Ooktook sought her out again, blood stains matting her fur. Well done, ailing kin. May the blood of these cursed uprights hold your ailment at bay for another moon.
My thanks. The black wolf lowered her head in a quick, modest, show of deference and promptly turned her back on the smaller but more powerful timber wolf and began to feed. The timber wolves withdrew to hunt for their own food leaving the black wolves in peace. It irked the pack leader that she was always outsmarted by the smaller wolves, and she was glad that even with their larger numbers Ooktook had never tried to take them into the timber wolf pack. That would end badly for her and her pack, she knew.
She lost track of time as she gorged on the blood of her makers. She and her kin would be well for a time, but the need to feed would strike again and certainly lead to another confrontation with Ooktook and her pack of timber wolves. She knew that as long as Ooktook led that pack there would likely not be many problems. Yet what if one of the younger tried to replace her? The pack leader did not like the way many of the timber wolves had looked at her.
As the sun began to set and its rays cast their golden beams at the red and gold and yellow leaves, the pain returned. The pack leader and her kin howled in agony and began to writhe on the ground. She hoped the timber wolves were gone, she could not smell them anymore, but that didn’t mean they were not watching from somewhere far away.
Slowly the pain receded, and by the time darkness had replaced the day Alyksandra lay naked on the ground covered in blood. Slowly and painfully she opened her eyes, even they hurt badly. She struggled in agony to her knees and looked through her blood matted black hair, streaked with silver, to see Karl, Calepo, and Aura naked and laying amidst the filth and blood and entrails of their deed.
“It is done!” she shouted hoarsely. When Calepo did not move, she kicked him in the ass with her big toe.
“Move, before we are discovered!” Calepo lay there covered in blood with his eyes closed. The look of pure ecstasy on his face reminded Alyksandra of how he looked when he was high on mountain-leaf. She admired his outlook, and at the same time, it disgusted her that she did. While Alyksandra detested herself for her actions, Calepo reveled in his.
She left him there to check on the others. Aura’s ordinarily raven hair was matted to her breasts with dried blood. How long had they lain in the carnage? The moon was high now, but she couldn’t recall what the phase and path of the moon should be now anyway. She also envied Aura in some ways. She was beautiful and womanly in every way from her blue eyes and supple frame to her slender thighs and hips curved just right. And she was a very capable fighter, skilled in the art of Ni Doh, a deadly form of unarmed combat practiced by the deadly warrior-assassins of the Far West.
Alyksandra, however, considered herself rather frumpy and boyishly shaped. Her hips were narrow and her body boyishly wiry and strong. She kept her hair short too, and she always felt like her breasts were just something to get in the way of her armor, when she wore it. With a sigh she found that Karl was up too.
She despised Karl. He had challenged her authority on many occasions and was far too reckless. She often found herself hoping that Karl would find his way over a steep cliff. The Society was waiting on them now, she knew. It was time to get back to business.
“Up!” she shouted viciously.
“There could be another patrol coming!” The urgency in her voice drifted through Calepo’s stupor as he forced himself to his feet, completely oblivious to his blood covered nakedness. Sickened by Cal’s state and her strange attraction to it, Alyksandra got down to business. She moved about the bodies of the dead and quickly found the corpse of a hurkin soldier of about her height and weight and took his clothing and armor. From her peripheral vision she was pleased to see the others doing the same.
“Move it, Calepo! Karl, go scout the road behind us. I want to know the minute you smell another patrol coming,” ordered Aura.
For all her jealously of the woman’s beauty, Alyksandra still respected Aura for her loyalty. Aura was second in command of the small pack. As Karl ran swiftly and silently off, the other three moved among the bodies picking up what little valuables they could find and bagged them in a backpack taken from the standard bearer.
In another phase of her life, so long ago she barely recalled it, Alyksandra had been an avowed pacifist. She had been an acolyte in service to a church devoted to some god or goddess whom she couldn’t even now name. She vaguely recalled that she’d had a family; a husband, two daughters, parents. They were long dead and almost forgotten now. The fact that she could even care enough for someone to marry and raise children was so alien to her now that she couldn’t even understand that emotion. And that was what pained her most; the emptiness. No matter how much she tried, she could not fill that void in her soul, she could not make herself love anyone or anything anymore.
She felt no remorse at the bloodshed here. She knew in that other life she would have been moved to sickness by the gory scene before her eyes even though the dead were wicked hurkin. The woman wondered if the pacifist self of her past would have considered the dark lives that these hurkin led and measured that against their demise. She laughed heartily at the irony of her thoughts. She knew her own dark life was every bit as sinister as that of these terrorizing rapists. She took small pleasure in the fact that, in her own dark and despicable way, she had performed a measure of good for the world.
She recalled a saying from one of the Society Elders, “The Society does not involve itself in worldly conflicts unless there is profit from such involvement.”
One day her victims might be vicious hurkin warriors, the next a refugee shelter in Arnathia. The only thing the Society frowned upon was sport. She recalled what had happened to one of her counterparts from the Assassins’ Section who had been captured practicing his technique in a schoolyard with no purpose. Morghal had personally rescued the man from the city prison and returned him to the Society Lair. Then the Society’s Elders flayed the flesh from the man’s body, keeping him alive while exposing the delicate layers of tendons and muscles and bones beneath the skin. The offender was kept alive for days until the Elders were satisfied that their point was made. Morghal did not care that the man had targeted children. What angered him and the Elders was that the fool had done it for fun and been captured, risking exposure of the Society which had remained hidden for centuries.
After fifteen minutes of thieving from the dried out husks that remained of the hurkin soldiers, Karl came running back to the group, bounding inhumanly on hands and feet not unlike a four legged animal. Karl slid to stop and took an upright posture in front of Alyksandra and said, “Another patrol is coming this way at double-time. We must fight or flee.”
“We go!” said Alyksandra, as she bounded away toward the wood with that same inhuman gate and impossibly silent speed. The foursome moved so quickly and quietly through the wood that they were two miles away within minutes of fleeing the scene. They were long gone before the patrol arrived.
Running at that speed drained them terribly and the foursome was forced to stop for a brief rest. It was Karl who spoke first:
“Judging by the stars, and by the movements of those patrols, I believe we are on Hell’s Rail.”
Alyksandra frowned, trying to look angry rather than surprised. How fast had they moved during the day after the curse struck? She vaguely remembered their encounter with Ooktook and the events that transpired, but it was like looking at your reflection in a foggy mirror.
“We will have to run the entire way to reach Dockyard City by dawn for our meeting.”
The silent grimaces of the others meant they understood this would be a dangerous undertaking. Running at that speed in the dark and unfamiliar territory had its risks. They could easily find themselves facing a physical obstacle at too great a speed to stop. But that wasn’t the worst they could face. A sudden encounter with unfriendly raiders or a hurkin patrol would be disastrous and they would be in no condition
to fight anyone.
“Karl, you lead. Aura, left flank. Calepo, right flank. I will bring up the rear. We all know the risks, but it’s our best shot at a cure. And the Society would destroy us if we brought the hurkin army down on their heads. Any arguments?” Of course there were none. These four were members of the Society of the Damned.
The foursome loped over the harsh terrain of Hell’s Rail. This land was part of a natural land bridge that linked the Eastern Kingdoms of Eagle Forge and Gaylenburg with the Wastes and Hurkromin. Hurkin patrols guarded the borderlands and hurkin raiding parties forayed along the Rail and into the Wastes and the Eastern Kingdoms to pillage, loot, and gather slaves. Massive fang-like jutting rocks, forests of black and twisted trees, and sudden sinkholes gave way to open plains, and the foursome knew now that the worst was behind them. Now they were passing over the northern part of the Wastes; Gaylenburg and Eagle Forge lie ahead. These heavily forested lands provided excellent cover for the group as they covered incredible distances.
Finally, with dawn looming, golden rays of the sun began to peak over the terrain to the east behind them. The foursome slowed as they crossed into Imperial Hybrand. Karl led the group to a cave in the woods where they had hidden supplies. Dripping with sweat, fingers and hands bloody, and muscles burning with fatigue, the group dragged themselves into the cave. Each found their bundle of supplies. They almost never knew what state they would awaken to find themselves in, therefore they always kept well supplied lairs scattered across the land.
Alyksandra looked at her brethren, and knew with a disgusted certainty that all they had obtained from the previous day’s assault had gained them little; they would need to feed again, soon. They weren’t recovering from their ordeal quickly enough. They would be walking or limping when they went to meet with Morghal. Shaking her head, she stalked out of the cave, saying nothing, knowing her pack was following her to Dockyard City.
***
Morghal sat outside the Inn of the Serpent, lazily sipping his urzo tea. As the sun reached its zenith the foursome strode down the dock way that served as a “street” facing the bay and arrived for their meeting with Morghal. Anywhere else, this group would have stuck out in a most obvious way. Anywhere else they would have been accosted by city guards, Imperial troops, sheriffs or marshals. Yet here in Dockyard City, none of these existed. There was a silent code of conduct here that struck Alyksandra’s funny bone with its irony. The concept was laughable yet, surprisingly, it was well adhered to.
Alyksandra and Aura seated themselves at the table with Morghal. He was a decrepit old man with hollow sunken eyes, mere patches of brittle white hair on his head, and liver spots everywhere. Yet, as decrepit as he was, Alyksandra knew not to tangle with this man who had been alive somewhat longer than she, yet was vastly more powerful. She was convinced his secret of longevity was not so different from her own, and neither was his secret source of power.
“Great Master, we have completed our tasks. We have gathered the required coin for payment.” She nodded curtly to Aura who placed a leather pack on the table in front of Morghal. Calepo and Karl were standing with their backs to the three, facing the street where any potential attack may begin. Morghal reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of emerald and ruby coins, gem currency being accepted more universally than metal and more popular among the nationless peoples who frequented Dockyard City. Aura glanced fearfully from Morghal to Alyksandra and then nodded toward the street, scowling at the other’s unspoken concern. The five of them could handle any threat from the pitiful mortals who might entertain the foolish notion of robbing this group.
“Very well. You have held up your part of the bargain. I will send you to the one who can cure you.” The man had a voice of gravel and sand and sounded to Alyksandra as though he was going to spit sand from his mouth. Aura risked a fearful glance at her leader, who pretended not to see. It was bad to show weakness. Yet, she shared Aura’s concern. This was not part of the bargain.
“Great Master, forgive me. I thought you had discovered a way to cure us,” she didn’t dare show the man any disrespect, the old coot was likely ready to melt the flesh from her bones at any moment.
“Yes, it is as I have said. I have discovered a way to cure you. That cure lies within the mind of Shalthazar, a powerful master of the Shadow Tide the likes of which has not been seen in five centuries. He is wise and powerful and favored by Umber,” said the old man.
Alyksandra did not like being fooled and she was on the verge of calling the pack to rip out the old man’s throat and feed on his powerful blood. As much as she desired such violence she knew the futility of any such action; the four of them combined could not best him. Yet she maintained outward calm and, for a long moment, she sat silently staring at the old man in his threadbare brown robes.
Then she said, “Very well. Where do we find this Shalthazar?”
“Shalthazar is presently orchestrating a campaign in the Wilds of the Northern Realms, subjugating every nation, city-state, and principality from the Vaardlands to the Cklathlands,” the old man began. “You need not find him yet. There is a task you must complete before he grants you his boon.”
Angry at yet another obstacle on their road to freedom, Aura snarled at the old man. She caught herself quickly but her youthful impetuousness had revealed itself and Morghal did not care for undisciplined subordinates. Aura let out a short scream before her form went completely rigid, her eyes bulging, and a tear of pain dripping down her cheek. Alyksandra glanced at her, expressionless, and looked back at Morghal.
“Tut, tut, Runner Aura. Petulance will get you nowhere,” he said indifferently. “Please dwell on that a moment, and do not dare distract me again, dear.”
“Great Master?” Alyksandra inquired, dutifully ignoring the plight of her Second.
“There is a ship at Pier Three, passage has been obtained. You must find a human named, Carym. Be wary, he is no ordinary human.”
Be wary? Was this human a renegade from the Society? What could one human mean to Morghal and Shalthazar? This was getting worse by the minute. Hadn’t they done enough? One look at Aura’s terror filled eyes silenced any objection she had, however delicately she might have phrased it.
“Great Master, what is the role of the Society in this conflict? Aren’t we above these affairs?” she asked respectfully, knowing full well the Society did not ally itself with any governmental group.
“It is the will of the Elders that this be done. Know ye well,” cautioned the old man, “any cure you find will not revoke your membership in the Society!”
“Great Master, we hear and obey,” Alyksandra let out a small sigh and was grateful the old man did not notice. Aura’s rigormortis had apparently been released and she tried to regain her composure without offending the old man again.
“Go to the Widow’s Inn, there you will find the spore you need to track your prey.”
“Alive or dead?” she asked simply.
“Dead.”
Nothing more was said, and nothing more needed to be said. Each of the foursome knew enough not to cross the Great Master. He ruled the Society with an iron fist and protected it the same way; even the Elders feared him. Unless they wanted to be turned on by the entire Society, there would be no further discussion or disagreement. With respectful bows, Aura and Alyksandra took their leave and were immediately followed by Calepo and Karl.
“What do we do now, leader?” asked Karl with derision in his voice. “Have you bargained our lives away yet again?”
“Stow it, Karl. Else I may hand you a silver spike,” although Karl and Aura had been lovers on and off, business was business. Aura would put that silver spike through his heart to protect the pack. Alyksandra did not acknowledge him and led them down Front Street to Pier Three.
“No, Aura, I will not! She has led us on a wild goose chase for the past twenty years, seeking this cure. I think Calepo has the right of it, now. We should accept who we are and embrace our way!
It is not so bad, yes?” Karl stalked along directing his tirade toward Alyksandra. Suddenly Karl doubled over, gasping. Then he collapsed to the rickety wooden planks of the street after Aura brought a foot to the side of his head with a stunning blow. He lay there gasping and seeing spots, as he watched the filthy water sloshing below him. Then he felt what he knew could only be a silver spike with its razor sharp tip placed behind his ear.
“Do we have a misunderstanding here, Karl?” asked Aura through clenched teeth, the memory of Morghal’s power fresh in her mind. “Do you suggest going against the Society?”
“No, Second....never!” he gasped through clenched teeth as the coldness of the silver spike sapped his strength. Aura was wearing a glove and so the effects of the silver could not work against her own flesh. He glared at Alyksandra who still had her back to him pretending not to notice what was beneath her. Karl stood shakily and Aura withdrew the weapon. Calepo watched the whole affair with a cool air as Alyksandra sensed the end of the confrontation and walked away. The rest followed in grim silence, contemplating what the future held for them and how finding this human was going to help.
C H A P T E R
A Tide of Shadows Page 24
