As soon as Vandemus turns his head, he catches a glimpse of several riders only a couple of hundred yards behind. He knows the sobering truth. The men had spotted Balto and had given chase. If Vandemus had not arrived, they would surely have killed him.
From less than two hundred yards away, Aster observes the man stoop to pick up the boy and his dog. It is impossible at this distance to ascertain if it is Vandemus, but Aster knows it is. The exchange takes several seconds and gives Aster and his men time to close the distance. So, by the time Vandemus puts his horse into a full gallop, Aster and his men are now about a hundred yards away.
As soon as Vandemus is a few yards away from his door, he jumps off his horse and rushes the boy and the dog inside. The house, much like the barn structure is well fortified and built. It is a beautiful, oak, stone and brick house, painted a vibrant maple wood orange, camouflaging it behind the maple wood trees that serve as sentry outside his luxurious home.
When the men are within fifty yards of the home, Aster motions to Pell, who removes his long rifle. He takes careful aim and the horse and fires, sending a forty-caliber shot through the neck of Feathermore, who whinnies painfully and then topples over, blood gushing from its cavernous wound. He is still in seconds.
Once a few yards away, the men dismount. Aster assumes the lead role. It suits Felinius. He has lost his appetite to lead. Aster watches him suspiciously. He did not buy his story about Soke, knowing that it was next to impossible that any man could have made it that far.
Aster addresses Pell. “Go around to his barn and kill his livestock. We don’t want him trying to abscond.” Pell nods.
“You runt! Fire up some torches. We going to burn this place to the ground. Find some kerosene drums. They are sure to be here, set watch and warrant.”
Felinius dismounts and paces back and forth, pondering his options, which are very limited. An entire family is inside. They will no doubt perish. Several gunshots issue forth, inducing him into action. His heart trip-hammers in his chest and then painful blackness erupts in his head. He tries to hold on to consciousness but is unable. What the fuck?
“What the fuck? Why did you hit him? Is he dead?” asks a young scruff named Puck.
Aster bends down towards Felinius to better observe. He is breathing. “No, just out cold. He’s a wily one, so he is. Becoming a liability. Better to be safe. If he was to become a turncoat, we’d all be dead, so we would. When he comes to, set watch and warrant, this will be all over and won’t be much for him to do but blither like the cunt fool he is.”
“He’ll be as mad as hell when he comes to, no doubt,” says Puck.
“Well then, mayhap, I’ll just have to tell him it was you that hit him upside the head on my orders. Perhaps you will get the brunt of his retaliation.”
“Oh, really? I would say thankee for that as well.” Puck says facetiously.
Aster laughs and walks off. Several shots ring out followed by the agonizing mewling and whinning of the animals. Pell and his men return with a small drum of kerosene oil. They pour it around the perimeter of the house and then light it. The flames quickly spread, licking at the structure menacingly, slowing taking hold. Once they do, they are relentless. Soon, the flames become a raging inferno. The flames eat away the structure relentlessly. The mortar and brick are slow to burn, needing more heat, but the wood burns easily, fanning the flames and creating a raging heat that scorches everything in its path.
As first, Felinius comes to and believes himself to be in hell itself. The raging heat creates a heat wave that extends within a seventy-yard radius, waking Felinius prematurely. He lifts his head and his temples pound monstrously, sending shock waves of pain that reverberate throughout his body. Every small movement is agonizing. He is not in hell after all. He is still alive.
Uncomfortable with the heat blast, he rises but too quickly. When he gets to his feet, he vomits and walks back away from the flame, stumbling, still dizzy and trying to shake off the vestiges of his forced slumber.
When he gets to a comfortable distance, he observes the raging inferno. He has no doubt. Vandemus and his kin are dead inside. His preoccupation with his conscience dulled his senses enough for someone to get the drop on him. It could have cost him his life. If he had not had such favor with Herod, he would surely have been dead. He knows who it was-Aster. The man had his doubts about him.
Aster walks over to Felinius. “Well, well sleepy ‘un, you return to the land of the living. Welcome.” He says mockingly.
Purely by instinct, Felinius lashes out, delivering a powerful jab to his face, smashing him in the nose and emitting a spray of blood. He falls to the ground and holds his nose, temporarily dazed. Shaking off his daze, he gets up, intending to retaliate but thinks better of it.
“What gives, horsefucker? I should set you right. Set watch.”
Felinius cuts him off. “You will do what?” He asks. “In a fair fight, I would cut you down like a dandelion stalk. Come at me direct, face to face and see how you fare. You ken?”
Aster knows he is no match for Felinius on any level, whether with a gun, fist, knife or sword. He draws back and allows his anger to give way. “I couldn’t take a chance with you.” He says defensively in a nasally voice. “You are a liability, so you are. Perhaps I saved your conscience some as well since you did not have to participate in foul deed or shirk your duties. You could become a turncoat as well-yet again.” He says accusingly.
Felinius steps closer to Aster until he is only inches away, gritting his teeth in a menacing gesture much like a snarling wolf. “You believe me to be a turncoat? Is that what you think?” He asks, as if he is daring Aster to admit it.
“Would’ve been my head if this family is spared. You know this. I couldn’t take a chance. I know you could kill me. Set watch and warrant it, I will not braze a sleeping beast, so I won’t. What’s done is done. We will part and be about our ways. You ken?”
Felinius sighs and steps back. “Ai. But if I were you, I would tread carefully around me. My reasonableness has its limits and you’ve nearly reached it.”
Aster steps back and walks away, keeping his eyes facing forward, refusing to turn his back. Felinius walks back, far away from the rest of the men and sits by himself in the meadow and observes as the fire continues to consume the house, the embers dying away as its fuel source is removed.
He rubs at his temples as the pain continues to explode through his body in electric jolts. He looks on, the guilt coupling with the throbbing pain in his temples, causing his eyes to water. Perhaps they are tears. It is just as well. He shuts his eyes and tries to block out the agonizing cries that seem to echo in his head.
Chapter 14: A Truce
Herod removes the bond paper from the telegraph machine and smiles at Morgana. “Is it done?” She asks.
Herod nods. “Ai. The scene whitewashed. No one from Cortez who had any association with me is alive. Only one man did not summon the call.”
“Vandemus.” She says matter of fact.
“Ai. He was a slippery one at that. But my men hunted him down, his domicile burned to the ground. Nothing left but ashes.”
“It is well,” says Morgana. “He would be a liability you don’t need at this juncture.”
“Ai,” replies Herod. “Let the brethren conduct their search and we shall see what comes of it.”
(2)
Maximus studies the card and reads out loud again, trying to decipher its meaning. “Such is the case with me. As vulnerable as a newborn-ivory white as snow is my home. You will find me hidden away high above, far away from prying eyes and the clutches of enemies that would roost away my life before I have opened mine eyes to the world. Only those that would dare to risk life and limb would attempt to steal me away.”
“It’s an ivory hind-serpent,” offers Jericho. “I have seen some that venture up in the canyons of Maldoon.”
“But they do not make their homes, perched high in the canyons,” argues Luke.
“One more clue to solve and if we find it, we win the challenge,” remarks Lance eagerly.
Dante smiles to himself, enjoying their bewilderment.
The others in the group can’t help but to notice that he is smiling. “Well comp, do you know what the answer is? You seem to be enjoying yourself at our expense.”
“I do know what the answer is.” He says nonchalantly.
“What?” cry the other boys.
“It’s an eggert, the smallest of the predatory birds. An eggert egg.”
“What makes you think so?” asks Maximus.
“The case refers to the shell of the eggert egg, which is also as ‘white as snow’. Roost is a bird term. The eggert makes its nest perched high above, specifically the canyons of Maldoon, so Jericho was right about the place. We have to retrieve the egg.”
“Dante is right,” says Maximus.
“But who do we send up there?” asks Jericho.
“Could be the death of the one we send,” warns Luke.
“I’ll go,” offers Dante.
They look at Dante dubiously as if he had lost his mind.
“You would fall to your death,” says Jericho.
“As you all would as well. I won’t be as scared, set watch and warrant it.”
“I’ll go with you,” offers Maximus.
“Then it’s settled,” replies Dante. The others in the group look quite uneasy but do not vocalize their misgivings. Every time they had underestimated the boy, he had surprised them. But even so, being in possession of their complete faculties, they could not imagine traversing up those difficult cliffs and without the proper equipment to boot.
They nod reluctantly. “Ai.” They say.
At dawn the next day, Maximus and Dante begin their treacherous climb, strapping extra water moccasins on them, which they will surely need. The first couple of hours are easy enough as the incline is only about a 30-degree angle, but by midday, the angle has increased to 45, causing their quads to burn and their hands to ache.
The sweltering heat bakes the rocks, forcing them to move more quickly than what they feel comfortable. In order to avoid a burn, they must keep their hands moving continuously, when they must overtake a rock that is not shaded. The further up they go, the trees and the shade become more sporadic and when they do encounter a tree, it is of the scraggly and spindly type, allowing for little if any shade.
After every two hours, they stop and take small sips of water and give some to Phates and Cammilia, which the dogs greedily lap up.
“You hungry?” asks Dante.
“Ai. I’d eat a horse if I could find one.”
“Don’t think you would find one up here,” replies Dante jokingly. “You’ll have to settle for dried bison.” Dante take his knife and strips off several pieces for Maximus. And then he takes several larger pieces and strips them off for Phates and Cammilia, who greedily devour them.
“Dante?” asks Maximus.
“Ai?”
“What was it like for you? When they buried you alive?”
“Not as scary as you would imagine. A part of me felt peace. I didn’t cry in front of them.”
“You didn’t cry at all?” asks Maximus dubiously.
“No, of course I cried. I didn’t cry in front of them. Didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. You ken? When they threw me in that coffin, nailed it shut and started to bury me alive, I cried fierce, so I did. After a couple of hours, the tears dried up probably from dehydration.”
“Ai. But what did it feel like?”
“Have you ever been really thirsty? Unable to sleep because you are tossing and turning? Having a pounding in your head so bad it made your eyes water?”
Maximus nods. “Ai. Had many of those things happen, so I have.”
“Now imagine if they all happened to you at once. But imagine that the pain is ten times as much, even a hundred times as much, more pain than you never knew you had the ability to feel.”
“That’s painful. And hard to imagine such. Would have lost my mind,” says Maximus.
“You are stronger than you think, Comp. You don’t know what you would have done.”
Maximus shakes his head and sobs quietly, the tears streaming down his face, his body racking with guilt. “I did this to you.” He says, trying hard to keep his voice from breaking and quivering.
Dante puts his hand on his shoulder and squeezes. “I know you did. I’ve always known. You have always tried to remove me from this place. But still-here I am.”
Maximus inhales and his breathing breaks, shaking off the vestiges of his sobbing inhalations. “Ai. You are here and I believe I have accepted that you may always be here.”
“Forgiving you was one of the hardest things I had to do, but it also made things much better. As you say, I will always be here, and you will have to accept that. My tormentor is still out there, trying to kill me and do other evil things.”
“Ai,” says Maximus as he bows his head in shame.
“I will never forgive him for what he has done to me. I know he is powerful and can control people, which is what he did to you. But don’t ever betray me again.”
Maximus shakes his head. “I won’t.” He says as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.
“If you ever do betray me, then we are enemies again and I promise I will never forgive you. My capacity for forgiveness has its limits.”
“Ai.”
“You and I are brothers. We must respect whoever is to lead this group. You ken?”
Maximus nods. “Ai.”
“So, I think we should have a truce. You ken?”
“Ai,” says Maximus. He extends his hand and Dante graciously accepts it.
Dante pauses and ruminates for several minutes, not saying anything. But then, he sighs and faces Maximus. “Maximus, there’s one thing that bothers me though.”
“What’s that?”
“Whoever this interloper is you know him.”
“Ai,” says Maximus. “That I do.”
Maximus looks at Dante intently. “But I can’t tell you who it is. Merlin made me promise.”
“Why?”
“I think he’s afraid.”
“Of the interloper?”
“No. Of you. And what you would do if you ever found out. Someday he’ll be charged and executed. Then you’ll get your justice.”
Dante nods. “I think about that day more than anything.”
“Then I guess Merlin was right.”
Dante sighs. “Perhaps it’s better that I don’t. We’ll speak no more of this comp,” says Dante as he pats him affectionately on the shoulder.
Dante gets up and Maximus follows him. “We have a mountain to climb. It’s going to be difficult from here on out. You ken?”
“Ai,” responds Maximus. He looks at the continuing ascent with trepidation. The angle rises sharply and the vegetation on which they could easily get handholds have all but disappeared. The sparse vegetation that does grow out of the rocky outcropping is bristly, thorny and sharp, though it does look strong. In a pinch, if they needed a stronghold, they could grasp onto it, though the pain would be intense.
The wolves are well equipped for treacherous climbing like this, but even they are not invulnerable to a fall.
“How much further do you think before we reach their nesting grounds?” asks Dante.
Maximus looks up and sees a few eggerts flying near the rocky cliffs, but they appear minuscule from this distance. “A couple of thousand feet from this distance I would say,” ventures Maximus, a little discouragingly.
The foursome begin their trek, ascending the rocky outcropping at a snail’s pace, compared to the speed at which they had done their previous climb. To avoid the heat of the rocks, they move quickly but methodically. Foothold by foothold, they position their agile
bodies up the face of the rocks, grasping onto even the smallest and barest of handles. The wolves keep low to the ground and continuously push up their bodies to preclude the fatal effects of gravity.
Cammilia’s paws have become more resilient since she had completely deteriorated the padding on her paws, causing calluses to build up on top of the padding, making her nearly impervious to the heat of the rocks. The dogs push their retractable claws out into the tiniest crevice holes, which act much like grappling hooks.
Unfortunately, the boys are not so well-equipped. Maximus reaches forward and grasps onto a handhold. The rock is extremely hot, and his hand is slippery from sweat. He slips and falls. He cries out.
With lightning quick reflexes, Dante snaps out a bulla whip he confiscated off Merlin, catching Maximus about the wrists. Maximus grasps onto the whip and cries out. “Don’t let me go, Dante!”
“Never.”
Phates looks back at him and whimpers.
“Get a handhold, Maximus! Can’t hold you forever.” He cries desperately.
Dante swings him and Maximus desperately reaches for a large crevice in the rock, catching hold of it. “Got it.” He yells.
Dante sighs.
Trying hard to overcome his paralyzing fear, Maximus ventures on, slowly but surely. After a couple of hours, Dante ascends far enough along to come to the nest of an eggert. The egg is larger and harder than he would have imagined. Several eggerts gawk in surprise and alarm, unaccustomed to their domicile being intruded on, especially at such heights. Maximus puts the egg in his satchel.
“Got one.” He yells out.
At this point, Maximus doesn’t care anything about the scavenger hunt and Dante’s exclamation falls on indifferent ears. He wants only to live to get to the top of the cliff.
Maximus is parched. The extreme exertion and his paralyzing fear dehydrated him prematurely. He throws caution to the wind and drains the last of his water moccasins down his gullet. He ventures on.
The Test of Ostra Page 9
