Solomon's Exile

by James Maxstadt

  CHAPTER 56

  Solomon stepped through the waterfall, back into the Greenweald. Justice rode in the scabbard at his side, and the lantern the Guardian had given him was hung opposite. His hand was placed on the sword hilt, ready to draw it should there be any sign of a Soul Gaunt anywhere near. But the woods were quiet and peaceful, the normal sounds of the Greenweald the only thing disturbing the silence.

  It was early afternoon, and he needed to make haste if he was going to get back to the Towering Oaks compound before dark. There was no particular reason to think that the Soul Gaunts would attack on this night, but better safe than sorry. If they didn’t, all the better, and maybe Jediah’s mission would prove to be a success. If not, then he would be there, Justice in hand, ready to do what was needed.

  He walked at a brisk pace through the giant trees, thinking back to his first fight with a Soul Gaunt. The fight that revealed the true nature of Justice to him, and spurred him to leave it with the Guardian. It was hard to put the sword away after that fight, harder than anything he had ever done. At first, when he had come upon the Gaunt, everything seemed normal, or at least as much as it could be when confronting an evil that most thought was only a story.

  His sword against the things claws, cold, and fear. They had almost danced back and forth, weaving among the trees, each looking for an opening. Then, Solomon had scored a hit, and the things robe had split open. A tiny lick of flame appeared along Justice’s edges and Solomon had felt an unexpected glee flow through him.

  Soul Gaunts! What were they? Nothing compared to him!

  Solomon had always been confident and sure of his abilities. But he had never been arrogant, never thought that he was unbeatable, or better than anyone else. The gifts he had were just that. Gifts. They would fade with time if not used, and there was always someone or something out there with more of them.

  But after he had hit the Soul Gaunt, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he would come out of this fight victorious. He stepped in and slashed the thing again, this time a powerful hit, starting at its shoulder and running down in a diagonal slash across its torso. It screamed, and Solomon laughed. He expected it to flee, and was preparing to chase it, but it did no such thing. Instead, it came on stronger, hissing and whirling almost too fast for him to follow.

  But the end was a foregone conclusion. Solomon stood his ground and brilliant, white flames shot up from Justice, the heat intense. He lunged forward, the sword point catching the Gaunt solidly in the middle of the blackness beneath its hood, and it erupted into flame.

  The Soul Gaunt screamed, cursed, and flailed but to no avail. The white fire ate at it, devouring the robe and then the white corpse-like being beneath. Solomon watched it in fascination, a smile on his face. Let it burn! That’s what happened to those who would challenge him.

  When the flames finally died down, there was no sign of the Soul Gaunt, and no burnt spot on the forest floor showing where it had died. Solomon felt a great weariness come over him, but the heat and exhilaration of the battle still roared through his veins. He looked around to see if there was another nearby. Another victim for his rage.

  There wasn’t, so he lifted the sword to return it to its scabbard. But he felt reluctant to do so. He wanted to keep it out, admire the way the flames danced along its edges, even though he was so tired that he could barely hold it up. Maybe he could keep it out, return to the Towering Oaks compound with it, and if anyone commented on it, he would show them what the sword could do. Strike them down, let everyone know who was in charge.

  Solomon was horrified by his thoughts. He looked down at Justice and knew the sword was influencing his emotions. Jediah had warned him that it came with its own hazards, and now Solomon knew what those were.

  He concentrated, ignored the feelings of invincibility and arrogance. The sword weighed a hundred pounds, maybe two. But he got the point into the scabbard, and with a grunt, drove it home, the flames flickering out as he did. He panted, swayed and then sat down heavily against a tree. He stayed there for a long time before heading back to Towering Oaks. When he did, he had already made the decision to give the sword into the Guardian’s keeping.

  He was so lost in the memory of that day that he almost didn’t hear the barking.

  “Daisy?”

  The Hound came bursting through the trees, running full bore toward Solomon, barking for all she was worth.

  “Daisy!” He dropped to one knee and hugged the massive dog’s head. She licked his face and pushed into him for a moment, but then wriggled free, stepped back and barked at him again.

  “Okay, okay, I’m glad to see you too. Where’s Lacy and Luke? They must be with you.” He looked in the direction that Daisy had come from, but there was no sign of the two humans, or anyone else for that matter. He frowned as he looked back at the dog.

  “Where are Lacy and Luke? Are they with you?” But even as he asked, he knew the answer. “Damn.” If Daisy wasn’t with them, something must have happened. She wouldn’t have left them otherwise. And if something had happened to them, there was a good chance that other things were happening, and Towering Oaks could be in grave danger.

  He hesitated, unsure of what to do. To go to Towering Oaks meant that he was abandoning the two humans that he had brought here. But to go to them meant that he was letting his own House face a grave danger without him. Unless they were at Towering Oaks, but he didn’t believe that. So, was it go help his people or go try to rescue Lacy and Luke? Really, there was no choice.

  “Go ahead,” he said to Daisy, “I’m right behind you.”

  By the time the Hound had led him to Rustling Elms the sun was beginning to go down. Long before they reached the ruined compound though, Solomon knew where they were going. He had spent the last couple of hours of their journey trying to tamp down the fear that he would be too late. That they were already dead, or had already been horribly tortured.

  He arrived in time to see the doors to the main tree flung open and a tall man step out, looking very much like one of the Folk in a black robe. Solomon ducked behind a trunk as a horrible sound began to come from the tree. It was an eerie, disturbing sound. He shook his head and grimaced, and Daisy whined and pressed her head against his legs.

  The black-robed man walked away, looking for all the world like someone out enjoying an afternoon stroll. But Soul Gaunts followed him. They poured from the wounded tree, spreading out and flowing along the ground, that horrible sound coming from within their hoods. There were scores of them, and they all moved with a single-minded purpose.

  Solomon felt the sword at his side pushing at his thoughts. You could end it all right here, right now, it seemed to be saying. He could see himself, freeing Justice and striding forth, striking down any Soul Gaunt who dared to come within its reach. Hunting down those cowardly enough to flee. It was so strong that he had to stop his hand from grasping the hilt.

  But he held on, ignoring the urges and watched as they all disappeared into the forest, their evil song slowly fading.

  Telling Daisy to stay, he left his hiding place and crept toward the Rustling Elms tree, watchful for any Soul Gaunts that had been left behind as guards. There was no movement, no sounds, until the doors suddenly swung shut with a crash. He froze, waiting for something else to happen, but nothing did.

  Not until he heard the scream from inside. One that sounded very much like it might have come from Lacy.

  He charged up the stairs, any attempt at stealth forgotten. Drawing Justice, he gave himself over to the feelings that the sword inspired. Nothing would stand in his way. One blow from the sword was all that was needed to burst the doors open, slamming them into the walls behind with a deafening boom.

  The light from Justice flared into the entry hall, showing five Soul Gaunts, two around Willow, who was prone on the floor, two dragging an unresisting Luke away, and one, its claw squeezing Lacy’s shoulder as she pitched forward.

  He saw it all in an instant as he stalked int
o the hall. The Soul Gaunts screamed when the light from Justice fell on them, a sound of terror and dismay. It made Solomon smile, even as he tried to guard against the unnatural confidence he was feeling.

  The ones around Willow were the first to die. The first swing of the sword caught the one nearest to Solomon in the back. The force of the blow flung it away from the Healer and he followed it, the next swing taking the things head off. White fire flew from Justice as he swung it, igniting the Soul Gaunt’s cloak.

  He felt a brief tug at his belt, but didn’t have time to look as he turned to the next one. It was hunched over Willow, its claws at her neck, hissing at him.

  Solomon moved faster than he ever thought he was capable of. He lunged and his swords point went through the Soul Gaunt’s hood, as it had in that other fight all those years ago. This one didn’t even have time to scream before its hood burst into flames. He kicked it away from Willow as he felt that same tug.

  This time, he saw what it was. When Justice ignited the things robe, a small tongue of fire curled back, reaching to the lantern hung at his side. He put his hand down near it, but it showed no sign of being affected by the flame.

  There was no time to think about it though. He turned to Lacy. The Soul Gaunt that had been grasping her shoulder was speeding toward him, trying to take him by surprise. It failed miserably.

  He swatted it aside almost casually with a back-hand blow. It screamed as it crashed into the wall, the flames beginning to devour its cloak and adding to the illumination in the entry hall. He could see the two still dragging Luke up the stairs, blood running down his arms from their claws. The sight filled him with a red rage.

  He ran, cursing them as he neared. They dropped Luke, letting him tumble down the steps. Solomon leapt over him, increasing his speed. He caught them before they made it to the second floor, and cut them down from behind with two swings of the sword. Two more tugs from the lantern.

  The whole battle had taken only seconds. Solomon turned, scanning the area below him for another enemy. Someone else to feel the fire of Justice. There was no one. But there could be in the rest of tree. He would hunt them down, ferret them out of hiding and slay them without mercy.

  His friends were lying in the entry hall like so many broken dolls. Luke was crumpled at the foot of the stairs where he had fallen. Both Lacy and Willow were sprawled on the floor, unconscious. Those responsible would pay. He’d find all of them…

  He concentrated, keeping them all in his vision, refusing to look away to anything else. They needed help. He needed to stop what he was doing and go to them.

  But there could be others here. Others who needed to pay.

  Stop! He commanded himself with every bit of his considerable willpower. He slammed Justice home into its sheath and collapsed on the stairs, his legs and arms suddenly feeling like lead.

  With a groan he got to his feet and slowly made his way down the stairs. He made sure that Luke was still breathing, and moved him from the awkward pose that he was in to one that would be more comfortable. The man moaned as he did, his eyes fluttering, but he stayed unconscious.

  He checked Lacy next, but she was already starting to come around when he got to her, her hand moving to rub her shoulder. Willow stirred also as he squatted near them.

  “Jediah,” Willow whispered.

  “What?” Solomon leaned closer to her. “I couldn’t hear you.”

  “Jediah,” she repeated. “He’s here, somewhere. I don’t know where.”

  Solomon helped her sit up, his eyes scanning the stairway ascending into the darkness.

  “Go,” Willow said. “Find him. I'm alright, and I'll stay with them.”

  Solomon wasn’t so sure. He saw the bruises at her temples, but she seemed to be fine. Still, he had seen what that could do when Ed had been grabbed like that.

  "Solomon,” she was looking at him, her eyes still a little fuzzy, but clearing. “I’m fine. They didn’t have as much power over me. Go find Jediah.”

  He stood, wondering if his Head of House was still even alive. When he hesitated, Willow made an annoyed shooing gesture with her hand and moved over to Lacy. With a last look, he ran to the stairs and up into the darkness.

  Pausing halfway, he removed the lantern and held it in front of him. There was no sign of the fire that had flowed from his sword to it. No spark or glow came from behind the glass lens, and now that he looked at it more carefully, he didn’t even see a way to open the thing. He had no idea what good it was, but the Guardian didn’t give out things randomly. He would have to figure it out later on.

  He was loath to take Justice out of its sheath again, but he needed light. Plus, he was incredibly tired, and even though he would pay for it later, the sword would help him keep going. The white flames that flickered along the blade lit up the hallway that he walked along, revealing all the damage and decay that the Soul Gaunts had done.

  This was once a noble House. Not one of the great ones, no, but they had been honorable men and women, who had been simply living their lives. They didn’t deserve what had happened to them, but the Soul Gaunts and the man who led them, would get their comeuppance.

  Room after room opened to the same things. Rotted furniture, ruined walls and floors and the occasional cadaver.

  Finally, he found Florian, or what was left of him. He bowed his head, his sorrow penetrating even the fury being fed by the sword, and said a prayer over the fallen Lord. He was even sorrier that Florian had died not knowing that Celia still lived.

  His limbs felt heavy as he moved from that room to the next, where he finally found Jediah.

  His Head of House was still alive, but looked to be barely so. He was covered in blood, his breathing shallow and erratic.

  “Jediah,” Solomon said, kneeling next to him. “Jediah, can you hear me? It’s over.”

  Jediah stirred, one swollen eye opening. “I heard what they did to Florian,” he whispered. “I hope you killed them all.”

  “I killed a few. The rest have gone away. Can you walk?”

  Jediah didn’t bother with an answer. Slowly he put his hands beneath him and pushed himself up, first to all fours and then to a kneeling position. He stopped there, breathing heavily. Solomon put out a hand to help steady him.

  When he was ready, Solomon helped him to his feet. The two of them slowly made their way from the room, Jediah’s arm around Solomon’s neck. For his part, Solomon supported his Lord with one arm, while the other held Justice to light the way.

  It took considerably longer to find their way back to the entry hall. They stopped a few times for both of them to rest. Despite the sword's power, Solomon was spent, and was supporting Jediah from sheer willpower alone.

  The stairs were the worst part. He put Justice away, feeling little resistance this time, as if the sword sensed that his energy reserves were at an end, and navigated the steps in the dark by touch. The doors still stood open, but night had fallen and they opened only to a slightly brighter patch of darkness. He couldn’t see any sign of Willow, Luke or Lacy, but assumed they had left the tree to wait outside.

  Finally, they made it down, and shuffled across the entry hall, and out the doors, breathing in the clean night air. Solomon let Jediah sink down and slumped next to him, still on the steps leading from the ground to the doorway in the tree.

  His eyes closed, and he could feel sleep coming, whether he wanted it to or not.

  “He’s got Willow!” The voice seemed to come from far away. Like it was at the end of a tunnel.

  Someone shook him, hard. His eyes opened, and through blurred vision he saw Lacy, shaking him by the shoulders.

  “Solomon! Wake up! He’s got Willow!”

  “Who?” he muttered, trying to understand what Lacy was saying.

  “Thaddeus! He came out of nowhere and threw some spell or something on her. She fell asleep and he took her. I had Luke and couldn’t get to her in time.”

  Solomon smiled at that. What good would that have don
e? Lacy was no match for a mage like Thaddeus. She wouldn’t have been able to rescue the Healer.

  “Solomon!” There was a sharp, stinging slap on his cheek and his eyes snapped open.

  What Lacy had been saying suddenly registered and he climbed to his feet. He had to stop for a moment to shake off the dizziness that the sudden move caused, but he was beginning to be able to focus.

  “Where?”

  “Inside. He took her through a door behind the stairs.”

  “Stay here,” he said. “Look after Jediah.”

  His hand on Justice’s hilt, Solomon strode back into the Rustling Elms tree.

  CHAPTER 57

  It was unbelievable. Soul Gaunts should not, could not, be destroyed by a simple swipe of a sword, magic or not. Thaddeus wasn’t the most accomplished mage in the Greenweald, but he knew enough. Soul Gaunts were much stronger than that. He knew it intimately, you only had to look as his maimed hand to recognize that.

  But Solomon waded through the five that were playing with his friends like they were nothing more than bothersome insects. That sword was unstoppable, to say nothing of the lantern that he carried as well. Solomon obviously didn’t have any idea what it was, but its power radiated to Thaddeus like the sun itself had come into the tree. And every time Solomon casually killed a Soul Gaunt, it got stronger.

  Not that he knew exactly what it was or did either, but at least he knew it was something to be feared. As was Solomon himself. When the last Soul Gaunt had been killed, Thaddeus had watched from his hidden vantage point on the second floor as the man had wrestled with himself, had seen the monumental effort he had made to put the sword away. And it hadn’t escaped his notice that Solomon had succeeded. The man was truly amazing, and now Thaddeus fully understood why the Advocate had been so afraid of him.

  He had been left here to watch Willow and the humans, to make sure that not only did they not escape, but to ensure that the Soul Gaunts didn’t harm them too badly. At least the two women, Luke they could have. He was still not sure of his new role, or of his authority over the Gaunts, but they did listen when he had told them to leave Lacy alone earlier.