Black Cross

by J. P. Ashman

  ‘Broadleaf Forest is unlike any wood or forest you are used to, even you, scout,’ Nelem said, nodding to Sav. ‘There are powers and ancient magics at work here, and it is unwise to anger the forest itself by disregarding or disobeying its laws.’

  Sav now had a stupid grin on his face, which accompanied the glazed expression which had lingered since drinking the strange liquid Lord Nelem had given to him. He and Fal turned to each other and then back to Lord Nelem, in awe of the elf lord, whilst Starks looked around the dark clearing, his bandaged and burnt face a picture of confusion.

  ‘Laws?’ the young crossbowman asked. ‘You mean your laws, Lord Nelem? Elf laws?’

  Errolas and Nelem both smiled before Errolas answered the question.

  ‘No, Starks, Lord Nelem means what he says. It is by the forest’s own laws we elves live, not the other way around. We have lived here for millennia in the understanding that we follow the forest’s laws and act as its protectors. It is hard to explain, because the laws are simple and yet complex at the same time. With us, however, you shall be fine. I am sure of that.

  ‘There are a couple of laws I will tell you now,’ Errolas said, ‘but don’t worry about any others, just follow us and follow our lead.’

  The three human men closed in slightly to hear the two laws, whilst Correia stood to Lord Nelem’s side, apparently aware of them already.

  The reality proved somewhat disappointing to Starks, but with Sav being a scout, Fal coming from a land of thick forests and jungles to the south, and Correia being well versed in other cultures, even some elven it seemed, those three understood how important the two simple rules were.

  ‘Do not stray from the path and do not light fire,’ Errolas said, as seriously as any of the humans had ever heard him be.

  ‘Is that it?’ Starks blurted.

  Fal frowned at the young man before turning to the two elves. ‘Your forest’s laws will be upheld by us, Lord Nelem, Errolas.’ The elves nodded their appreciation.

  ‘Then let us be on our way,’ Nelem said, smiling sincerely. ‘We have much distance to cover and we have no time to spare. We do not want your friends reaching the council before us unannounced, do we?’ And so the group moved on, across the clearing and back onto the dark, narrow and winding paths of Broadleaf Forest.

  ***

  The dark streets of Dockside were quieter than they'd been for some time and that worried Longoss, who again tried to shrug off Coppin’s hands.

  ‘I need to bind yer head, ye fool. Now be still,’ she said, pulling the big man’s bloody head down so she could wrap the cloth around it.

  ‘It’s too quiet,’ Longoss grumbled, ‘I don’t like it.’

  Sears shook his head. ‘Samorl’s bones, Longoss, ye lost both yer ears damn it? Course ye’re finding it quiet, but ye’re right, we can’t hang about here.’ Sears looked about the shadows and rooftops, whilst cradling his left arm, the wrist of which looked to be sat at a strange angle.

  ‘Speak up, I’ve lost me damned ears,’ Longoss said, irritably.

  Not sure if Longoss was being sarcastic or not, Sears changed tack. ‘We’re lucky to have survived that,’ he said loudly.

  ‘I know, alright!’ Longoss’ outburst caused Coppin to step back. The former assassin’s face immediately softened as he looked at the girl. ‘I can’t keep dragging ye about like this, Coppin. I need to go finish it; need to find Poi Son and—’

  ‘Need to come to yer senses,’ she finished, hands on hips. It was only then that Longoss realised she had been slashed several times upon her arms, although none looked serious.

  ‘She’s come a long way,’ Sears said, standing behind her.

  Longoss nodded his agreement. ‘I know.’

  Coppin held the big man’s gaze as she spoke. ‘Ye need to realise I’m in this for me, Longoss. I’ve seen and done things I never thought I would, or could, and I’m not sure it’s all hit me proper yet, but I’m all the stronger for it, I know that much. I’m living my life now, not a life forced on me by others, and that’s the way it’s to stay.’ She crouched down to check Longoss’ other wounds. ‘Sears is right though, we need to move on and we need ye to tell us where.’ Coppin looked up into Longoss’ eyes, which caused her heart to skip a beat, to her genuine surprise. Those eyes weren’t those of a monster or killer, they were of a man who’d done what he had to do to survive, and one she now knew, somehow with certainty, would look after her and never harm her.

  Nodding slowly, Longoss pulled his eyes away from Coppin’s and looked up the street, towards the upper districts. ‘I’m still stunned at the amount they sent after us,’ he said eventually, as Coppin moved to check Sears’ wrist – which caused the big man to curse repeatedly.

  ‘I think that means ye’re right about this mark the guild has,’ Sears said through gritted teeth, as Coppin fashioned a makeshift sling for his left arm. ‘It has to be something huge, to warrant this public display of violence in order to stop us from talking.’

  Longoss nodded. ‘Aye, and the ones I faced weren’t no street-assassins neither; they were true assassins. One of ‘em almost had me, more than once too if Coppin here hadn’t come for me.’ He nodded his thanks and not for the first time since the fighting had stopped.

  Coppin blushed slightly, as she had previously. ‘I only did what either of you two would’ve.’

  ‘All the same, lass,’ Sears said, ‘those were some brave moves. What we need do now though is make for the upper districts and the City Guard, and that means you two too, for surely they’ve no more to throw our way.’

  Longoss was shaking his head before Sears finished. ‘They’ll arrest her and me, and I can’t allow that, Sears.’

  ‘They won’t, I promise.’

  ‘Really?’ Longoss said, turning fully on the red bearded man. ‘Ye can swear it, can ye? Because I don’t believe we could know anything that’s going to happen. Look at all this,’ he said, sweeping his thick, bandaged arm about the body littered street and the dead assassins. ‘They were my fellow guild members, some of which I’ve known for years. Not that I could’ve called them friends, but I couldn’t ever have predicted this and ye can’t predict the actions of yer captain or the magistrates, Sears, ye just can’t.’

  ‘Ye’re right, I can’t, but I need to warn them, although I still don’t know of what exactly.’

  As Sears spoke, there was a groan from across the street. Looking to one another, it was Longoss that ran across and crouched down beside the stirring assassin.

  ‘I thought ye killed that one?’ Sears said to Coppin, who looked back, confused.

  ‘So did I?’ But I’ve killed a lot this day…

  They both looked across to Longoss, who looked back, gold teeth glinting in the moonlight.

  ‘Well then,’ Sears said, crossing the street, Coppin close behind, ‘let’s see what she knows.’

  ***

  Long, smooth black hair cascaded down her pale skinned back, swaying gently from side to side as her hips swung gracefully. Slender fingers twirled the loose strands of hair that fell over her delicate shoulders as the sparse star light that managed to break through the canopy danced across her seemingly flawless form.

  She wore no clothes and held nothing but her perfect posture as she sauntered seductively down the forest path, her pointed ears peeping through the black hair framing her cute, yet confident face. Bright green eyes gazed out beneath thick lashes, whilst her petite nose sat above dark lips. Her full, pert breasts gave way to a flat, toned stomach before her nakedness was fully revealed. The forest path’s floor seemed to draw back away from her, vines and small nocturnal creatures darting back into the undergrowth, some of the latter peeking back out at the beauty that strolled passed.

  There were men’s voices ahead, human as well as elf and this intrigued her. She quickened her step ever so slightly and rounded a bend to see the back of a tall human male disappear around another curve in the tree lined path.

  Leaving the
path in a sudden burst of silent speed, the stunning woman ran effortlessly and silently through the trees before coming to a large ash leaning heavily across the winding path the group were travelling.

  As they passed, she reached out and pulled the last of the human males through the bushes and behind the tree with surprising strength considering her delicate frame.

  Sav, startled, moved for his short-sword, wincing as his shoulder cried out in protesting pain. Almost as soon as he'd felt the pain however, the same sluggish feeling swept over him that he'd been experiencing since Lord Nelem had let him swig the strange elven medicine. He looked up then, remembering he'd been pulled from the path. Never leave the path, he thought, swallowing hard. But all seemed well as soon as he looked into the bright green eyes looking back at him longingly. Sav’s eyes wandered down, slowly, past dark lips – the bottom one of which was being gently bitten by the beautiful woman; the beautiful naked woman who stood in front of him, her head reaching only as high as his shoulders.

  By all the gods above and below, I must be dreaming… or the elf lord drugged me. Aye, that must be it, I’m hallucinating.

  Sav wanted to ask who she was, where she came from, anything to banish the apparition stood before him, but none of it seemed to matter as she reached up on tiptoes and brushed her tender lips against his, pressing her breasts to his chest and placing his hands around her back. His heart raced, his mind swirled and they fell together to the soft forest floor.

  Oh, she’s real alright. Sav felt her soft lips against his. He ran his hands across her smooth back and then down…

  He began to leave all conscious thoughts behind as his mind swam with pleasure, the sound of running water close by a perfect accompaniment to the elven liquid again stealing away his pain and lucidity.

  Suddenly, Sav’s mind was torn away from the dreamlike state and the running water as the woman undid the cord of his braes and pulled them down.

  I’ve died and there is a better place beyond.

  Sav surrendered himself completely.

  ***

  A tawny owl screeched and Starks jumped, then turned, awaiting Sav’s laughter.

  Sav was gone.

  Shit! ‘Sav?’ Starks called gently, worried about getting the scout into trouble for leaving the path.

  Both elves turned from the front of the group, their sensitive ears picking up the concern in the young man’s voice.

  ‘Where’s he gone?’ Errolas asked swiftly.

  Starks turned back to the group and shrugged. ‘He was here a second ago.’

  Errolas and Nelem looked to each other and drew their curved swords. The humans copied their actions as the two elves pushed past them and ran back down the dark path, looking at the floor for tracks under the beam of light from Errolas’ star stone.

  Fal pushed past Starks then and ran after the two elves, the young crossbowman close behind after Correia had motioned for him to follow.

  ‘I don’t like this,’ Starks mumbled, as they jogged on after the others. ‘Can’t see anything, we could be jumped on from right next to us and we wouldn’t know a bloody thing until it was too late.’

  ‘Hush!’ Correia hissed quickly from behind. She scanned the blackness of the forest either side of the path. Her eyes were drawn to the beam of light from Errolas’ star stone ahead as it suddenly pointed down.

  Fal stopped when he reached the elves, and Correia pulled Starks behind her so she could press up against Fal’s back to look over his shoulder. She ordered Starks to watch their back with a swift hand movement over her own shoulder, before taking note of the illuminated tracks on the ground in front of them.

  Starks turned, loaded his crossbow and looked up, back the way they'd come. He whistled appreciatively just as the two elves pushed through the undergrowth and off the path, Fal close behind them. As soon as they'd disappeared into the blackness, Nelem re-appeared to shut Starks up. He looked passed Correia and down to the crouched crossbowmen, before looking over the young man’s head to the naked, blonde haired woman who was practically skipping up the path towards them. She was clearly the target of Starks’ appreciative whistle. Nelem ran his hand through his own long hair and laughed melodically.

  Correia turned to see what he was looking at and screwed her face up as she saw the naked woman approaching.

  ‘A nymph,’ Nelem said. Correia rolled her eyes. ‘There’s a pool near here, they always stay close to water.’

  ‘So that’s where that damned scout is.’ Correia’s face screwed up in disgust and perhaps a little anger, or so the elf thought, glancing quickly at the Spymaster.

  ‘Wow…’ Starks said, as he lowered the loaded crossbow. ‘Your elven women are beautiful… I mean, they—’

  ‘What?’ Nelem tensed suddenly. Correia saw the change in posture and turned fully, taking up a defensive stance with her swords.

  ‘Your elven girls, they’re perfect.’ Starks laid the crossbow down and moved slowly towards the woman who was beckoning him forward.

  ‘Elven?’ Nelem asked, confused.

  ‘Yeah, pointy ears and all that,’ Starks said, unable to tear his eyes away from the beauty walking towards him.

  ‘Get back!’ Nelem yelled, and Correia lunged forward, pulling the young man back by his collar. Starks fell back onto his crossbow and the trigger clicked, launching the deadly bolt across the ground and slamming it into the naked woman’s thigh.

  Shrieking an otherworldly cry, the naked woman fell into a crouch, her delicate… no, her elongated clawed fingers wrapping around the protruding bolt as she ripped it out.

  Starks shook his head, his mouth open in horror as the woman looked up, her eyes as black as the night, and her now obvious fangs exposed.

  She screeched again, this time not far from the sound the owl had made just moments before, and Nelem realised then that it hadn’t been an owl at all they'd heard, it had been a succubus.

  Leathery wings unfolded from her back as she screeched once more. Her golden hair lifted on the black wings before falling back over her shoulders and breasts. Her feet were fully clawed now and pawed at the ground, the thick, black blood of her wound running freely down her leg as she beat her powerful wings. The wind rustled the trees and the deamonette lifted awkwardly into the air, hampered by overhanging branches.

  Nelem pushed past the two humans and ran forward, his long, curved blade held out to the side as he leapt towards the screeching succubus.

  Clawed fingers swept across in front of the succubus’ chest and raked the elf’s cheek before his sword tore through one of her leathery wings. He rolled as he landed and came back at the struggling creature immediately.

  She landed badly, one wing torn and her leg unable to take the weight as the elf’s sword came in again, straight for the throat. She managed to move just in time and thrust at the elf’s groin with her sharp claws.

  Nelem hopped back, the leather breeches covering his groin torn, but nothing more. He moved forward in a feint as the succubus turned to face an oncoming Correia, who lunged at the deamonette’s back. The unnatural creature threw out an open palm and a wave of invisible energy knocked the Spymaster from her feet.

  The distraction proved enough though, and as Nelem struck again, the strangely beautiful yet vicious head of the succubus fell to the ground, before being covered by the slumping, winged body.

  Correia was pulled to her feet by a stunned Starks, as Lord Nelem ran past, back to where Errolas and Fal had left the path.

  ***

  The dulcimer’s strings hummed sweetly as two hammers struck them to create an eerily exotic sound. Pangan wasn’t familiar with the piece, nor with the instrument his master was using to create it, but that wasn’t unusual since the man stood in the corner of the dark, candlelit room seemed to have a different stringed instrument from one week to the next. All of which he was clearly able to play, although he often chose not to play them correctly, that much Pangan was sure when thinking back to some of the sounds he�
�d heard coming from the room in the past.

  The assassin’s eyes lingered on the trapezoidal wooden board and the strings stretched across it, all of which was sat on ornately carved wooden legs. The top of the instrument itself leaned away from the guild master, who used one of the hammers to strike two strings close together in the lower right hand corner, creating a low resonating tone. His eyes flicked up suddenly to Pangan, who matched the stare despite his fear, especially after the news he'd just delivered.

  A sneer was the only warning Pangan had before Poi Son launched the hammer he’d used to strike the lowest cord. The hammer missed, barely, and Pangan wondered briefly whether it would’ve been prudent to let it hit him. Looking back to Poi Son, he saw the brief release of anger had lapsed already and the man was moving to the chair behind his desk.

  ‘Tell me,’ Poi Son said, ‘how it is that three individuals can best our finest assassins and a number of street-assassins?’ The guild master’s eyes tracked Pangan as he walked across to the dulcimer and replaced the hammer thrown at him, which he’d swiftly retrieved.

  ‘Honestly, Master Son?’ the assassin said, turning to face his master before crossing back to where he’d previously been standing. ‘I don’t know.’ He accompanied his words with a shrug of his slender shoulders.

  ‘That much is clear.’ Poi Son sighed heavily. ‘He has sworn not to kill and yet still he wins out against all we send against him, as do his companions – a guardsman and a damned whore.’

  ‘I think the mistake we made was allowing Blanck to kill—’

  ‘Don’t you think I know that now?’ Poi Son shouted. He allowed himself a little satisfaction as the assassin in front of him looked to his feet after the outburst.