The queen smiled as the five assassins unhurriedly walked towards the canopy, the drenched and bedraggled Imp slung limply between them.
‘You know them all, of course: no painfully boring introductions needed, thankfully. But I do believe they do have something of yours.’
As the assassins drew closer to the seated Haren, the two supporting the sagging Imp threw her down onto the ground before him.
‘Imp?’
Urgently rising from his seat, Haren immediately dropped down onto his knees beside Imp. Tenderly turning her around, cradling her head in his arms, he glowered accusingly at the surrounding assassins.
‘What have you done to her?’
‘A few simple disabling jabs to the body.’
‘We couldn’t allow her to be brought in front of the queen any other way.’
‘She did kill your father, Haren!’
This last statement was added smugly, the smugness of someone expecting his comment to elicit surprise.
‘Ah, so you were aware of that, then?’
Haren remained calm. His focus seemed to be more on caring for the still weakened, still painfully bound Imp. Drawing a dagger from his belt, he cut the cords binding her wrists.
Imp was still too weakened to speak. She couldn’t see any need for speaking yet anyway.
Better, she thought, to conserve her energy.
To listen and learn about what is being said here.
Haren had never even hinted, let alone told her, that Lord Krag was his father.
‘Of course! It’s our business to be aware of such things.’
A different assassin provided the unnecessary answer to Haren’s rhetorical question. Even so, the smugness of the first speaker was still there.
The queen had been watching everything passing between them all with a wryly-amused smile. Now she was the one who spoke.
‘Ah, then perhaps you could explain to me, master assassin, why you presumed that I was the one requiring my dear Lord Krag’s elimination?’
The sharp move of heads that passed between the assassins would have been virtually unnoticeable to any normal observer. Those who knew them, however, and were aware of their habits, would recognise this slight movement as the equivalent of an exchange of shocked glances.
‘Your majesty, I…we…we have been purposely misled by–’
‘By me, master assassin.’
‘You?’
The master assassin glared down at Haren in surprise.
‘Oh come now, master assassin.’ The queen sounded as if she were bored with all this talk. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never had a son approach you with a need to kill his father?’
‘But…he didn’t!’ This was another of the assassins, yet he sounded no less mystified than the master assassin. ‘We were lead to believe the assassination was approved under your orders, your maj–’
The queen stilled his protestations with a raised hand.
‘If Lord Haren was prepared to pay for it, why should I waste my time attempting to dissuade you from your arrogantly mistaken belief?’
‘Then…then you approve of Lord…of Krag’s removal?’
‘His son has pledged his – and his troops’ – loyalty to me.’
‘My father disowned me long ago,’ Haren added, cradling Imp’s hand as he sought for a stronger response in her grip, ‘because I believed any war with our queen would help only our enemies.’
Imp clenched Haren’s hand as she struggled to speak, still weak from the assassins’ expert disabling attack on her.
‘Haren – I didn’t know he was your father! I’m sorry…’
‘It was my own commission. I–’
Imp gripped his hand as tightly as she could. For the first time since her parents had been killed, she found she couldn’t hold back tears from forming in the corners of her eyes.
‘But…but I didn’t know she was your sister.’
‘My sister? Which one? What do you mean, you “didn’t know”, Imp?’
Haren’s tight, caring hold on her relaxed. He pulled away from her slightly.
From almost anyone else’s mouth, it was a fairly innocuous phrase; I didn’t know she was your sister. But when coming from the mouth of an accomplished assassin, however, such an apparently innocent comment would always potentially hide a far more threatening possibility.
‘You killed her?’ Haren asked in hopeful disbelief, in a fearful realisation of what was being implied.
‘I didn’t know!’ Imp insisted tearfully. ‘I didn’t mean t–’
‘You didn’t need to kill her!’
He let Imp fall to the ground once more as he abruptly rose to his feet, glaring down at her as if fighting the urge to kill her.
‘Oh dear,’ the queen broke in, speaking without any emotion but for a slight touch of amusement, ‘this is an unfortunate, unexpected turn of events, isn’t it?’
Around them, the assassins watched with expressionless faces that, somehow, nevertheless seemed to be full of gloating.
‘I can only think that an execution is in order,’ the queen continued emotionlessly. ‘The master has already informed me that she’s a potentially dangerous thorn in my side: what do you think, my Lord Haren?’
*
Chapter 28
1,000 Years later
Although Cranden had tried to give her some idea of the size of the fortified manor they had been heading for, Desri was still surprised by how large it actually was when it at last came into sight.
Another thing she hadn’t been expecting from Cranden’s enthusiastically vivid descriptions was the poor state of the whole estate.
The surrounding fields they were crossing were churned up into a haphazard mush of dried mud and smashed bushes. As for the buildings themselves, the defensive walls had at some time been breached by an attacking force. The encircling moat had also been roughly filled in at various places, no doubt by the same besiegers.
The house was mainly a charred wreck, obviously having suffered a grave fire. Even so, the outbuildings were in an even worse state, with most of them entirely demolished.
Cranden frowned worriedly, giving Desri the impression that he hadn’t been expecting to find the manor in this poor sate either. He quickened his pace, despite the ridiculous distance they had already covered that day.
Within the walls, the sense o
f desertion was even stronger. The only movement and sound was that caused by the wind, flapping the remaining shreds of canvas coverings, slapping together pieces of dangling, smashed wooden flooring. There was the odd scuffle of a scavenging creature, but even these were rare.
‘All gone: all of it!’
Cranden was distraught: the picture of the manor he had formed for Desri was one of near perfection for a beast such as himself.
Like him, the master of this manor, a former officer of the army, had returned from the war transformed into a beast. Remaining in hiding in the nearby woods, he had watched his family going through the routines of life he had once been an essential part of, an impossibly painful mingling of bliss and miserable torture. With every passing day, he had come closer, lingered longer, ultimately deciding it was worth the risk even if he were caught and killed.
Eventually, his eldest daughter had discovered him: and, being highly experienced in use of the Knowing, she had instantly understood who he was. His wife, similarly recognising him as her husband through her accomplished Knowing abilities, had welcomed him back into their home, if not her bed. The servants, although at first both disbelieving and horrified, had come to accept him as their master as they gradually recognised his characteristics, his mannerisms of speech and general kindness.
Now all this, this most perfect of lives that a beast could ever hope to expect, had vanished, wiped out by a force of attackers
Cranden and Desri moved carefully through the debris of the manor, searching for any clues of what might have happened to the family; anything pointing to their being able to flee and seek safety before the besiegers completed their task of wrecking the manor and its environs.
As they rose higher through the only remaining part of the house, Desri heard a creaking of floorboards coming from above them. It was like the slow shifting of a great weight, yet one that hardly moved, turning again and again, but only ever in the same small space.
There was a blocking of the Knowing, poorly done, for the existence of the veiling was obvious.
Everything pointed to someone’s presence in the master bedroom.
Cranden insisted on being the first to enter. He threw open the impressive double doors, striding confidently through them, expecting his size to intimidate anyone waiting there.
