The New Hero Volume 2

by ed. Robin D. Laws

  Now that they were here, the zeringes would keep the temple’s external guards busy while she infiltrated, assassinating her target.

  In the meantime, she had still to figure out a way to get past the temple’s magical wards.

  The priest concluded his proclamation and bid the townsfolk a fine, prosperous morning. Before he retreated through the temple’s gates, Osuran Malul whispered to the burliest of his guards, who then turned his attention to a nearby nobleman in a crimson tunic. Kaja had earlier seen the man and a dark-haired youth unload valuable gifts for the temple from their pack mule—the man had lavished more gifts on the priest than any others, in fact.

  Surely he’s provided enough to satisfy you, dark one. What more could you want?

  The crowd started dispersing, ambling along as if in no hurry to start the day, but the nobleman moved more quickly, towing the boy with him. Osuran’s man rushed to overtake him. “Don’t leave so fast, Telthen. I need a word with you,” he said, grabbing the nobleman by the arm. The townspeople continued on their way with only a few backward glances.

  The guardsman turned Telthen around, forcing him to face the temple’s gates. Another guard came up to relieve him of his mule.

  “What do you want, Jadoc?”

  Jadoc maneuvered himself behind the nobleman to block any escape. “Come inside for a bit, won’t you. Telthen?”

  “Don’t you hurt my father!” the boy of about ten cried, pounding his fists against the guard’s armored back.

  “Oh, he’s not to be hurt—yet—young one,” the guard said, ignoring the insignificant blows. “But you may come along with your father to see for yourself. After all, Domias—that is your name, yes?—you may soon inherit his estate and all his obligations.”

  “We’ll discuss our business in the courtyard, Telthen. There are too many ears in the streets,” the guard said. Telthen stood his ground.

  A guardsman at the gate aimed his crossbow at the nobleman.

  Jadoc leaned near Telthen’s ear and whispered, but Kaja heard it all clearly: “Of course, if you don’t cooperate, Telthen, my men will gladly let your blood, and then I’ll kill your family myself. Your choice.”

  The nobleman bowed his head in resignation and plodded toward the temple. His son followed. The gates closed behind the retreating retinue, and Kaja could no longer see them or hear their conversation. Sending a thought to her lead zeringe scout, she ordered the bird to fly toward the courtyard to be her ears, while she remained on her rooftop perch across from the temple gates. The bird broke from its high position and glided downward, winging toward the walls. Just as it was about to clear the palisade, the zeringe slammed into an invisible barrier. The force bounced the bird backwards, and the creature tumbled over several times before righting itself. Determined, it flew forward again—much more slowly this time. But again it met resistance, and could not gain entrance to the courtyard.

  “Sorry, friend,” Kaja projected to the zeringe. “I thought the magical wards only kept out large things. They are strong indeed.”

  Undeterred, the crafty zeringe circled the wall, testing the obstruction, until finally locating an unprotected fence post to alight upon. The bird then focused on the targets it had been sent to watch.

  Through the bird’s eyes and ears, Kaja observed the courtyard scene. Telthen was shouting at the muscular guardsman beside a pool in the temple’s palm garden. “I’ve given Osuran gold, gems, and precious spices. I’ve given him soldiers. I’ve provided food and clothing for his men. I’ve even sent false information to lead my warlord brother astray in the north. What more must I give, Jadoc? When is it enough?”

  “Enough?” The bigger man chuckled. “It does not end, Telthen. You will give what you are asked to give. And then you will give more. And more beyond that. You owe your life to Osuran, and that is his expected payment.”

  Jadoc removed a dagger from his belt, and Telthen and the boy flinched. Kaja crouched low atop the building, preparing to take wing and give herself away if she must. Maybe she could break through the courtyard’s wards with the force of her speed. She had yet to try that. She pictured herself flying in, severing the man’s jugular, grabbing up the two nobles, and flying them to safety. It was dangerous, but it could be done. Her maraqaze inched its way into her veins at the thought; her hatred for Osuran and his men was strengthening it. Yes, blood. Spill it! Now.

  No! Be calm.

  Jadoc merely chuckled again at the reactions of the nobles. “You are jittery, my friends. We are only talking business.” He took the point of the blade and began cleaning under his fingernails.

  “The thing is, Telthen, my master wants what he wants. He’s done a great deal for this town, and for your family in particular. You owe him your life, and your wife’s life. He brought you both back from the brink of death when that plague had you in its terrible throes, and now you rebuff his requests? Deny his desires?” He tssked. “That’s not smart, my friend. I suggest you rethink your stance and bring that lovely daughter of yours to the temple as he requires. Bring Hesal here tonight. This is your last chance, you understand. Dress her in her finest, make her even more beautiful, and bring her here for Osuran.

  “Oh, and afterwards, you’d best see to the assassination of that troublemaking brother of yours on his battlefield. Despite your efforts, we’ve heard he’s won a major battle, and the tides are turning in his favor. We don’t want the war to end and we don’t want it at our door. We like our peace just fine.”

  He wants a girl? Her mind flew to the sister she’d lost to lust-filled, murderous men—men like Osuran—in her own city’s streets. She’d been powerless then to stop it and could only hide. She was not so weak now. Osuran, you will not have her! Deep fury rising within her amplified her maraqaze. She trembled beneath its strength. Momentarily, she let it flow through her, bathing in its raw, primal urges. Then she realized what she had done.

  Jadoc finished picking his nails, and began to return the knife to its scabbard. Suddenly he grabbed Telthen, pressing the knife to his neck. He let its tip penetrate, drawing blood. The scent of it drifted to Kaja’s feathered spy and through it to her. It pulled at her. She wanted to spill more, only it would not be Telthen’s; she craved Jadoc’s blood, his heart. She struggled to contain it, but it was much too late. The desire was so…very strong—overwhelmingly strong and joyous to her Marathuk nature.

  Kaja leapt from the roof, changing to her ferocious bird shape in mid-flight. She circled around the building to gain needed speed.

  “Actually, Telthen, the first task may be better suited to your son,” Kaja heard him say to the boy as she dived toward the courtyard. “He’s going to be the man of the family soon, so let him make his first business deal.”

  “You said you wouldn’t hurt him! You said you wanted to talk!” Domias battered Jadoc’s body with his fists to no avail.

  “No, Domias! No!”

  “More feather-taps from you, little man?” Jadoc laughed. “Domias, as long as you bring your sister to the temple gates at dusk, I’ll return your father to you. You fail to make the exchange, and I will kill him. Then, I will march my men to your house and take your sister for our master and your mother for us. Do you understand?”

  The boy looked to his father for guidance, but the dejected man wouldn’t meet his eyes. He merely whimpered and gave a slight nod.

  A cry went up at the gates. “The bird creature! The bird creature! It’s here!”

  Kaja let out a loud, angry series of caws as she zoomed toward the gates. The guards loosed a dozen crossbow bolts in her direction. Some flew true, but bounced off her hard skin. One man rushed off to ring the temple’s bell, to alert all within the complex—and the town—to the danger.

  Jadoc lowered his knife; his jaw followed. “What in the heavens is that?” he said, as the bird creature dived toward the gates. Even with her great speed, Kaja banged against the ward’s force, unable to penetrate it. She fell to the ground, momentarily stunned.
Pain surged through her. More bolts rained ineffectively down from above. Kaja paid them no heed: The barrier had her attention. She needed to get beyond it to feed her maraqaze. She cawed loudly in frustration and raked her claws along the invisible obstacle. The futility pushed her into a berserk rage, and she lost herself to her animal nature. For several minutes, she clawed, stabbed, and smashed at it, focusing all of her anger on it in a wild, cacophonous attack.

  The wards held.

  Jadoc cringed at the noise at the gates, but kept his senses. “Run, boy,” he yelled over his shoulder as he fast-walked Telthen toward the inner temple. “You better hope that creature doesn’t get you. And be expecting a guest later today to help you set up that assassination, Domias. I think I’ll have you take care of that as well,” he yelled before fleeing through the doorway.

  Domias ran toward the gate, fear energizing his legs.

  The temple guards flung open the gates, spilling out into the streets for a better shot at her. Bolts continued to strike Kaja, as she flew to the rooftops, avoiding a direct confrontation with the oncoming troops. The poor fools didn’t have the special silver-tipped bolts needed to penetrate her skin, but they might have a silver-edged sword or dagger among them.

  Kaja’s maraqaze was fading, perhaps exhausted by her tantrum against the ward. She saw young Domias safely fleeing the chaos, a zeringe scout close above him. She tamped down the last of her bloodlust, and took flight, soaring well outside the city. Osuran’s men now knew she was here. With Osuran’s counsel, they would soon realize what she was, and they would arm themselves appropriately.

  I lost control, and with it, I may have lost my kill.

  *

  At dusk, a trembling Domias arrived at the temple’s outer gates with a young woman in tow. He surveyed the demure girl with his large eyes, and his hand on her arm shook even more. She was adorned in her finest silk dress. Dazzling emerald rings bedecked her long fingers. A matching necklace lay on her outer clothing, between her breasts. A full-face veil covered her youthful countenance, hiding her emotions.

  “Halt!” a guard called out from above, and leaned over the wall to look out at the arrivals. He pointed a readied crossbow at them, as his eyes flitted from the murky sky to the streets beyond the pair, and back to them. “Get under the light, so I can see you better.”

  Domias reluctantly pulled the girl toward the gate, his knees knocking.

  “You are bringing the girl for Osuran, yes? She is called Hesal?” the guard asked.

  Domias nodded and whispered, “Yes.”

  “My but you are a tall one,” the guard noted to the girl, who stood a half foot taller than her brother.

  “These are Jadoc’s expected guests,” the guard yelled down to someone below. “They are safe to pass.” He returned to searching the sky, where dozens of strange black birds circled above. Their incessant cawing unnerved him and the other men, as did their occasional dives toward the guards’ heads. The birds were smart. They veered away quickly before making contact with the gate’s wards. This fact unsettled the guards more.

  The gates opened and the guards ushered the boy and girl inside. The men quickly shoved the gates closed, and four guardsmen surrounded the pair, while a fifth rushed across the courtyard toward the inner temple.

  The boy’s courage began to falter, but the girl at his side squeezed his hand to reassure him. He took a deep breath and straightened himself, trying to gather his calm.

  After several moments, Jadoc swaggered up to them. He clasped Domias’s shoulder and smiled. “Fine job, my boy! You are much smarter than your father, I see.”

  “Where is my father? You said you’d exchange him for Hesal.”

  “Yes, yes. In due time, Domias.” He removed his arm and moved to the girl. “Let’s have a look at the beauty who’s had my master so enthralled.” He lifted the light cloth, and stared into a heavenly oval face. He let out a low whistle. “Yes, you are indeed a fair beauty. But,” he added, leering over her figure and checking her backside, “you are a little too thin—and young—for my tastes. Still, when the boss tires of you, I’ll pay you a visit.”

  Jadoc stopped and shook his head. For a moment, he could have sworn her face was older, that of a girl in her twenties, and her bright eyes…they had stared back defiantly. He blinked. No. No. She was a girl, a young, dark-haired beauty of about eleven, he’d guess, though tall for her age. Her brown eyes were very meek, really. Her face showed only compliance. Timidity rolled off of her in waves as she dropped her gaze to the ground.

  “Ah, yes, you are quite a beauty, aren’t you?”

  She did not reply.

  “Oh, there’s no need to answer, little girl. You’ll be talking—or making noises at least—soon enough.” He replaced her veil, and then headed for the temple. “Come along.” The surrounding guards pushed the pair behind the retreating Jadoc.

  The other guards stopped at the inner temple doors, and only Jadoc went through with the two. After locking the massive doors behind them, Jadoc led the pair along the marble-floored corridor through a series of halls with vaulted side chambers filled to overflowing with gifts to the temple.

  Finally, they arrived at their destination. “Be on your best behavior and bow your heads to Osuran. You will be in the presence of a god-kin, and you must show respect.” He then knocked. “My great lord, your beautiful guest has arrived,” Jadoc said. “May we enter?”

  “Yes. Bring me my prize.”

  Jadoc led the girl into the room, bringing her before the seated Osuran. The priest rose from his padded armchair, anticipation twisting his features. “Finally, you will be mine, my beauty. Your father has kept you from me for far too long.” He pulled up the cloth covering her face, and blinked. Confusion crossed his face.

  “What foulness is this? Who have you brought me? This is not Telthen’s daughter Hesal! This is a woman, not a girl! Don’t you know the difference?”

  Jadoc leaned around to look again at her face. “What? That’s not the girl from the gates. That’s the other…”

  The illusion of Hesal now discarded, Kaja extended her claws, stabbed one set into Osuran’s throat, and the other into his chest, piercing his heart. Her movements were inhumanly quick; whatever powers Argave may have granted him, he had no time to react. As blood gurgled from his neck and pumped out from his heart, he tried to speak.

  “What’s that, Osuran? You weren’t expecting danger from a little girl, were you? Seems appropriate to me.”

  “You…the Twelve,” he managed before his eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped downwards into a heap. She ripped his heart out as he slid down. She put it to her mouth, took a large bite, and swallowed.

  Jadoc grabbed her around the neck with his forearm and squeezed, trying to strangle her. “You will pay for this!” He began yelling for more guards, but then remembered he’d told them all to keep their distance on Osuran’s orders.

  “Done?” she asked.

  “Why won’t you die?” he huffed, straining against her throat.

  “I’m already dead,” she laughed. “I don’t need to breathe.” In a whisper she added, “I’m Marathuk, remember? The Deathbringer is in your temple, little man. She has easily killed your god-kin master.”

  The man’s grasp loosened as her words sunk in. “But…but the gates are warded. How did you get in here?”

  “You invited me in, you fool.”

  She grabbed his forearm, twisted her body to get leverage, and then threw him over her shoulder. He crashed into a small table. A piece of its wood stabbed through his side. Blood pooled to the floor. The sight of it fueled her bloodlust, and Kaja completed her transformation. Jagged wings burst through her dress, her eyes darkened to obsidian orbs, and her face elongated into the beak of a carrion bird. She glanced back at the frozen Domias. She’d already warned him what would happen. She’d told him to remain still no matter what. Good. He was obeying her. She nodded, and he closed his eyes.

  Then sh
e leapt onto Jadoc, ripping his flesh with strong, razor-sharp claws. She shredded his throat to stifle his screams, and then pulled out and devoured his heart.

  Good. Deserved, she thought as she fed. Farik is free.

  Her maraqaze sated, Kaja found and freed the imprisoned Telthen, then walked the two nobleman out through the temple’s main doors. Her borrowed silk clothes were blood-drenched rags, but she didn’t care. The courtyard guards remained oblivious to Osuran’s murder. Many still watched the dark sky for the bird creature’s return; none of them looked toward the temple.

  She, too, looked skyward and let out a silent call to the zeringes. She would let them feed. Osuran’s staunch followers would do no good for the people of Farik. They were complicit in his crimes.

  “Come to me,” she ordered. “Eat. All within and on the courtyard walls are yours except the two with me.”

  The birds descended from all directions. The guards screamed as a mass of darkness overtook the courtyard. The birds flocked to Kaja and the two she protected; they whirled around the trio and then burst outward, one flock for each guard or priest remaining in the temple’s outer complex.

  Rippling, moving darkness swarmed the men, enveloping every inch of their bodies. The avian storm ripped their flesh from them and tore out their eyes. The zeringes then devoured them.

  The birds sent waves of happiness back to their mistress as they fed. Like her, they were children of the Twelve, and they thrilled to death as much as she did. Their joy in slaughter always calmed her; she guessed that was part of their connection to her, a part she inherited from their former master. Their feedings sated her own bloodlust, but, as the Deathbringer, she preferred to slay her own targets.