by Sidney Wood
“You have to admit, it’s a little bit strange that they all mentioned his hat,” said Chase.
Corvis raised his hands in defeat and said, “Okay, I admit it’s weird. From what your brother and Sergeant Hayes said, he had a hideous hat. I still don’t admit that I believe he’s alive. I saw his body Chase. Hell, I watched my men bury him.”
“What about the man who said he saw him heading west one day, looking like a walking corpse, with open wounds on his face and neck? Then two days later, he’s walking east, and all of the wounds are healed to little more than scars.”
“Like I said, it’s weird,” said Corvis. Chase looked disappointed that he didn’t say more.
“Yeah, weird. Well, it’s more than weird to me. It has me thinking about just what the hell we might be up against. If it is the same guy, then this is more than weird or disturbing. It’s evil. Besides, if blood magic is real, how do we fight it?”
Corvis looked around to make sure they weren’t being overheard. In a lowered voice, he said, “Chase…fine. I am thinking the same thing you are, but let’s worry about one problem at a time. First, let’s find this guy. We know for sure he can die.” He chuckled nervously, “Even a girl can kill him, apparently.” He turned serious again, “What we don’t know is how to make him stay dead.”
“Agreed,” said Chase. “Let’s camp here tonight and head east at first light. “In the meantime, I’d like to ask some more questions about what the villagers know about blood magic.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Charity lay perfectly still as Joszette held the knife above her body. She heard her say a few strange words as she gripped the knife blade with her other hand and slid it partially down the blade. Drops of blood ran down the exposed blade and fell from the tip onto Charity’s exposed stomach. Joszette placed the knife on the floor and gently rubbed the drops of blood into Charity’s skin, while repeating the same words at barely more than a whisper. Lynn watched nervously, but said nothing.
“There,” said Joszette. “It is finished. My blood should shield her from any effects brought by the tainted blood of the evil one.”
“Thank you,” said Charity as she got up and straightened out her clothes. She watched as her father took Joszette’s hand and carefully wrapped it in clean linen. She had noticed something different about each of them since this morning. They were closer, despite the anger and mistrust that she had awoken to the day before. It had only been two day since they had met Joszette, but she was already dreading having to leave.
“Charity,” said her dad. “Can I have a few minutes to speak with Ms. Joszette in private?”
“Okay dad, I want to take Cuddles for a walk anyway. We won’t be gone long,” she said with a smile. She winked at Joszette and headed outside. Cuddles followed her, wagging her tail happily.
Lynn watched her and the dog walk through the doorway before turning to Joszette and taking her hands in his. “Joszette, I have a favor to ask. It isn’t easy…” he said looking down.
He felt her hand gently lifting his chin, and he lifted his eyes to meet hers. “Ask,” she said kindly.
They stood outside talking quietly for several more minutes. When they went back inside, Lynn sat down with Charity and had a serious talk.
The next morning, Lynn shouldered his pack and walked away from the cabin. He carried his sword, the axe, and enough supplies and provisions to last him a few days. He didn’t look back as he walked through the trees heading east. Charity was in good hands. “She needs a woman to look after her and to help guide her,” he thought. He began to think of Joszette; her face, her lips… He shook his head and pushed the worry for his daughter and thoughts of the woman aside. He was going to find the Master of Swords, and he was going to find answers.
As evening settled, and Lynn found shelter for the night, he pondered the mind of a soldier. “I wonder if all soldiers, real soldiers anyway, can shut things off the way I do. Why is it that I can love my family to the marrow, but forget them completely when there is soldiering to be done? Even now, Charity is present in my thoughts, but I am not touched by longing or worry.” Soon, he forgot the question and focused once again on the task at hand.
He laid out his bed roll, placing his pack at the head of it and against the trunk of a sheltering tree. He stretched a bit before slipping off his boots and lying down. Some nights in the field he would sleep with his clothes and boots on. On others nights, like tonight, he would accept the risk of not being fully ready if surprised, and he would sleep with his boots off. It wasn’t for comfort that he took his boots off, although it did feel good. It was because skin rotted when trapped within wet clothes or boots, and a soldier is no good without his feet.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Shane led the group out of the city at a trot. Four armed guards surrounded the cart, ensuring no one could come near as they headed east. Guy laid his bags across his lap and one of his hands rested on top. The other gripped the side of the seat he shared with the cart driver. Through the city they rolled, bumping down the cobbled streets, heading for the eastern gate.
Shane eyed the many people they encountered along the way, looking for signs of danger. He searched the alley ways and side streets as he led on, and maintained a lookout for escape routes if the way ahead became blocked. Guy noticed his attentiveness and made a mental note to not underestimate the man.
No trouble found them as they passed the gates and left the city behind them. As per their agreement, Guy was allowed to travel with them as far as he wished, as long as he departed before they reached the Duke’s estate. Duke Dennison stayed behind with two of his men to conclude his business with the King. Shane and his other guards travelled ahead with the riches he had withdrawn from the royal treasury. These were uncertain times, and the Duke was no fool. Keeping all of his money in the capital could prove to be problematic if someone else ascended to the throne and took control of the treasury.
Guy wanted to put as much distance between himself and Curly’s men as possible before separating from this armed escort, so he sat tight. “They’ll take me about two days away from the city, and that’s a pretty good head start,” he thought. He had already traded some of his gold with the guards and Shane for less conspicuous currency, so when he parted ways he wouldn’t immediately become a target.
Guy thought back to the Gift of Hindsight, and shook his head at how fortunate he had been. If he had walked out of his room at the wrong time, or if Hannah had found reason to talk to Curly about the one legged man, he would likely be dead right now. “I will never step foot inside that city again,” he vowed silently. “Someday I will kill Curly, but it won’t be within those walls.” Going back there would be pushing his luck, and Guy did not want to run out of luck. “So far, so good,” he thought.
Shane signaled a halt in a wooded area, only an hour outside of the city. The cart slowed and came to a stop. Guy looked at the driver, who just shrugged.
“He must have to piss,” said Guy.
Shane walked his horse alongside of the cart and said, “Mr. Martin, this is where you get off.”
“Oh no, we can keep going, I don’t have to piss,” said Guy smiling.
Shane leaned over and punched him in the head. “I said get OFF!” He walked his horse back a step and added, “Now!” He made a show of drawing his sword to emphasize the seriousness of the situation.
Holding the side of his head, Guy looked at the four guards, who simply stared at him blankly. “Slap your sister! You can’t even trust the nobles,” thought Guy as he began climbing down. He stepped over the edge of the cart and threw his bags over his shoulder just before hopping to the ground.
“I don’t think so,” said Shane. “Your bags stay on the cart,” and he held his sword point out, almost touching Guy’s neck.
Guy clenched his teeth and stared at the man for a moment.
Then, at last, he sighed in defeat and tossed the bags back into the cart. He raised his hands and began walking backwards toward the back of the cart and away from the pointed sword.
Shane gave a short whistle and the group began moving down the road again. Guy stood fixed at the edge of the road until they were out of sight, and then he dashed…or hobbled quickly into the woods. He didn’t want to be around if the green cloaked man changed his mind and came back to get rid of him completely.
He covered what he considered being a suitable amount of ground and stopped to rest on a fallen log. He unstrapped his wooden leg and removed the pouch of gold coins he had hidden beneath his stump. Then he retrieved the smaller pouch of gold coins he had hidden in his boot. He counted his remaining treasure and let out a relieved chuckle. He still had a fortune. That bastard took a king’s ransom, but he still had enough to live out his life in quiet luxury.
“Why the hell didn’t Curly retire with all of this money? He could have at least built a better house or bought a bigger boat!” Guy pondered that for a while before shaking his head, “Some things just don’t make sense I guess.”
Guy did not like being on foot with men chasing him, but he had to make a move. He replaced the coins after counting them again, and set off to the east this time. Curly would think he continued west so he would go east instead, but not by road. He would stay away from the roads and travel across country until he was far away from the city. “Then I’ll buy a horse, or a cart and horse. Yeah, a cart and horse sounds nice,” he thought as he hobbled along. “I might even hire my own guards,” he thought.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Lynn figured he must be a day, maybe two at most, from the capital. He was moving slower and more cautiously as he approached the city because of all the farms and villages. He began to have more encounters, even off the road in the woods. This morning was no exception.
“Look at ’im Jeffy,” said a gap toothed thug with no hair on the top of his head and too much everywhere else. The hair started just below his eyes and covered every part of his face and neck, disappearing only under his clothes. His puffy lips looked comical surrounded by a thick matting of curly black hair. “Look at ‘im. E’s got ‘isself an axe! Dunno if it is, or if it ain’t, the one we’s ‘opposed to be lookin’ for. Ya think?”
Both men looked at Lynn from under their bushy eyebrows, with their heads tipped slightly forward and their mouths open. Jeffy stood a few paces to the left and behind the hairy one without answering. He shrugged his shoulders slightly, which Handsome couldn’t see because he was watching Lynn. Jeffy’s bottom lip was hanging on to a string of drool that Lynn guessed never quite went away.
“I think it is ‘im Jeffy. Ain’t we the lucky ones today?”
Lynn shrugged his pack off his shoulders and laid the axe against it. He took a moment to stretch a bit, while Handsome was talking, and then he drew his sword.
“Heh, look Jeffy! ‘Es got the idea.” Handsome said grinning wildly.
Jeffy began to chuckle, apparently in support of Handsome’s keen wit. It was one of the stranger things Lynn had ever witnessed because Jeffy’s stupefied expression never changed. He chuckled slack-faced and didn’t move.
“My name’s Lynn. I don’t know you, but it sounds like you know something about me,” said Lynn to Handsome. “Tell me who asked you to look for me and maybe we can clear this up.” Lynn stepped forward and waited for a response. He didn’t really expect these two to choose wisely, but he hoped he might at least get some information.
“Do I look stupid? Jeffy! Does ‘e think we look like the stupid ones?”
Jeffy shrugged again behind Handsome.
“Jeffy and me, we’s going to play a game wit you. You ain’t going to like it. See, ‘e only wants you dead. That means, we gets to play wit you as much as we wants before cuttin’ your stupid head off to show the man in black-n-green.” Handsome began licking his lips grotesquely, and Lynn felt bile rising in his stomach.
Lynn rolled his neck to the left and then to the right. He swung the sword in two wide sweeping arcs, and then let his arms relax and his head roll forward. He inhaled and exhaled. He felt completely calm and at peace. Raising his head, he walked forward to close the distance with the two inbred bastards.
“Watch my back Jeffy,” said Handsome as he started to side step and circle Lynn. Lynn kept walking straight ahead. Handsome made no attempt to close with him yet. When he was only a pace away from Jeffy, Handsome yelled a warning, “Watch it Jeffy! Poke ‘im a good one!”
Jeffy, still looking like a heavily drugged animal, raised his old and rusted sword. He took a somewhat defensive posture and stepped to his own left toward Handsome.
Lynn appreciated that because it meant he could see both of them more easily. “Let’s get this over with.” said Lynn as he leapt to his right, toward and a little ahead of Jeffy. He brought his sword out to his left and swung a wide arc to the right, slicing viciously at Jeffy’s neck.
Jeffy screamed like a young girl as he ducked under the swing faster than Lynn expected, and then stepped in toward Lynn with a thrust to his torso. Planting his right foot, Lynn swept his trailing leg back and to his right, making Jeffy’s thrust miss his stomach by an inch at most.
Handsome laughed and yelled, “We got ‘im Jeffy! It’s my turn!” and there was a grunt at the end of his sentence letting Lynn know he was already swinging a blow at him.
Lynn immediately threw his body forward into a dive roll and out of the way. He felt the blade rush past his head as he moved.
“Okay,” he thought.“These guys are not as slow as they look, but I’ll never live it down if I let these two morons kill me.” Lynn rolled to his feet and spun around in a fighting crouch.
“Uh oh!” taunted Handsome. “Looks like ‘es getting’ mad! Ha ha!”
Lynn ignored the words and waited for them to make their move. He needed to get this over with and get moving, but these idiots were unpredictable, so he stood his ground.
“A’right Jeffy, let’s take ‘im down a notch. Come on!” Handsome rushed forward, thrusting and slicing as he moved. He looked less like a swordsman, and more like a drunken shadow boxer or an awkward dancer. At the same time Jeffy walked toward Lynn from the side, and began swinging his sword like a windmill.
Lynn tried his best not to let the utter craziness distract him. He had a feeling that the “Crazy” is what gave these guys their edge. They simply freaked out the men they fought. When Handsome was almost within striking distance, Jeffy was still a few steps away. Lynn side stepped suddenly, putting Handsome between himself and Jeffy. He was done waiting. Lynn feinted right with a fierce swing toward Handsome’s knees, and then spun left and used his full body to bring a crushing blow around and down onto Handsome’s left shoulder. The hairy man dropped to one knee as his body absorbed the force of the blow, enveloping the blade deep down into his chest cavity. Lynn jerked the blade free with a kick to Handsome’s bearded face, and thrust the body mightily into the flailing windmill that Jeffy was still bringing forward. Jeffy screamed as his sword cut into Handsome’s head. He leapt back and dropped the blade. He stood transfixed on the sight of the gurgling corpse in front of him. He didn't even flinch when the tip of Lynn’s blade cut through his neck and throat, and sent him to meet his companion in the afterlife.
Lynn wiped his sword on Jeffy’s shirt and shook his head at the two men lying on the ground before him. He would have checked other men for papers or some kind of evidence of who they might be working for. With these two that would not only be unpleasant, but pointless as well. Neither of these could read, and anything of value would have been spent already on booze or a desperate whore.
He spit on Handsome’s corpse, gathered his gear and axe, and resumed his march. As he pushed his way through the underbrush, heading deeper into the woods, Lynn resolved to get this over with. “I’m going to know what the hell is going on
, and until I do, I’m going to kill every sick and twisted fool that gets in my way.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Kelly waited for news from the meeting between the Duke and the King. Supposedly the audience had been granted, although Kelly knew as well as anyone, that the King was completely incapable of such a meeting. The high priest was obviously scheming and Kelly couldn’t wait to find out what was happening. The events taking place here in the next days and weeks would shape the course of their country for many years to come.
As he waited in the hall, Kelly caught the eye of the attractive Lady he had rendezvoused with the other night. He gave her a conspiratorial wink, and she smiled in return, albeit a weak smile. “I still have it,” he thought to himself as he stood straighter and puffed out his chest. He looked around the room with a wide grin to see if anyone else was watching the exchanged looks.
Suddenly the doors leading to the Kings private chambers burst open and a very pissed off looking Duke “Hawk” Dennison stormed out. He drove his heels into the marble floor so hard the ladies winced at the sound of every powerful footfall. His face was dark red, in contrast with his white hair, and his fists were clenched in rage. His bodyguards paced after him trying desperately to keep up, but he was a very tall man, and although they were large, they were not as fast. Every few steps they had to pick up the pace beyond a fast walk and run a little. It was all quite amusing to Kelly, although what it might mean for the kingdom, he couldn’t say.
As he walked out of the hall, the Duke stopped and whispered something to one of the Royal Guards. The man nodded and Hawk resumed his fast paced exit. Kelly made a note of which guard the Duke spoke to and turned to see if the priest would be coming out of the King’s chambers as well.
After several long minutes, the high priest emerged from the king’s chambers stone faced and sober. He was followed by a troop of guards as he walked to the throne dais. He stepped up to the throne and turned around, facing the hall. The guards stood in front of the dais, blocking anyone from approaching. All conversations stopped. Everyone was now facing the high priest, waiting for whatever it was he stood ready to say.
