The Gaellean Prophecy Series Box Set

by C S Vass

  “This is absurd,” Godwin said, turning to Yaura. “They have to be lying.”

  “How did you hear that description of the rusalka?” Yaura asked.

  Altwen looked deeply uncomfortable. “Well, lady, I saw it myself.”

  “You saw the demon yourself?” Yaura asked, incredulous. “And you’re still alive to talk about it? And by the way, that’s master Shigata to you. At least as long as you keep referring to Godwin that way.”

  “Yes la—master Shigata. And thanks be to the gods, I am.”

  “How is it possible that you’re not at the bottom of a river?”

  “I have no idea. I set out to kill the beast after it did my friend in. I took a pitchfork and a torch. It was waiting for me, all beautiful. And when I got closer it transformed into something hideous. My courage failed me, and I fled all the way back to the village.”

  A clap of thunder settled a silence upon them. Yaura looked between the two brothers uncertainly.

  “That’s it,” Godwin said at last. “I’ll give you both one last chance. There’s nothing that you’re hiding from us? There’s not one last thing you’d like to tell us?”

  “Honest master, we’ve told you everything that we know.”

  “You’ve left out nothing by mistake? You didn’t accidentally embellish your story with some little detail that wasn’t quite accurate? Now’s the time to tell us.”

  “You’ve got to believe us. We told you everything.”

  “Very well,” Godwin said. “Leave us for now. You’ll have our answer in the morning, after we’ve talked it over. I trust we can make ourselves comfortable here?”

  “Yes, anything you like!”

  “Take whatever you want from the house.”

  “Just please don’t abandon us. We’re goners without you for sure.”

  “Alright, enough,” Godwin said. “Out.”

  Bowing repeatedly, the two brothers got up and stepped outside into the storm that had rolled in. Rain drops sounded against the windows of the house like pins being constantly dropped on a hardwood floor.

  “I think that soup made me sick,” Godwin muttered as he took another gulp of beer.

  “Well, are we going to talk about this?” Yaura asked as Godwin put his boots up on the table and leaned back.

  “Talk about what?”

  “The contract.”

  “Contract? I didn’t hear terms for a contract. I don’t remember being told a sum to be paid in full upon completion. And I don’t even see the need for a Shigata here. There’s no rusalka. Just a murderous group of backwoods imbeciles that probably got drunk, slaughtered two girls brutally, and don’t even remember it.”

  Yaura huffed. Her hands were on her hips. “So that’s your explanation for why they were speaking so honestly? I figured you’d have one.”

  Godwin looked at her with disbelief. This was not the reaction he had expected. “What do you want me to make of this? They claim a rusalka drowned the girls. That they saw her. That description could have been taken out of any book of fairy tales. If the girls were drowned by a rusalka, we would not have the bodies back. And rusalkas don’t go digging around in the innards of their victims. They drag them down to the bottom of a river and let them slowly rot.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that those peasants are scared shitless.”

  “They should be. There’s a murderer among them.”

  “Godwin, we ate their food. We should at least make some kind of honest attempt to get to the bottom of this.”

  “Why? If I might remind you, we’re on a mission to get to the Sages. We’re supposed to learn about why they set me after Kanjo. There’s likely something seriously wrong at Unduyo. Do you really want to abandon that to get distracted by this nonsense?”

  “Gods, you are so difficult sometimes! We’re Shigata! Our reputation in the world is turning to shit because people don’t believe we’re interested in killing demons anymore. If the opportunity comes up, we should at least take it seriously.”

  “Yaura, we’re Shigata. People will always hate us no matter what we do. Or have you forgotten?”

  “Just because people will always hate you doesn’t mean they’ll hate all of us!”

  Yaura was breathing very hard. There was a wild look in her eyes. She brushed her hair out of her face, but didn’t break eye contact with Godwin.

  He laughed. It was a cruel, choking sound. “If you’re done hurting my feelings, then can we get on with this? I thought we were having a discussion about what we should do based off of logic. But if you’re just going to get emotional about it, then fine, Let’s go off into the woods and look for a demon that’s not there.”

  Yaura grew very still. Godwin knew he went a little too far, but as far as he was concerned she had started it. Robert was watching silently from his chair, hardly daring to breath.

  She strode towards him and leaned in close to his face. He thought he was about to get told off. That she would say the meanest thing she could thing of to him. He actually felt a small pang of regret, but she had provoked him, hadn’t she?

  “Fine,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll be on our way tomorrow. No adventures in the woods and no looking for demons.”

  He nodded. “Good,” he said. “We already are on a mission. There’s no time for side quests.”

  “Then we better get some sleep,” she said. “We’ll have a long journey tomorrow, and it’s going to start with what’s sure to be a passionate argument with the locals. Oh, and Godwin?”

  “Hm?”

  She punched him hard in the face.

  Godwin slept poorly that night, and not just because his nose throbbed with every breath he took. He had tried to see if Yaura had given him a black eye, but every mirror and bit of glass in the house was so dirty that even after dusting them off he was still unable to see anything but yellow sludge.

  They had gone to bed silently. Robert quickly got up and left the two of them, and Yaura strode off immediately after that. They each had their own bedroom. Well, Yaura and Robert each had their own bedroom. Godwin had tried to locate a mattress for himself, but unable to find one he had to settle for a spot of bare floor in the parlor. He considered bunching up some of the dead woman’s clothes and using them as a pillow, but decided that in a strange village he was more comfortable propping himself up against a bookshelf with his sword leaning next to him.

  He phased in and out of sleep. His dreams were mere feelings without form. A deep anxiety. Overwhelming pressure. Guilt. A dog barked in the distance. Shortly after, a blast of lightning set the sky on fire for half a heartbeat. The sound of falling rain grew louder.

  Sometime after midnight, he gave up on sleep altogether and contented himself to wait out the night listening to the showers in his corner of the parlor. A meditative wait was better than no sleep at all. It wasn’t long until he again almost lost consciousness.

  A sudden motion brought him to attention. A single out of place shadow. It crept slowly towards him.

  Godwin’s heart beat no faster, but that didn’t mean the Shigata was immune from the adrenaline that quickened his senses. He wrapped his fingers around his sword and silently brought it towards him.

  The figure kept coming. It was the same height as a man, but there was a foul odor coming from it. Godwin loosened the blade in its sheath and prepared himself. He knew his first strike would have to count.

  He leapt.

  A high-pitched scream filled the room. Godwin had pinned the intruder against the wall and had his sword half drawn so that the blade was pressed up against their throat.

  “For fuck’s sake, what are you doing?”

  “Robert?”

  “Yes! Get off of me!”

  Cursing, Godwin lowered his blade and went fumbling about the room for a light. A candle banished the darkness. Robert was staring at him wide-eyed.

&nbs
p; “You arsehole, what are you doing?” he demanded.

  “Me? Why are you creeping down here like a phantom?”

  Robert’s forehead wrinkled. “I think we should go.”

  “What?”

  “I think we should leave this place.”

  “We are leaving this place.”

  “No. I think we should go right now.”

  “Right now?” Godwin shook his head. “There’s a storm you damned idiot. We’ll be lost immediately.”

  “We can shelter somewhere in the woods.”

  “We’ll be soaked.”

  “So what? We have cloaks. We can get dry later.”

  Godwin moved towards the couch and sat down. “What’s the matter with you? It’ll be dawn before you know it. And why do you smell so terrible?”

  “It’s the damn bed. I think the old woman might have died in it, and nobody bothered to clean the sheets. But listen to me. Godwin, this place isn’t right.”

  “I know it’s not. These villagers are lying bastards and probably murderers too. But you’re with two capable Shigata. There’s nothing to be concerned about.”

  “There are spirits in the house. I can feel them.”

  “So can I. What of it? A woman died here. What do you expect? We’ll have a night of bad dreams and be on our way. I’ll take that over getting soaked to the bone and catching shaking sickness by tomorrow evening.”

  “Damnit!” Robert paced for a moment and then went over to the keg of beer the brothers had brought up for them. “Do you want one?” he asked as he poured himself a cup.

  “No,” Godwin said flatly.

  Robert took a long gulp. “You damned Shigata. I thought I’d be safer traveling with you but you attract trouble like a stray dog attracts fleas and then don’t even have the good sense to run away from it when it rears its head.”

  “What the hell are you two doing?” Yaura stomped downstairs, scowling. Her hair was pulled into a black ponytail and she was wearing one of the dead woman’s robes.

  “Just a midnight chat,” Robert said.

  “He wants to leave,” Godwin said accusingly.

  “What? We are leaving.”

  Robert swallowed. “We should leave now.”

  “Is this about the old woman’s spirit? It’s barely even connected to this realm anymore. She won’t do you any harm.”

  “It’s not about—”

  A blast of lightning cut him off, crashing throughout the room.

  “Shit that was close,” Robert said.

  “Stop jumping at shadows,” Yaura said. “You’re acting ridiculous. You’re a man. You’re with two Shigata. Godwin, tell him.”

  Godwin wasn’t paying attention. He was considering something that had just occurred to him. Robert had been a capable traveling companion across a good stretch of the Chillway. What’s more, he had travelled with the Kirishelliwan for years. Was it foolish to ignore his warnings?

  Yaura crossed her arms. “Godwin, I am not going out into this storm, and that’s that.”

  “Hold on just a minute,” Godwin said. “Let me think.”

  “Think! What’s there to think about? I heard you two when I was upstairs. You were totally against it then. Did you change your mind because I’m here, and you can’t bear the thought of being on the same side of an argument as me? That’s just typical of you.”

  Godwin paid her no mind. He thought he had heard something outside, and after investigating the window he realized to his horror that he was right.

  Rushing to the other side of the house he checked the opposite direction. He gasped.

  “What is it?” Robert asked.

  There were a dozen candles on each side, slowly drifting towards the house. Each one illuminated the grim, haunted face of one of the villagers.

  “Yaura grab your weapon.”

  To his relief she didn’t stop to ask any questions. In an instant she was sprinting up the stairs.

  “What’s going on?” Robert asked.

  “The village is coming.”

  Robert opened his mouth to ask a follow-up question but Godwin interrupted him. “Shut up and listen. I’m not going to sit here and butcher a bunch of peasants like pigs. Nor do I think we’d be able to take on all of them anyway. We’re going to cut through them and make a run for it. Stay behind us.”

  “Cut through them?” Yaura asked. She was back with her sword. While she didn’t take the time to completely change, she had quickly strapped on her padded leather jerkin over the dead woman’s robes. “We can’t just kill them without asking questions. They haven’t done anything to us.”

  Godwin bit his tongue to stifle the angry comment that almost burst from his lips. After a brief pause he said, “Yaura, what the hell do you think they’re showing up by the dozens in a storm after midnight for? Do you really want to find out?”

  Yaura looked uncertain.

  “Gods we’re going to be flayed alive,” Robert whined. “I know what happens in these unruled villages in the West. I’ve heard the stories. People go mad. Lock visitors in basements. Hang them by their thumbs and see how loud they can make them scream. Shane once told me—”

  “Shut up you idiot!” Godwin growled.

  “I was just—”

  There was a knock at the door.

  The air seemed to get sucked right out of the room.

  “What do we do?” Robert asked in a panicked voice.

  “Follow my lead,” Godwin said, not entirely sure what he was doing. “If I start swinging my sword, make a run for it.”

  “Godwin, wait!” Yaura shouted.

  He approached the door and turned the knob.

  Three dozen villagers with candles in their hands stared at him. None of them appeared to be armed. They wore sopping wet cloaks that clung to their bodies. The look upon their faces was uniform. To Godwin’s shock, it was one of reverence.

  A woman with frightened eyes approached him.

  “Yes?” he said, uncertainly.

  The woman bowed, and kissed his boot. “Blessings to the demon-slayers,” she said. She placed a candle at the front door. Without another word, she stood up, and returned to the crowd.

  Godwin was so stunned that he couldn’t even collect himself in time to tell the next person that approached not to kiss his boot. They behaved the same as the first woman. Then another came.

  “Don’t do that,” Godwin said, this time to an old man. The man paid him no mind. He stooped low, trembling all the while, kissed Godwin’s boot, said the words, and left a candle.

  “What is going on?” Yaura asked as she appeared next to him.

  A little girl approached. The only difference was this time she kissed both of their feet, but left a candle the same as all the rest.

  “Gods above,” Robert said as he poked his head out of the door. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  The rain continued to pour, but they protected their candle flames until they were safely under the overhang that guarded the porch.

  “Blessing to the demon-slayers.” A young man.

  “Blessing to the demon-slayers.” A mother with an infant in her arms.

  “Blessing to the demon-slayers.” A grandfather with a long beard.

  Ignoring the pleas from Godwin and Yaura, they came and came until every single one of them had placed a candle at their feet.

  At last it was over. The wind continued to howl and the whole village was thoroughly soaked.

  “Yaura,” Godwin said to her. “This…this is wrong.”

  “Wrong?” she asked. “I think the word that you’re looking for is bizarre.”

  “These people think that we’re something that we’re not. They’re praying to us. Leaving blessings at our doorstep. Like we’re gods.”

  “Then let’s put an end to it.” Yaura cleared her throat. “Thank you all. Um…the candles are lovely. We are going to get a night’s rest now and we can talk about all of this in the morning.”

  The village
rs stood where they were, rainwater glistening on their shivering bodies.

  “Er…it’s very cold and wet,” Yaura continued. “You had all best go home. I wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

  “Do you have any more beer?” Robert shouted at the crowd from behind her. “Our keg is nearly tapped.”

  Yaura looked at him like she was about to bite his head off. Luckily for Robert, someone approached the porch once more. It was an old woman whose face resembled a shriveled fruit.

  “You should tell your people to go home, Grandmother,” Godwin said respectfully. “There’s nothing left for them to do here but catch a sickness.”

  “Will you do it?” she croaked.

  “What?”

  “Will you kill the rusalka?”

  “We can talk about the details in the mo—”

  “If you don’t kill the demon, you are looking at a sea of corpses.”

  Godwin took a step backwards without realizing it. The woman’s voice was like a rusty knife scraping against a shield.

  “Listen,” Yaura said with a sigh. “It is possible that you might be…confused about what’s happening here. The signs don’t point—”

  “Evil has come to this village,” the old woman said. “Are you such false whores as to take our hospitality and refuse to help us?”

  “What?” Godwin stumbled about for something to say. “Listen—”

  “Go home!” the woman shouted the words without so much as glancing back. Immediately the villagers dispersed like still water disrupted by a stone. “I am old.”

  The group waited for her to say something else. Eventually Godwin gave up. “Yes, well—”

  “I am old,” the old woman repeated. “Yet I do not pretend to understand the movements of every tree branch in this forest. There is evil. You must find out why. I will pay you handsomely.”

  “Look—”

  This time it was Yaura who interrupted him. “That’s what I was waiting to hear. So let’s talk about payment. How many gold pieces are the end of your problems worth?”

  “No gold,” the woman said. She smiled a buttery smile. “Bagiennik oil.”

  “What? I don’t care about some oil,” Yaura said.

  But the old woman’s smile grew wider. She had seen Godwin’s face.