by Mike Morris
Rane would have laughed if he'd been able. He wasn't going anywhere except, maybe, into the ground. Karn sprinted back to where Rane had dropped Kibon and scooped it up in his hands. "I got it," he said, holding it up for Rane to see.
Next to him, Marcus lay still.
"Bring it here," asked Rane. He tried to beckon Karn over but even lifting his arm was too much.
The man took forever to return. Rane's vision shifted in and out of focus as he waited, aware of the blood leaking away, the cold getting worse. Kara filled his mind, a bright star in the dark, love to fight the fear. At least if he died he'd be with her once more. Would she forgive him for his failings? Her unavenged death?
Then a jolt as Karn pressed Kibon into his hands. Rane gripped the hilt of his sword but the magic was faint. He'd drawn too much from it already.
Regas staggered over to join them, a bone jutting out from his left arm. "Did you see Sarah? Did you see my daughter?"
Rane nodded. "Was lying in the road."
The man didn't need telling twice. With Fia supporting him, they headed off to find the girl.
"I'm going to see if the others are okay," said Karn, leaning in.
Rane gripped his arm as best he could. "He's still alive. You've got to kill him."
"Who?" replied Karn. He looked around, saw Marcus, and realised what Rane was asking him to do. "But you shot him. He's already dead."
"No, he's not," he grunted. A bullet to the torso wouldn't kill him in the same way Marcus's sword hadn't killed Rane. Yet. "Get your axe and chop his head off. Then he'll be dead."
"What? No." Sweat broke out on Karn's forehead and he began to shake. "I can't do that. I'll get one of the others. William... Olivick..." He glanced around at the bodies of his friends. There was no telling if they were alive or not. He looked at Rane, pleading with his eyes, but found no reprieve from the task. "Shit."
"I'm sorry."
"My axe. It's in the wagon." With one last shake of his head, Karn left Rane and clambered back onto the driver's seat. Rane heard the scrapping of metal on wood and then Karn was back, the weapon in his hand.
"You can do it," said Rane. "Be quick."
Karn took a deep breath and then blew it out again. "Okay. I can do it."
Rane watched him walk and stop by Marcus's head. Karn adjusted his grip on the axe, juggling it around in his hands, shaking all the more. He lifted the axe up, then lowered it again. He looked over at Rane. "I can't do this."
"Fuck." Rane somehow managed to get to his knees. The world around him faded in and out and the darkness tried to claim him once and for all. Every breath was laboured as he pressed Kibon to his chest but the sword had nothing to give.
With his other hand, he fumbled for the hilt of Marcus's sword, closed his fingers around it.
It's magic hit him like a hammer blow. Burning through him, shredding his veins, exploding in his heart. Power. Strength. He dropped Kibon. It was no longer needed. Useless compared to the fury within Marcus' sword. He got to his feet, no longer weak, no longer dying. The darkness was gone. He saw the world in its true light and he was its master. Fire burned in him, brighter than the sun. He was a god. The god of death. Of war. Of misery.
Karn watched, open-mouthed, scared. Nothing but a weak fool. Blood to feed the sword. Meat to kill. A life to snuff.
Rane pulled the sword from his gut, feeling no pain. Inch by inch, it slid free. Inch by inch, he could feel the black blade moving through him and he didn’t care. He watched the steel exit his stomach and then saw the wound close up. Barely a mark to show it had ever been.
He screamed at the Heavens. The Gods themselves should fear him. If any were foolish enough to cross his path, he would murder them too. He was the immortal, not them.
"Rane... What are you... Are you... I..." Karn spluttered the words as the axe fell from his hands. He retreated as Rane advanced, aware that death approached. Joy swelled within Rane at the sight of the other man's fear. He could feel the excitement in Marcus's sword at the thought of more blood to feed on, and it promised more power in return. A new voice screamed in ecstasy. He knew this was only the beginning, knew he was going to become so much more.
"Come. There is nowhere to hide." Rane raised the sword. How could anyone think such a glorious weapon was evil? Only his enemies. Rane would hunt them all down. Watch them bleed. Listen to them beg. Slaughter them all.
Power surged through him. Strength to destroy the world.
"Nathaniel." The voice came from behind. Rane spun around as the hammer smashed into his face. Once, twice, three times. It struck his wrist, knocking Marcus's sword from his grasp. He staggered back, the fire within him suddenly doused.
Myri stood before him, an ironsmith's hammer in her hand, ready to strike again.
"Myri," said Rane, out of breath, and as weak as a newborn. He wiped his face as a wave of emotions came over him — guilt, desire, anger, pity, hunger. He had to stop himself from lunging for the sword again. "The sword. Don't touch it. It nearly had me."
"We could all see that." Myri still stood poised ready to attack Rane if need be. "Are you good? Or do I have to beat the shit out of you until you see sense?"
Rane held up both hands. "I'm good. I'm good."
Myri grunted and marched over to where Marcus lay. The man's fingers twitched as she loomed over him. "Die, you bastard." She brought the hammer down hard, smashing into his skull. Crack. Crack. Crack. Marcus's body jerked with each blow until his head broke open. Down and down went the hammer, splattering blood and brains, until there was nothing left. Only then did Myri stop.
Myri stood up and spat on Marcus's ruin face. "That's for taking my hand." She dropped the hammer at her feet just as Fia returned with Regas, holding his daughter in his one good arm, and tears in his eyes. Karn rushed over and hugged his wife.
"Is she alive?" asked Rane.
"Yes, thank Odason," replied Fia. "She's alive." She glanced down at Marcus's body.
"Don't worry about him," said Myri, before Fia could ask. "He's definitely dead."
"Thank you," said Regas. "Thank you for saving my daughter. I owe you more than I can ever repay."
"The bastard nearly killed me," shouted Karn. "He's as dangerous as the other one."
Fia stepped back, her eyes darting from her husband to Rane and back again.
Flushed with new found anger, Karn jabbed a finger towards Rane. "He picked up the other bastard's sword and went mad. If Myri hadn't hit him with a fucking hammer, I'd be dead right now. He'd probably have killed all of you."
"By Odason." She fixed her eyes on Rane and Myri, but spoke to the others. "Karn, check on Olivik and William. Get Tanya and Joassa to help you. I want everyone back on their feet and ready to leave here as soon as we can. Put the dead on one of the wagons. I'm not going to leave anyone in this cursed land."
Karn shuffled off. He clambered up on Fia's wagon and banged on the door while Rane, Myri and Fia all stood around watching each other. Rane's heart still raced with residual magic from Marcus's sword. He knew he had the strength to rip the wagons apart with his bare hands if he had to. By the Gods, no wonder his friends were falling to the taint. Kibon's hold on him was powerful but it was nothing compared to what it could be — what it wanted to be.
"Are you two going to start being honest with me?" asked Fia once they were alone.
"We're Legionnaires. Me, Myri, the dead man on the ground," replied Rane. "He was my best friend once."
Fia curled her lip in disgust as she looked down on Marcus's corpse. "The demon?"
"We were given magical powers during the war so we could beat the Rastaks," continued Rane. "That magic is turning us slowly into what he — Marcus — became. The more tainted we become, the blacker our swords." He pointed at Marcus's sword on the ground. "When I picked up his sword, its evil overcame me and I attacked Karn. My mind wasn't my own."
Karn and the two women had both William and Olivick back on their feet. Neither man seemed to
have any permanent damage.
Fia smiled at them as they passed and then returned her attention to Rane and Myri once more. "And your own blades?"
Rane picked Kibon up off the ground and showed the priest the blade. Even in the dusk, the steel still carried a shine. Fia nodded and then raised an eyebrow in expectation at Myri.
With a grunt, Myri used her thumb to push an inch or two of her sword from its sheath.
"It's black." Fia's voice was cold, matter-of-fact.
"Not completely. Not yet. But bad enough," snapped Myri. “Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt any of your precious flock. I just want to get out of this hellhole as quickly as possible and leave you to be on your way."
"And then what?” asked Fia.
"We're heading north, to Orska. Our old commander is waiting for us there with other Legionnaires. He's found a cure for us all," said Rane softly, as if the truth of the words were too fragile to be spoken.
"More magic?" Fia drew a circle over her chest and shivered as Rane nodded, looking very much alone and far from her God's gaze. "How far till we reach the end of the Dead Lands?"
"Most probably a day's travel."
Karn unhitched the dead horse from William and Douglas's wagon while Olivick tried to calm its companion. Joassa and Tanya helped William sit down against one of the wagon wheels. A nasty gash ran down the side of his face. He was lucky to be alive. They all were.
Fia watched her companions work. "And if we leave now? Travel through the night?"
"We could be out by first light," said Myri.
Rane glanced over at her. "But it won't be safe, better to rest up somewhere. Travel when we can see what lies ahead."
"There are enough fucking fires burning to see by, Nathaniel," retorted Myri. "And Marcus is dead. I don't think his corpse is going to trouble us none."
"I agree," said Fia. "We move soon as we are able. Travel through the night. And I think it’ll be safer if we then go our separate ways in the morning."
Rane sighed. He wasn't going to be able to sleep anyway, not with all the magic still in him. "Okay. It's your call. We can hitch my horse up to William's wagon and I'll ride with him for now. But first sign of any trouble, we stop. I don't want anyone else dying just because we're all in a hurry."
"Let's get to it then," said Fia. "We'll need to haul the dead horse out of the road first. Can you help Karn?"
"No need. I can do it on my own," replied Rane. He marched over to the animal, glad for something to do, glad to be not talking anymore. They'd saved two of the children Marcus had taken. They should be glad of that, Rane himself in particular. He should be happy that he'd fulfilled his oath — served and protected those weaker than himself. The curse, the taint, was nothing new. It had been there before Marcus's sword possessed him. It was still there now, waiting in his own sword. Instead he just felt sick to his gut. Couldn't help but feel he should just put a gun to his head and call it a day. Better that than end up like Marcus.
Karn stepped back as Rane approached, still scared of the Legionnaire. Probably a long time before he'd get over what happened and Rane couldn't blame him. He bent down, wrapped his arms around the horse's neck and, with a grunt, hauled the corpse to the side of the road. It weighed near enough two thousand pounds but it might as well have been a feather. Was it only a day before he'd struggled with lifting a wagon? He tossed the horse in amongst the bones. It deserved better than to rot amongst the Rastaks but that was the world. Rane doubted his own resting place would be much better. He fingered Kara's locket, glad that she wasn't around to see what he was becoming, what her brother had become.
He turned back but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Myri. She was watching him, Marcus's sword in her hand.
"What are you doing?" asked Rane.
"Don't worry. I've got a glove on. I'm still me." She held her hand up to prove the point. "We can't just leave this lying here in the road."
Before he could say a word, Myri drew back her arm and then threw the cursed sword into the night.
Rane watched it arc through the air and disappear into the smoke and the bones. "We should’ve destroyed it."
"It's safe enough there. No one will find it," replied Myri without looking at him. "Come on, let's get out of this shit hole."
Karn had returned to his place by Fia's side on the temple wagon and Rane couldn't but help notice he had Douglas's musket cradled in his arms.
William himself lay in the back of the Rane’s wagon, a bloody bandage wrapped around his head. He raised his eyes as Rane climbed into the driver's seat but the effort proved too much for him and he lapsed back into unconsciousness.
Myri passed Rane his bow and quiver before mounting her own horse. After securing the weapons beside him, he stood up and looked back over the convoy. "Everyone ready?"
Scared faces looked back, nodded. Time to go.
23
"Thank you."
Rane almost missed the words, not much more than a whisper, coming from the back of the wagon. All his attention was on the road ahead, looking for any danger, hoping for some sign that they were about to reach the end of the Dead Lands.
"Thank you." A cough followed on this time. Rane looked over his shoulder and found William staring back at him, eyes wide and bright, blood staining the bandage wrapped around his head. Skin white as death. But for now the man was alive.
"You're awake." Rane passed a water skin back to William, but his eyes were already back on the road. The convoy was making good progress but only the Gods knew how much further there was to go. Myri rode some thirty or forty yards ahead. They'd not spoken in the hours since they left Marcus's corpse behind.
Rane heard him drink with another cough and splutter. Then with a groan and a grunt, William climbed up front and sat alongside him. "I mean it."
"Mean what?"
"Thank you. For saving my life back there. Saving the kids. Weren't for you, they'd be dead. Most probably the rest of us would be too. Where I come from, that deserves a bit of gratitude."
Rane shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with William’s words. He could still feel the magic in his veins and the disgust at what he'd nearly done pulsed away just as strong. Nearly murdering those he was protecting didn’t seem the actions of someone who deserved any sort of gratitude. Kara's locket jangled on his wrist. At least she'd not seen the two men she loved become murdering animals. "There's nothing to be said. Hopefully you'll be able to get back on the road to Napolin soon enough. Put all this behind you."
"Ain't that the dream?" William laughed. "Seems all we ever do is leave shit behind us and try and head somewhere new, pretending the same shit won't just be waiting for us when we get wherever it is we're going. And then we act all surprised when it shows its ugly head again."
Images of a lost wife and home flashed through Rane's mind, his sword a weight on his back. "Seems cynical for a believer of Odason."
"I'm not sure I do believe in Odason or any other God, not after what I've seen. But I believe in Mother Fia and that's good enough for now."
"How did you come to join her?"
"I thought I was one of the lucky ones. I made it out of the war alive, returned home to discover my wife and family were some of the ones who didn't. Wasn't so lucky after all. Fia found me when I was lost in despair getting up to some bad things, asked me to join her. I used to be a carpenter before I was a soldier. She thought both skills would come in handy." William took another slug of water and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "I've not done much building yet."
"Fia seems a good person. Determined. A good person to have faith in."
"Without her..." William shook his head. "I'd be... we'd all be...Let's just say she makes it easier to believe we can find somewhere worth starting anew."
Rane looked back at Fia and Karn driving the next wagon behind. Neither looked happy, scowling at the world around them, and Rane couldn't blame them for that. "Sounds like someone worth having in your life." H
e ran his finger over Kara's locket. He knew what that was like. And what it was like to lose them.
"So you're a Legionnaire," said William.
Rane looked at him. Couldn't see any point in denying it. Enough of the convoy knew already. "Yes."
"Shit. Explains a lot. Douglas knew, didn't he?"
"He fought with us in the war."
"I came across a few back then but never saw any fight. Just heard the stories."
"Most were exaggerated."
"No. You guys were real-life heroes to us grunts in the trenches and on the walls."
"We're not so popular now."
William chuckled, then coughed some more, then groaned. "Fuck that hurts. Shouldn't laugh but I would've thought being worth ten thousand gold pieces would make you very popular indeed."
"With the wrong sort of people perhaps."
"Well, as I said before, you got my thanks. How old were you when you joined up?"
More memories came back, of times long forgotten. Innocent days. "Sixteen. A couple of years before the war started. Life was taking me the wrong way and the Legion gave me a chance to correct that," replied Rane. "Seems like another lifetime."
"The war can do that. I think about being with my wife, my kids, and it’s like its someone else’s life that I've been told stories about. Not stuff that happened to me. Only the pain makes it still feel real. That never seems to fade."
Rane could relate to that. "Where did you fight?"
"I joined up near Haverstock. Fought under Lord Rayner's banner. Which really meant we retreated a lot. My friends died around me. Somehow I didn't. Not because I was better than they were. I just missed Heras' hand when She came calling. May it long remain that way." William drew the sign of Odason over his chest. "What about you?"
Rane swallowed. He didn't talk about the war. Hated what had happened. What he'd done. What he'd become. But his secret was out now — the magic, the curse. He now knew why he'd loved fighting so much. Why he'd taken such pleasure in killing his enemies. But that knowledge didn't make the memories any easier to deal with. Even now, he could feel Kibon niggling away inside his mind, hungry for more, needing more.
