by Sidney Wood
Lynn felt his knife make purchase and a surge of power and satisfaction rushed through him as he cut his enemy deeply. He kept twisting and shoving it in at angles, rather than pulling it out to stab again. He couldn’t risk missing again so he tried to tear as big a hole as possible wherever he had stuck him.
Death reeled back with wide eyes. He held a bloody hand to a gaping hole in the side of his neck. He stumbled backward for several steps and then disappeared into the trees.
Lynn collapsed back on the forest floor and the world started to spin. “Oh crap,” he thought. “This can’t be good…damn.”
He faintly heard the Sergeant Major calling out to him, “Colonel!” he heard in the far distance. “I need help over here!” he heard from even farther away. That was strange because it looked like the Sergeant Major was standing over him right now. Then the world slipped away completely and everything went black.
Chapter Seventy-Two
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Joszette felt uneasy in the castle. The last time she was here she was young, vibrant, and in love. Thinking back on it, those days were like a dream. She practically floated down the halls, she was so happy. How naïve she had been about the world and the evil that lived in it, and thrived. Her return was anything but happy.
These were dark days, and she suffered many hardships. Most terrifying was that she no longer knew who or even what she was. There was something dark and terrible living inside of her, and she feared that she had no control over it. “What will happen the next time I black out…and to whom?” she fretted. She was afraid to be alone with Charity for that very reason. “What if I hurt her in some way? I could never forgive myself if I ever harmed that sweet girl.” She was certain that Lynn would never forgive her either.
That was why she was walking now. She hoped to pass through the halls unnoticed and slip out into the expansive gardens. She could get lost out there for hours and forget about her worries.
Joszette wore a clean dress, generously provided by one of the ladies at court. She had taken a long and luxurious bath before adorning herself with the borrowed clothes, and her skin and hair felt truly clean for the first time in many weeks. “If only I felt clean on the inside,” she thought.
She stepped out of the archway and into the sunshine to enter the garden. Suddenly, the darkness and fear left her thoughts, and she felt as if she could breathe again. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, lifting into a beautiful smile, and she closed her eyes and tilted her face up to embrace the comforting warmth from the sun. She soaked it in for a long moment, and then continued farther into the garden.
Her hair was still damp when she left her room, and so she left it down, rather than pinning it up like the other ladies at court. Within a few minutes of walking through the sunshine and fresh air, her hair had found its natural curl and body. It flowed sensually around her shoulders and gracefully down her back. So much had changed since she was last here and she had to admit; the garden was even more beautiful than she remembered.
As she passed through a latticed arch, thick with vines and budding flowers, she came to a familiar fountain and her heart nearly broke. Feelings from long ago, came flooding back to her. Memories of her youth and those she had loved and lost refused to stay hidden. They leapt to the forefront of her mind. She sat on the edge of the fountain and wept quietly for her many losses.
Unexpectedly, her sadness turned to intense anger. The injustice of it all boiled over inside her as she sat among the remnants of her stolen life. Joszette clenched her fists and fought to hang on to her sanity. Her body trembled and she stared ahead though a filter of deep crimson. She closed her eyes and turned her face toward the sun, hoping the warmth and light would bring peace to the darkness inside her.
High above her in a window overlooking the garden stood the Priest King, Percival Oglefurth. “Who is that down in the garden?” he asked his advisor.
Stepping to the window and peering down, the cleric answered, “I believe that is Lord Burnside your Highness.”
“Not over there, you idiot!” he clucked in frustration. “Who is the WOMAN sitting at the fountain?”
“Oh, well let me see here,” said his advisor. He stepped forward again and pushed his glasses higher on his nose. “Oh, the lovely lady at the fountain…I see now,” he said and looked at the King with a coy smile. Turning back to the window he said “That beauty is none other than Joszette DeLuc, your Majesty. She arrived with Colonel Hayes’ daughter yesterday, and I’ve been told that many years ago she was a lady of the court. She is a widow, I believe.”
“DeLuc,” said the King, as if saying the name gave him a taste of the woman it belonged to. “Invite the Lady Deluc to have dinner with me tonight. I would like to get to know her better,” said the King as he continued to stare down at her from the window.
An afternoon in the garden, was exactly what she needed. Her anger and sadness were overpowered by warm soothing rays from the sun, and the beauty of the expansive outdoor retreat. Joszette felt rejuvenated as she returned to the room she shared with Charity.
Outside in the hall, she smiled warmly at the young blond Corporal who was still diligently guarding the Colonel’s daughter. He stepped aside to let her enter.
“Joszette!” said Charity. “Where have you been all day! I’ve missed you,” she said with a smile. “Oh! A message came for you. It’s on the table. Is it important? Is it from my father?”
“So many questions,” Joszette said with a smile as she walked to the table. Without opening it, she said, “No, it isn’t from your father. This has the King’s seal.” She wondered at that as she began to open it, “Why would the King send a message to me?”
She studied the message for a moment and then, looking quite surprised, she turned to Charity and said, “You’ll need to wear a dress my dear. We’ve been invited to dine with the King!”
Charity’s jaw dropped and she stood stunned for a moment. “Really? REALLY? Oh WOW!” she exclaimed. She squealed in delight and ran across the room, throwing herself onto the bed. Suddenly she jumped back up, “Joszette!” she shouted. “What will I wear?”
Joszette laughed at her antics and assured her that they would find her a fine dress before dinner. She suggested that Charity take a bath while she searched for a dress, and then she excused herself from the room again. Stepping out into the hallway she spoke to Corporal Nash. “Corporal, Miss Charity and I will be dining with his Majesty this evening. You will, of course, accompany the Colonel’s daughter. I’ll notify the Sergeant of the Guard that you’ll need to be relieved so that you can get cleaned up.”
The Corporal tried to keep a straight face as he nodded in acknowledgement, but a smile managed to betray his façade of stern military bearing.
Joszette smiled in amusement and gave him a friendly wink. She closed the door behind her and continued down the hall to find Charity a dress.
Chapter Seventy-Three
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Guards standing watch atop the city walls were the first to spot the King’s Royal Guards riding under the Axe Battalion colors. Trumpets sounded and the news spread quickly throughout the city. People crowded the streets to catch a glimpse of the famed champion who would deliver them from the unholy alliance between the traitor Duke Dennison and the terrifying Rebel army. The spectacle was grand by any measure, and a company of riders in finest parade dress rode out of the gates to meet the battalion.
As the battalion drew closer, a great crowd of people gathered outside of the gates cheered. The riders at the head of the columns did not slow down and shouted angrily at the citizens to move. Some were knocked down by the powerful warhorses as they forced their way through the crowd and into the city.
The company of riders in dress uniform had intended to lead the procession through the city, but they were also ushered aside by the rough and dirty soldiers of the Axe Battalion. As the soldiers pushed farther
into the city, the people witnessed a heavily guarded wagon containing a blood soaked warrior, and realized that their hero was grievously injured. Some said he was dead. Gasps could be heard, and even shrieks and screams of despair. Word of his broken body and rumors of his death spread with equal speed.
“Where will he be buried?” shouted a weeping woman as the battalion galloped up the street toward the castle.
“He’s not dead you idiot!” shouted the Sergeant Major in a gruff voice. “Why the hell would we be in such a hurry if he was dead?”
Chase pressed his lips together and kept his tongue. No one understood just how serious this situation was. Only a handful of people alive knew the true identity of the man lying in the cart. If the people knew, their cries would be even louder and their despair even deeper. Chase pushed his horse to gallop faster and the columns of riders behind him did the same.
Corporal Nash knocked firmly on the door. “Please don’t answer,” he thought as he stood in the hall waiting for a response. He was all nerves as he prepared to tell Charity news that was sure to upset her.
“Corporal Nash,” Charity said with a smile as she peered through the slightly opened door. “Do you need something?” when he didn’t answer right away she suddenly turned serious and blurted, “Is everything alright?”
“No Miss, I mean, yes Miss, er…I mean no, I don’t need anything, and no, everything is not alright,” he stammered. He stood there, unable to will the right words to his lips, when Charity opened the door farther.
“Corporal, please tell me what is the matter?” Charity said in a warm and calming tone. It was the way she would have expected Joszette to speak to the Corporal if it were she who answered the door.
“My apologies Miss,” the Corporal said looking at the floor. “It’s the Colonel…your father. He’s here in the castle.”
“My dad? He’s here?” she asked in surprise and excitement, and she started for the door.
“Miss, please wait!” Corporal Nash said, holding out his hand to stop her.
“What? No! Let me go! Where is my dad?” Charity said, confused and frustrated.
“He’s in the infirmary Miss Hayes. I’ll take you to him, but you must prepare yourself…he’s hurt very badly. It…doesn’t look good.”
Straightening herself and pressing the wrinkles in her dress down with her hands, Charity nodded once and flatly said, “Take me to my father please, Corporal.” Tears began streaming down her face, but her expression remained calm. The corners of her mouth had the slightest downward turn and her lower eye lids seemed to quiver.
Corporal Nash felt his heart breaking as he watched her trying to hide her sadness and worry. He immediately turned toward the door and gestured for her to follow. He walked side by side with Charity, at her pace all the way to the infirmary door. There, he gave her shoulder a squeeze for courage and opened the door. He stepped aside and let her enter alone.
Charity walked timidly into the castle infirmary. It was getting dark outside and the shadows were growing in size and darkness. “Daddy?” she said quietly.
“What are you doing in here child?” asked an old bearded man with a bloody leather apron and large hands. He looked tired and gruff, but Charity thought that he had kind eyes.
“I’m looking for Colonel Hayes…my father, sir.”
The doctor sighed and shook his head. “Young lady, I am sorry to have to say this but…”
He was interrupted by a fancy looking noble entering the infirmary in a hurry. The man looked quite worried and rushed right to the doctor, cutting in front of Charity, and asking,” Where is Colonel Hayes? The wounds…are they mortal? Will he live?”
“My Lord, as I was saying to his daughter,” and he gestured to the girls standing behind Kelly. “The Colonel’s wounds are quite serious. It’s too early to say if he will make it or not. It’s really up to him at this point. I’ve sewn him up and stopped the bleeding, but he’s feverish and he has lost a lot of blood.” Then leaning to the side to see past the King’s Master of Swords, and to look at Charity in the eyes, he said, “I’m sorry.”
Joszette, whom Charity had not seen since she left to find her a dress earlier, came out of a room down the hall wiping her eyes. When she looked up and saw Charity, the tears came flooding down her cheeks again and she ran to her. She hugged her close and cried. “He’s going to make it Charity. Believe that. Your father will make it.”
In the King’s chambers, his advisor reported the current events. “Your majesty,” the advisor said. “Refugees are flooding the city at an alarming rate. Duke Dennison and his armies are razing the countryside. They are destroying every village and hamlet that opposes them.”
King Oglefurth waved the advisor away. He was in no mood to deal with peasants and their problems. He already knew about the armies marching across his kingdom, and he was convening a war council tonight with all of his generals and aides. Right now, his mind was elsewhere.
The king sat at his dinner table, staring at the empty chair and place setting he had arranged especially for Lady Deluc. “My champion has her affection. Well, I have little need of a broken champion. Perhaps I can solve two problems with one solution.”
“Wait!” he called out to his advisor. “Have the royal surgeon sent to me immediately. I want to discuss his new patient.”
“Yes your Highness,” said the cleric before he bowed and exited the room.
A short while later, the same bearded doctor that had spoken to Charity was standing before the King in his private chambers.
“I’m not sure one way or the other, your Majesty. I wish I could be certain, but it’s just too soon to tell. His wounds are grave, but he’s strong.” Shaking his head again he said, “I’m sorry I can’t be more help sire.
“No need to apologize,” the King said with a smile. “Get some rest, I’ll have him looked after throughout the night.”
“Thank you, your Majesty,” said the doctor, bowing and then taking his leave.
The King motioned for his advisor to come close. He whispered quietly into his ear and then waved him away.
The advisor hurried from the room to carry out the King’s orders.
Chapter Seventy-Four
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Major Martin was sitting in the cold moon-shadow covered back half of the Colonel’s infirmary room when he heard footsteps in the hall. They were not the innocent foot falls of someone casually moving from point A to point B. These were deliberately stealthy, secretive footsteps that could only belong to someone with dangerous curiosity or ill intent.
Silently standing and moving next to the door, Chase pressed his back to the wall and slipped his knife free of his belt. He raised it, ready to strike. A slender man of medium height and build crept into the room and moved toward the Colonel’s bed. Steel reflected in the moonlight as the assassin approached. Chase stepped directly behind him and simultaneously jerked him back with an arm around his throat and shoved six inches of steel into the man’s ribs.
He held the man in a choke hold around the neck until he stopped struggling and slowly lowered him to the floor. The man wore no uniform and had no obvious signs of allegiance on his person. Chase quickly checked the assassin’s pockets, but found nothing. He took the man’s dagger and placed it in his own belt. Then Chase stooped and lifted the lifeless corpse from under its arms, and dragged it out into the hall.
He looked at the man again in the moonlight that was streaming in from the windows along the opposite wall of the corridor. He tried to make out anything that could point to who the assassin was, or who had employed him. Shaking his head in frustration, Chase turned and walked to the infirmary door. He drew both daggers and cautiously opened the door.
“Hey, Private! Wake up!” he whispered loudly to the guard posted outside the door. He kicked the sleeping Private with his boot.
The Private didn’t wake. He slumped over farther, uncovering a pool of blood that was gatheri
ng beneath him.
“I guess you won’t be sleeping on the job anymore,” he said just above a whisper, and he gave the body a second kick out of anger. “Guards! Come to the Infirmary! Guards!” he shouted.
Remembering the revenants they had witnessed after the ambush, Chase snapped his head back to the infirmary hall. The corpse was still. “I don’t think we’ll be taking any chances today,” he thought as he took the guard’s sword and hacked off the assassin’s head.
The first castle guard skidded to stop in the infirmary doorway when he saw Major Martin sever a man’s head in the moonlight. “Whoa there sir…just, just…put the sword down,” he said as he held his sword, wavering out in front of him.
“Shut up and listen!” Chase said angrily. “I really have no patience for this right now! Send word to General Collins immediately that an assassin tried and failed to kill the Colonel. Understood?”
The guard gave no response.
“I also need you to find Captain Corvis Brente and Master of Swords Kelly Turner. Tell them to meet me here right away, and tell them it’s of the gravest importance. Got it?”
The guard was still holding his sword at guard in front of him and looking quite shaken.
“Private, either go deliver the messages I just gave you, or get the hell out of the way so someone else can!”
“Oh…Uh, yes sir!” the guard said snapping out of the stupor he had been in. “Okay, right away sir!” He fumbled his sword back into the scabbard and ran back the way he had come.
“Major Martin!” shouted a second guard from down the hall. “What the…?” Sounds of dry heaving were heard coming loudly from the hallway. After a few moments he pulled himself together and was standing in the doorway. He asked, “Uh…Is everything alright sir?”
From his chair against the back wall Major Martin answered wryly, “Fantastic. How has your night been?”
