Katherine was stunned. If there had ever been a moment she desired her freedom most, this would be it. She had to get the word to Valvius. The world needed to prepare for the terrible foe that would soon be upon them.
“Completely obedient.” Garius said, clearly pleased with himself. “Such a genuinely great idea – one that we have trained our field kinetics in to make use of any corpses from battle. Wonderful isn’t it? Together we will rule the whole of Wynne from here my love.”
“Don’t call me that.” She stated. “You lost my love the minute you desecrated the bodies of all these…these people.”
“I have done no such thing.” Garius there was a terrible tone in his voice. “I have taken the remains Wynne has done away with and have built an invincible army to bring about the change our world so desperately needs.”
“This is wrong,” Katherine said backing towards the way they had come. “This isn’t how to change things Garius.”
“Where do you think you are going, love?” His voice was confused, but dripped with danger.
Katherine turned on her heel and ran. She didn’t look back at her one time lover. Her only thought was to get away from him. He had changed in a way she did not understand. There was feverish nature about Garius she had never noticed before. Or perhaps she had but she let herself look past his ways so she could continue to relish in his company. Before her fall, Katherine had believed the nobility of Garius’ quest – she even thought they would rekindle their love affair and have beautiful children to raise in the new world he sought to create. Now it was all she could do to be rid of him.
Katherine didn’t make it far. A wall of wild fire erupted into creation, blocking her escape. Katherine turned to face Garius, whose hand outstretched as he controlled the flaming barrier. From where she stood, the orange glow of the fires illuminated Garius in a way that made him seem as the monster he truly was.
“Get over here.” Garius ordered.
“No!” She hollered. “I want nothing to do with you Garius. I thought you were better than this. Let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He said. With his hand still held aloft, Garius Syrah approached, not wasting a moment.
Panic caught in Katherine’s throat as she realized she was trapped. She couldn’t flee the way they had come due to the licking flames, and Garius came from the front. Her only avenues were to her left or right. The left ran past the large turbines and tables, while the right ran along the ranks of Garius’ twisted legion.
There was no escape.
Katherine was not about to be caught so easy. Without much thought she darted to the left. Garius took flight after her as she passed between the coiling tubes that housed all the generated electrical energies of the weather apparatus. Katherine continued her flight down into the rows of steel tables. She cried in fright as a ball of fire soared past and burst into the side of a nearby table, knocking it into the tables beyond. The pain in her head screamed in protestation, angry from the exertion.
Garius approached, quick and on her heels. It pained Katherine to know that her body wished to doom her so as each step sent shivering pain up her legs. Rough hands grabbed Katherine’s arm, tossing her like a doll in one fluid motion. She slammed into a table hard, knocking it over with her bodily momentum.
Katherine begged Garius to let her go. She was greeted with another strike, and another and another. Each blow that fell filled her mouth with the bitter taste of blood.
“You should never have run, my lady.” Garius said, stopping his assault.
“Garius…” Katherine’s voice was weak, garbled by the pooled blood in her mouth.
“Never should have run.” He bent over and scooped Katherine up with strong hands. He walked a few steps before tossing her atop a table.
“Please…” She begged, for what, she didn’t know, yet it was all Katherine was able to say. “Garius…”
“Be quite woman.” Garius hissed as he reached for one of the many leather straps. “I had a child with you and you lost it. Now I will have what is mine and you will love me. You will love me the way you had and you will carry my seed. I was too kind to you before, but now you are mine.”
Katherine tried to struggle as he fastened the belts. They were tight, pinching Katherine’s skin under the pressure. She even tried to kick her childhood love away as he ripped her skirts, revealing her womanly mound. Tears filled her eyes as he mounted the table. He gripped her shoulders, the touch burning from his manipulating of his element.
As Garius mounted her, all Katherine could do was weep. Her skin burnt under his touch. Her body recoiled as he thrust himself in and out of her again and again. All Katherine could do was pray and hope Del Morte would send some saviour to end her torment.
“We should land there,” Dalar pointed from the prow of the small vessel. “Just to the south of that inlet. We should be concealed enough to make berth.”
“You would know better than any o’ us, scholar.” Nog Stonefinger said, adjusting the rudder of the wooden ship.
Dalar let himself smile, perhaps for the last time as the dark of night turned to the soft grey of pre-dawn. The three remaining members of the party that went in search of Katherine Margoux had spent the last two days on the turbulent waters of Fascile Bay. They had left the small coastal village of Stovice with the intent to make landfall in a day’s time, however, the waters of the bay had proven difficult to conquer this late in the year.
Issac had procured the small vessel from an antique fisherman. None of the more able bodied men were willing to part with what livelihood they had, especially in the wake of losing all their women to raids by the Order. Dalar could not fault the populace of the fishing town, for he understood what it was to lose loved ones so suddenly. It was that anguish that drove him forward in his quest to find his childhood friend.
Katherine Margoux had been born to a family that was beholden to his father’s business. When they were children, Dalar and Katherine spent much time chasing imaginary bodkins and boozles in the fields of her family’s land; or they would search for hidden troves of gold and jewels in the land of Dalar’s father. As he grew older, Dalar developed a fondness for the Margoux girl, though he knew he would never marry her. Even if her family had not been beholden to his, she was of a lower class of nobility, and Dalar youngest born. But that never stopped him from pursuing her. In truth, he never did much more than confide his deep feelings about his father, brother, and even his own destiny. Deep down he thought this would give the radiant girl a sign that he hoped for something deeper than friendship, but he knew her heart desired another.
Dalar had never met this other boy, but Katherine spoke of him often. Her love, as she began to call him, had been a pyrokinetic servant their family had taken into servitude when he was a young child. The matriarch of the Margoux family always ensured this child had remained out of sight, embarrassed of having a Syntaran in her household.
“Brace yerself scholar.” The Stonefinger’s voice boomed, startling Dalar out of his thoughts. “We’re about to breach the shallows.”
Dalar left the prow of the ship and took a seat across from Issac, whose skin was pale. It was obvious the man did not care for nautical travel,
“Fear not Issac.” Dalar patted the other man’s knee, trying to comfort him. “We are a small troupe, which will make penetrating the facilities that much easier. And failing that, we have the Stonefinger with us.” He smiled, motioning to the stocky built man at the rudder.
“I can’t do this.” Issac admitted, never taking his eyes from the wooden deck below. “I have a wife and child. I should be with them.”
“You can, Issac.” Dalar understood how the man felt. It was how Dalar felt when he was away in Brixon picking out the search and rescue teams with Edwin. It was how he felt when he had to leave his mourning wife behind. Now, all he felt in his heart was a burning desire for vengeance against those who took his family. “You can.”
“He
re we go!” Nog shouted as the boat came to a sudden halt as it hit the shoals under the waves. The force of the blow sent all three men tumbling forward. “That wasn’t so bad.” The Stonefinger laughed, pulling himself from the deck.
“Perhaps for you,” Issac complained. “You are nothing but muscle.”
“Thankee fer noticin’.” The gruff man winked. “Let’s make this quick. Each o’ you take a side an’ I’ll grab the front. We’ll hide it ov’r there in those bushes.” He pointed to a small copse of shrubs, which could hardly be called even that, not but ten feet up the shore.
Dalar hopped over the edge of the boat into the cold waters of Fascile bay and grabbed hold of the starboard side of the vessel. Issac did the same for the port side and Nog at the Prow. With the combined strength of the three men, it did not take them long to cross the shallows and the stretch of beach to hide their ship.
“Which way scholar?” Nog asked once they dropped the ship.
“Give me a moment.” Dalar closed his eyes, trying to remember the layout of the island. In years past, the isle had been used as an airship port; at one point in time the inland of this island had been used as a refueling and resting point for all airship travels when ship boilers would need fresh water and coal, or passengers needed to transfer routes. As a child, Dalar had visited this site often with his father on his many business excursions, so all he had to do was try to piece together what he recalled.
The coast that ran congruent with the bay was not far from the old port, and if the prisoner had been correct, this would be the location they needed to travel. The island itself was rocky, which would make the going slow, yet relatively safe. Nog had also noticed three vessels head from the south from the island, not but a day ago. That led Dalar to believe the most activity would be found near the southernmost tip of the isle, right where the airship graveyard could be found.
But, that was far to distant from where the prisoner they had interrogated claimed the Order made its home; where Katherine was likely being held.
“We need to go to the north and west.” Dalar said as the images of the old port house filtered in his mind.
“Alright.” Nog said. “Leave ev’ry thing but yer weapons.”
“What?” Issac asked, shocked. “What about food, water?”
“Ye won’t need ‘em.” Nog spat a glob of phlegm into the sand. “We make our move t’day.”
“Today? No, no.” Issac protested. “We just got here, we haven’t seen anything…we don’t know anything about this place and what is waiting for us. Dalar, tell him!”
“The longer we are on this isle, the greater the risk of being found.” Dalar tried to remain calm and comforting for Issac’s sake. It was hard when he, himself, was just as fearful.
“But…” Issac tried to protest again.
“Aye, th’ scholar’s right lad.” Nog agreed. “Sooner we get th’ lass, the sooner we all go home.”
“Fine.” The man said, storming off to the north, leaving his affects behind.
“Keep an eye on that one scholar.” The Stonefinger said. “He could be a risk when things get messy.”
“Understood.” Dalar said, joining Nog as he followed after Issac.
For much of the trek the three men followed the shoreline. Dalar had made the suggestion, knowing it would provide some of the quickest travel time they could afford if they were to make their move today. Silence hung over the men, much the way it had in the Valvian plains, as they made their way over the sandy beach. Far in the east, the early fingers of dawn finally began to show.
“A bad sign.” Nog stated, looking out over the bay at the creeping red tendrils of the sun. “Ruby skies like that mean only trouble fer decent men.”
“Well, perhaps we should do what we can to enhance our luck.” Dalar looked at the low rising cliff faces that marked the western ridges of the isle. “We will cross into the highlands now. With the sun rising, we would do best with the uneven terrain.”
“You know best.” Issac said, the first words he had muttered since they left the boat behind.
“Before we go any further,” Nog said, shifting the weight of the large axe strung across his back. “We needs t’ know how we’re going t’ operate.”
“What do you mean?” Issac asked.
“I mean what roles we’re goin’ t’ play when we make our move.” Nog wiped his brow, looking each man over in turn. “Ye will be th’ rear guard Issac. Th’ scholar will take th’ middle an’ I’ll take th’ lead.”
“Why do you get the lead?” Issac’s cheeks flushed as he protested the plan.
“Same reason he took first watch at night, Issac.” Dalar stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. “He’s a warrior bred, you and I are not.”
“Then why not you, the scholar, in the rear?”
“Cause he is a better shot than ye.” The Stonefinger slapped the smaller man on the shoulder with a hearty laugh. “Quit yer belly achin’ an’ let’s get goin’.”
Dalar went first, picking out the safest route to the highland paths. He took his time, inspecting each rock and boulder with its relation to the others surrounding it - even to the earth, to determine the ideal way to the top. The going was slow, but not terrible. Issac struggled a little at first, but by the time the party reached the rise, he had surpassed even Nog.
Once they reached the top, the sun had finally crested the eastern horizon. The bold ruby it first showed now waned to a muted red as it made its way to the bright light of day. The rocky glen they stood upon faded away into a low gully, which ran straight to a large tower and building complex that was partially hidden by the morning mist.
“There it is.” Dalar said. “The old port.”
“The lair of the Imperial Order.” Issac corrected.
All three men looked at one another, each fingering their weapons. They had come so far and now here they stood, so near their destination.
“How long of a hike?” Nog asked, taking a step onto the nearest rock.
“Two-to-three hours.” Dalar estimated. “But I would not be surprised to find hidden caves around here that would have served as emergency escape routes in the case of war, or fire.”
“And if we find one?” Now it was Issac who was asking questions. “How long then?”
“Depends,” the scholar said, setting forth into the rocky glen. “Could be half-an-hour, or four. I couldn’t tell you, I have never been in them. But I know they must exist as they were utilized in many of the old ports during the Great War.”
What really came as a surprise to Dalar Rhume, scholar of Valvius and Brixon, was the apparent lack of any features in the rock facings to provide any credence to his theory. No cracks, crevices, or caves presented themselves as the men shambled their way to the distant complex. Nothing. Dalar began to worry as the morning sun rose ever more and the tower grew closer with each step. He prayed to Del Morte that they would find one of the emergency tunnels, for he did not want to approach his foes in the open. Yet his hope dwindled the closer they got to their destination. But his luck was about to change.
It was Nog who spotted it first. He had foraged ahead to keep an eye out for any Imperial scouts. When Dalar caught up to the burly man, he almost screamed for joy. The cave had all the signs of use; from the well-worn stone that slithered its way into the gaping maw of the cave, to the relative close proximity of the tower, Dalar knew this cave would yield a positive outcome.
“Look,” Issac whispered as he made his approach. He knelt to the ground, pointing.
Both Nog and Dalar slid to their knees and followed the line Issac’s finger created. There, on a balcony on the upper tier of the stone building, was a woman. She was dressed modestly. Even though he could not make out her features, Dalar knew it was Katherine. The wave in her hair, the way the woman carried herself, and even the tone of her skin gave away the woman’s identity.
“That’s her.” Dalar whispered. “That’s Katherine.”
“Don’t
look much like a prisoner.” Nog said.
“If that boy can be believed,” Dalar said. “Then the man who holds her is a man whom she loved. She will be contained, but not in the way of a traditional prisoner.”
“Get down!” Issac said, shoving Dalar and Nog into the cave.
“What’re ye doin?!” The Stonefinger hissed.
“She saw us!” Issac hissed back.
“Del Morte be good!” Dalar cursed. “Then let’s make this quick, we don’t know how much time we have. We cannot trust her to keep her tongue.”
“Would she squeal on us?” Issac asked. “I mean we are coming to save her.”
“She don’t know that boy.” Nog said, unfastening the buckles that held his axe. “She won’t know who we are. She will have only seen shadows, an’ if her captor is a lov’r than she may reveal what she saw.”
“Then why should we rush now and not wait?” Issac said.
“If she says anythin’, boy, then patrols will be increased.” Nog sighed. “Makin’ our job that much harder. Now quit yer belly achin’ an’ let’s go.” With that, the Stonefinger bounded down the path into the bowels of the tunnel.
“Ready?” Issac turned to Dalar.
“No.” Dalar admitted as he checked the chamber of his ivory pistol. “I’m a scholar, not a warrior. But I am needed for action now, and a warrior I must become.”
The other man nodded, as if finally understanding what was required of him. Before Dalar could say another word, Issac took off after the Stonefinger. Not wanting to be left alone, Dalar followed suit.
Once Dalar caught up with Nog and Issac, the party slowed their pace to a brisk walk. It was darker here, but the path below could still be seen. Dalar figured it was running directly to the base of the tower, based off of the general direction it seemed to lead them. For this he was thankful. He did not wish to end up in the center of the larger building complex they had seen in the distance. Every so often he would check their rear, ensuring they were not being followed. Finally, they came upon a flat stonewall. It was wide and flat, but warm at the same time.
The Spark Page 41
