by Amanda Grace
Unfolding the map on the desk, Danni oriented herself relative to where they needed to go. She scanned through the legend of the town's many shops until she found a outfitter in the general direction of where they would need to go. She made a mental list of the items they would need as she folded the map and returned it to her bag.
They took one final pass through the room ensuring that they hadn't missed anything, and then they were off. They each grabbed a few pieces of fruit from a bowl on the dining table as they passed, heading for the door; it would have to suffice as their breakfast.
Hand in hand they made their way down the still deserted streets. Every now and then they would stop to admire the sunrise, or the cheerful cry of a nightingale. They stopped briefly in the town square, sitting on a small bench to admire a statue of a fallen war hero. His horse rearing in fear, his sabre gallantly willing his forces forward. Before continuing they read the small bronze plaque which had long ago gone green with age, much as the statue above it.
The name immediately jumped out at the both of them as a distant relative of Sebastian's. He had mentioned several times to them both that his family had been deeply rooted in the surrounding region, though he had never mentioned the title of nobility, which had been bestowed upon his family.
The warm sun had finally made its way into the early morning sky. They stopped for a quick café latte across from the cathedral, as the outfitter wouldn't be open for at least another half an hour. As they sat sipping from their mugs and nibbling on their fruit Father Dietrich propped the one of the doors of the cathedral open. He glanced in their direction smiling affectionately and waving. Both Danni and Carlsson returned the gesture in kind.
When they got to the small outfitters shop the door was just being unlocked, the aging proprietor welcoming them enthusiastically. From the exterior the store was misleading, as it seemed much too small to offer much of a variety of equipment, but once inside the walls were covered in numerous different types and styles of gear. Dozens of racks of clothes, both men and women's, were scattered around on display. Toward the shop's small entrance was a case filled with different styles of knives and survival gear.
Carlsson made his way through the clothes, while Danni reviewed some of the gear in the glass display case in the front of the shop. She asked to see one of the larger bowie knives from the case. Though she had her pistol, Carlsson was defenceless, and should something happen she knew he wouldn't have a chance without some form of protection. Quietly she motioned to the shopkeeper, the man leaned in closely.
"I'm was going to buy this as a present for my friend, but he insisted on coming with me today," she whispered, "I'd like to buy this while he tries on clothes." It wasn't that she didn't want Carlsson to know she was buying the knife; it was more that she'd rather not deal with his protesting until it was too late for anything to be done about it. The owner nodded subtly, peering over Danni's shoulder – Carlsson had disappeared to the lone dressing room. The man rang up the knife, and Danni paid him in cash. She slipped the weapon and its sheath into her waistband, opposite the gun, and tucked her jacket over the bulk so as not to draw his attention.
Waiting on Carlsson to finish, she began trying on different pairs of hiking boots. Her green Converse weren't going to be enough for the hike. They didn't have as many options to choose from as she would have liked, but was able to find a pair that fit her foot well, and wouldn't require much effort to break-in. She'd had her share of blisters in the army, and it was something she wanted to avoid if at all possible. Finally she grabbed two small flashlights off of a hook, and a package of batteries from a nearby display.
When Carlsson finally returned from the dressing room he looked nothing as he had before. Danni gasped slightly to herself, this was a side of him she had never seen. At the university he was always in three-piece suits and ties, he looked astute and well educated. She had always joked that he looked ready for an adventure in the library. But now standing in front of her was a man rugged and trim, wild and adventurous. In his suits he had never looked especially muscular, but now it was apparent that he invested time in going to the gym.
"You ready," he asked walking over to where she was sitting. She nodded.
"We're going to be headed up toward the lake…" pausing, snapping his fingers at Danni in an effort to ask for help. The shop's owner rang up each of the tags, which Carlsson had removed in the dressing room.
"Lake Seewald," she finished for him.
"Right, Lake Seewald," he smiled in her direction, "You wouldn't happen to know how we could best get there from here would you? We're visiting from out of town and came in on the train."
The man stopped for a moment thinking, "Well… In the winter we have a van to take cross country skiers and people wanting to snow shoe up the mountain. If you both can wait about fifteen minutes for my son to arrive, I'll gladly give you a ride to the trail head."
The two thanked the man profusely, and paid for their gear. They told the man they'd be waiting out front. Outside Carlsson worked on stuffing his clothes into his shoulder bag, which had already been rather full. Danni giggled at his attempt to cram everything into the small bag, and graciously offered to carry his shoes for him. As they waited for their ride up the mountain, she diligently watched the streets grow crowded.
It wasn't long before the elderly man from the shop pulled around in an old beat up white van, the engine sputtering and spitting exhaust. Reluctantly both Carlsson and Danni climbed into the back seat thankful they had a ride and wouldn't be required to walk. Despite its condition, they both knew it was better than hiking the additional three and a half or so kilometers to the trailhead.
The van slowly climbed its way up the steep mountain road, a large dust cloud building behind it. The gravel path wound back and forth snaking sharply up the mountain, climbing ever higher above the valley and town below.
The short drive took almost half an hour due to the condition of the road, the age of the van, and the sheer increase in elevation. The trailhead was a small gravel parking lot, encircled by an old split rail fence. There were a few signs pointing toward multiple different trails, each disappearing into the woods off in different directions. Danni and Carlsson thanked the man for offering them the ride, and confirmed they would call about an hour before needing picked up. Dust and rocks flew as the van pulled away.
Waiting until the van was out of sight, Danni pulled the knife from her waist. "Kai," she started, tossing the knife in his direction as he turned, "in case we get separated or something happens, we'll both need some protection. I bought that for you down in the village." Carlsson turned the knife in his fingers, not exactly sure what to do with it.
"Thanks," he mumbled realizing there was no point in protesting the purchase now. He clipped the large knife securely to his belt.
Danni checked the GPS on her phone one last time before shutting it down. After these last few days the battery had finally begun to run low. They found the appropriate trail, and began making the three and a half kilometre hike toward the lakeshore. The trail was narrow, winding its way through groves of thick aspens, large open fields, and dense coniferous patches of forest. The hike itself wasn't especially strenuous, save for the few times they were forced to climb their way over a few steep rock ledges.
Danni had led the way for most of the wandering trek through the woods, though with the lake not far ahead, Carlsson decided to take the lead. When the trees final broke the pair stood atop a high bluff overlooking a pristine Lake Seewald. For a moment they stood in awe of the beauty surrounding them, the lake's motionless surface perfectly reflecting the rugged mountains.
"It isn't quite like anything you'd ever find in a library is it Kai?" Danni joked giving him a slight push.
"Hey… Don't be talking bad about the library. It's like my second home!" He smiled playfully over at her, and she nodded in agreement.
"Well, we're here. But we've got no idea what we're supposed to be looking f
or," Carlsson offered after a moment, with his hands resting on his hips, surveying the surrounding hillsides.
"Well, the cross on fresco appeared to be closer to a cove at the south end of the lake," Danni recalled, pointing toward a dense thicket of trees surrounding a cove not far down the shore from where they currently were. "What do you say we start there?"
Carlsson agreed, and the two took off down the bluff toward the thick wooded area along the lake's snaking shoreline.
When they arrived at the densely wooded area it was clear they had found the correct spot. Just inside the tree line was an old cemetery, surrounded by a rusting and dilapidated iron fence, no taller than wait high. Each of the fence's aged iron pickets was topped by a rusting albeit ornate Fluor de Lys. The cemetery itself wasn't especially large, approximately half a hectare. Over time the delicately carved grave markers had begun to crumble; some of the stones were no longer readable. Though it appeared to be a normal, abandoned and forgotten cemetery, Carlsson quickly noticed several markings and signs indicating otherwise. Each new detail cemented further in his mind that this was the correct location.
Each of the odd details he noticed, he pointed out to Danni. He noted that the cross above the arched gated entrance hung upside down. That there were three small mausoleums having been constructed in the centre of the cemetery forming a triangle, with six black obelisks forming a line connecting each mausoleum to the next. Rather than the gravesites having been arranged in rows, they had been clustered together in circles of six. A statue of a whitewashed saint stood guard just inside the gate, and though it was old, if you knew which details to look for it would have been clear that it was a rather well-crafted likeness of the fallen apostle Judas.
The rusted gate wailed as Danni pulled it open. The dead leaves crumbled and cracked under each heavy footstep. The cemetery was unusually still. They wandered through the plots noting the several different names and titles of nobility. Curiously each readable tombstone noted the same month and year of death – June 1721.
Carlsson stood before the furthest mausoleum reading the inscription carved neatly into the bleach white granite. He called for Danni to join him. It was the tomb of Maximilian Christoff.
"It looks like Sebastian's family was more involved with The Order than even he knew," he said pointing toward the name on the tomb and scenes carved into the marble flanking each side of the entrance. "That said judging from the dates, I would say Maximilian was a member of the original Order, before they had a shift in ideology. Before they developed a taste of ritualistic murder."
Danni nodded in agreement, adding, "I think it's probably safe to say this whole town has a deeper connection with The Order than we ever thought."
The loud crack of an assault rifle echoed through the forest, the bullet ricocheting off the marble wall a few inches from where they stood. Instinctively Danni grabbed Carlsson and dive to the ground, pulling him behind the cover of a large tombstone. Peeking out from their cover she pulled her pistol from her waistband, checking its load and removing the safety.
She peeked around the mossy stone tablet, "two men, robes and hoods, flanking the gate. One has a rifle, looks like an AR-15, and the other… looks like two pistols." Another shot rang out, sending her back behind her cover.
Carlsson had removed the knife from its sheath. His only thought was how worthless a knife was when you were being shot at. His hands trembled slightly. "Any ideas," he asked, peeking over the tombstone himself.
"Yeah, trade," she said pulling knife from his hand, thrusting the pistol in his direction. "When I say, I want you to come up firing, I'm going to use the distraction to try and get into a better position to surprise them. Remember you only have seventeen rounds, make each one count, and don't fire blindly."
He nodded, gripping the firearm nervously. Up until now he'd never before held a gun, let alone fired one. He smiled, mostly out of fear. It was the only sign he could muster to show he was ready.
"On three," she double-checked the men's position, realizing that they'd made their way into the cemetery, and was moving slowly in their direction. "Three, two, one, now!"
Carlsson spun to one knee taking aim at the closer of the two men, though both were still thirty or forty meters away. He fired two shots. The two men faltered, ducking for cover. They hadn't expected the pair to have been armed. Yet despite their carrying an overwhelming amount of weaponry, they didn't return fire.
Danni had waited until he pulled the trigger before scurrying across the ground and behind the mausoleum. She peeked around the corner, seeing the two men beginning to collect themselves. One peeked from behind his cover. Two more shots rang out, and he ducked again for protection. She moved quickly, taking cover behind a crumbling black obelisk.
Carlsson changed positions, moving from one tombstone to another, hoping to maintain at least a slight advantage over the two. He had missed low and right with each of his first four shots, but now his trembling hands held steady. His veins pulsed with adrenaline.
Off to his right one of the men stood, firing his pistols toward where had previously been hiding. Crouching Carlsson gently squeezed the trigger, another two rounds echoed through the forest. Both shots struck the man in the chest. The impact of the bullets caused the man to spin around as he fell crumpling to the ground.
Danni, having continued to stealthily make her way along the ground, was now only a few meters from the second man. She remained hunched behind a large marble tombstone, using it as cover so as not to draw his attention. She had used the cover of fire to get as near as she could, and the man was oblivious to her position. The knife weighed heavy in her hands. She could hear the leaves rustle, and knew he was moving in her direction. She gripped the knife tightly and prepared for the worst.
The man rounded the corner, and she leapt taking advantage of his surprise. As she jumped she grabbed the rifle with her free hand and knocked the gun to the ground a few paces away. The two fell backward intertwined with each other and struggling to get the upper hand. Danni tried to use the knife in an effort to gain his submission, but he was stronger than she had expected, and was able to successfully and hastily wrestle the knife away from her.
Quickly her advantage had disappeared, and she struggled violently to regain control. Carlsson, unaware of the situation happening to the left and around the mausoleum, crouched low to the ground, using each grave marker as cover. Slowly he made his way to where the man he shot should be laying. His gun ever at the ready. He rounded a final marker seeing the man lying on the ground. He pointed the gun in his direction and crept closer. He prodded the man with his hand, but he didn't move. It was then that he began to feel sick, the realization setting in that he had killed a man, regardless of the situation.
The weight of the man atop her, had pinned Danni's legs beneath her. Her wrists held firm to the ground. She struggled violently, but wasn't making any progress. In an act of desperation she jerked her head violently forward, striking the man's nose with the brunt of her forehead.
The man's blood dripped from his broken nose down onto her face and hair. Stunned, his grip weakened, affording Danni the ability to be able to wrestle an arm free, striking the man across the jaw. He fell to her left, his loose hand grabbing for the knife and finding it.
He swung it violently in her direction, his blow being deflected by her arm. Her combat training was flooding back to her waves of memories, as she countered his every move with one of her own. Her heart raced, as she began to understand and grasp the true danger of the current struggle.
Using his weight against her, he had been able to climb back on top of her. He tried frantically to stab her with the knife. She gripped his wrists tightly, summoning every ounce of strength she had in her to hold the knife at bay.
As her strength began to falter a foot flew in out of nowhere, kicking the attacker in the side of the head and knocking him off from on top of her. Carlsson pointed the barrel of the gun squarely in the man's face
, shouting for him to remain still. He smiled sickly, blood running down the front of his face. He lunged to his right, rolling to his stomach and reaching for the rifle.
Two shots rang out. The man lay motionless on the ground, his hand resting on the handle of the gun, a pool of blood beginning to form beneath his lifeless body. Danni grabbed the rifle, and out of habit moved it out of his reach. She then rolled the man over, in order to check his pulse.
He was still alive, though only just barely. The bullets had entered his back, one between the fifth and sixth rib, the other shot through his abdomen. With each breath a soft gurgling came from the man's chest. Blood soaked his black robe.
"Who are you? Who sent you?" Danni hurriedly questioned hoping she could gather information before he died. Rather than answer the man smiled snidely, welcoming death.
He tried to laugh, but instead he coughed twice, blood spitting from his mouth. One of the man's lungs was filling with blood; slowly but surely he was drowning, right there before them. He struggled to take a few more shallow breaths and he was gone, his eyes growing dark and empty.
"Search the other body, I've got this one," Danni scowled in frustration. "Someone sent them here after us and we need to know who."
"Shouldn't we contact the police, avoid contaminating the scene?" Carlsson pressed.
"We could…" she hesitated, "but I don't take being shot at lightly. And honestly, I want to know the answers for myself, not wait on some investigation while we're still endanger." Carlsson conceded the point, and began to make his way back across the cemetery.
The two men were both of similar build, and appeared to be in their early forties. Their heads had been shaven, and they both had the same tattoo inked on the left side of their skulls, only visible when the area was shaven – it was a circle in which six arrows emerged from the centre. Under their robes they wore normal hiking gear. It was clear they hadn't wanted to be noticed or memorable in any way should they have met anyone else while on the trail.
