by RG Long
It was time to use a sword.
Thrusting as the lizard came closer, Blume made sure her feet stayed within the same position. This would make sure she didn’t swing back and take an arm off her comrades. The lizard hissed and lunged, but she was ready. Taking the claw it reached toward her arm, she shoved the blade deep into its abdomen.
Black blood spilled out over her blade, but she shoved both the heaving body of the lizard and the liquid away from her. Standing back up in the defensive position, she readied herself for another onslaught.
Two of the beasts came at her now. Blume readied her sword for the double attack, just like Silverwolf had taught her. Take out the first with a slash. Hope to stab the second. She was already panting with adrenaline and exhaustion. Evening was giving way to night. This was going to be a long darkness if they couldn’t get away from the lizards. They covered the area from all sides.
And they were getting closer.
Suddenly, the lizard to her left lunged, not at her, but at the beast beside him. He drove his metal tipped spear deep into the Veiled One’s chest and cried out a horrible, screeching noise.
“Sssnart! Bossss! Bossss!”
The lizards broke into chaos. They had been gleefully dropping down on Blume and her companions. Now they fought and tore at one another.
“Time to move!” Holve shouted near the entrance to the tunnel stair. He didn’t need to tell them twice.
In the crazed panic that ensued, Blume caught hold of Ealrin’s hand and ran with him through the jungle trees. Above her, she could see the three moons of Gilia. Their light was being overshadowed, though, as the Dark Comet began a slow descent towards them. It became brighter and brighter in the night sky as they ran. It seemed like the lizards were everywhere, dropping from every tree and killing everything they found, be it another other lizard, a jungle animal, or even themselves.
They were worked up into a frenzy and Blume was at a loss for why.
The jungle was a landscape of roots and rocks and tree limbs. She ducked and dodged and ran alongside Ealrin as best as she could without tripping or losing her footing. It was hard. She was running on pure adrenaline and the pull of Ealrin’s hand. Foliage whipped her in the face and vines tore at her legs as they ran. Her pants would get torn to shreds at this rate.
Finally, after running for what seemed like hours, but could only have been a few long moments strung together, they came to a clearing and a small pool.
Blume collapsed beside the pool with her face down in the running water. She took several long drinks before she came up for air. The water ran down her face and neck, cooling her body and reviving a little of her energy.
She felt strong enough to make the ring on her finger and the two others glow a little more brightly. Above them they saw the Comet, casting its dark purple light down on them. She shuddered at it, feeling drawn to its glow, but tore her eyes away all the same.
“Everyone alright?” Ealrin asked as he took his hands off his knees and stood up. They all looked around for a moment, taking stock of everything.
Gorplin was panting, but no worse for the wear. Silverwolf was tying a rag around Serinde’s arm where a small but steady stream of blood was flowing. Jurrin was talking to a small girl Blume didn’t recognize. When did they pick her up?
Barton was glaring around at them all. She was surprised he was still with them. Watching him for a moment, she saw his eyes go wide and he spun around twice. He then put a hand to the ground and pounded it hard.
“Argh!” he said loudly, disturbing some animals nearby and causing Silverwolf to complain.
“Shush!” she said, tying off the cloth on Serinde and making the elf wince in the process. “I thought you were a scout! Do you want to draw the scaly crew right back to us?”
Barton looked up with a gleam of hatred on his face.
“Where’s Holve?” he spat.
43: Delayed Justice
Jerius struggled as he pulled Holve closer to him. His whip had caught the man as he had fled with his companions in the chaos. Jerius used a slimy hand to grasp the older man’s sword arm and restrain the weapon.
“I’ve endured too much for you to slip away now, heretic and traitor!” he hissed.
He dared not draw Holve’s friends back to him and he certainly didn’t want the lizards coming after him either. After all, he only had Luca left. His other female guard had died defending the hole from the slimy bugs that had nearly severed his leg.
Of course, what they had done to her was worse by far.
No matter. All would be resolved. Right here.
“I would kill you myself,” Jerius said, feeling Holve’s body go limp as he deprived the man of air. “But I want the favor of the king. And you’re the man to get it for me.”
Holve struggled one last time, before he went down onto his knees. Jerius followed him, making sure to squeeze the man’s neck in just the right place. He didn’t study the human body for no good reason. He wanted this to be perfect.
The older man finally went limp and fell to the floor among the vines and mushrooms there.
Gasping, Jerius loosened his grip on him and looked up at Luca, who stood above them both, sword in hand, ready to kill Holve at Jerius’ command.
“Bind him,” Jerius said, crawling back. “Ensure his hands and feet are tightly wrapped.”
He sniffed as Luca did the job. Looking over his shoulder constantly to make sure the Veiled Ones still fought amongst themselves, he finally allowed himself a smile.
Perhaps his voyage to the island temple would not prove so useless after all.
“You’re going to help my cause greatly,” Jerius said, standing over Holve as Luca finished tying the knots. “With two princes dead and Isolians invading Ladis, our king will need a hero to champion. I will ensure that hero is the faith of Ladis and the prophets who preach it.”
He stood up and dusted off his robes. Looking north, he set out in the direction of Ladis’ capital.
“Gag him,” he told Luca. “I don’t wish to hear him complain as you drag him to Prommus.”
The jungle around them became darker by a degree. Jerius looked up instinctively to see if there were clouds covering the sky. He couldn’t make out the heavens due to the canopy of the jungle, but it didn’t seem as if there were any clouds above them.
“Trust in the darkness around you and I will guide your steps,” a voice said.
Jerius recognized it as the same voice that had guided them to where Holve and the others would appear after they had escaped from Arranus.
“Why should I trust a voice with no body I can see?”
“I am wind. I am cold. I am darkness. I am fear. I can see what you do not and perceive what you cannot. Trust in my darkness and no enemy will find you before you reach your destination.”
“Demons lurk in every corner,” Jerius said to himself, reminding him of the words he had spoken to Luca that last time.
The voice let out a soft, evil chuckle.
“But do you trust me?” it said again.
Jerius knew the companions of Holve were close by. He also knew they were capable of finding him between here and the next Ladis city where he could get a horse and cart to aid him in bringing Holve to the king.
His options were limited.
He looked at Luca, who was looking back at him, hands around Holve’s mouth and tying a knot tightly. His reply was truthful, if slightly bitter.
“For now. Speak truth, and I will listen.”
44: Uneasy Alliances
Ealrin ran back to the jungle just by the clearing. Silverwolf had already headed out as well. He didn't see Holve anywhere. He racked his brain trying to remember the last place he had seen him.
The lizards were still in a frenzy, clawing at one another and spearing each other to death. Ealrin could hear the sounds of their fighting, even though he was far enough away from them that he didn’t consider them to be a threat.
They had made it s
o far, through being captured, imprisoned not once but several times, getting separated, and nearly eaten by bugs, that it seemed almost unbelievable that they would lose Holve now.
Silverwolf came back, frustration evident on her face.
“The stupid shifters keep messing up the tracks,” she said. “But it looks for sure like Jerius and his crew made it out of the tunnel after all.”
“Mister Ealrin,” Jurrin offered from over next to the girl. Ealrin still wasn’t sure what they were going to do with her. Blume and Jurrin were both sitting next to her, taking turns drinking from the pool they had come upon.
Ealrin turned from Silverwolf and walked back over to them. Barton was uneasy, looking from side to side, switching his spear from hand to hand. Gorplin and Serinde stood watch, vigilant and prepared.
“What is it, Jurrin?” he asked, still looking around.
“This is Miss Olma,” the halfling said. “She says she saw Jerius grab Holve just as we were running away.”
Ealrin bent down low and looked into the face of this new girl. She had bright yellow hair and bright eyes. Her clothes weren’t old, but they were well worn. Her eyes held both fire and sadness. Ealrin took a deep breath.
“The older man who was with us,” he began. “You saw the prophet, Jerius, take him?”
Olma nodded.
“He and another guard tripped him and tied him up as we were running away,” she said softly.
Ealrin nodded.
“Thank you, Olma,” he said, standing up and thinking of what needed to be done.
“Are we going after the old man?” Silverwolf asked, coming up behind Ealrin and invading his thoughts. She knew him.
“We can’t just leave him to Ladis,” he replied.
“He should be given justice by Isol and Her Holiness,” Barton jumped in.
“You mean kill him?” Silverwolf asked. “Yeah, we don’t need your help here, grumpy.”
Ealrin looked from Barton to Silverwolf. She was an expert tracker. They needed her. But Barton knew what Isol’s invasion plan was. They would need him, too.
“We won’t turn our friend over to you,” Ealrin said, looking hard at Barton. “But, if you help us find him, we also won’t turn you over to Ladis. I’m sure they’d love to get their hands on a master scout in the Isolian army.”
Barton looked incredulous. Spear in hand, he eyed the group around him.
“Bah. Don’t think about trying to take us on all at once, lad,” Gorplin said, holding his small sword out proudly. “You’ll find we’re tougher than we look.”
Ealrin chuckled. He actually thought their little band looked fairly tough. That may have been what Gorplin meant.
“Fine,” Barton said. “More than likely Jerius is headed north, to the next Ladis castle. But I doubt he’d stop there. Not with Holve Bravestead in tow.”
“Prommus?” Silverwolf said, her eyebrows raised.
Barton nodded.
“The capital of Ladis,” he agreed. “We need to get moving if we’re going to try to beat him there.”
45: Flesh for Flesh
Jerius stood proud over the proceedings. He had been blessed to have been granted a coach to the capital once he had reached Ravus. Holve had been tied to the back of it and transported like the criminal he was. When they had arrived, the king had welcomed the news of Holve’s capture.
This was, of course, after he had learned that it had been Holve who was responsible for the death of his son, Farnus, and the heir to the throne of Ladis. The country was to be in mourning for another day before they took seriously the invasion of Isol.
The war in the Disputed Lands was locked in a stalemate. Most disconcerting, Jerius had learned, was that Isol was apparently holding off the numerical advantage of Ladis with much fewer numbers than they had anticipated. How else could they have orchestrated such an invasion into Ladis?
Even though the king’s face was somber, Jerius was glad to witness this spectacle beside him. He had been able to comfort the king and give him the justice he sought for his son. He watched the proceedings from the side of High Priest Regis. The two were similar in appearance: white hair and iron expressions. Jerius returned his gaze to the traitor, Holve.
This was to be a shining moment for him.
A plan was forming in Jerius’ mind that would serve him well in the turbulent times that were ahead. Though Ladis was about to plunge into another war, Jerius was preparing to position himself to benefit greatly. He could see it now.
Looking down on the executioner, he saw the High Priest drop the death rune. That was the signal. The large executioner raised his blade into the air. Jerius felt a rush of excitement. It had been he who had captured Holve. He who had apprehended him and brought him to the king.
And the only ones who knew for certain that Holve couldn’t possibly have killed Prince Farnus were either dead or standing beside him as his personal guard, never to leave his sight. The fools who had encountered the lizards in the jungle were surely all eaten and rotting in some lost part of Ladis.
Everything had been taken care of so well.
And then the executioner let out a yell and dropped his blade, the shaft of an arrow protruding from his arm. The steel missed Holve by the span of a hand. The old general was up and fighting before the hilt of the sword that was to end his life hit the ground.
The crowd was panicking and running in all directions over the porch. Jerius grabbed the railing and shouted down to the guards.
“Do not let the heretic escape! Pin him down! Stop him!”
So caught off their guard, the men in Ladis uniforms scrambled to both discover who had shot the arrow and how to apprehend Holve.
And then something happened on the Red Porch that had not in hundreds of years. Magical bolts of energy rose into the air and found their targets. The Ladis soldiers dropped in heaps of armor and twitching bodies.
“Heretics!”
“A witch!”
“Demons among us!”
The panicked yells of the crowd went up like calls of wounded animals. They fled from the Porch and down into the city streets, the spectacle they had hoped to see made a mess by the presence of a Speaker on hallowed ground.
Jerius was looking for those who were not running with the crowd and finally spotted a few. Some of the people below weren’t running away from the Porch, they were running to the center of it. Where Holve was.
“There!” Jerius shouted, rage filling his voice as he indicated the group he recognized and loathed. The ones he had brought from the island.
Holve’s companions.
Another burst of magical energy dropped the two guards who were fighting Holve to the ground. The general burst up from the brawl as his opponents were sent rolling off of the plinth. He ran down the steps to meet the group that had gathered there.
“Shoot them! Strike them down” Jerius cried at the guards who were standing beside him. They raised their bows and pulled back their arrows.
“Stop!” came the voice of the female Speaker. So strong was the command that Jerius found his own voice stymied by the girl.
They stood there, defiant. No guards moved to attack them. Most of them lay scattered on the floor of the Red Porch, incapacitated by the blasts from this girl’s magic.
How dare she raise the forbidden arts within the great city of Prommus!
Jerius was furious. And to have it happen right before the king and the High Priest. His rage was so bottled up within him that he felt dangerously ready to burst.
A spark erupted from his hand and he broke free of the girl’s spell, regaining his voice and ability to move.
“Time to go!” Holve shouted as the others around Jerius began to move as well.
The high priest stepped forward and clutched the railing weakly. Jerius saw that the old man’s mouth hung open, apparently in shock.
“It... It can’t be.”
“Shoot! I said shoot them!” Jerius commanded again. The guards sh
ook themselves and pulled back their bows. The white-haired woman shook back her hood and readied her own arrow, along with two of the others of the group. The foolish young man and hideous elf.
“Stop!” the king shouted, looking down at the group gathered before the martyr’s block. “What have you to say for disturbing such a sacred place with your demonic arts?”
Jerius looked and saw that the woman with the white hair was staring back at them with an expression that had suddenly changed and become different.
Bitter.
“Hello, Father,” she said. The statement hung in the air for just a moment as Jerius processed what she had just said.
The High Priest’s daughter? It wasn’t possible.
The woman looked remorseful as she loosed an arrow that struck the High Priest in the shoulder. He wailed with pain just as the Red Porch glowed with a brilliant flash of light.
When Jerius opened his eyes again to look down at the spot where they stood, they were gone.
The Story Continues
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Enjoy the journey,
RG Long
