A Demon's Quest the Beginning of the End the Trilogy Box Set
Page 63
The mercenaries had enough of the intruders and began standing up one by one and unsheathing their weapons.
“Tough words, we’ll see about that.” The older mercenary countered, and he began moving towards them with his men following closely behind.
Yang, Vex, and Jyre did not move nor indicate that they were going to defend themselves until the mercenaries were within striking distance. They then took out their weapons and attacked.
It was over before the mercenaries knew what had happened. Yang used several feints to draw his opponent out of position enough to strike him in the stomach and throat, while Vex and Jyre made small work of the others, except for the old man, who they disarmed and kicked to the ground.
Yang walked over to join them. “As you were saying, you were going to do what?” Yang said.
“Please spare me, we didn’t mean to...”
The trio laughed at him, and then the merchant emerged from one of the wagons.
“What do you men want?” He asked Yang after seeing the carnage all about.
“We’ll deal with you in a second.” Yang held up his hand toward the merchant and silenced him. “Now pick him up.” He said to his bodyguards.
They took hold of his arms and roughly picked him up.
“You’re going to love this.” Yang said to the mercenary and patted his cheek several times and then walked back at least eight feet away.
The old man didn’t know what he was going to do, but had a feeling his life was about to end. With blinding speed, Yang twirled his spear around his body, over his head, behind his back, and then abruptly stopped the weapon in front of body and held it firmly with both hands. He smiled and said. “Now watch this.” He tensed his muscles, and the spear’s shaft lengthened until it tore through the man’s armor, abdomen, and out of his back carrying his innards along with it. The old man’s eyes widen in shock as he died. After the weapon retracted back to its original length, Yang looked over at the terrified merchant.
“Please take what you want just let us live.” The merchant pleaded.
“Oh we will, and since I am a man of my words then...” Yang’s words trailed off as he threw his spear at the merchant. The weapon plunged into his stomach and pinned his dying body next to the door. Fearful screamed then erupted from within the wagon.
“Good, he has some daughters.” He announced to his men, and they entered the wagon and that’s when the screams really started.
****
A few days after Yang and his men left the area, a holy fighter named Tracs stumbled upon the merchant’s camp. He saw dead bodies right away and quietly dismounted his gray mare. After placing his horned helmet on of his head and unsheathing his broad sword, he entered the encampment. Pots and other crockery were strewn about along with the bodies of men, woman, and children. He gazed upon their lifeless bodies, and was saddened and angry all at once by the slaughter. He was preoccupied determining who or what did this atrocity, when he heard a faint noise coming from within the wagon. He climbed the stairs and stopped just short of entering and listened for several minutes. What he heard from within was sporadic movement and not enough for someone who’d be stealing.
He stepped back from the door and said. “Who’s in there?”
At first, there was no reply then he heard a female’s voice crying out for help.
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.” She coughed in reply.
Tracs looked around once more and entered. Inside the dimly lit wagon, he saw the outline of a naked body towards the back and approached.
“Please don’t hurt me.” The women pleaded.
“I’m not here to hurt you. I want to help.” Tracs removed his gauntlets and helmet and knelt down.
The woman had multiple stab and slash wounds in her chest, face, arms, and legs and her blood stained the wooden floor. He was surprised that she still lived at all.
“Are my children…” she coughed several times, “alive?”
“I’m sorry but no one is.”
The woman cried, and Tracs grabbed a nearby blanket and covered her with it. He went through his pouch producing a rose-colored vial and held it up to her lips.
“Drink this.” He said and poured the liquid down her throat.
She drank about a third of the vile and began coughing violently and spit up the liquid all over his hand and blanket.
“Do you know who did this to you?” He asked.
“Three strangers.”
“Where did they go?”
“I don’t know. I passed out before they left...” She coughed again.
“Is there anything you could tell me about them that I would recognize them by?”
The woman’s eyes fluttered, and she lost consciousness. Tracs quickly reached into his pouch, grabbed a yellow vile, and poured the contents down her throat. A few seconds, the woman stirred. He felt bad bringing her awake, but needed to know who did this crime.
“Can you tell me anything else about these men?”
“I can’t feel my legs.” She whispered.
“Please tell me if you remember anything.”
Her breathing became labored. “There’s a necklace… over there.” She pointed to her left.
Tracs saw a necklace with a pendant attached to it and grabbed it. Engraved on the medallion was a person’s face with its eyes closed, hands holding its head and wavy horizontal lines above it. The waves reminded him of someone thinking. He studied it for a few more minutes then asked.
“Where did you get this?”
When she didn’t respond, he looked over and noticed she had finally succumbed to her wounds. Saddened, he placed the necklace into his pouch and vowed to make those responsible pay for their actions. By nightfall, Tracks buried the last of the dead and finished gathering enough clues to determine the ones responsible went southward toward the town of Redden. He mounted his mare and rode off into the darkness.
When Yang arrived in the town of Redden, he found the general in the dining hall of the mayor’s elaborate mansion enjoying a meal. The Red Knight rose after he entered unannounced.
“Paven, how are you faring in your new role?” Yang asked and sat down at the table.
The servants quickly filled a goblet with wine and placed it in front of him.
“Very well.” Paven responded and sat back down.
Yang took a long swig and said. “That’s good, now well me everything that’s happened since you overtook the town.”
Yang listened patiently until the general spoke of a group of strangers who infiltrated the town and became agitated.
“Who were these people?” Yang demanded.
“They were looking for someone named Torhan.”
“Torhan? Was he, the mayor or someone of importance?”
“No idea.”
“How did you come across that piece of information?”
“We captured one of them, and he told us everything.”
“Where is he now? I’d like to ask him a few questions.” Yang took on a sinister look.
“We sent him on a special mission.”
“I don’t have time for a guessing game, so what does that mean, special mission?”
“I transformed him into my own image, and I sent him after his friends. Of course, The Lord of the Mind had his influence on him beforehand.”
“You’re not as useless as you appear.” Yang said in a condescending tone.
“So what brings you to Redden?” Paven asked.
“The master wanted me to make sure you did as you were instructed. I am pleased with your work. He will be as well. Furthermore, I am to let you know we’ll be leaving Redden in a few weeks.”
“Why?”
“It was not his intentions for us to occupy this town for too long, just to send a message to the surrounding towns that we are coming. Do you understand?”
Paven nodded in response.
“Good, now, how about a tour of the town?”
Chapter
22: Quest For The Red Knight
Captain Strom and a clutch of his men entered the inn looking for Konafar and Tonles, figuring that’s where they’d be.
“There they are captain,” one of the men said while pointing towards the last table in the back of the room.
Strom excused him with a nod and approached the table, gazing at Konafar and Tonles with their heads down, obliviously passed out drunk.
“Konafar!” Strom called.
The big man stirred, and Strom shook his head smiling.
“Wake up you lazy bum.”
Konafar lifted his head, looked around sheepishly and then placed his head back down.
“You need to leave the inn or at least go upstairs and sleep it off.”
“We’ll be fine, we’re just resting.” Konafar replied through barely separated lips.
Strom reached for Carnage and instinctively, Konafar grabbed his wrist. “Don’t touch my blade. We’re getting up.” He rose, stretched, and shook Tonles awake. “I’m glad you’re here captain. We were coming to see you today anyway.”
Strom noticed traces of splattered blood on his armor. “I see by your appearance that you took care of business.”
“We sure did.” Tonles said stretching. “You’ll find him in his room.”
“What is it that you wanted to see me about?” Strom asked and sat down.
“We’re leaving in a day or so, and we’ll need some men.”
“For what?” Strom replied.
“We owe one of our comrades some revenge. Have you ever heard of someone who goes by the title of the Red Knight?” Tonles asked.
“I haven’t heard of anyone going by that name, who is he?”
“He tortured one of our classmates and turned him into something horrible. He will feel our wrath.”
“If he’s only one man, then why do you need assistance?” Strom was a bit puzzled given the fact that he didn’t think any one man could actually stand against these two.
“He has an army and we need to get inside of Redden, so I was thinking we’ll need some help.” Konafar explained while rubbing his head, trying to clear away the cobwebs from the long night of drinking.
“How many men are you looking for?”
Tonles and Konafar looked at each other and then back at Strom.
“I’m guessing twelve.” Tonles stated.
“It sounds like a suicide mission. I’ll see what I can do. Will you be paying them or will you promise them glory?” Strom chuckled.
“We’ll pay them handsomely if they’re willing.” Konafar said.
“Okay, eat something and I’ll be back with whoever is willing to go.”
Strom got up and clasped their arms in turn, then left.
It was around midday when Strom, and his most trusted men, returned to the Inn of the Wolf. When they entered, Konafar and Tonles were still gorging on several plates of food but stopped eating when the captain and his men walked over.
“Is this it?” Konafar asked looking over the guards.
“Yes, but I have an idea.” Captain Strom sat down without being asked to, and after introducing his men, he motioned for them to go somewhere else.
“And what would that be?” Tonles asked and then quickly went back to eating.
“I had an idea as to how you can get some more men, without even paying them.”
“Can they fight?” Konafar asked.
“They are some of the most hardened men I’ve ever met.”
Konafar placed the roasted pheasant’s leg on his plate and leaned closer. “Go on, you’ve got my attention.”
“In my prison we have several criminals who are awaiting execution, but because of some people in high offices, we are having a degree of difficulty putting anyone to death nowadays.” Strom leaned slightly back in his chair disgusted, prompting the wood to creak beneath his weight.
“It just seems,” he continued, “if you commit a crime all you have to do is stay in prison, eat for free, and wait to be released. If I were the Magistrate, I’d change the law.”
“So what can we do if they are locked away?” Konafar said looking over at Tonles, who was paying more attention to his food than to what Strom was saying.
“I was thinking that if you took them with you, you could do society a favor and kill them after they use up their usefulness.”
“What are you going to offer them in return?”
“I’ll promise them freedom if they help you.”
“How many men are you proposing?” Tonles chimed in without lifting his head.
“Three total.”
“So that will give us twelve. Do you think that is enough?” Konafar asked Tonles.
The big man lifted his head, stew dripped down his beard staining it brown in certain parts. “I like the idea of having some expendable men.”
One of the guards overheard Tonles and shot him a look.
Tonles noticed his gaze. “I didn’t mean you, so calm down.” He said and turned his attention back to the men at his table.
“Tell us about them.” Konafar said.
“One goes by the name of Burner. Another is called the Butcher, and the third is an archer, named Cord.”
Tonles’ arched his left brow. “What are their crimes?”
“Burner burnt down a school full of children because they threw trash at his house and called him names. The one that goes by the name of Butcher was convicted of murder after he hacked apart his family because they didn’t like his girlfriend. He’s a bit crazy because he kept repeating that the voices made him do it after we captured him. As far as the archer; he was an upstanding citizen until one day, during an archery demonstration, someone made the mistake of taunting him after he missed splitting an arrow by a few inches. That mistake proved costly, because he snapped and killed everyone who was watching.”
“Sounds like they could be useful. How will you get them released?”
“I’m going to tell the sergeant that you’re from Wistful and need to take prisoners there so they can stand trial for crimes they committed.”
“Will he believe you?” Konafar asked.
“I think so, but if he doesn’t I know what will persuade him.”
On horseback, Strom, Konafar, Tonles and the guards rode east for several miles until they came upon a structure buried halfway in the sand. Two guards, wearing light leather armor and holding heavy crossbows, were posted directly at the stairs leading downward into the prison. After dismounting, Strom greeted the men and they in turn moved aside and allowed the group to traverse the stairway below.
They went down for several flights and ended at a steel gated door with a lone guard. His short red hair was worn in a similar manner to Strom’s, and his features resembled the captain’s to the point that they could have passed for brothers. His black chainmail glimmered under the poor lighting, and his ax appeared to be razor sharp. He recognized captain Strom at once, and after saluting him, he turned around and banged in a rhythmic pattern on the gate using a metal object. In response, the gate lifted, allowing them to enter.
Strom led them down a long, empty hallway until they entered a medium-sized room, with a large, thick wooden door to the east and several guards sitting around a table.
“Captain Strom, what are you doing here?” an officer of medium stature, dressed in dingy chainmail said after seeing him enter.
“Jusid, it’s a glorious day. I’d like you to meet Tonles and Konafar.” The captain replied.
Jusid nodded slightly in their direction.
“They’re from Wistful on official business and will be escorting Burner, Butcher, and Cord there to stand trial.”
“For what?” Jusid quickly responded.
“Crimes they committed before we arrested them.”
“Oh? Did the Magistrate approve of this?” Jusid said, giving Tonles and Konafar a suspicious glance.
“Sergeant let’s talk privately.”
They walked out of the room and stopped when th
ey were far enough away where they wouldn’t be overheard.
“Jusid we finally have a chance to rid our society of these foul people once and for all, and you know with our laws its damn near impossible to put them to death.” Strom said.
“How will you explain it to the Magistrate?”
“I’ll take care of him.”
“Captain, with all due respect, he will question me.”
“No he won’t. I’ll have paperwork to back up my claim.”
“I don’t feel right doing this.” Jusid said. He knew Strom was putting him in an awkward position.
“How about this, if you go along with me, then I’ll see that you get reassigned to Mirkin instead of this place. You’ll be able to see your wife and kids every day. Would you like that?”
“You would do that?”
“Yes. And I’ll get you a raise as well.”
“Are you sure the Magistrate will never find out?”
“It’s my neck too.”
Jusid grinned. “Okay I’m in.”
They returned to the room and escorted Tonles and Konafar deeper down into the prison. Eventually they came to the main hallway where the prisoners were kept. The on duty guard opened the door and allowed them to enter.
“When you’re finished, come back upstairs.” Jusid said and left.
The hallway beyond was long, dimly lit, and cells were on both sides. The prisoners watched Captain Strom and the others pass by. They did so in silence, fearing the two strangers might be executioners, and that they might die.
Strom stopped when they were halfway down and looked into the cage to his left. “This is Burner.” He announced and then beckoned the prisoner forward.
The tall slender man, with wiry black hair, got off of his cot and walked over to the bars.
“Captain Strom, it’s good to see you. How are the children?” His sarcastic tone irritated the captain and he tensed up.
Captain Strom wanted to open the cell and rip his head off, but held his composure knowing that this lunatic would die soon enough. “Burner, I have a deal for you.” He offered.