Taking Keldron by his good arm, she pulled him away from the gathered crowd and took him to the horses to get some bandages from her pack. Joleen trailed behind closely.
Raoul chuckled as he followed behind. “It seems our arguments are becoming legendary for their bad timing, old friend.”
Belyn grinned in response and clapped Raoul on the shoulder. “That they are, brother. And before you say it again, I agree with you. It makes me wonder why all of this hasn't been previously studied. Every explosion we make, every person that gets hurt is a contravention of the Old Law, but it seems that in recent times we have had to exist that way, or we would have probably found ourselves ending up like these people.”
“So what would you do, give up this studying of focus stones?” Keldron responded, his reply becoming a key question.
Belyn laughed out loud, in stark contrast with the ghostly silence of the village. “Absolutely not Kel. We are on the verge of discovering something big here, I can almost put my finger on it.”
Raoul looked around him at the bleak, slightly overgrown verges on the side of the track. “Here?”
“No!” Belyn exclaimed, cuffing his friend around the back of the head to emphasise his point. “I mean this situation, coupled with what we are learning about the stones. There is something looming over the horizon, metaphorically speaking. We just need to walk in the right direction, using the right knowledge, and we will find it.”
Raoul frowned. “I just want to get to Caighgard.”
“All in good time, my friend. It wouldn't surprise me if Caighgard was wrapped up in this mess as well, but I am sure that we will get there in due course. We have been following events ever since the night we left the Order, and we have barely stopped for breath.” Belyn looked skywards, his face full of a mock humility. “If I were a betting man, I would say that we have not seen the last of whomever was behind the disaster in the forest.” He looked around at the gathered tribesmen and grinned. “Thank the Law I am a guildsman, and not a betting man.”
Malcolm approached them from the horses, where he had been gathering ointments. “Will these do?”
Yerdu poked around at the various jars in his immense hands. “You have most of what I need. What's the rush?”
Seeing Keldron's arm as if for the first time, Malcolm grimaced. “It would be better on my brothers if they went out of the village. I think this is disturbing them a bit more than they would care to admit.”
Keldron glanced over at the tribesmen. They appeared as they always did, straight-faced, ready to move quickly if needed, but there was the slightest tightening around their eyes, as if they were ready to shift uneasily. “By all means, do so,” he replied. “I know exactly what you mean. I am not altogether comfortable here either.
“I will join you.” Raoul strode off behind the tribesmen.
“Well the colour has returned to his face at least, cold wind or not.” Belyn spoke aloud to nobody in particular. Keldron saw it as a need to fill the void in this village.
As he watched Raoul stride out of the village, Keldron let the ladies administer his arm.
Belyn kept his distance. “I'm ashamed at what I had to do, that there was no better solution to snapping you out of it.”
“Don't be.”
“How is it?” He asked, looking at Keldron's arm.
“Hurts like hell, but thanks for doing that to me,” Keldron replied. “Why did you have to be so thorough?”
“My friend, you were gone from us.” Belyn admitted. “I let the smallest of flames sear your skin for but a moment, thinking that would bring you round, but it had no effect. I had to increase the power of the focus tenfold, and even then I was afraid to let it touch you for more than the briefest of moments. If I had left it any longer, you would have use of your arm no more.”
Keldron flexed his arm, wincing as he did so. “Well the bandages and ointment my nurses found for me seem to be helping somewhat. It feels more comfortable already.”
“Aye, and it will only stay that way if the bandage is redressed and ointment applied regularly, wizard,” replied Yerdu, eyeing her work. Then she winked at him. “I think I will leave that in the capable hands of my sister.”
Joleen had the grace to blush, before giving Keldron a sly glance and a small smile. He grinned in response. Joleen always looked lovely to him, but she could stop his heart if she so wanted.
“So come on then Kel,” said Belyn, suddenly assuming a business-like manner. “A problem shared is a problem halved or some such statement. Tell us what you saw.”
Keldron looked at the ladies. “You do not have to stay to listen should you feel the need.”
Yerdu let out a loud 'Harrumph'. “We share the same beliefs as our fellow tribesmen Belyn, but we will listen to your story. Wild horses couldn't drag us away, not out to that cold wind beyond the edge of the village.”
“Okay then,” he replied. “First off, I do not believe that this has been done by those responsible for the Night of Spears twenty seasons ago. There are just too many things that ring false about the whole situation.” Keldron shivered in the slight breeze, and Joleen led them into the lee of one of the houses, one attached to a large mill whose sails now barely moved in the breeze. They sat down on the porch, leaning against some of their bags, and Keldron continued. “The spears are the most important part. The records show that twenty seasons past, witnesses saw spears heavily etched with runes and other engraved symbols. The spears that have impaled this poor lot have none of those. The spears from before had crosspieces. There were none this time. I think the biggest difference was the selection of those that were killed. Random or not, the numbers were far fewer. It is my opinion that whomever did this was again trying to make it look like a repetition, but they had none of the skill, or even the beliefs of the murderers from yesteryear.”
“Could they not have been in a hurry to complete their work?” Queried Belyn.
“I do not think so, my friend,” Keldron replied, absently reaching for his arm only to have his hand slapped away by Joleen. “If they went so far to get stakes, assuming that was the same people that took the trees in that woodland we visited, then they knew their purpose, and were in no hurry. Consider what you would do if haste were an issue.” Keldron pointed around him. “If you were going to do something so violent to so many people, there would be plenty of wood locally to use in such a crime.” They looked where Keldron pointed. The house had wood on the porch, wooden poles holding it up, and piles of wood to be used in the fires that held off the deep chill of the wind. “See? They made a point of going afar to get the wood. They, whoever these people are, made a point of trying to make this seem like something it wasn't. I think that they were uninformed. I would say that they have only heard what talk people have said on the streets and tried to replicate the Night of Spears.”
“But that is not entirely the point of this massacre, is it?” Belyn said quietly.
Suddenly to Keldron the air seemed that much colder, and the sense of ill-feeling seemed that much more palpable. He shook his head, looking into the distance as if trying to understand something beyond his comprehension, something that was just out of sight. “When I had finished looking at the spear, I stood up and made a few notes in my journal. As I put it away, I felt that I had to grasp my focus stone. I know not why, but it was a compulsion.” Keldron furrowed his eyebrows, and pursed his lips. “Well not really a compulsion. I didn't force myself to do it. If that had been the case then I am sure that you would have had the same need to focus on the grisly scene. No, I think it was more like something in that room triggered an impulse in me. I just reacted to it without thinking.”
“What did you see?” Yerdu urged, caught up with his tale. Despite the fact that their very nature made the tribeswomen uncomfortable, it seemed that the Wizards' understanding of events was rubbing off on those of the tribe that were close with them. At one time Joleen and Yerdu would never have come into this village, relyin
g on instinct to keep them away from anything as evil as this.
“It was amazing, and terrifying to behold. I have never witnessed anything like it. I saw the men, for men they definitely were by their large menacing stature. They manhandled the victim, picking him up like a toy, and throwing him with contempt onto the stake, which they had wedged against the table.” Keldron sat down, and Joleen unconsciously put her arm about his shoulders, being careful to avoid his burn. “The man screamed as I have never seen anyone scream before. The suffering was on a scale greater than the broken heart of a lover. Imagine you had had your entire family killed, and everyone you know stabbed before your very eyes. I think this was the level of pain experienced by this man. I saw his ribs part as the stake slid through him. Belyn, I could see his ribs! I could feel the stake moving through him as if it were me! Blood fountained everywhere from the wound, splashing the men responsible for this…this evil. I watched as the man died twitching on the stake, as he twisted and injured himself more than I thought possible. His name was Dessoc. He was a carpenter. I saw the blood pool on the stone floor as the murderers left.”
Keldron sat there for a while, quietly. It was obvious that this experience had affected him in a way more profound than any experience of his life so far. After a time he found that he could speak again. “Then I was taken somewhere else. I saw somebody I recognised chained to a wall. In a prison cell.”
“Who was it?” Belyn spoke quietly as the gloom around them deepened.
“Belyn, it was Obrett. Our master has been taken captive. He was just hanging there. I think he was trying to use a rock in the prison wall to focus to somebody. Perhaps us, maybe somebody else. He was surprised to see me, I could guess that much.”
Belyn stood and started to pace. “Any idea where?”
“Sorry, there was nothing. Wait, there was a feeling. It was in the distance but altogether evil, and quite overpowering. I have felt it only once before, when we were hiding out the back of an Inn, in the Forest of Merdon. The nameless evil that appears all too often.”
“That creature can only have been conjured in one place, Kel. That means our master is prisoner in Raessa. Damn it, we are so far away.”
“Then don't worry about something you have no control over, foolish man.” Yerdu tutted after she spoke. “Continue, Keldron.”
“I think that I managed to get myself out of the house before I lost track of my actions. It felt as if I were falling down a freezing abyss. I could see you all as if through a far-off window, but there was nothing I could do, no action that I could take to bring myself back, however hard I fought. I just went deeper and deeper, further away from the light until it slammed back with a force that rocked my very soul. The next thing I knew, you were standing by me and my arm was fried to a crisp.” Keldron glared with mock anger at Belyn, who cowered, if such a thing were possible for the big red man. Keldron would milk this for all it was worth. He rarely got one over on either Belyn or Raoul and despite the pain, he was enjoying that part of his experience. “But there was something more to it, I am sure. I got the impression from the murderers that they were not satisfied, and I am certain that this feeling was not that they hadn't finished off the village. They were in a rush, but they were far from satiated. It was as if this village was not enough for them. The feeling extends to something more.” Keldron shuddered, as if he was afraid of prophesising a doom he could not escape from. “I believe this is not the only village that we will find like this. I believe that there is somebody out there with a massive ill intent to this land and its inhabitants.” His companions reflected his mood: pale, sober faces.
“What you say is chilling, Kel. I have never heard you speak so before. You are analytical, and driven in pursuit of your goals, but never like this. Belyn's sombre tone left them all with nothing to say. Yerdu clutched at Belyn, and Joleen hugged Keldron's good side as hard as she could. The need for words was set aside as they heard the rapid thump of heavy footsteps running through the village. Out of breath, Raoul thundered up to them, and then leaned on the post at one edge of the porch, panting as he tried to master the angry protests of his body in order to speak. His eyebrows rose as he comprehended that all was not well. His tongue hung out like a hunting hound as he breathed in deeply to calm himself, and then doubled over as he realised his mistake.
“Yes Raoul, the air is still cold.” Keldron's comment brought a rustle of laughter from the rest, to which Raoul shook his head violently.
“Here, wipe the sweat off of you before it freezes to your skin.” Yerdu handed Raoul a cloth, getting a nod of thanks.
“There is a group of horse riders heading this way out of the East, following the same track we did towards the village.”
This prompted Keldron to stand and look in the direction from which Raoul had run. There was a different look in his friend's eyes to any Keldron had ever seen before, as if Raoul had suddenly discovered some kind of unavoidable fate, and was intending to rush headlong to meet it. He decided that he had to keep a close watch on his friend, as he would never be prepared to lose him.
“Our tracks, will they be noticed?”
“No. The tribesmen will make sure that the road to the village looks untouched, and Malcolm is checking around the village to conceal our signs.” In the breeze, doors swung on rusty hinges, and shutters clacked against window frames. “I don't think Malcolm will find concealing our tracks here a problem, my friend. This village was an unkempt tomb before we arrived, and I don't think we have done enough to make it look any different.” Raoul said this with confidence, as much for the benefit of his friends as for himself. “True, we have not been in many buildings, and even then not for long.”
“Who would want to?” Belyn added, his voice sombre.
Shortly, Malcolm joined them, and not long after that, the reminder of the tribesmen passed quietly but quickly through the village.
“That mill looks to be a good place to conceal ourselves. It has an empty stable and plenty of defendable space to hide ourselves in.”
“Defendable?” Queried Raoul. “We don't even know who they are. They could be merchants, villagers responding to this massacre, who knows what?”
“And they could also be those responsible for this, or even worse,” asserted Malcolm, his squeaky high voice sounding belligerent as he tried to lower it. “Would you risk that? From the mill we will be able to see who they are and whether or not they bear us any ill will. If you are right then all the better, but would you risk it?”
At this, Raoul acquiesced. They moved quickly and quietly into the yard of the mill, and stabled the horses. The tribesmen, Aynel, Arden Silverbark, Handel Broadbough and the fourth member, Seren Willowonce, accompanied the horses, as did Malcolm. Raoul remained in the yard with Joleen and Yerdu; there was not a chance of any of them entering the house. Belyn led the way into the miller's home.
“The reek of wafted evil is not as strong here.”
“I guess that had there been any occupants, the miasma of woe resulting from their agonizing deaths would have touched us by now, judging by what we have seen. I think we are safe in this place. Nobody was murdered in here, Bel.”
A reassuring nod from his fellow wizard reassured him. “Go and get the ladies.”
“Raoul too?”
Belynn smirked, and then broke into a grin, showing that he still maintained his sense of humour. “Did I not say go get the ladies?”
Belyn let out a short guffaw, and Keldron received a rough pat to the shoulder. He turned quickly to protect his wounded arm, and Belyn grimaced at nearly having caused more pain to his friend.
Leaving Belyn to find a spot where they could watch and yet remain sheltered, Keldron returned through the parlour to the yard. He found Raoul shivering just inside the gate that had been left ajar, just as they had found it. Raoul stood there with his arms wrapped close, hugging himself against the cold. Joleen and Yerdu had prudently seated themselves out of the breeze.
“L…l…l…lookout.” Raoul managed to chatter.
“Lookout my behind,” Keldron replied, “come inside.” Raoul began to protest, as Keldron well knew that he would, he added, “There was no murder in this house, brother. Do you think that I would allow you all in there after what happened to me?” This mollified his friend, who followed him in. At the discovery that the house was clean of the foul aura that clouded the rest of the village, Joleen and Yerdu also accompanied them in. Malcolm and the tribesmen remained with the horses to keep their steeds silent as only people so in tune with nature could do.
Inside the house, the four of them made their way around the building until they found where Belyn had secreted himself. It was a study with an open window, and drapes that had never been closed. The dust on the windowsill was deep and grey, further evidence that nothing had been touched. Belyn had taken a seat in one of the sturdy but comfortable looking chairs. The study did not look like it had been used much. A few books, a pot of quills and a couple of ledgers were all the room contained aside from the larger furniture.
“The miller had either been a man who loved order, or he had not been one for letters and numbers.” Belyn peered at the ledger and nodded in approval. Keldron took his eyes away from the slit in the drapes to take note of what Belyn was doing.
“Something you like?”
Belyn smiled with a tinge of regret. “This miller was one with the Old Law. He made flour and gave away as much as he sold. In fact, he hardly made any profit, just enough to keep everyone happy. The ledger shows what he did with the flour. It looks like he gave it away as gifts to the workers both here and on other farmsteads.” Belyn shook his head in disbelief. “Why would someone want to kill a generous people like this?”
The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2) Page 5
