Black Cross

by J. P. Ashman

  Coppin was about to talk again when she saw someone emerging from the shadows of an alley up the street. She hissed a warning and both Longoss and Sears swiftly moved to her sides.

  ‘By all the dogshit I ever did step in, what The Three are they doing here?’ Sears said, and his two companions both screwed their faces up, looked to one another in confusion and then to Sears, who was clearly no longer on guard, since he'd sheathed his sword. They looked then to the man who was walking towards them with a bloodhound at his side.

  ‘Is he a guardsman?’ Coppin asked as the man drew closer.

  ‘Erm… yeah,’ Sears said, although he didn’t sound too convinced.

  ‘And he’s on his own this far into Dockside, at dawn,’ Longoss said, pulling at the bandage wrapped about his head.

  ‘Yeah, seems so.’ Sears looked as confused as the rest.

  As the seemingly unarmed Gitsham walked up to the trio, his dog at his side, he half-heartedly lifted his right hand in an attempted salute Sears’ way, then looked to the other two and nodded, his face expressionless. ‘Mornin’.’

  Coppin managed a weak smile at the man. He’s not batted an eyelid at the bodies scattered about.

  ‘We’re with Sears,’ Longoss said.

  ‘Obviously,’ Sears added. Gitsham shrugged.

  ‘What the hell are ye doing round here?’ Sears asked, after realising Gitsham was offering no explanation as to why he was there or where he’d come from.

  Coppin had dropped to a crouch and was fussing over the dog. ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Buddle,’ Sears said, his eyes not leaving Gitsham’s.

  ‘Awe he’s cute.’ Coppin continued scratching under the hound’s chin.

  ‘Is this reinforcements?’ Longoss asked, torn between amusement and despair as he thought about the situation they were in. ‘‘’Cause we need move and move fast, Sears, we’ve hung about too long.’

  ‘No shit, big man,’ Sears said, rounding on him, ‘but we still have nothing do we? Apart from ‘there’s a mark and it’s a big one’ but nothing bloody more than that?’

  Longoss held both hands up, palms forward. ‘Alright, Sears, I know that and that’s why I need to go for Poi Son.’

  ‘Not this again,’ Sears said, looking up and rolling his eyes. All the while, Gitsham made no move to offer any information as to why he was there or to ask them what they were talking about. He just looked on blankly as his dog had its ears scratched by an attractive green haired girl covered in cuts and far more blood than could be her own.

  ‘Ye can’t be running off there to die, Longoss. We’ll go to Captain Prior and tell him what we know, and that’s that.’

  Longoss laughed. ‘We don’t know owt though do we? That’s what ye keep saying and at the same time ye wanna take that lack of information to yer bloody captain.’

  ‘Calm down, both of you,’ Coppin said, standing and glaring at the two men. They both sighed heavily and Sears turned back to Gitsham.

  ‘Well?’ Sears asked, eyes wide as he leant forward. ‘What do ye know, Gitsham?’

  ‘There’ll be no going to Captain Prior.’

  Longoss grinned.

  ‘And why’s that?’ Sears’ annoyance was clear to see.

  ‘He’s got the plague. Lord Stowold’s taken over for now.’

  Longoss’ face dropped as he thought of Sears running off to the Constable of Wesson, but before Sears himself could react to the news, Gitsham went on.

  ‘Been some trouble here, eh?’ the man asked, finally looking about and taking in the bloody scene.

  ‘Morl’s bleedin’ balls,’ Longoss said, turning away from the man and shaking his head.

  Ye’ll think that a lot around Gitsham, Sears thought, before thinking of the sick captain.

  ‘Longoss, that’s rude,’ Coppin said, placing a hand on Gitsham’s shoulder and managing to draw his attention. When he fully looked at her, he seemed to rock back slightly, as if seeing her for the first time. ‘What brought ye here, Master Gitsham?’

  ‘Sears being in trouble,’ he said, nodding towards Sears – who rolled his eyes and mouthed ‘no shit’ whilst running his good hand through his knotted beard. ‘Buddle told me so.’

  ‘‘Course he did,’ Longoss said, looking down the street.

  ‘Actually…’ Sears eyed the dog, which had moved and was looking like raising a leg behind Longoss’ own.

  ‘Alright,’ Coppin said, unsure, ‘so ye came to help Sears?’

  ‘Aye.’ Gitsham looked to Sears and nodded once.

  Copping smiled. ‘That’s a lovely thing to do.’

  ‘But ye didn’t bring any reinforcements other than Buddle?’ Sears asked, brow rising expectantly.

  Coppin flashed Sears a dangerous look. ‘Sears. Be grateful.’

  Gitsham shook his head slowly. ‘Nope, just us two.’

  Sears noticed the horn on the man’s belt. ‘Ha! A horn. Why didn’t ye say?’ Sears reached forward and plucked the horn from Gitsham’s belt. He took a deep breath.

  Gitsham held his hand up and Buddle growled, all a split second before Longoss cried out and looked down upon his suddenly warm, wet calf.

  ‘Ye can’t say anything, Longoss, after all ye’ve done in those.’ Coppin pointed to his groin.

  ‘Maybe not lass, but I’d only just started drying from the sewer.’ He shook his leg and bared gold teeth to Buddle, who bared his own teeth back. All the while, Sears had been holding the horn to his lips, awaiting an explanation as to why he shouldn’t blow and call for aid.

  ‘Too far in,’ Gitsham said, eventually.

  ‘In to Dockside?’ Coppin asked.

  ‘Aye, we’re too far in to use that now.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ Sears said, lowering the horn only slightly.

  ‘And I’m off whether ye blow it or not big guy,’ Longoss added. ‘I need to go for Poi Son, not have your lot drag me away.’

  ‘They’d hear it from here and they won’t arrest ye, Longoss, will ye be told.’

  ‘Oh aye,’ Gitsham said, ‘they’d hear it, but it’s too late for them to make it if ye blew it now anyway.’

  ‘What do ye mean, Master Gitsham?’ Coppin asked, a look of concern spreading across her face.

  ‘Think we’ve dealt with the worst of ’em.’ Sears nodded about to the corpses scatted here and there. Longoss grunted and Sears glanced sideways at him, not liking the sound or possible reason for the grunt.

  Buddle growled and looked down the street. All eyes were upon the hound as Gitsham spoke next.

  ‘He says a gang has found us, and that’s what I was meaning by it being too late to blow the horn.’

  ‘Flay me, Gitsham, ye need to learn to speed up when ye have news like that,’ Sears said angrily.

  The unmistakeable sound of ganger calls echoed off the walls of the buildings lining the street and it was hard to make out where they originated, but Buddle continued to snarl and look down towards the harbour end of Dockside.

  ‘Time to move, now,’ Sears said, suddenly setting out and heading towards the upper districts.

  Longoss didn’t budge. ‘Sorry friend, but I’m for Poi Son, so I’ll say thank ye and goodbye.’

  Sears turned and looked to Longoss, despite being distracted for a split second by both Gitsham and Buddle, the former of which was staring at Leese’s corpse whilst the latter proceeded to hump her leg vigorously. Shaking his head in disgust, Sears motioned for Longoss to follow. ‘Come on, ye can’t be attacking the Black Guild—’

  Buddle yelped as Sears mentioned the guild, and the dog leapt off the leg he’d been mounting. At the same time, Gitsham took a step back and raised his hands to his head. His eyes closed momentarily before opening wide.

  Coppin rushed to the man’s side. ‘What is it?’

  ‘He figure something out?’ Sears pointed to the dog, which had distanced itself from Leese’s body.

  Nodding, Gitsham looked from Coppin to Sears. ‘Darkness, the darkness throughout the
city, it’s connected—’

  ‘The darkness?’ Longoss interrupted. ‘Ye mean the plague?’

  Gitsham nodded.

  ‘Connected to what?’ Longoss asked.

  Gitsham looked back to the corpse and Buddle growled throatily.

  ‘To her?’ Coppin asked, confused. She looked to Longoss and he shrugged.

  More ganger calls, closer this time.

  ‘We all need to go now,’ Longoss said.

  ‘Gitsham, quickly!’ Sears was getting more and more frustrated.

  ‘To the Black Guild,’ Gitsham said. ‘Like pieces on a board, people are being worked, events played, it’s all connect—

  Gitsham almost dropped to one knee, but Coppin managed to hold him up and Sears lunged forward to assist.

  ‘Sears…’

  ‘Longoss, I know! Gitsham?’

  ‘King Barrison,’ the man managed. He looked suddenly pale and extremely weak.

  Sears looked to Longoss whose eyes had widened. Longoss mouthed the question ‘the mark?’ and Sears’ eyes widened too.

  ‘Is the King the guild’s mark, Gitsham?’

  Buddle barked and then ran off up the street. Gitsham’s eyes met Sears’ and a single nod was all Sears needed to haul the man to his feet with his good arm, before letting him go and drawing his short-sword, pointing it after the bloodhound.

  ‘Let’s move,’ Sears shouted as multiple men and youths rounded a corner lower down the street, a variety of weapons – makeshift and real – in their hands. Some pointed, others roared and shouted threats, but as one they ran towards the group in the middle of the street.

  ‘Thanks to ye all and keep her safe, Sears,’ Longoss said as he locked eyes with Coppin and smiled without the gold.

  Sears nodded once, knowing there was no turning the former assassin from his path.

  ‘I’m staying.’ Coppin’s eyes didn’t leave Longoss’ despite him shaking his head and his smile faltering.

  ‘There’s no time.’ Gitsham turned and ran after Buddle, who was almost out of sight.

  ‘Coppin?’ Sears shouted, looking from her to the nearing gangers and back.

  She turned quickly, looked at Sears and placed a hand on his heart. ‘Ye can’t change his mind, ye can’t change mine. We’re staying in Dockside. Now go. Go tell the constable. Go!’

  Reluctantly, Sears nodded to Coppin and then to Longoss, who returned the gesture with a wink. Sears turned then and ran after the man and hound, willing his tired legs to carry him on all the way up the hill and away from the gangers. He forced the two he was leaving behind from his mind.

  Longoss grabbed Coppin by the arm as Sears departed and dragged her after Sears briefly before turning off down a side street where he stopped suddenly to lift a sewer cover.

  ‘Really?’ she said, heart pounding as the sound of dozens of gangers grew ridiculously close.

  ‘Ye wanted to follow me, lass.’ Longoss pushed Coppin down the hole. And for the life of me I don’t know why.

  Longoss took a deep breath and dropped down after her.

  ***

  The overlapping branches of the tall trees in full bloom created a tunnel-like passageway through the depths of Broadleaf Forest. A cool breeze gently rustled leaves and flowers, and flies, bumblebees and other insects hovered and flitted from plant to plant. The dawn chorus of a multitude of bird songs sounded sweet and uplifting, although rarely did the humans see any of the birds making the sounds.

  As the sun rose in the east, its early morning rays shone through the forest canopy, splitting and spreading shards of light down onto the ground, where the mixed group of elves and humans walked. They passed through a large clearing surrounded by a wall of ancient trees, the foliage reaching up into the blue sky, creating a landscape fit for a dream. The grass they walked on was long and wild, with a scattering of pink and yellow flowers spread throughout. A shimmering border of blue ran around the clearing’s edges as hundreds of bluebells swayed gently on the breeze.

  Over on the far side of the clearing, a slender roe doe grazed, seemingly unconcerned by the group.

  After briefly taking in the stunning sights, the group moved across the open ground, which finally caused the doe to move off into the thick undergrowth below the canopy, a flash of white from her tail the last the group saw of her.

  Once passed the clearing and back on the forest path, Errolas stopped suddenly and held up his right hand. The group halted as one, although Sav continued to hold his head low from both embarrassment and disgust, even after hours of re-assurance from Lord Nelem behind him, that a succubus could seduce any human and most elves, and he should not be embarrassed by the incident.

  Everyone in the group – except Sav – looked to the front where Errolas had moved forward, his head tilting as he listened to whatever it was he'd heard.

  The elf ranger relaxed visibly and so did the rest of the group as a huge red stag strode onto the path in front of them, its thick neck supporting the weight of its impressive antlers. The huge animal, almost the size of a knight’s destrier, walked up to Errolas and bowed its head towards him. The humans in the group feared the animal was going to attack the elf, until, matching the stag, Errolas bowed equally as low, before the two of them rose again to look into each others eyes.

  ‘He's greeting us,’ Errolas said, much to the astonishment of the humans who looked on. Fal turned to look at Sav, who finally looked up, mouth open as he stared at the stag in amazement.

  ‘Greetings, my lord. What brings you to this area?’ Errolas said to the animal, as Nelem moved past the humans to stand next to the ranger. The stag bowed its head again and Nelem reciprocated.

  ‘Greetings to you too, my lord,’ Nelem said. After a pause, the elf lord continued. ‘You heard correctly, but the humans are with us. Although there have been other, more unsavoury, creatures in the forest. Ah,’ Nelem continued, ‘you already know that, of course.'

  'He's talking to it,' Starks said to Fal, who hushed the crossbowman, intent as he was on the conversation seemingly going ahead before him.

  ‘You travel alone?’ Nelem asked. The stag shook his regal head, looking up into the trees.

  Fal could have sworn the stag smiled.

  A chattering high above the group drew their gaze up into the trees as a pair of red squirrels fell silent and looked back down at them. One threw an acorn which hit Starks on the head, before it hopped off across branches, chattering to its partner again with what seemed like laughter.

  ‘Ouch.’ Starks rubbed his head, although he had to admit, it hadn't actually hurt.

  The rest of the group laughed.

  Errolas nodded to the stag before turning to Starks. ‘He offers his apologies, Starks. He says they meant no harm.’

  Starks looked stunned, and merely nodded as the animal, and Errolas, turned to face one another once more.

  ‘Indeed we did,' Nelem said, indicating the succubae head on his belt.

  'He asks about our encounter,' Errolas confirmed to the humans, who continued to look on in awe.

  Sav’s head lowered at the mention of the deamonette. Fal struggled to hide his amusement.

  Nelem nodded to some unheard comment or question. 'We… came across them by Birch Spring in the night, my lord. I almost mistook one for a nymph, until the boy back there said he thought she was an elf.’

  Starks frowned at the term.

  Errolas nodded. 'It is indeed troubling, my lord.' He looked ashen faced then, as did Nelem.

  'Errolas, what is it?' Correia asked. It was Nelem who replied.

  'Apparently the succubae are not the only creatures unnatural to the forest these past few weeks, and all since...'

  'Go on,' Correia said.

  Nelem frowned. 'Since the unseasonable storm on the western coast. The trolls on the Moot Hills have been bolder of late, and more so than he has heard tell of for decades. A group entered the Woodmoat no more than two days ago, until they were repelled by Meadow Guard.' Both Nelem and
Errolas' heads dropped. 'Our kin lost five that night. He says we will hear more from the council.’

  ‘You know our destination?’ Correia asked of the stag, which nodded its head in answer.

  ‘He says he hears much,' Errolas said to Correia. 'The forest talks to him. He knows of the plague sweeping your home and wishes your people a swift recovery.' Another pause before Errolas continued. 'Humans may not always play the finest role in the natural world, but your nation is an ally to Broadleaf Forest and his kin respect that.’

  ‘Thank you, my lord,’ Correia said. She bowed, triggering the same response from the large animal.

  Nelem and Errolas smiled to the stag.

  'He will be on his way now,' Errolas said, 'and wishes us all a speedy journey, and your city a fast recovery. There are things he must tend to.’

  As Errolas finished speaking, the stag turned and disappeared back the way he had come, through low branches and tangled vines that closed around him as he left the path.

  The things I’ve heard and then written off in the Coach and Cart Inn as tall stories or lies even, Fal thought once the group set off down the path again. Would I have believed this if I’d heard it told by another? I think not, and yet I’ve just witness it, and it felt… normal? No, not normal, but natural for sure.

  It was another two hours until the group reached a large opening in the forest canopy. The path widened until the trees receded and a large glade opened out before them. A small river flowed through the centre of the sun drenched glade and a bridge crossed the river to one side. The bridge looked almost natural; a large and ancient oak lay across the fast flowing water, with a deep, wide groove cut through the length of the trunk to create a smooth path across. On either side of the bridge stood an elven guard in ornately formed armour that fanned out at the shoulders like large leaves of bronze and gold. Each section of their plate armour, from their greaves to their vambraces was decorated with intricate spiralling patterns carved into the unknown metal. The edges twisted and flared so each looked like leaves from various autumnal trees, matching the pouldrons on their shoulders and the sculpted helms which curved round to protect their cheeks before kicking out at the base to deflect blows from their necks. They wore fine silver maille – which shone in the sunlight of the glade – in-between the painted plates of armour.