Protector's Curse

by Keith Walsh

  ***

  The man stared at his reflection in the mirror, and the image he saw there hid the truth of his years. Broad shoulders, a slim waist lined with muscle and badly scared, testament to the many arena fights, tournaments and even wars their bearer had played a part in. The man’s eyes roamed higher and finally came to rest on his hair. It was badly greyed and somewhat unkempt. He reached for a brush on the dressing table, which also held the mirror. He brushed through the grey hair until it started to resemble something of normality, then a little more until it looked neat. Then he bunched it together into a ponytail and used a strip of cloth to tie it.

  That’s better.

  He looked deep into the eyes of the reflection that stared back at him. They were a deep green and still held some fire but dark bags underneath them suggested sleep was rare and that perhaps even when it did come it was accompanied by nightmares that simply stole it away again. The man sighed and turned to face a bed where the clothes he had laid out earlier awaited him. He was about to get dressed when a figure entering the room halted his actions.

  Sister got a shock as she realised the man in front of her was naked. Despite this she couldn’t help the impulse to let her eyes roam over his body. Being a woman of Faith she had never been with a man in a sexual manner, but this fact did little to stop her impulse. See scanned the sculpted body and as her eyes tried hard to resist going any further then the waist, a brief glance at his manhood caused her to blush.

  Sister cleared her throat before speaking.

  “I am so sorry Dallious, I should have knocked.”

  Dallious couldn’t help but notice her voice was a little more excitable than normal.

  “That’s quite all right Sister, I should have been dressed by now. I fear I have been later in rising than usual,” he confessed. Dallious seemed unaware that his words had been poorly chosen and Sister fought the images that flashed through her head upon hearing the word ‘rising.’ She distracted herself, brushing imaginary creases from her habit in a vain attempt to gain a degree of composure.

  Dallious allowed himself to revel in her discomfort momentarily before moving to the bed and dressing.

  “You may look now Sister, I am fully clothed,” he said, his tone light. Sister saw that Dallious was dressed in a beautifully embroidered silk white shirt, black suede leggings and black leather booths. Her mind, however, simply would not allow her to ignore the images she had witnessed seconds before but again she fought them and forced it from her thoughts by focussing on the fierce but tired looking face of Dallious.

  He met her eyes, smiled and spoke. “Where are my manners, may I offer you something to eat or drink perhaps?” he asked while stepping aside and waving his hand in the direction of a small table upon which sat a platter of food, a jug and two goblets. Sister believed the jug to contain only water for she had rarely seen Dallious drink anything else.

  “No thank you. It is kind of you to offer but I’m fine.” She noted Dallious’ nod in acceptance of her answer. “Are you still suffering from nightmares Dallious? You look tired.” said Sister, her concern genuine.

  “I have always tried my best to live an honourable life Sister but I have done what I consider to be terrible things. I have killed, and yes – my dreams are often haunted by the faces of those whose lives I have taken. It is, in my opinion, the least punishment I deserve.” He did not look at her as he spoke.

  “You are a good ma—”

  “Forgive my rudeness Sister but I must ask, what brings you to my quarters?” Dallious interrupted as he moved to the table bearing the food. He began carving a slice of meat and before Sister could offer any response he speared the freshly cut morsel and forced it hungrily into his mouth. Chewing, he picked up the jug and poured its contents into one of the goblets sitting next to it. Sister noted that her judgement had been correct and that it was indeed water.

  “Yes, of course Dallious. Forgive me. Recent events caused my thoughts to stray.” As she spoke the image of his naked body flashed through her mind once more, and again she fought them back. Dallious just nodded in response as he continued to chew on the meat.

  “Some men on horseback have arrived at the gate and are demanding entry. You have served Amber well since her birth, Dallious, and you owe us nothing but there is something about one of these men that causes my skin to crawl.” Sister’s words held genuine concern and her mood was not helped when she saw Dallious’ response. He stopped chewing instantly and as he turned to her with eyes wide he gulped hard, swallowing the mouthful.

  “How many men? And please describe the one who unnerved you in detail,” he asked, his tone suddenly very serious.

  “There are six of them. The lead rider is a hawk-nosed man, his physique not unlike yours, and his eyes – his eyes are blue and cold.” She shivered involuntarily before continuing.

  “The one directly behind him reminds me of Gallant. Big and powerful, although he looks older and his nose is badly disfigured. His eyes were grey and also cold but I did not feel fear when looking into them, only a great sadness.” Sister’s eyes were closed as she spoke and Dallious knew she was picturing what she had witnessed, trying to give him the best possible description.

  “The others I could not see fully enough to give an adequate account but they also seemed to have similar builds to yourself.” When she finished speaking she opened her eyes and looked expectantly at him. Dallious paused for a moment to consider everything he had heard.

  “Your feelings serve you well, Sister. The lead rider is a man named Kalen. I knew him a long time ago. My history with him is the reason I chose to protect Amber these past few years. He is without doubt a highly skilled and cold-blooded killer. I will never understand why the Gods bestow such talent upon those with—”

  “Gods?” interrupted Sister with a raised eyebrow.

  “This is hardly the time for religious debate,” retorted Dallious, irritation apparent in his voice.

  “Perhaps you are right about that Dallious, but all people are born equal. God does not bestow anything upon us – life and the choices we make guides our path.”

  “I would argue that point too Sister, if we had the time. However, I doubt Kalen will be patient enough to allow us to conclude the debate.” While he spoke he moved to an old chest that lay on the ground next to the dresser. Kneeling down his hands caressed the lid, leaving tracks in the thick layer of dust that had settled there. He remained like that for a moment as emotion washed over him and his eyes welled. No sound emanated from his lips but soon the tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

  He did nothing to stop them.

  As they gathered on his chin they dropped to the old chest below and mixed with the dust there, forming tiny impact craters before being absorbed and drying. He closed his eyes, gulped and in doing so stemmed the flow of tears. Composing himself further he lifted the lid, which protested with a loud creek to reveal a beautifully crafted rapier and dagger set.

  “I never thought I would have to pick up these weapons of death again,” he said, lifting the set from its tomb and wrapping their belt around his waist. Seeing the streaks upon his face Sister rushed forward and placed her hand on his, stopping him from fastening the belt buckle. He did nothing to resist, instead choosing to savour her delicate touch. It was the first time she had ever laid a hand on him and although he knew her to be a woman of Faith he couldn’t help but feel the connection between them.

  “Kalen will kill me,” he whispered bowing his head towards hers. She looked into his eyes, all too aware of the feelings between them. She wanted to pull away but here was a man who believed he faced certain death and yet had the courage and strength to stand against it.

  “I feel it too,” she whispered, ignoring his previous comment, “but you know I can’t reciprocate. I have given my life to God.” Her eyes danced with his and the urge to kiss him was unbearable. She grasped his hand and nearly broke, but Dallious suddenly straightened.

  “Of cour
se. How foolish of me to consider there was a chance that you might rethink your Faith in exchange for love,” said Dallious, his tone bitter. His actions caused their hands to separate and he now finished buckling the weapons to his person. Sister was about to speak when Dallious whipped the rapier from its sheath and began twisting and turning it in his hand, eyeing it as he did.

  “You will excuse me, but I need to warm up,” he said, the bitterness turning to frost. Sister looked at him with a frown, her head tilted. Dallious met her gaze but raised his chin and gestured towards the door then turned his head away from her, focussing on the ground. He held this stance, waiting for her to leave. Sadness filled Sister’s heart but she did not like the fact that Dallious could not understand her commitment to her Faith. She turned and headed for the door.

  “Oh Sister,” said Dallious, his tone slightly hesitant. She felt a wave of relief rush over her as she turned expectantly to face him. This freshly raised hope was short lived, however, as she noticed he was still looking away from her. She felt anger rise within her and as such answered simply, “Yes?”

  “Tell Kalen someone will be with him momentarily,” he said, still averting his eyes.

  Chapter 2

  Kalen’s patience waned. He had dismounted from his horse and now paced back and forth in front of the huge door to the convent. He stopped suddenly and pulled a dagger from its sheath on his chest baldric. Using the butt of the handle he banged furiously on the door, repeating what he had done just moments before. “I swear if you do not open this door, we will break it down and make no mistake your precious orphans will suffer my wrath!” Kalen said before launching another assault on the door.

  Atheles watched his master with some amusement. He had rarely seen Kalen show such emotion but then he hadn’t killed anyone in a few days and it likely played on his mind. It was possible that he missed inflicting pain and death. He wanted to offer opinion to the fact that perhaps they could not hear him but knew he would face harsh consequences immediately after doing so. The thought did force a smile to his lips but he quelled it quickly in fear that Kalen may turn around and see him. Instead he sat silently upon his saddle, the others doing the same, waiting for Kalen to give orders.

  Finally Kalen stopped and turned to face his men. He was about to speak when a loud commotion could be heard from behind the door. It sounded as though a large piece of wood was being lifted, and shortly afterwards the huge door to the convent swung open with a creek.

  Kalen turned immediately on his heel and made straight for the doorway. Atheles and the other riders dismounted and followed their master’s lead. As soon as he walked through the doorway Sister greeted him. He paused for a moment, completely ignoring the woman and scanned the area behind her. An open area that seemed to be for horse tethering and feeding greeted him. He noted the ground was dry and cracked, but he could see no one else but Sister. A movement came from his left and Kalen spun, his rapier raised. There stood a man dressed in brown leather leggings, black boots and a black leather jerkin. He seemed to sport a limp as he started to amble towards Kalen. He looked to be middle-aged and his features were rugged.

  “This is Dunst, he is our stable hand and general caretaker,” introduced Sister. Dunst smiled at her and then turned to Kalen and nodded. “I will be happy to take care of your horses while you visit Sir,” said Dunst. He gestured beyond Kalen towards the five men and six horses being led through the doorway. Kalen gave a stuttering laugh, and his eyes locked on Dunst.

  “Perhaps you did not hear me knocking for several minutes?” said Kalen, his tone sarcastic and his expression one of incredulous disbelief. How dare this peasant offer such politeness after ignoring him for so long, thought Kalen, his anger not helped by that fact he had overlooked the man’s presence when he had first entered the convent.

  “Ah yes, I am sorry about that Sir. I did not at the time have permission to open the gate for you and your companions,” he explained with an expression of regret.

  Kalen couldn’t quite believe his ears and with lightning speed his rapier shot forward and pressed against Dunst’s throat. Sister took a sharp intake of breath and the stable hand threw his arms into the air in supplication. Kalen was about to ram his rapier home when a shout came from behind him.

  “Kalen!”

  He lowered his rapier and turned to see a man standing a few feet away dressed in a beautifully embroidered white silk shirt, black suede leggings and black leather boots. About his waist he wore a rapier and dagger set. Kalen recognised the shirt, weapons and man instantly. “Dallious,” he said in an excited tone, his eyes glinting with a flicker of madness.

  Sister noticed the way Kalen looked at Dallious and she felt her blood run cold. She knew now that Dallious had been correct to describe Kalen as a cold-blooded killer. Her Faith demanded that she forgive this man his evils and feel sadness for him. She knew she must not hate, but as she looked to Dallious and back at the man now staring at him with such malevolence she couldn’t help feeling a little.

  Atheles, seeing what transpired, handed the reins of his and Kalen’s horse to Dunst and then moved quickly to Kalen’s side. Kalen didn’t even notice the arrival of his companion. He was focussed entirely on Dallious, his eyes flicking over the man’s figure. “I see you wear my shirt and arms,” he said at last, his tone cool.

  “Your shirt and arms?” replied Dallious with a raised eyebrow. “I believe my victory in the sword masters tournament makes them mine, Kalen.”

  “Ah yes,” replied Kalen. “However, if I had not been disqualified for killing the previous champion I would have beaten you and taken them for myself,” he continued, remembering briefly his first duel and how he had slain the man while he saluted.

  Dallious noted that Kalen’s expression did not change when he spoke and it appeared that he truly believed he would have bested him had he not been ejected from the competition.

  “Ha, you would not have won then Kalen. Your arrogance is almost as misplaced as your sanity,” he replied angrily. Kalen laughed aloud before gathering his composure and locking those cold and empty eyes on Dallious. “I find it interesting that you chose to use the word ‘then,’ it implies that you no longer believe you can stand against me.” Contempt dripped from Kalen as he spoke.

  He noticed Atheles standing to his left and that Dunst had tethered the horses and went about watering them. His other companions were fanning out around Dallious, waiting for Kalen’s order. He also noted that the actions of his men did not seem to bother Dallious one bit, who kept his attention squarely on Kalen.

  “I would advise you to instruct your men to halt their actions Kalen. I have no wish to kill any of you but I will not hesitate to defend this place. Ask what you need to and then leave,” Dallious said without a hint of fear. Kalen waved his hand through the air and his men stopped in their tracks.

  “Come now Dallious, let us not play these silly games. You know why I am here. The girl and the giant she now travels with – I need to know what their intended destination is and any information you have on this outsized character would of course be appreciated. I assure you the more detail you provide the less I will make you, this woman and the orphans suffer.” Kalen eyed Sister as he spoke and Dallious could feel his patience thinning. “A rare beauty indeed,” observed Kalen, looking her up and down. “Have you managed to get her to break her vows yet? Don’t worry my friend, we will see to it that she is well cared for when you are dead,” he added, grinning.

  “You waste your time Kalen. She means nothing to me.” The lie came easily and Sister looked towards Dallious with sadness. Kalen caught the look. “I’m afraid Sister’s eyes betray your lie Dallious,” he said with a wry smile as he turned to study Dallious once more, eager to judge his response. Dallious cursed Sister for being so easily fooled but held firm to the lie, repeating his words. It was a performance so good that Sister herself questioned if she had misjudged Dallious’ feelings for her.

  “Interesting�
�” Kalen said quietly. Perhaps a more severe method of action is needed to judge Dallious’ boundaries, he thought, and with that in mind he called to the stable hand. Dunst turned to face Kalen and grunted in surprise as he was swept from his feet. Sister screamed in shock and ran to the aid of the grounded man. Kneeling, she turned his body over and put a hand to her mouth in horror at what she saw – a dagger, buried to the hilt through Dunst’s right eye, the man well and truly dead. Sister’s emotions overcame her and she rose purposefully and rushed Kalen, who backhanded her smartly across the face and sent her flying to the ground.

  This proved too much for Dallious, who felt his resolve melt away. He moved for Kalen but was immediately blocked by one of his henchmen. The man drew his sword and launched a vicious cut towards Dallious’ head. He ducked swiftly and easily under the blow and landed an elbow to the attacker’s stomach, causing the man to double up, air forced from his lungs. As he recovered Dallious moved behind him and pulled his own rapier clear of its sheath then lanced it through the man’s back, expertly piercing the heart. The attacker arched momentarily as the blade passed through him, then he fell silently at Dallious’ feet.

  Dallious didn’t wait to see if his blow had been fatal, for he already knew it had been and made for Kalen once more. Upon reaching him, he thrust at his throat with his rapier. Kalen, weapon still undrawn, pirouetted away from the blade. With that Dallious felt a deadweight hit his right cheek and was sent spinning, preventing any renewed attack on Kalen. Atheles had thrown a powerful right cross into Dallious’ face.

  Pain flooded Dallious and he felt a trickle of blood run down his cheek. His vision slightly blurred, he fought hard to focus and steadied himself just in time to see a second henchman’s blade thrust towards his stomach. He parried it away expertly and sent a lightning riposte back towards the attacker’s throat. His blade slid easily into flesh and he pulled it clear smoothly, a gurgling cry emanating from his victim as he fell back, dropping his weapon and clutching at the wound.