Blood Rain

by Helix Parker

  The boy finally bounded over to their table, looking like a child who had had too many sweets. “Ah, a fair duo here to wash away the burdens of the day with a mug of ale. And what better goes with ale than a song of maidens and warriors? Or perhaps,” he said, looking at Edgar, “a song of frog princes turned fair and tall by the magic of mages and witches.”

  “I’m not a frog, you dolt. And I don’t have time for your—”

  Leon interrupted. “You can have your copper. In fact, the frog will pay you a silver, but you must give us a different song.”

  “And what would that be, my lord?”

  “A song of the whereabouts of the Marauder horde. Particularly their leader, Erebos.”

  The minstrel cleared his throat. “Perhaps a song about the fearful pirates of the isles of—”

  “No, I have told you my song.”

  The boy glanced around and lowered his voice. “Why do you want to know about them, my lord? No good can come of it, surely.”

  “It’s my song.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll not sing, but I will tell you if you wish to know. But it will do nothing but bring ruin upon you and the halfling.”

  “I’m not a—” Edgar started.

  “Just tell us,” Leon said, cutting off Edgar.

  The boy hesitated, pursing his lips. Edgar pulled out ten copper pieces, twenty times what the minstrel would make in a normal month, and placed it on the table.

  “Dolane,” the boy said, scooping up the coins and putting them in his pocket.

  “What about it?” Leon said.

  “The Marauders are planning an attack on Dolane.”

  “Are you certain?” Edgar asked. “Dolane is one of the largest cities in the world.”

  “They will attack Dolane, my lord. And when the city has fallen, Erebos will come to savor the destruction.”

  “When are they attacking?”

  “A fortnight. The king has not even sent an army to protect the city for he does not believe the rumors.”

  “If the king doesn’t believe them, why should we?” Edgar asked.

  The boy shrugged. “You came here because you know I hear everything. It is for you to decide whether what I hear is true or not. Now I must go. Other songs await.”

  Edgar stared after the boy as he left. “You’re going to base our entire plan on the conjecture of a minstrel of fifteen years?”

  “Minstrels are the best spies in the land. No one suspects them of anything, and people speak freely in front of them.”

  “So you think it’s true then? That they’re going to attack Dolane?”

  “A snake will oft turn on its caretakers.”

  Edgar shook his head. “I have seen what Marauders do to even a small village that puts up no fight. Taking a city of that size after they’ve battled and seen their fellows downed… it will be a slaughterhouse.”

  “Aye, it will, that. But we must always be selfish, remember? What does it matter to us if a million people die?”

  Edgar sipped his ale. “It doesn’t, not really. I’ve just never thought that men were capable of such destruction.”

  “You know, that would be the ideal place for us.”

  “Dolane? With twenty thousand Marauders in battle armor?”

  “After the city is taken. Erebos would not fight in the battle. And the city will be besieged once they understand they can’t defeat the horde. My guess is Erebos will savor the siege like a hunter who’s trapped an animal. He won’t be well guarded.”

  “And you think that’s when we should strike? How would we get away?”

  “We’ll need the witch.”

  Edgar finished his ale and grimaced. “Fine. Where is she? Another hermit out on a farm?”

  “She lives on a mountain.”

  “What mountain?”

  “The Mountain of a Thousand Ghosts.”

  He chuckled. “You’re just filled with children’s stories today, aren’t you?”

  “Have you ever been there?”

  “No.”

  “Then you can hardly say for sure whether ghosts live there or not.” Leon took a final drink of ale, slapped the mug back on the table, and stood. “I’ve been there. And I think you might be surprised.”

  23

  After purchasing more supplies, Edgar and Leon began their trek out of Bale. The cloth underneath Edgar’s legs made him itch, and the reins were too short for his dwarf arms and he cursed that he’d forgotten his specialty saddle. He had to lean forward to reach the reins in order to control the horse. But the short brown horse was obedient and seemed careful rather than reckless.

  Leon’s horse, however, bucked and sprinted all over the road. Leon had to grip the horse’s mane for a while, showing the beast who was in charge. Eventually, probably out of sheer exhaustion, the stallion slowed and began to trot.

  “Animals don’t seem to like you much,” Edgar said.

  Leon grimaced but said nothing.

  “How did you meet your wife?” Edgar asked, hoping for some conversation to pass the time.

  “I saved her from some bandits.”

  “Ah. The great Leon the Lion, Slaughterer of Men, saved the poor damsel in distress?”

  “I first saw her days before that. Initially, I was going to kill her.” He glanced at Edgar. “But there was something intriguing about her. It drew me in, and before I knew what was happening, I wished to give up everything to be with her. And she wished to give everything up for me. She was the daughter of a very powerful lord. She could have had any man under the stars, but she chose me. For that, I would die for her a thousand times.”

  “You care for her that much? That you would do all this for her?”

  “Have you never loved, dwarf?”

  “Yes. Well, no. I don’t know.”

  “Then you probably have not.”

  Riding and speaking became more difficult with the sun beating down upon them. Even Leon’s stallion, a beast with a rebellious and spirited heart, calmed to a slow canter, his head held low from the misery of the heat.

  Stopping at a stream, they refreshed themselves and their horses and sat in the shade a while.

  “How far is the mountain?” Edgar asked.

  “We’ll get there tonight.”

  “In the dark?”

  Leon grinned. “I thought you weren’t afraid of ghosts.”

  “I’m more afraid of the bandits that roam these roads at night. In case you hadn’t noticed, we haven’t seen another living soul out here since this morning.”

  “I noticed.”

  “Well, I would hate for our journey to be cut short because we lost all our money and our horses.”

  “We don’t need either, not really.”

  “We don’t need money? What will we do? Tickle Erebos to death? We need money for supplies and weapons, bribes… money makes everything happen.”

  “You’ve never killed a man, have you?”

  Edgar paused. “No.”

  “You need nothing fancy. Humans are ashes and dirt held together by souls for a brief period. And when the soul disappears, the ashes return to the earth. It takes almost nothing for the soul to leave: a hard strike, falling off a horse, not enough water, a kick to the chest. You do not need money to kill. The act itself is easy.”

  “You sound like someone who’s done it a lot.”

  Leon nodded. “More than I care to remember.”

  They rose and resumed their trek. The road grew more difficult to traverse, more gravelly and less smooth. The lesser-kept way was a sign that they were far from cities, and upkeep was not a priority for that section.

  The vast open plains and grasslands turned to thin forests, and the howls of brown monkeys and the caws of cloud birds surrounded them.

  Edgar spotted an atrocious-looking lizard lying flat on its belly in the path. Its belly was distended with fat and nearly touched its toes. As they rode by, its disgusting green tongue, wet with slime, slithered out of its mouth and taste
d the air then retreated. “I’ve never been fond of nature,” he said.

  “You lived in a small village. There’s hardly a difference.”

  “Oh, there’s a big difference, my friend. Women swept, and children killed the insects, snakes, and lizards. I hardly saw them at all.”

  He smiled. “You scared of insects, little man?”

  Edgar didn’t respond.

  Leon laughed. “All your talk of bravery and taking down the Marauders, and you’re frightened of a bee?”

  “I never said I was frightened. And bees can kill you if they sting too much.”

  Leon guffawed.

  “What?” Edgar asked. “Just because you’re not scared of dying doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t be.” He scowled. “Where is this damn witch of yours anyhow?”

  “I told you, in the Mountain of a Thousand Ghosts. Hope you’re braver around spirits than grasshoppers.”

  24

  Darkness fell quickly. The road had faded long ago and was no more than a dirt path. The riders were having trouble navigating their horses without them veering off into the forest to nibble on berries and roots. The sky was black, and no moon or stars could be seen. The shawl of blackness threatened to fall over them as they sauntered down their little path.

  As the forest thinned, the moon came into view, and Edgar saw a mountain in the distance. The peak jutted to the sky like a spearhead, a perfect triangle of stone.

  Leaving the forest behind, they entered the valley before the mountain. When they came to a small stream, they stopped to allow their horses to drink.

  “You know,” Edgar said, “that the ‘thousand ghosts’ here are just groups of wicked men escaping the king’s law, don’t you?”

  “There are certainly those.”

  “And you think as poorly armed as we are we can handle them in the dark?”

  Leon looked over at him. “You’ve hired me to help you kill or capture possibly the most powerful man in the realm, and you’re worried about some thieves?”

  “I didn’t say I was worried. I asked if we could handle them.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  Edgar scowled.

  When the horses had gotten their fill of water and even managed to graze a little, Edgar and Leon mounted up and began riding. The path widened but remained little more than dirt, and the horses’ hooves made almost no sound. At the base of the mountain, a gravel trail led up toward the massive stones and caverns. Leon went ahead without a hitch or hesitation, but Edgar stopped and surveyed his surroundings.

  “And this is how people get killed,” he mumbled.

  The gravel trail was not difficult to manage, but the noise from the hooves displacing the stones made Edgar nervous. He glanced from one side of the trail to the other and then behind him and up ahead. He shivered several times, and that only added to his anxiety. Leon, however, seemed unfazed. He had a steely resolve that didn’t seem to be affected by fear.

  Around a bend, caverns appeared like gaping mouths, and Edgar discovered the reason the place was called the Mountain of a Thousand Ghosts. The wind howled through the openings, making a noise like the groans of men and women in pain. He cleared his throat as if that would break the spell.

  Leon glanced back at him. “You all right?”

  “Fine,” Edgar said, gripping the reins of his horse tightly.

  “The horses are not afraid. When the horses become afraid, that is when you should be afraid. Not before.”

  “Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel better.”

  The trail led around the caverns, and they came so close to one that Edgar could see inside it. The hollow blackness appeared to go down into the center of the earth. A chill went through him, and he thought it might be cold. He reached for the furs he had packed on the back of his horse when a stone tumbled down from above.

  “What was that?” Edgar asked.

  “A stone,” Leon said, looking upward.

  “I know it was a stone, but where’d it come from?”

  Leon stopped his horse and scanned the surrounding cliffs. “We’re not alone. Keep riding and ignore it. Keep your eyes forward.”

  They came to another bend and then another set of caverns. Stones and loose gravel fell frequently, as though someone—or something—large was stomping around overhead. Edgar tried to keep his eyes forward as Leon had asked, but he couldn’t help but look up occasionally. However, he never saw anyone. A stone pegged one of the horse’s legs, causing the animal to neigh.

  “Maybe we should come back during the daylight,” Edgar suggested.

  “She’s most active at night. This is the time to ask for a favor if that’s what we intend to do.”

  More stones fell, then an avalanche of them. Hundreds of rocks, some as large as fists, tumbled down the cliff side. Edgar’s horse veered off the trail.

  Something hissed.

  A creature the size of a man with black matted fur covering its head appeared in front of him. The creature reached out a clawed hand and raked it down the horse’s neck. The beast whinnied and bucked. Caught off guard, Edgar was thrown to the ground.

  The creature raised its arms and roared. It spied Edgar and reached for him. Edgar screamed.

  The creature suddenly froze, and a blade came out of its chest. The thing shrieked and caused an awful din that echoed through the caverns. The creature spun around, and Edgar saw that Leon had stabbed it in the back with his sword.

  The thing struck Leon in the face and knocked him off his feet. The blade was still sticking out of its chest, but it hardly seemed to notice at all. Leon thrust up both legs and kicked the creature back, buying him enough time to roll to his feet. The horses dashed away. A minute later, Edgar heard them screaming as though they were being eaten alive. He assumed more creatures had caught them farther down the trail.

  The creature rushed at Leon again, and Edgar got to his feet. He grabbed a large rock and flung it at the creature. The rock bounced off the thing’s back, not even getting its attention. As he reached for another stone, a grumbling roar bellowed from behind him.

  He turned to see another creature standing a yard away. In the darkness, all he could see was the general shape and the horrible, large eyes that glowed dimly like buttery gems.

  The creature moved forward and swiped at him. Edgar dove between its legs. It turned and sank its claws into his calf and lifted him into the air by his legs. The thing let out a roar, and bits of putrid fur and flesh from whatever it had eaten last flew into Edgar’s face.

  A sword flew into its eye, and it immediately dropped Edgar. Edgar hit the ground as the creature backed away, yelping like an injured dog.

  Leon ran and tackled it to the gravel, pulling at his sword in an attempt to dislodge it for another blow. The creature snapped at Leon, but he rolled out of the way, just inches from the potent jaws. He spun all the way onto his back, both hands on the hilt of the sword, and it tore out of the thing’s head. So quickly it appeared as one motion, Leon spun the other way, and the blade went into the creature’s throat. He sat up, his full body on the hilt. The blade slipped in and bored through the thing’s neck.

  The creature thrashed violently for a time and then slowed. It couldn’t breathe or remove the blade and it lay whimpering, knowing it was about to die.

  Leon stood panting beside Edgar. More creatures descended from the caverns. Surrounded, Edgar felt a tightening in his chest. Without a single place to run, he put his back to Leon, watching as dozens of the beasts climbed down, snarling.

  A light burst forth so brightly, Edgar felt as if he were looking into the sun. He squeezed his eyes shut. The brightness grew in ferocity, and the creatures squealed and scampered back to the darkness of their caves. Even the ones eating the horses left, though with ragged chunks of wet meat in their mouths.

  When Edgar opened his eyes again, an elderly woman with a staff stood in front of him. The staff was wooden with an intricate design. A gem embedded at the top glo
wed softly.

  “Why have you come to this place, halfling? You and your friend—” She gasped and lowered her head.

  Leon turned to her. “How have you been, Priestess?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Is that any way to say hello to an old friend?”

  “No, I am… surprised is all.”

  “What were those things?” Edgar asked, out of breath.

  “Crawlers. They live in the caverns in this mountain.”

  “The light was blinding.”

  She looked up to Leon again, but lowered her head just as quickly. “Just a simple trick, halfling.”

  “We need your help, Naspen,” Leon said.

  She paused then gestured at the side of the mountain. “Best not to stay here. The crawlers have a queen that’s much larger and more ferocious. Come with me.”

  25

  Naspen led them to a plateau that hung over the lower base of the mountain and valley. She gently used her staff to draw a circle in the dirt. The sand inside the circle was sucked into the ground. Stairs appeared, and she descended. Leon followed immediately, but Edgar turned to check the trail leading back to the caverns. Seeing no more of the creatures, Edgar hurried to catch up with them.

  Naspen’s staff illuminated enough of the space for Edgar to see the stone steps winding down as if they were in an upside-down tower. Several times, he had to quicken his pace because the steps were high enough to make the descent difficult for his short legs.

  “What is this place?” he asked.

  “A castle,” Leon whispered. “The mountain was formed over it.”

  “How does a mountain form over a castle?”

  Leon didn’t respond, and Edgar was too out of breath to repeat his question. He was relieved when they finally reached the bottom. A long corridor lay before them. Torches hung on the walls on either side. Even though they were underground, he felt safer than he had on the surface.

  A draft from somewhere made the torches flicker, casting shadows over the walls. The ceiling and floors were made of carved brick. They turned a corner and entered a vast hall. On the walls were banners of ancient families he didn’t recognize and swords and shields rusted and covered in cobwebs. Windows were spaced evenly throughout the hall, but all of them were broken and, in their place, stone crept inside.