Benedict

by Jackson Bennett

  Leaving the jetty they approached the nearest house, a two-storey building made from blocks of rough-hewn lava, similar in design and construction to their own. As they approached on feet that seemed stealthier than they should have been in the unnatural silence, they could see a steady light that streamed from the ground floor window adjacent to the front door.

  They approached the door cautiously and knocked quietly.

  No answer came.

  They knocked louder.

  Still there was no answer.

  They moved over to the window and cautiously peered through, trying to ensure that they didn’t give themselves away, but despite their best efforts they were unable to see anything as the heavy, partially drawn curtains obscured any real view of the room beyond.

  Moving back to the door Richard quietly lifted the latch and with great difficulty pushed the unyielding door inwards. Under normal circumstances he would never enter another person’s home uninvited, limiting his night time excursions to find objects belonging to businesses and warehouses, but then he reasoned to himself, these were not ordinary circumstances. As the door opened a steady light filled the doorway, leaving the darkness outside untouched, almost as if it had never been opened.

  Standing there in the darkness seemingly beyond the reach of the light, they could see that the steady light they had seen escaping the thick curtains was coming from the fire that filled the hearth in the far wall with an eerily still glow. In front of this hearth the terracotta floor tiles were covered with an intricate blue and yellow rug that looked as if it should have been out of the reach of a simple fisherman. On this beautifully ornate rug was placed an old battered rocking chair, in which was sat an old man, pipe raised to his mouth a cloud of smoke billowing around him. On the floor at his feet, curled up on an ancient moth eaten blanket, lay a greyish dog, as equally ancient and moth eaten as the blanket on which it lay. Both were staring directly at them, the old man glancing sideways and the dog, its head raised and tipped to the side as if it was trying to figure out if they were a threat or not.

  “Sorry to disturb you sir,” Richard said offering up his hands in a gesture of platitude and non-aggression, his voice seeming overly loud in his own ears.

  The old man and the dog just sat there starring straight at them not moving a muscle or uttering a single sound, not even when Mark waved his hand in greeting.

  Edging sideways to the left of the man’s view and entering the house, Mark attempted to gain his attention; there was no change from him or the dog. They just kept their gaze fixed straight ahead on Richard and the open door.

  Richard followed Mark into the house and approached the motionless figures; waving his hand in front of the old man’s eyes. Still there was no response; it was as if the man and dog were somehow frozen. Expecting it to be cold he placed a hand on the old man’s skin, which was surprisingly warm to the touch, yet at the same time rigid and un-yielding as if he had tensed his muscles beneath, but when he felt for a pulse, just to make sure that he was still alive, there was none.

  “This is getting odder by the minute,” Remarked Richard, explaining his findings to Mark. “He can’t be dead or asleep for that matter, look at the way he’s sitting.”

  Keeping his distance from the old man and dog, as if they would somehow suddenly move, Mark made his way to the stairs that lay to the right hand side of the room. “Let’s check upstairs,” he whispered glancing up the dark stairs and at the steady light that could be seen at the top, the goose bumps on his arms beginning to intensify. Richard nodded agreement and following Mark he headed up, glancing over his shoulder one last time at the unnaturally still figures before disappearing into the gloom of the stairwell.

  What they found upstairs tightened the already tight knot in the pit of Richard’s stomach and confirmed in his own mind that which he was beginning to suspect.

  In the main bedroom, that overlooked the back of the house, lit by the steady golden light from an oil lamp, there was an old woman, presumably the wife of the man down stairs. She was leaning over a washbowl in the process of pouring some water into it from a delicate white jug that had sprays of beautiful red, five-leafed flowers painted on its side. The old woman was perfectly still, as if she had frozen at the sound of the brothers approach, but like her the water was perfectly still too, frozen in the air. It felt to Richard as if someone had painted a picture of a scene before them, capturing every nuance in perfect 3D and rendering every colour to perfection.

  Richard turned to Mark his voice full of wonder and awe. “Someone has managed to freeze everything. I didn’t think that kind of magic was possible.”

  “Why aren’t we caught up in it though?” Mark asked, his own thought’s and voice echoing those of Richard.

  Richard placed his hand to his chest where the warmth of the star charm throbbed gently against his skin beneath his clothes. “Is your star charm warm?” he asked.

  Mark pulled open his shirt and pulled forth the charm, which had been resting between layers of clothing. “How did you know?” he queried with his attention on the gently throbbing star.

  “Mine became warm when the dome of light appeared over Volin, when we left it stopped and when we entered here it began again. Somehow these are preventing us from freezing like the others,” he explained, motioning towards the old lady.

  “So Benedict knew what was going to happen? But why us?” Mark asked aloud, meaning it to be more of a statement than a question.

  “I don’t know,” Richard confessed, replacing his pendent back inside his clothes. “But let’s be thankful that we have them. Come on let’s get out of here, we need to find out what’s going on back home.” He made the sign to ward off evil, which somehow seemed appropriate and left the room.

  They headed for the ground floor; each wrapped in their own thought’s and bypassing the old man and dog, started across the rug covered floor to the door, which they had left open when they had entered. As they neared it with Mark in the lead, he put up his hand in the motion to stop, arm raised and fist clenched tightly, one of many that had been taught to him and used frequently in the city militia, and cocked his head to one side in much the same way as the frozen dog behind them. When the sound next came they both heard it, like crunching gravel underfoot, and it was just outside the door.

  Caught up in the discoveries that they had just made, Richard hadn’t been aware of the increase in the itching of his arms, which had been crawling since they had entered the village dome.

  Grabbing Mark by the shoulder he motioned for him to sit down on one of the high backed wooden chairs that sat around the outside of the room. Then adopting a pose that looked as if he had been frozen mid movement he sat as still as he possibly could and watched as Mark did the same.

  A dark shadow filled the doorway, seeming to suck in to itself every particle of light and emitting a menace in its stead. From what little Richard could see out of the corner of his eye, he knew that he had seen this shadow before, back in the arena when he had aided Benedict. His heart felt like it froze, it had known who he was, for it had planted the dead body of the Voldiner in his home, surely it would recognise him now.

  He slowly eased his right hand which was out of view of the Shadow towards his short sword, ready to draw it forth.

  The shadow glided into the house, so smoothly that the only clue they had that it had feet was the soft clip, clip on the tiled floor, and paused. The amount of magic it was emanating was awesome, yet limited to a very small area, which was why it had been almost too late when Richard had detected it. Richard had never been as close to this much magic as he was now, not even at the stadium.

  Its cowed head tilted from side to side, seeming to scan the room, the shadowy recesses where its eyes should have been, boring into everything. It seemed to Richard that its gaze lingered over long on the two brothers taking in ever
y detail of the pair and storing it for use at a later date. His finger flexed and crept closer to the blade.

  Turning. No turning wasn’t quite the right word, folding in on itself and facing the opposite way that was it; it left the building and was gone, the itching fading with its departure and the intensity of the light appearing fuller.

  Richard sat perfectly still as the itching faded in intensity, perplexed. Why had it not recognised him? Or had it? Or was there more than one! The thought was disturbing to say the least, for one of these with that much magic would be deadly, yet two or maybe more! Despite himself, Richard shuddered.

  Let’s move he motioned to Mark, not wanting to make a sound and wanting to get out of there and back to the safety of the volcanic hills.

  They both rose on silent feet and headed for the door, Richard leading. He cautiously peered through the open door into the dark street beyond and listened. To his eyes and ears all seemed clear and there was no sign of the increased magic that he had detected before. Lifting his arm and pointing out of the village and in the direction of the lake where they had laid the Voldiner to rest, they hurried off on silent feet keeping to the shadows their eyes and ears alert for the slightest sound or movement, one hand clamped firmly to the hilt of their swords.

  Passing the barrier, this time without thought, they entered the midday sunshine; the feeling of the cool ice touched breeze from the mountains on their skin was like the gentle touch of a mother’s hand to a distraught child. Leaving Voldith behind, their racing hearts began to slow, despite the uphill trek to the volcanic lake along the shadowed volcanic scared landscape.

  ***

  The Shadow detached its self from the shadowed walls of the home opposite where it had waited, and watched as two figures passed the barrier and headed into the surrounding hills.

  This was something that had not been anticipated.

  For him and his brethren not to be caught up in the time distortion, he needed to wear the magic charms of his kind, or like the blessed few of his kin who had the power, had to expend huge amounts of magic, yet these two expended none and he could not detect anything magical about them at all.

  He would have to tell his brethren and seek their council, but for now he would follow them and observe.

  Chapter Five

  The Watching Shadows

  The midday sun was high above them by the time they reached the lake in the depths of which they had lain to rest the body of the Voldiner, its radiance barely able to contend with the bitter winter wind that now whipped at their clothes.

  Lowering their heads they drank deeply of the cold, crisp clean waters in an effort to remove the clawing dust from their thirst wracked throats, with no mind to the fact that the Voldiner lay trapped within. With their thirst sated they sat in silence for several minutes, both lost in their thoughts.

  “We need to eat something Mark,” said Richard as he raised himself to his haunches, his stomach growling at the mention of food.

  “Should we head back to the city? Or do we stay away?” asked Mark, starring at the huge dome that dominated the nearby skyline.

  “Our only chance of finding out what’s going on here is to go back to the city and see what we can find. If we’re free from this magic then maybe others are to,” Richard replied knowing that it would be highly unlikely that someone else had one of Benedict’s star charms.

  Taking one last drink from the lake they headed back towards the domed city.

  ***

  Deep beneath the surface of the icy cold waters, the dead eyes of the Voldiner looked heavenwards from his silver tomb in which it had been laid to rest. Around him there was movement, unseen in the impenetrable darkness.

  ***

  When they finally reached the city walls the sun was low on the horizon, its fading light reflecting orange and red on the underside of the clouds that were beginning to gather in the west, an ominous sign to those that believed in such things, heralding the approach of dusk. Their legs were heavy with fatigue as the pangs of hunger wracked their stomachs.

  On their return journey they had decided that to return to their home and the place of the Voldiner’s apparent murder wouldn’t be the safest of options, so re-entering the city via the tunnel beneath the Maggoty Apple they cautiously headed for the watch house where Mark had been on duty.

  The dark eerily still nightscape offered them all the shadows they required to move stealthily through the city, and providing them with sanctuary on the several occasions they had turned down side streets to see shadowy figures, some chanting and emanating huge amounts of magic, crossing the junctions ahead followed closely by between six to ten heavily armed men.

  One of these occasion’s saw the black cowed figure start in their direction along the street, and as they stood there in the shadows, their hearts beating faster and their swords prepared to strike, they noticed that despite the fact that the figure was coming towards them there seemed to be no discernible movement, as if it were floating on a cushion of air. It was barely ten foot away from them when it turned to its right and disappeared down an obscured side alley, leaving the brothers sweating and breathing heavily having thought that they had been discovered. Richard had felt no sense of magic before and after it had vanished from sight, and this made him uneasy, for they could have been upon it before they had known and only luck had prevented that. Then creeping from shadow to shadow they continued on their way, whilst above them the deep shadows amongst the roofs shifted slightly.

  Several more times they had to stop and remain silent within the shadows, waiting for the enemy, for that was what they had come to think of them as, to pass them by.

  Finally they reached the watch house that marked the beginning of the merchant quarter of the city, which like everywhere else in the city, was silent and still. They entered the long single story building cautiously and found, like in the village of Voldith, that everyone was frozen in whatever task they had been undertaking, whether it was eating, washing or playing cards.

  Something wasn’t right thou.

  They stood and stared at the scene around and it took a while for it to come to him, but when it did Richard’s heart almost stopped.

  Every single man was dead.

  They were frozen in their tasks yes, but each man had had either his throat slit or had been stabbed in one of the vital organs and some in several.

  Anger flared inside Richard.

  Mark too could see that something was wrong with scene and when Richard pointed it out to him his eyes filled with sadness, which quickly turned to anger.

  Richard placed a hand on Marks shoulder. “Do you know their families?” he asked assuming they were his men.

  “No,” replied Mark, “These are not from my unit. My men were attached to another unit and sent on a training exercise to the west two days ago. I was kept here so that I could receive special training,” he added in justification.

  Recovering from the shock of what lay before them, and bringing their anger under control they started to look around, gathering weapons and supplies, eager to be gone from this carnal house to be.

  Richard passed through a door at the back of the room and into the kitchen to gather some food. There sat at the table, with a spoon raised to her mouth, was the cook her lips pursed ready to gingerly taste the full bowl of hot vegetable soup sat on the table before her; he knew it was hot by the steam that hung frozen in the air above it like an early morning spring mist on the western beaches. To Richard’s relief she appeared unharmed.

  Richard stuck his finger in the bowl, “Sorry cook,” he said as he raised his finger to his mouth just as Mark entered the kitchen.

  “Everyone is the same,” he said indicating with his thumb the other rooms that he had checked. “But what I don’t understand is why they are like this now when they were ok when I lef
t here earlier.”

  “It must have been that light that passed through us last night, everything seems to have stopped at about that time wouldn’t you agree?” said Richard, dipping his finger back into the bowl of broth.

  “You know, now that you come to mention it, I think your right,” answered Mark drool beginning to form in his mouth at the sight of the soup.

  “The next question then is where is the magic coming from, and why?” said Richard. “It seemed to be coming from the centre of the town, where that column of light is, but to get there would be too risky as these “shadows,” would surely be concentrated around such a powerful source of magic and the darkness will only offer us so much protection, but not enough to get close I fear.”

  Mark just nodded and with that thought in their heads they gathered some food together from the larder and sat down at the table to eat. When they had finished they discussed what they would do next.

  “To be honest I think we should try and find Benedict, he seemed to know something was happening before he disappeared,” Richard began.

  “But where do we start looking for him? And what about mum?” queried Mark.

  “To the north, far to the north that’s where I believe he re-appeared, so unless we come across information otherwise I think that’s where we should head,” Richard replied. “As to mum, she will be ok. The cook is ok and so were the old man and woman in Voldith, so I think they are only killing the city guard. Besides we need to move fast,” he added, implying that she would slow them down.

  “And how do we get there?” Mark asked, knowing that his brother was right, but still feeling uncomfortable about leaving her behind. “No-one has been there in living memory, the mountains bar our way not to mention the ice and snow.”

  “We can start to walk and hope to come across some horses that aren’t frozen like the ones around here, and then make our way as best we can, for everything outside of these domes seems to be unaffected,” Richard replied. “As for the mountains, snow and ice I do not know,” he added shrugging in shoulders.