Take My Heart...: Dark Ages - Fantasy (Dark Gods & Tainted Souls Book 3)

by Schenk, Julius

  Thellas threw back the flap of the tent and stalked from it to his tall white horse which was being held by a small page boy, with a fine clean tunic. The tiny boy bowed to him and helped him mount the horse quickly. He hated these Northmen and mercenaries, they were all so tall, he wasn’t even short for a Pellosi man, almost six feet, yet these giants were still a hand or so taller than him, it was embarrassing. Mounted, he kicked his fine steed harder than he needed to, it took off with a jump and pounded towards the Keep.

  His small army of men was waiting for him in the courtyard. Now at least, he felt better. His soldiers bowed their head respectfully as he passed and he could see the tinges of fear in their eyes, that was better, he was someone to be taken seriously. Jumping from his horse and landing hard he saw his mentor Renfra. He took the old man by the shoulder and led him inside of the Keep.

  These Red Bastards were hardly the cold-blooded killers he’d been told about. They were much too curious by far and that Goldie was much too clever for his own good. He thought they’d be happy with their assignments and raping a few priestess to get the locals riled up should have been a nice little bonus for them.

  “What is it my king, you seem agitated?” Renfra asked.

  “I am, it’s these men we’ve hired. I doubt them. I can trust them about as far as their fleas can jump,” he said.

  “They are mercenaries, to be untrustworthy is their profession,” he said.

  “But they seem to find this current chore distasteful, what should I do, kill them now, do it myself?” he said.

  “Let’s not do anything rash. I suggest sending a small group of men to shadow them. We can watch and report on what they do. If we have to kill them earlier than planned so be it. Either at Twin Plains once they have helped our cause or on the road somewhere between, it matters not,” he said.

  The king calmed himself and looked at his mentor.

  “Wise council as always, you go with them. I trust you most of all,” he said.

  Renfra could be trusted to guide him. He’d been the one to show him the truth of the world and the horrors that hid in the shadows. The problem was a lack of fear. There were people like Elizebetha and this young bastard Seth who were against the natural order of things and they felt no fear from their actions. They seemed to think they could do anything they liked and they wouldn’t be called to account, but now he had the power he’d change that, they would learn to be afraid, just like he had.

  He’d woken screaming in his bed every night for months. Visions of his father’s destroyed and desecrated body before him. He imagined the animals that had done it, their sharp soulless teeth ripping his skin and mauling him like they had his father.

  He was woken by a hand lightly shaking his shoulder. It was Renfra shaking him awake.

  “My young king, we’ve finally found one, one that knows of what happened to your father,” he said. The man was smiling broadly and helped him from his bed.

  The young king slowly got dressed as Renfra waited outside. Putting on his finest armor and strapping a small Child’s sword to his side. He was still on thirteen and tried to calm himself, he’d asked them to find the killer and now they had. He walked from his bedroom, the bed still soaked with cold stale piss from his night terrors and walked out. His maids never mentioned it and there were no rumors or giggles behind his back, they knew better than that.

  Renfra walked slowly ahead of the young king and guided him from the main Keep. They walked past his father’s study and to the back of the Keep. Down some cold stone stairs, they passed two guards who stood on the side of a large wooden doorway. One of the men just nodded at Renfra and pushing the huge door, swung it inwards. Inside was well lit and Thellas could see it was a prison. There were small rows of cells and guards sitting by them looking bored. They stood to attention as the king walked past. He wandered to one of the cells and looked into it. There was an old man in tattered robes and more than a few large bruises on his body and face. The man looked at the king with wandering blue cloudy eyes, he looked like any other Pellosi beggar to be seen in great number in the city streets.

  “His crime?” Thellas asked.

  “Speaking against the king’s interests,” said the captain of the guards, who had walked up beside him. The man was finely dressed and had a small eagle on the breast of his leather armor a sign of office. The king looked around at the ten or so people in various cells.

  “The rest?”

  “Same crime, different methods.”

  The boy was slightly horrified to see so many. Where his citizens against him. He’d only be in charge for a few short weeks and made only a few public appearances, letting his uncle take the lead until he was of age, of course, the man did what Renfra told him but still he was a good face for the city.

  “So many.”

  “Never fear, my King. Fewer and fewer every week as they learn a harsh lesson, they are like children who need to know that they have a strict father who will neither tolerate any churlish behavior nor spare the rod,” he said.

  Renfra took the young king by the shoulder and lead him away from the man in the cage. They walked to the smaller narrow doorway at the back of the room that was guarded by a single man. He was dressed in red, bald and had the same tattoos as Renfra, he bowed deeply to the king and Renfra and let them pass.

  Down a narrow set of stone stairs. It was cold and close in there and Thellas felt his fear raising. Renfra gripped his shoulder hard and guided him on. They walked from the staircase to the dungeon. He was shocked and tried to hold onto his emotions as he took in the sight. There was a single person in the room. Tied to a large wooden cross, a young woman, not five years older than himself. She was lashed to the wooden arms of the large structure with rough leather ties, he could see where they had cut into her wrists and legs. She was a desert girl. He’d never seen one before, dark skin and long matted black hair, she raised her head slowly to look at him and he saw, she had a broken lip and signs of a beating.

  Thellas was horrified. What could she have possibly done?

  Renfra bent down and looked at him. “I know it’s hard but she is one of them, she must be taught.”

  “She killed my father?”

  “Her people call on the dead, they practice dark blood magic and they know of dark beasts from other lands.”

  He stepped forward. “Is it true do you know of where these creatures come from, the ones with the sharp teeth and howls, the ones which ripped my father apart?” he asked.

  She looked at him. “I know them, my father is a shaman of our people, he can call them but never would,” she said.

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “We fear them as much as you do,” she said.

  “I’m not afraid. Can you call them as well?” he asked.

  A flicker of fear passed her eyes. Renfra stepped back and reaching to a small table handed the young king a baton. It was a short rod covered in leather and metal studs.

  “Ask her again,” he said.

  Chapter Thirteen.

  The cold found his exposed arms and made him shiver. His arm, which held Seraphina’s boat was aching and his hand felt weak. He’d been holding the wooden railing close for hours and hours. At first, they had talked but now they just sat in silence as their boats slowly floated on the soft lapping waves through the fog. To either side of him, he could see no more than an arm’s length and even making out her small face right next to him was difficult.

  She was asleep with her head slumped down and long blonde hair covering her face. The truth was he felt slightly wrong attempting to travel with her. He felt a duty to keep her safe but he had an overwhelming feeling this was a personal journey for them both, in which neither would be welcome to follow along. He just hoped there would be a way for them to make it through on the other side together. Living people weren’t meant to make this journey and so he’d break more rules as well while he was at it.

  Slowly the fog started to clear and Seth sa
w he was floating in a sea of boats. He looked to his left and saw something that shocked him. It was an unknown man, but he was wearing the uniform of Blackrock. Seth thought he had saved these from their deaths now as he looked he saw more and more. All the people he was meant to have stopped from killing each other were here. It was a sea of blood covered and tattered uniforms and outfits he knew well. Blackrock, Twin Plains. Cold Death mercenaries and some people with red painted faces. He didn’t know who they were but they had clearly got caught up in the slaughter. As he looked he saw their eyes were set straight ahead like his had been, as if willing themselves onwards.

  He called out to the man. “Hey, Blackrock! Are you from Blackrock?”

  The man seemed to snap out of a daze, turning his head slowly he looked over at Seth. Seth saw the man had a huge bloody gash down his face that had removed part of his eye, he shuddered. The man stared for a moment at him and then back ahead.

  “Blackrock!” Seth yelled again. By this time, Seraphina had woken and was frightened. The flotilla of tiny boats pushed hard against theirs. All around were faces and people from the battle he’d failed to prevent.

  The man looked back at Seth, dead eyes but he spoke. “Blackrock, why do I know that name”

  “That’s where you’re from. Duchess Elizebetha’s Keep?” he said.

  The man seemed to take in his words and then spoke slowly. “Yes, the Duchess Elizebetha, have you seen her? I need to protect her. My father guarded her father I think, it’s an honor for my family,” he rambled.

  “Why would I have seen her?” Seth asked a pit of fear growing in her stomach.

  The man looked at him blankly. “She’s dead, the king killed her and then he killed us. He killed us all.”

  The boats were moving again and the man was thrust away from Seth. His boat was hit hard from the side smashing his hand in between the rails of his and Seraphina boat. Seth drew back his hand with a shout, Blood dripping from his fingers. Seraphina looked in horror as his hand came away from her boat. He reached out again but it was too late. Within seconds, the current had pulled her away. Seth rushed to the front of his boat, frantically trying to grab hers again. His last sight of her through the fog, her scared face was swept away into the growing white wall. As he saw her go he heard her cry, “Seth.” Then she was lost to the fog.

  Chapter Fourteen.

  Minsetta sat on a stolen horse, next to Grimm and Josette, under the cover of some sparse trees and watched the show that was unfolding before her eyes. She moved in her saddle restlessly and tried to quell her impatience. She’d seen the Red Bastards, all six or so hundred of them, slowly moving around and breaking up their camp. They scurried like little busy ants packing down their tents and loading huge packs on their backs. They were all neatly dressed in Twin Plains uniforms but still held the weapons of mercenaries and acted like them. The Twin Plains army had never taken so long to get ready to march or had so much fun doing it. She could hear their rough voices and laughter floating across the vacant plain to where they waited under cover from the bright sun.

  Slowly the ragtag army gathered up into rough lines of three, got ready to march and cause some mayhem. She could see Goldie and Farirkar at the head lead them off in a slow walk. It was only two days till there first stop and they had to quickly get ahead of them and warn the poor souls just who was coming to visit. She went to ride out but Grimm grabbed the reins of her horse in his firm hand and just slowly shook his head.

  As she looked a small group of the king’s men were following slowly behind on horseback. They trotted very slowly keeping a good distance between them and the Reds.

  “Looks like the king doesn’t trust our Goldie,” Grimm said.

  Minsetta reached out her hand and opening a leather bag strapped to the side of her horse. She pulled out the map for the tenth time and looked at it. She knitted her brow. As far as threats to the king went these three weren’t even top twenty. The first she had no idea about just some desert nomads the king probably hated because as he said to Goldie, they didn’t pay taxes. The second though was well known to her. The Temple of the divine child was a lovely and benign order. She had met a few of their acolytes when she was being sweet and nice and giving women a final moment with their children who had passed over. They were an order of midwives, dedicated to safe births and actually viewed giving birth as a spiritual gift. They were misguided but harmless.

  The third, Goldie, hadn’t been told but she knew. There was only one thing in that area and if they went there it would be their first proper fight. It was the home of the temple of the Lucky Lady and as such, it was a gambling den. Animal racing, pit fighting with slaves, shady deals and dangerous people. Goldie would be right at home there and would never attack it. He was practically engaged to the lucky lady.

  Pointing at the map, she spoke.

  “They are on foot and as such will stick to actual roads. If we cut across the country on horse we can make it straight for the temple and get there a few days earlier, clear everyone out and have them safely away,” she said.

  “What about the first X, aren’t we going there first?” Josette asked.

  “We don’t have time. I know they are on foot, but some of the land we’ll have to cross is near on sand, we won’t be going fast,” she said.

  “I’ll go if you want,” said Grimm. “I’m pretty sure I can speak their tongue now and if anyone knows what these bald fuckers are really up to it’ll be the desert nomads. I’m fairly sure this group are descendants of the prophet, a man called white eyes, people worth saving,” he said.

  “How do you know that?” asked Josette. “And since when can you speak the desert tongue?”

  “Since I got drunk on Elizebetha’s private stash, you know it as well,” he said.

  “What do you think they’ll know?” Minsetta asked.

  “One thing keeps coming back to me from your memory of the night you were attacked by the order that man said to you, “‘You have no idea what gods you’re worshipping or giving strength to,’ it’s that phrase giving strength too. My question is, who are they giving strength to.”

  Grimm looked at the map and the horizon; it was a day’s fast ride for one man alone on horse. He turned to them both.

  “I have no idea what’s going to happen next, some many paths are opening but I feel like this might be goodbye for a while.” He took Josette’s arm in a warrior’s grip. “Stay strong little sister”

  “Minsetta thanks for the help.” He turned to ride away and looked over his shoulder with a grin. “Oh Josette, now you’re going to have to feed her!”

  Minsetta laughed and looking at Josette’s fine neck thought it did look a lot better than the Northman’s.

  Chapter Fifteen.

  Seth didn’t realize he’d slept, but when he woke on the deck of the large ship he knew he must have. The sound of waves breaking against a strong hull brought his eyes open, he stood quickly, weapon drawn, expecting something, but not this. He was back on The Opulent. The fine ship that had carried him so long ago from the jail in Cravosi to his long journey onwards, people milled around him in their fine clothes and paid little attention to him. He recognized some of them from his voyage, a certain guard or officer, a certain attractive female passenger he’d noticed. They enjoyed the sunshine of the bright fresh day it had become. He could smell the fresh ocean, feel the cool air and it felt real.

  Then he saw her. She looked younger than when he’d first met her. As she must have been in death. Elizebetha walked up to Seth and hugged him.

  “Hello Sir Seth, it’s been a long time,” she said.

  He felt a pit of sadness crawl up in him and tried to find his eyes but he forced it down, what weakness that would be. He pulled back from her and took her hands, they felt cold and dead. He could see dark red marks around her neck.

  “You’ve been killed then?” he asked simply.

  Taking her hand from his, she slowly rubbed the deep red marks on her neck.<
br />
  “It seems I have though I can’t remember much of it. I think I was killed by the king but it all happened so fast. First we lost you and I was so proud of you, you saved us all, but then it all happened anyway. The duchess, the battle and then the king,” she said sadly.

  “So I failed you all, my gesture was all for nothing,” he said.

  “I’m not so sure. I don’t think I’m meant to be here Seth, this is not my journey, it’s yours but something is trying to help us. I think it wants us to do something,” she said.

  “A Druheim’s job is never finished,” he said with a laugh. Then he stopped and looked around the deck. “Have you seen Seraphina?” Knowing before he asked. Elizebetha looked at him sadly. “This isn’t her journey Seth, maybe you’ll find each other again. Now come with me, we have a different old friend to meet.”

  Elizebetha took him by the hand and led him across the polished wooden deck. He walked easily through the people and noticed his arm would just pass through some and not others, were some just illusions? or ghosts of the fallen? clearly not all were dead.

  He looked at the sparring area just before him and almost laughed, it was the place he’d first learn to use the rapier, his fight against that officer fellow whatever his name was.

  “Officer Ramon, my friend here says he can beat you any day or night.” He heard Elizebetha yell in her refined voice.

  Indeed, it was the officer Ramon standing in front of him sparring with his brother as he had been all that time ago. The man looked him over and snorted. “Doubtful my lady but your man should watch his tongue, a man’s honor is all he has,” he said.

  The man was clearly as prickly as he’d always been.

  “What of a woman’s honor? He says you dance around like one and in such pretty clothes,” she said back. That did it. The man’s eyes lit up with rage. Seth remembered that look very well. The fight came back to him. He’d fought the man but not killed him. He’d let him live, if in total shame.