by James Wisher
Gabriel frowned and looked away as though Xander’s rule breaking was catching. Xander laughed. They went out the front doors and Xander led the way around the house.
“Sure you won’t change your mind?” Gabriel asked.
“Yeah, go on. I won’t be long. Want me to bring you a tart?”
“Why not? Then we can both be in trouble.”
When his brother was out of sight Xander hunted around the base of the wall until he found the loose panel. He popped the panel off, pulled his boot dagger, and crawled into the tunnel. He’d discovered it years ago while exploring on his own. Even Gabriel didn’t know about his secret place.
Xander crawled down the tunnel, dagger held in a firm grip; he’d seen a rat on an earlier trip and didn’t want to run into the beast again unarmed. The tunnel was cool and damp, fresh cobwebs brushed across his face. At the end of the tunnel Xander gathered his legs under him and stood up, lifting the trapdoor.
He found himself in a large room surrounded by sacks of flower, sugar and potatoes. Careful remain silent Xander set the trapdoor aside and tiptoed to the storage room door. Through the crack the cook’s off key singing grated in his ears. The man was completely tone deaf. He stopped singing and Xander opened the door a couple inches. The cook was bent over taking the tarts out of the oven. He closed the door before the cook turned around, not long now.
Gorn and Ick appeared beside the human mercenaries their master sent. They were a quarter mile from the knight’s estate in a clearing in the forest. They had orders to kill everyone, level the place, and bring back the key fragment. The first two tasks would be simple for the demon led force, but the third would be harder. The chest was shielded, protecting the fragment from detection.
“I will begin my search,” Ick said. He flew away, turning invisible as he went.
Gorn looked down at the mass of humanity before him. He projected his thoughts into their puny minds. Go. Kill everyone and take whatever you like.
The mercenaries drew their weapons and charged toward the estate. Gorn followed behind to discourage any retreat and to slaughter any survivors. It took only minutes for the mercenaries to clear the forest and seconds after that a shout went up from one of the sharp eyed soldiers patrolling the estate.
The soldiers gathered in front of the largest building, forming a tight defensive line. More soldiers gathered into the formation, ready to repel the mercenaries. Gorn allowed himself a toothy smile. The human’s discipline would make his task easier.
When the trickle of solders stopped the demon gathered his power and hurled a ball of fire at the massed formation. It exploded on impact, bodies, some in pieces, some whole; all charred and dead went flying. With their formation broken the mercenaries fell on the survivors without mercy. Behind them the building burned.
* * *
Alexandra came running downstairs when she heard the explosion. She reached the entryway just as two score soldiers led by Sergeant Marcus burst through and slammed the door behind them. “What’s going on?”
“We’re under attack,” Marcus said. “The bandits are led by a demon.”
“A demon?” She arched a disbelieving eyebrow.
“I know not what else to call the beast, my lady. When we formed our defensive line it hurled a ball of fire that near roasted me where I stood.”
She raised a hand to her mouth. “Gods, the boys. Has anyone seen them?”
One of the solders looked up from barricading the door. “I saw master Gabriel headed toward the lake earlier, my lady.”
“Xander?”
He shook his head.
“Xander’s a bright lad,” Marcus said. “He’ll find a place to hide until we clear this mess up.”
* * *
Xander grabbed a pair of tarts then the house shook. Flames burst through the windows. He dropped the tarts and ran back into the closet. In the distance men shouted and steel rang on steel. He frowned, it sounded like they were under attack.
Flames fully engulfed the kitchen. It was time to go. Xander went back into the crawlspace, not bothering with the trapdoor, if someone found his secret so be it. He crawled down the short tunnel, coughing from the smoke that leaked through the floor boards. Light from the exit filled the end of the tunnel. Something crunched. He looked up as a piece of floor gave way, crashed down clipping the side of his head. Everything spun then went dark.
* * *
Gabriel leapt to his feet when the explosion rattled the trees. In the distance smoke rose, thick and black from home. He dropped his pole and ran. He reached the edge of the woods in record time. His home in flames stopped him as surely as if he’d run into a brick wall. The main house burned, flames leapt from the windows, and black smoke billowed out from under the eaves. In pockets here and there soldiers battled ragged men he’d never seen before.
Silhouetted by the burning house was a horrific creature beyond anything Gabriel had ever imagined. The mere sight of it rooted him in place, his heart racing, pulse pounding in his ears. It had broad wings like a bat and black scales covered every inch. One soldier struck it and sparks flew but the monster never flinched. It tore the man’s chest open with talons like kitchen knives.
Gabriel wanted to run over there and kill that monster; he wanted to scream for his mother and brother who burned to death; he wanted to do anything but stand there like a coward and watch men he’d know his whole life fight and be slaughtered, but he couldn’t move. Some force held him fast. He turned his head and took in the panorama of death and destruction but he could do nothing except watch his world end.
After several minutes of watching horsemen came thundering down the road, on the lead horse he could just make out his father’s familiar cloak billowing. He tried to scream, to warn him to turn back, to run away, but he couldn’t make a sound. Not that it would have mattered. His father would no more run from battle then he would have cut his own throat. No matter the odds he would do his duty as a knight.
Father charged through the strangers, sword flashing. Three of the attackers were soon down. The monster chose that moment to turn its head toward the riders. It tossed the remains of a solder aside like so much garbage and tuned to his father.
Gabriel tried to scream a warning but Father seemed to see the beast coming. He whirled his sword over his head and urged his horse forward. Gabriel’s heart swelled and for a moment he allowed himself the lie that his father might defeat the beast. That happy fiction lasted only seconds. The monster snatched Father out of his saddle like he weighed nothing. Fire blazed from the creature’s hands and reduced Father to ash.
Tears streamed down Gabriel’s face and the battlefield blurred. Like a zombie he walked to a thick cluster of bushes and burrowed his way inside. He curled up in a ball and wept like a baby.
Chapter 8
Gabriel came awake to silence. He crawled out of his hiding place and rubbed his eyes. Whether he slept or passed out he couldn’t say. The main house still burned, but there was no sign of the monster or anything living. Bodies lay scattered about the grounds, many of them torn limb from limb. The barracks had collapsed and the rubble blazed away. The guest cottages looked intact but something had ripped the doors off.
He wandered the estate in a daze, his whole world in flames. His stomach clenched and if he’d had anything to eat in the last half a day he would have spilled it on the ground. He turned toward the back of the house then stopped. A horse snorted somewhere close by. The sound called to him and he had to leave, to get away from this horror.
He found a tan mare grazing near the storage shed. She didn’t have a mark on her and she still wore a saddle. She must have belonged to one of the soldiers that rode with Father though how she’d come through the battle unscathed he didn’t know.
Gabriel eased toward the mare, his hand held out for her to smell. “Easy, girl, easy.” She shied away from him.
“Easy, easy,” he moved closer, this time he managed to touch her muzzle before she pulled a
way. “It’s okay. What do you say we get out of here?”
He managed to get a hold of her reins. He patted her flank then swung up into the saddle. She threw her head and snorted but didn’t try to throw him, which was good since he doubted he had strength enough to hold on. He turned her around toward the road and tapped her flank with his heel. He kept her at an easy trot, not wanting to tire the battle worn horse.
An hour down the road from the estate they came upon a short, two wagon caravan. On the lead wagon a corpulent merchant in a tan robe and turban stood up as he approached. Gabriel waved and guided the mare over beside the wagon. “You’d best get moving, sir. There’s a group of bandits in the area.”
The merchant raised an eyebrow. “How would you know that?”
Gabriel nodded back over his shoulder. “My home is, was, back that way. It’s burning; you’ll see the smoke shortly if you keep going north.”
The merchant frowned. After the silence stretched over a minute Gabriel said. “Believe me or not, I don’t care.”
He urged the mare on, hoping to cover a little more distance before dark. He glanced over his shoulder, the merchant still stood, looking back at him. He felt a chill at the hungry gleam in the man’s eyes. Gabriel looked away and urged his horse along a little faster.
It was almost dark and Gabriel had only covered about half the distance to Lord’s Way. His eyes drooped and his jaw cracked when he yawned. He needed to find a place to camp before he fell out of the saddle. A little way off the road he found a clearing. It wasn’t much and he didn’t have anything to eat or to make a fire with so he did his best to rub the mare down, wrapped himself up in her saddle blanket, and closed his eyes.
He opened his eyes to the sun shining in his face; he’d slept well past dawn. He got up and stretched, everything seemed to be working so he ran a hand through his hair and tossed the blanket over the mare.
She sniffed at him and he patted her flank. “Go morning to you too.”
He finished saddling her and swung up on her back. With a click of his tongue and a nudge with the reins he guided her back to the rode. The rest of the morning passed without them seeing a soul. They reached the gates before noon and were waved through by a yawning guard. Inside the gates Gabriel guided the mare down the main street past shops and houses; people walked and rode past him. Gabriel had only gone into the city twice with his parents, but the lord’s mansion was in the center of the city so it wasn’t like he could get lost.
A ten foot high iron fence topped with razor sharp spikes surrounded the mansion and grounds. The mansion was only a hundred feet from the gate but in the back there was a huge lawn with a croquet field and picnic area. There was only one gate and it was guarded by two men who crossed their halberds in front him when he rode up. “State your business,” the left hand guard said. By the sound of him he couldn’t have cared less.
“I need to speak to Lord St. Jaques. His country estate has been burned to the ground. Please let me through.”
The two guards exchanged looks then started laughing. When they’d gotten a hold of themselves the same guard said, “Get along, youngster. You’ll not be bothering his lordship today.”
Gabriel gaped. Of all the problems he’d foreseen the guards laughing him off the grounds hadn’t crossed him mind. “My name is Gabriel Kane. My father is, was, Lord Knight Jeremiah Kane. He was killed defending the estate. Please, I need to see Lord St. Jaques.”
“Listen kid, if you don’t get out of here right now, I’m going to have you thrown in a cell down at Watch Headquarters.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I see Lord St. Jaques.” Gabriel shouted back.
The guards started for him but they’d only taken a couple steps when a voice from behind them said, “What’s all this racket?”
Gabriel looked up from the guards and spotted the familiar gray haired figure of John Smithers, Uncle Duncan’s butler, in his spotless, black servant’s uniform. “John, thank the gods. I need to talk to Uncle Duncan.”
“Master Gabriel,” John came down from the entryway to the gate. “What a surprise. Is your father with you?”
“You know this kid, Mr. Smithers?” the same guard asked. He appeared to be the only one of the two able to speak. Both men did a credible job of looking nervous.
“Of course, Master Gabriel is the son of one of Lord St. Jaques most loyal retainers. Open the gate you buffoon. The boy looks like he’d been through the war.”
The old servant was close to the truth. Gabriel dismounted and led the mare through the gate. “Thanks John, is Uncle Duncan around? I really need to talk to him.”
“I’ve just set the master’s lunch table. I was picking some fresh flowers when I heard the commotion. What was that about, anyway?”
“A misunderstanding, nothing to concern yourself with.” Gabriel glanced back at the guards who both sagged with relief.
John looked back as well. “No more shouting from either of you. What will the neighbors think?”
John turned back to Gabriel. “Would you care to join Lord St. Jaques for lunch? I can set another place.”
“Thank you, John, I’m starving. Is Uncle Duncan in the dining room?”
Gabriel dropped the mare’s reins and raced up the steps to the front door. He ignored the rich surroundings of the entryway and turned left toward the dining room. He found Duncan alone, seated at the head of a table big enough to seat fifty.
“Uncle Duncan!” Gabriel ran over and the words started spilling out.
“Slow down, son, slow down.” Duncan put his hands on Gabriel’s shoulders. “What happened at the estate?”
“We were attacked. There were men and they were led by a monster. It was huge and it killed Father. Everything was burning.” Tears streamed down Gabriel’s face.
Duncan wrapped his arms around him. Gabriel buried his face in the older man’s chest and cried. “It’ll be alright. I’ll send a patrol out and we’ll get this straightened out.”
Gabriel only half registered the words, instead letting the rumble in Uncle Duncan’s chest sooth him. What happened next was a blur. He remembered eating until he thought he’d burst then being led off by John. The next thing he knew he found himself in a wonderfully soft feather bed with a canopy over head. He felt better. Just telling Uncle Duncan what happened eased the pain a little. He hated to admit the crying helped too.
* * *
He sat up and found his boots beside the bed, cleaned and polished. His stomach growled, perhaps he could scrounge up some leftovers. He climbed out of bed, put on his boots, and slipped out of the bedroom. He stood in a short hall paneled in what looked like oak. There was another door across from him closed tight. To his right was a wall, so he turned left and came to a railing that looked down on the entry hall, a curved staircase on either wall led downstairs. He took the right hand stairs down and at the bottom tried to remember the best way to get to the kitchen.
Before he could make up his mind someone shouted. It was coming from his left so he went that way. There was an open door off the entry way leading to another hall.
“Adopt him? You can’t be serious.” That was Aunt Jolie’s shrill voice. It was coming from behind a partially closed door halfway down the hall. Could Uncle Duncan really mean to adopt him? Gabriel moved closer.
“I’m dead serious,” Duncan said. “Jeremiah saved my life and never asked for a thing. He died in my service along with most of his family.”
Gabriel’s chest tightened. They were talking about him, arguing truth be told.
“I’ll be damned before I see the boy turned out on the street. I owe Jeremiah better than that.”
“But he’s a commoner. What will the other nobles think?”
“I don’t give a damn what your holier than thou friends think. Aristocrat or not I’ve never met a more noble man than Jeremiah Kane. I will see honor served.”
Gabriel sighed. He hated hearing them argue over him. He pushed the door open and walk
ed into a small sitting room, cutting off Aunt Jolie’s next tirade.
“Up at last,” Duncan said, smiling.
Gabriel nodded. “I heard you arguing. I don’t want to cause any trouble. If you have a spare sword and coat of mail I imagine I can find work as a caravan guard. Father taught me enough sword play to get by.”
“Nonsense. Listen to me, boy. I don’t care if every nobleman in the land thinks I’ve lost my mind. As long as this is my house you’ll have a place here. When I pass to the next world I’ll have to face your father and I’ll be damned if I’m going to it after turning out his only surviving son.”
Jolie threw up her hands. “So you’ve decided. Fine.” She got up and stormed out of the room.
When she’d gone Gabriel said. “I sorry you got into trouble on my account.”
Duncan grinned and for a moment Gabriel thought of his brother and a pain shot through him. “That woman is always mad at me over something. At least this time it’s over something that really matters.”
Gabriel nodded and turned toward the door.
“Gabriel.” he turned back to face Duncan. “I loved them too. If you ever want to talk come to me.”
Gabriel nodded again and stepped out into the hall. He found Morgrin waiting for him.
“So we’re to be brothers?” Morgrin said.
“So Uncle Duncan says.”
“Listen to me,” Morgrin leaned in so their noses almost touched. “We will never be brothers whatever he may say.”
Gabriel sighed. “Something we can agree on at last.” He brushed past Morgrin and continued on his way to the kitchen.
Chapter 9
Gabriel blocked weapon Master Zin Se’s overhand slash and countered with a quick thrust to the stomach. The nimble master leapt back, easily avoiding the attack. When Gabriel took a step forward to reengage he held up his left hand. “Enough for today.”
