by Amanda Fleet
“I know. I love you too.”
18
Breakfast was smaller than usual. Rationing had started, and the resultant grumbling around us made the Great Hall noisier than ever. Lord Sondan joined me and Faran as we found a table. No smiles from him this morning.
“Lady Aeron, how are you today?”
“I’ll be fine.” I hoped that wasn’t a lie.
“Are the rebels still at the gates?” Faran asked, leaning back for a serving girl to put a bowl of porridge in front of him. Faran glanced around, but there was no honey for him today. Or cream.
“Yes.” Lord Sondan poured me some water. “And there were some casualties overnight in the process. Some of the other villages have requested Guardians go and protect them. They fear the rioting will get out of hand.”
“Are they genuinely asking for assistance or is it a trap?” Faran stirred his breakfast.
“You’ll find out later. I’m sending you, Lady Aeron, Lord Cerewen and Lady Morgan to one of the villages that have asked for help. Lady Aeron, you’ll be captaining again.”
Faran must have caught the stony expression on my face. “Let me guess? Not your ideal group?”
The woman who wanted to usurp me and marry Faran, and a man who’d tried to kill me? No. Not my ideal group.
I scowled. “How do we reach the village? The gates are barred.”
“You can leave by the Torsk gate. There are no rebels there,” said Lord Sondan.
“When do we leave?”
“After breakfast.”
My shoulders sagged. Physically, I’d almost recovered after an array of potions from the healer, but emotionally? Were other Guardians capable of soaking up so much and still get on with their role as if nothing had happened? I wasn’t some automaton – wind me up and send me off. Did no one other than Faran recognise what I’d gone through to get the stones back here?
“How long is the mission?” I croaked.
“Just today. I want you to go, assess the situation and get the village leader to swear allegiance. If there’s any trouble, I need you to quell it.”
“And this is the most diplomatic group you can come up with?” My brow wrinkled.
Lord Sondan snorted. “I didn’t ask for diplomacy. I asked you to quell any uprising.”
“Okay. I’ll do my best.”
Though whether my best would be good enough was still to be seen.
“Between your diplomacy and his size, you should manage,” said Lord Sondan, a smile twitching his lips. “And if there are any demons around, capture them and bring them back to the city.”
“Can I get my charm-bracelet back then? If the demons shape-shift, it’s impossible to detect them otherwise.”
“I’ll arrange for you to get it before you leave.”
***
Lord Cerewen and Lady Morgan were waiting in the Great Hall when Faran and I arrived. Lord Cerewen leaned against the wall, his arms folded. Lady Morgan hugged the wall close to him, smiling up at him and pointedly ignoring me. Faran joined them while I went to talk to Lord Sondan, who stood a few paces away.
“Are you sure you’re fit enough to go?” he asked softly, handing me both my charm-bracelet and my captain’s armband.
“No. But I need to keep busy or I’ll think too much about what happened Outside, and I don’t want to train with anyone other than Faran at the moment, so I don’t have many options.” I swallowed, slipping the charm-bracelet on and turning the armband round in my hands. I glanced across to the other three, checking they were out of earshot. “Lord Sondan, I don’t think I can captain. Can you make Faran captain?”
Lord Sondan held my gaze. “Faran’s the most junior member of the team. By rank, it would be Lady Morgan after you and then Lord Cerewen. Faran is a younger son, remember, with no official post.”
I sighed, screwing my face up. “He’s also the best Guardian of the team, by a very large margin.”
“You do yourself a disservice, Lady Aeron. I saw the ferocity with which you fought those four men yesterday. And how fiercely you battled me and Lord Eredan. You’d have hacked our arms off rather than let us take the stones from you. Lord Eredan is very impressed.”
I fingered the armband. “It was not without cost to me,” I said, my voice small.
“I know… Lady Aeron, you’re still my first choice for captain. And if Lord Cerewen or Lady Morgan don’t follow your orders to the letter, report them.”
Faran joined us. “Ready?”
“Uh. Yeah.”
I slipped my arm through Faran’s and he bent his elbow to hold me tighter. He dipped his head to speak in my ear. “Lady Morgan’s more concerned with Lord Cerewen. But feel free to publicly stake your claim on me. I don’t mind.”
For once, it hadn’t been for Lady Morgan’s benefit, but mine. I needed the contact with him.
***
There was no transport to Oskdal – the village we’d been sent to – and it was a long walk, making no one’s temper better. Scrubby trees lined the stony track, offering some shelter from the brisk wind. I could feel rain in the air, and the dark clouds above promised downpours. Lady Morgan strode alongside Lord Cerewen, leaving me with Faran. Even before we’d passed through the gate, there’d been an argument about why we weren’t taking daggers or any vessels with us. Neither Lord Cerewen nor Lady Morgan thought that taking demons back to the city would be a smart move. I’d reminded them that only demons with form could be destroyed by the stones, but they both declared that the only stone that could potentially kill demons was currently strung around my neck. Now, two miles on, Lady Morgan was back to her favourite topic: who might be the next Elected Successor. I wished Faran spoke more English at times like this, so I could say what I felt and he’d understand. Mind you, he could probably read my thoughts written all across my face. I didn’t share Lady Morgan’s hope that Lord Cerewen would be the next Elected Successor; I wanted Faran to get his old job back.
Neither Faran nor I offered up much to the discussion. I knew Faran wanted to be Elected Successor again, but he’d face stiff competition, not least from Lord Cerewen. Maybe this mission would be a chance for Faran to shine, or for Lord Cerewen to mess up. And as captain, albeit a reluctant one, I would be writing the report.
“Do you think Lord Sondan has enough experience to keep the position after the elections?” said Lady Morgan.
Lord Cerewen shrugged. “Maybe. Depends on how he handles himself with the current crisis. He has supporters on the Council.”
“So do you. And perhaps this mission will provide you with opportunities to demonstrate your value,” Lady Morgan simpered, making doe-eyes at Lord Cerewen.
I rolled my eyes at Faran who stifled a laugh.
“Perhaps you should both focus on the mission,” I said. “I don’t know what welcome we’ll get in Oskdal. We might be facing a riot.”
“I’m sure you’d be able to talk them round. That is your preferred way, isn’t it?” said Lord Cerewen, his lip curled.
“Are you questioning your captain’s judgement?” murmured Faran.
“No. I’m merely looking forward to seeing her open a dialogue with a village armed with cudgels.”
We trudged on. Not even the bright twittering of birds from the surrounding trees cheered anyone. When we reached the outskirts of the village, it was eerily quiet. The road ran between lines of simple houses, but there was none of the bustle I’d seen before – no kids out playing, nothing. At least we weren’t met by a welcoming party bearing cudgels. And at least the place wasn’t littered with bodies. We walked through the deserted streets to the village leader’s house, and I rapped on the door, not expecting an answer.
There was the sound of bolts being drawn back, and the door opened to reveal a stocky man in his late forties. “Ah. Guardians. Yes. I am Vigmar. Forgive the delay. I locked myself in.”
“Lady Aeron. Lady Morgan. Lord Cerewen. Faran.” I pointed in turn. “Where is everyone? Why had you locked yoursel
f in?”
“Everyone’s in the barn.” His thick eyebrows waggled as he spoke. “I’d locked myself in to stay safe until you got here.”
I frowned. Safe from demons, presumably. But he preferred his house while everyone else was told to go to the barn. Some leader. “Okay.” I glanced up and down the road running through the village, unnerved by the quiet. “How many deaths have you had? And any cases of illness?”
Vigmar clasped gnarled hands together. “Fifteen deaths, yesterday. All sudden. No illnesses.”
Shit. “Any deaths before yesterday?”
“No.”
Fifteen in one day. If that was the work of a single demon, it would be strong now. “Okay. Where’s the barn?”
“I’ll show you.”
He joined us in the street and trotted towards the other end of the village.
“Why are we going to the barn? If the people are safe in there, the demons aren’t there,” said Lord Cerewen.
“How many demons have you seen, Lord Cerewen?” I asked. “And what did they look like?”
“None, Lady Aeron,” he ground out, eyes narrowed.
“Then shut up, please.”
Faran smirked.
For a barn that was allegedly safe, a lot of noise billowed forth from it. We drew our swords, and I ushered Vigmar to one side. “There might not be only villagers in the barn. The stone in this bracelet indicates if someone who looks like a friend is, in fact, a demon. If I ask for a person to be taken away it’s for a reason, so please follow my instructions.”
Vigmar nodded, wide-eyed. I turned to Lady Morgan and Lord Cerewen. “That goes for you too.”
I pushed the door to the barn open, releasing screams of terror into the street. A lump formed at the back of my throat. Please let me be able to deal with whatever was in here.
I didn’t need a special stone in my charm-bracelet to know which of the occupants of the barn was a demon. It hadn’t bothered shape-shifting. There were about a hundred people in the barn, huddled against the walls, with several bodies on the floor. I watched, wide-eyed as a red-eyed, leather-skinned demon reached into a man’s chest to rip out a ball of light, and the man fell to the ground, dead.
I swallowed hard, trying to blank images of Ben from my brain. I needed focus. And I needed my best warrior to deal with the demon, however much I hated sending him into danger. I also had to get the survivors out of here. I sucked in a deep breath. “Faran, Lady Morgan. Can you try to capture that creature? Lord Cerewen, stand here, next to me. Let the people out one by one. I’ll check them with the charm. Anyone who’s not what they seem, I need you to immobilise them. Use force if necessary, but not lethal. Understood?”
Neither Lady Morgan nor Lord Cerewen moved quickly. Faran scowled at Lady Morgan, who smiled back sweetly, strolling the length of the barn as if she had all the time in the world. Lord Cerewen glared at me, eventually taking up his post next to me. The trapped villagers screamed, rushing towards the open barn door, and I could have killed Lord Cerewen for his indifference.
“Don’t push!” I yelled at the people as they surged towards me. Lord Cerewen brandished his sword, and they skidded to a halt.
With half an eye on Faran and Lady Morgan as they tried to contain the demon, I checked the people as they fled. One of the last to pass made the charm light up like a blue gas flame.
“Take her to one side. Secure her.”
Lord Cerewen pinned the woman down and cuffed her to a piece of machinery in the barn. No one tried to stop him, and I wondered if the woman had been chosen by the demon because she was a loner. I didn’t have the luxury to fret – the rest of the villagers wanted out of the barn. None of them made the charm glow, and I let them flee into the street outside. There was no guarantee they would be safe there, but given several bodies lay on the floor in front of me, they certainly hadn’t been safe in here.
Faran and Lady Morgan were struggling to contain the demon. Faran had his arm around the demon’s neck, pinning it against his chest, but the demon was thrashing too much for Lady Morgan to get it cuffed. Just as I was about to send Lord Cerewen over to help them, Vigmar stepped back into the barn.
He walked over to Lord Cerewen and something in the way he walked rang alarm bells in my head. Too silky. Too seductive. Also, my bracelet was glowing bright blue.
“Lord Cerewen!” I bellowed. “Vigmar’s a demon!”
Lord Cerewen’s attitude to me made him react a fraction of a second too late. I watched helplessly as Vigmar reached into Lord Cerewen’s chest and plucked out a ball of light. Lord Cerewen instantly crumpled to the floor, gasping his last. Vigmar turned and smiled at me, morphing into Aegyir in his cadaverous, demon form: leather-skinned and red-eyed. Adrenaline and hatred flooded my body, making me tremble. I wanted to punch the smile off his face and hack him into bits. I was going to kill this son of a bitch, and enjoy doing it.
“Oh, Lady Aeron. How lovely to see you again,” said Aegyir.
He turned to leave the barn, and I launched myself after him, images of Ben being slaughtered flashing before me.
“Aeron, no! He’s strong enough to take a Guardian!”
Faran’s words fell on deaf ears. I had scores to settle.
***
Just outside the barn lay Vigmar’s body. My charm hadn’t lit up when we arrived, so where had Aegyir been? Watching from a safe distance? I shuddered at the thought, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. I pounded after Aegyir, passing the people we’d just released.
“Get back in a barn,” I yelled. Ahead of me, Aegyir had about a hundred-metre lead, sprinting down the track out of the village. Behind me, I heard someone running and I turned, juddering to a halt. “Faran, if you’ve not secured that demon, I will fucking kill you!”
“Aeron, Aegyir is strong enough to take your energy.” Fear filled his eyes.
I glared. “Is that other demon secured?”
“Almost.”
“Give me your arm!” I marched over to him, and he held his arm out. I dragged my sword blade across his forearm. His leathers held. Good job. I’d have cut through some major blood vessels and tendons, otherwise.
“You think I’m a traitor?” Faran spat the words at me.
“Get your arse back to that barn and help Morgan secure it. That’s an order!”
Faran glowered, not moving. I turned back to the track Aegyir had been on. There was no sign of him and my charm-bracelet was opalescent again. I’d lost Aegyir.
Faran reached out to catch my shoulder. “Aeron. He’s too strong. Come back to the barn.”
I whirled around, shaking him off, and slammed my fists against his chest. “I could have caught him. I’m still wearing the talisman, you idiot! He can’t take my energy!”
I hit him again, and Faran caught me by the wrists, holding my hands against his chest. I tried to pull free, but he was far stronger than me.
“Let go of me. Get back to the barn and secure the demon,” I said, my voice low, my body shaking with anger. “If you make us lose a second one, I’m not joking. I will fucking kill you.”
Faran released my wrists and stalked back to the barn. I dipped my head, breathing hard. I wasn’t any calmer when I joined him in the barn. The demon who’d shape-shifted to look like a woman had morphed back to look like a demon. It spat and snarled, cuffed to a large lump of metal. Faran and Lady Morgan had just finished securing the other demon. It had raked Lady Morgan’s face with its claws, and a streak of blood ran down her cheek. She stared at Lord Cerewen’s body lying next to the first demon, looking devastated. I tried not to look at him.
I passed Lady Morgan a pot of salve and checked that both demons were secure, turning my head to avoid the spit. They ranted at me, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying. Was Aegyir the only one who spoke the language of The Realm and English?
“The villagers have taken shelter in another barn,” I said. “Faran, stay here and watch the demons. Lady Morgan, come with me to chec
k the villagers are safe and not in need of assistance.”
I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t lose my temper with Faran, and anyway, Lady Morgan needed to get out of the barn. I turned my back on Faran as he opened his mouth. Lady Morgan followed me to the barn.
There, none of the villagers made my charm glow, but even if they weren’t demons, that didn’t mean they were all free from the influence of Aegyir. A few carried injuries and the village healer was dealing with them, though since salve didn’t work on non-Guardians, all she could do was clean and bandage wounds and strap anything broken. Those free from injury huddled together on bales, looking shell-shocked. I sent Lady Morgan over to help the healer.
“Who is deputy leader?” I asked, scanning the villagers, hoping whoever it was had survived.
Someone pointed out a middle-aged man sitting on a bale of straw, and I went over to him. He stared at me warily, tugging at his dun-coloured jacket.
“I’m sorry. Vigmar has been killed,” I said. “You are now the village leader. What’s your name?”
He didn’t seem cheered by his unexpected promotion. “Olf. Are the Guardians staying?”
“No. We have to take the demons back to the city.”
His eyes widened. “How do we protect ourselves from them?”
How indeed?
“Be alert. Don’t trust anyone. I’ll ask the First Lord about sending more Guardians. But you must know that with other areas of the provinces rebelling against the city, support is limited. Civil unrest must be dealt with and that means Guardians are not so available to help. The First Lord asks that you swear fealty.”
“We do! No one is rebelling here! We’ve sent everything we should have, even though it meant the village went without.”
“Thank you. I know things have been difficult. Your loyalty will be highly commended to the First Lord.”
My words seemed to soothe him, but they were just words. They wouldn’t help him get rid of the demons killing his people.
