By Moonlight Wrought (Bt Moonlight Wrought)

by Crandall, John

  Never before had Dirk thought of Tallow as a real woman; only a child, or worse yet, a thing: a possession. He realized that his resentment stemmed from his lack of respect for her. She was something for him to use, someone to hide him from his friends when he was mad at them: someone to do what he said when no one else would listen. She was someone who needed him more than he needed her; someone who did not merit respect. But her tears showed her differently. Her devotion, he realized, came not from her desire for an easy life or for money, but for her love for him. She did not argue. She did not strike him or tell him what she thought, and Dirk knew it was not out of weakness. She was truly one of the strongest people he knew. She hid her pain well and drove on, not allowing her sadness or fear or anything else cloud her judgment or darken her days. If only Dirk could be so valiant.

  Since Cinder’s death, Dirk viewed no one else as being worth his affection. Nobody could compare with Cinder, and her loss made him bitter. Of all the people that he knew, Cinder, and the role she played in his life, would be the hardest to replace. Only Melissa came even close in his heart to the dependency he felt toward another person. Though Dirk realized all this, he could not completely control himself and sometimes, often, his callousness showed painfully through. But tonight, he held onto Tallow and kissed the back of her neck and shoulders gently as he whispered soft words of love to her, words of understanding, appreciation, and affection. Soon, the girl fell asleep, a smile on her gentle face. Dirk hoped that when the Fiend was finally killed, he could let go of the pain and the anger of Cinder’s death, and he could feel as whole and complete as he had prior to her leaving him. This girl, this woman, beside him deserved better. He hated the Fiend that grew inside him; the Fiend he saw in Fiona, Selric and everyone else. Everyone it seemed, but Melissa.

  Selric walked into Mendric’s room. His brother’s ear was heavily bandaged and his cheek, swollen and bruised. Alanna lay sleeping in a chair next to the bed, leaning forward, her head resting upon his chest, Mendric’s arm around her shoulder. Selric did not want her to be uncomfortable, but he decided to let her wake on her own, so he turned and left, checking on Melissa and Will, who both now slept in his room, along with Fiona who lay propped in a chair. Not finding Dirk anywhere, Selric went up to sleep in Alanna’s bed, more accurately Brandon’s bed, and felt Alanna come in several hours later.

  In the morning, Fiona, Selric, and Alanna had breakfast at the great table and decided that afterward they should take Melissa home. So, they carried her down and laid her in the prepared wagon. Fiona ordered her to lie still at least until she got home, “Then we’ll see,” she told her with a smile. Selric and Alanna waved goodbye as Fiona drove out the gate.

  “I guess he got away,” Alanna said as she went back inside, holding onto Selric’s arm, “or someone would have told me. I was worried about you. Why didn’t you wake me last night?”

  “You were sleeping peacefully. Both of you. I knew if you stirred, you’d come up to bed.”

  “What happened?” she asked, squeezing his hand tightly.

  “Nothing. We were ambushed and he shot Melissa. When he moved around behind us, Mendric found him and they fought until we arrived. Then he fled, the Fiend I mean.”

  “So Mendric fought him, or It?” she asked, wondering why the knight had not killed the murderer.

  “Yes, let’s go see him,” Selric said. Alanna agreed, eager to check on him. When they walked in, Mendric opened his eyes.

  “Well, Selric, did I get him, or was it a dream?”

  “When I got there, you were out and he was nowhere to be found,” said Selric.

  “I stabbed him. I got him good with my dagger, several times.”

  “I know. I saw the blood on it. But I wasn’t sure whose it was. But no, he was gone.” Mendric looked at Alanna, at her eager face, as if she had been in a dream of his and he smiled.

  “Hello, dear,” he said.

  “Hi, Mendric. Do you feel better?” she asked, coming from behind Selric to take Mendric’s hand into both her trembling ones, her face red with blush. He brought his other one around and patted hers, then raised them to his lips and kissed them briefly, his great strength and fortitude giving him the power to quickly fight off the effects of the poison.

  “Let’s give him some peace,” Selric said.

  “No, please. Don’t leave me here staring at the ceiling,” Mendric pleaded. “Stay and talk.” He patted the bed on his other side, in hopes that Selric would sit. Then, in Stormweather flair, he began his story of the previous night’s battle, as well as he could recall.

  Later that day, Will went for a walk. He still had not gotten the full story, and he didn’t like being left out of anything, everything, especially the previous night. “I thought I was part of the group. I loved Cinder, too,” he thought. He went into a doorway and sat on the dry, clean step, and began to sob, rubbing his eyes. “I’ll kill that old Fiend. Cinder was pretty and nice, and now everybody’s sad and no one even wants to see me. I hate him for making everyone like this.” Just then, Will felt his sadness leave, pushed out by feelings of great anxiety, and he looked up. Through the haze of tears, he could barely make out a large dark shape that loomed before him: The Fiend!

  Will bolted like a rabbit, this way and that, crawling on all fours rather than taking the time to rise and run, but It grabbed him by the waist and lifted him up. Will kicked frantically, but to no avail and he began sobbing in fear. The Fiend raised a great boot and kicked the door ahead of him, knocking it off its hinges and onto the floor with a “boom.” Then It stepped inside.

  “Help!” Will screamed. “Help!” The Fiend slammed Will to the floor, knocking the wind from his lungs, then drew Its hooded face close to the trembling boy’s, nothing visible within the hood but two sickening green orbs.

  “Not so brave, now, are you, whelp? Black turd, am I? I’d slit you open like a little fish, and then strangle you with your own guts! But I have other plans for you.” Its voice was so deep that it rumbled within Will’s own chest, like tremendous thunder so close that it shakes the earth. As It pulled back, light penetrated the hood and even in dark shadows Will could see Its face was the same twisted horror that Cinder had seen in her last minutes, the same face It showed when the evil and the wicked could no longer be contained in the human body, and forced their way out uncontrollably.

  “You’ll tell your precious master that I want to meet them, not the Watch, not any outsiders, just them, in the same place. I’m wounded and I want this over with. I want them off my trail and I’m sure they want their precious revenge. Sunset. Tell him!” It bellowed, then rose up like a vast dark tower and stepped over Will and stomped away into the building somewhere, Its boots sounding like great drum beats, shaking the very floor.

  Will lay still, unable to move for several moments, then he ran. He ran, practically flying, all the way to the Stormweather’s, where he relayed as much as he could recall. Alanna hugged and calmed him; but he would remain terribly frightened for some time.

  “That’s it,” Selric said angrily. “It’s time to get rid of this bastard once and for all. Take care of each other,” he said to Will and Alanna without so much as pausing a second when they protested.

  Dirk was in his room when Selric popped open the door. Dirk relaxed, putting his sword away when he saw who it was. “You’re gonna get killed sneakin’ up like that,” Dirk said.

  “I wasn’t sneaking,” Selric said. Tallow was sitting on the bed with Dirk, leaning against the wall, a book in her hand. “Hello,” Selric said to her.

  “Hi,” she answered.

  “Selric, this is Tallow,” Dirk said as he continued sharpening his sword with a whetstone. “Tallow, this is Selric Stormweather. He’s in our...group, I guess you could call it.” Tallow wanted to ask if he was one of the Stormweathers, but did not have the chance.

  “Dirk,” Selric said, after looking strangely at him; he did not know that Dirk had any other friends and he did not know
what kind of friends they were or how close. “Will was caught by Svenson today.” Dirk leapt to his feet, worried, but Selric quickly allayed his fears. “He’s fine. The Fiend sent a message with him. We’re to meet him at the same place at sunset. He wants it over and knows we do as well. He wants us off his ass. He says he’s wounded. I think we three should go now, not sunset. We’ll set a trap of our own.” Tallow looked surprised. She had asked Dirk before if she could help him.

  “Me?” she asked.

  “No,” Selric said as if she were a fool, then remembered his manners and smiled. She could not help but smile back at his incredibly handsome face. “No Tallow: me, Dirk, and Fiona.”

  “What about Missy?” Dirk asked. Tallow had never heard of any Missy before.

  “Mel’s not ready. I already saw Fiona.” Tallow put Mel and Missy together and knew that it was Melissa whom they were talking about. She knew Dirk’s love for her, even if he had never admitted it.

  “Well I am,” Dirk said. “Let me dress and we’ll go.” He walked to the ladder.

  “What about your armor?” Selric asked, pointing to his leather hanging on the rack.

  “No, I want something else. Goodbye, Tallow,” Dirk said, sheathing his sword. She ran to Dirk and squeezed him hard. She wanted to beg him not to go, but she knew it would be useless and only make her seem selfish and uncaring about Cinder. She kissed him and watched him leave, Selric right behind with another kind smile for her. He mouthed the word “goodbye.”

  Dirk went downstairs to the arms and armor department and found a highly polished steel breastplate and an open-faced steel helm. Then, he took a large kite shield, war axe, short sword, and two throwing knives; this time he would be prepared. Selric assisted him into the armor then they saddled Dirk’s horse, Thegoric. They rode north and met Fiona at the Stormweather estate, where all three walked to the rendezvous point. They stopped by to see Bullward, but he had apparently been revived; the tent was gone. They entered the building and found the window where the Fiend had fired on them and explored as much of the structure as they could, so as to know it by heart in the coming darkness. Selric set a few snares which would alert them when tripped, and Dirk blocked off several doors, making entry to their part of the structure possible only through selected routes. Then, they sat and they waited for their enemy to arrive.

  It was after dark, about twenty minutes, and there still was no sign of the Fiend. “Well?” Dirk asked.

  “I’m going down,” Selric said. “Maybe he’s hiding somewhere else, waiting for us.”

  “No, Selric should stay. He’s got his crossbow,” Fiona said. “Cover us Selric.” She and Dirk moved cautiously down the stairs in the dark, and made their way out into the street. Dirk raised his shield and walked on, the silence and the threat of a possible melee had his heart racing and adrenaline pumping fiercely. Fiona had bought herself a chainmail armor shirt, and a shield as well that day, hoping that combined with her enchanted ring she would be impervious. She followed behind Dirk, her mace at the ready.

  They had passed nearly out of Selric’s view, when he whistled them back. He ran down the stairs and met them in the street. “Let’s start searching the buildings, but first let’s go to where he fought Mendric. We’ll go everywhere we went last night, so we cover it all. Who knows where he meant when he said “the same place”,” Selric said. The three searched for half-an-hour and found nothing.

  “What’s it mean?” asked Dirk then.

  “It means that he set us up,” Fiona said.

  “A trap,” said Selric.

  “If it’s a trap, why doesn’t he get us?” Dirk pressed.

  “It’s not a trap for us,” Fiona said.

  “Tallow!” Dirk gasped as he tried to run off.

  “Wait,” Selric said, grabbing him. “Come with us. Your horse is over at Fiona’s. We’ll go past my place, it’s on the way, then to hers, then get our horses and ride to Bessemer’s. We should get there just as quickly as if we were to walk directly there from here. I’ll even send guards down that way when we get to the estate.” They ran as quickly as they could to the Stormweather villa.

  Selric found Alanna and Will safe in Mendric’s room, Alanna reading stories aloud. With only a brief explanation Selric left and sent a dozen Stormweather guards to Bessemer’s to check on Tallow and to wait there until ordered differently. It was only seven blocks to Fiona’s so they ran, not wanting to wait and saddle the horses. As they rounded the last corner, the Fiend’s plan became dreadfully apparent.

  Bear Fellaxe, barbarian northman, unable to make another sled run due to the gates being closed by royal decree, had holed up in the city as best he could. As he did occasionally, he had gone to see Dirk. When he heard from Tallow that Melissa had been injured, he vowed to “go round her place and cheer her a bit.” Bear thought a good sled ride would help, passing swiftly over the snowy streets. So he rode up. By the time he located her home it was after dark and as he neared, the dogs grew strangely anxious. Then, Bear noticed the two huge black wolves lurking near the doorway, the doorway he knew to be Melissa’s, according to Dirk’s directions he had gotten days ago while during a regular visit. The wolves snarled at Bear’s approach, so he stopped and released the dogs.

  The sixteen huge beasts, which had attacked wolves, bears, even trolls, showed no fear and soon swarmed over the monsters. Bear fetched his axe and ran forward. The dogs were in a fierce fight that Bear did not have time to see finished: the door stood ajar. He ran inside where, near the door the fat man, Marlo, lay dead; his stomach cut open. On the stairs ahead lay tall Donagee; his throat gashed, one arm missing, and with a great wound to his chest. Bear bound past them, nimbly guiding his gigantic frame up the stairs. But just as he reached the second floor he was confronted by a huge black form nearly as large as himself. It was coming down toward him from a higher floor, Melissa in Its arms. The Fiend dropped Melissa and drew Itself up, even larger than the northman, seeming to fill the entire room as Bear stepped uncontrollably back.

  Bear gathered himself, let out a bellow and rushed forward, his axe flashing down. But the weapon was turned aside, wrenched from his grasp. Bear was not taken aback, and pummeled the shadow in the head. It reeled, then regained It’s composure as Bear grabbed It in a great hold, trying to squeeze the breath from It. Bear also latched on with his teeth, biting into the thick hide, or armor, he didn’t know which. Momentarily, he had the Fiend, but It turned the tables by knocking Bear’s grip loose and grabbing him in turn. It squeezed the northman and he heard his own ribs crack from the immense strain on his spine. He screamed. Bear knew that if he did not act quickly, his back would break next. He slammed his broad, scarred forehead into the face of the Fiend, and It shrieked, releasing It’s hold.

  Bear whipped out his long hunting knife, wheezing from his cracked ribs, and he lunged. But the Fiend slashed his face, and as Bear raised his arms for protection, It brought Its knife up into his middle, slicing through leather, hides, furs, muscle, and flesh. Bear fell forward, bleeding profusely. The Fiend struck him twice in the back for good measure, but knew time was precious. Bear tried to rise as the Fiend hauled the unconscious woman away, but for all he was worth he could not stand. He lay there, feeling his life slip away, weeping for Melissa’s fate and his inability to help her. He screamed his rage, calling for anyone to help his friend, then darkness came.

  Dirk saw Bear’s sled, and nearby his dogs were growling and tearing at the carcasses of two black creatures Dirk recognized as the wolves, or two very much like the others, that had chased him and Cinder. Selric and Fiona ran up the steps and inside, Fiona screaming frantically for Melissa. Dirk saw that three of the dogs were mutilated, another four were so badly hurt that they would have to be destroyed. He felt satisfaction that the beasts that had so terrified sweet Cinder now lay dead, though he was sorry for the brave dogs at his feet. “Dirk!” he heard Fiona call, then his mind returned to him and he remembered Melissa.

  He qu
ickly ran inside and saw Marlo and Donagee. “What did we do,” he thought, “bringing the wrath of this thing on us and our friends?” He held his head in pain and remorse. He hated death and wished that the nightmare his life had become would go away. “Dirk!” he heard Fiona call again, this time from up the stairs. Dirk ran up, his heart racing, blood cold at the fear of finding the most important person in his life dead in her bed.

  Bear lay in a tremendous pool of blood. Tears filed Dirk’s eyes as he fell beside his friend. “Bear,” he called.

  “I tried to stop him, Dirk. He took Melissa. Carried her off.” Fiona came back down from upstairs; she looked totally lost and disheveled. Selric was behind her.

  “Relarius is dead,” Selric said. “Aldren’s wounded upstairs. Mel’s gone.” Fiona looked at Bear, not knowing him when she passed by him the first time; besides, he had seemed very dead.

  “I thought he was one of the one’s who did this,” she said kneeling down. She realized that Dirk knew him when she saw his expression. “Oh, Dirk. He’s a mess. I just don’t know.”

  “Please. He tried to stop Svenson,” Dirk pleaded.

  “Little woman,” Bear said. “Do not worry. I’m prepared to meet my gods.” Dirk motioned for her to try her magic anyway, even against Bear’s protests. Bear looked at him. “Do not heal me!” he warned Fiona, then looked back to Dirk. “Go get her. She will make a good mate.” He paused. “Don’t wrestle him. He’ll break your back...never felt such strength.” Bear’s eyes closed.