Sons of Evil: Book 1 Book of Dread

by Adams, David

  Kevin did not reply, just sat with his head hung, beaten.

  “Let’s sleep on it,” Darius suggested. “Might have a better feel for things tomorrow, plus we’ll be able to see what we’re doing.”

  Kevin remained silent, but assented by his actions, grabbing the book and starting back for the house while Darius put the axe away.

  *

  Darius found sleep hard to come by despite a long day toiling under a harsh summer sun. Thoughts of Sasha and the strange book whirled in his mind, but he could neither come to a satisfactory solution to the Stoneman family’s new problem, nor call a truce with his mental struggles so that he might get some rest. Finally in the darkest hours of the night exhaustion took him, and when he awoke he felt hardly more refreshed than if he had not slept at all.

  He found his father still at the kitchen table, the candle not out but burned low during the passage of the night. Kevin’s eyes did not even flick to Darius as he entered the room, but rather stayed fixed on the book. Kevin rested his chin on the thumbs of his folded hands, as if to steady his head for a staring contest with the book, a battle of wills he had no chance to win.

  By unspoken consent the family gathered in the kitchen and waited. Sasha was last to rise and still wore the haggard look of the hunted. She sat next to her father and squeezed his forearm, breaking the trance. He offered her a wan smile, then cleared his throat.

  “I see four options,” he said. “We destroy the book, hide it, try to find someone who might know how to deal with it, or return it. The last is not even worth consideration. The third opens us up to betrayal, and I would not even know where to begin to look. If we destroy it, we lose whatever is inside, which would deny Landri whatever power this thing represents, but would also mean we could not use it as a bargaining chip if it comes to that.

  “I care little for the book or what it holds, but if it might in some way protect Sasha, it will be preserved. I will find a safe place for it, known only to me, and Sasha will remain here, where we can look to her safety.”

  “It’s too dangerous for me to stay, father,” Sasha protested, “as much as I want to. Once they know that the book is gone, and I with it, they will surely come here to look for me.”

  “No doubt,” he replied evenly. “But we will be watchful, and when they come, we’ll hide you as surely as we’ll hide the book. Once they leave, you’ll be safer here than running from them forever, with no food or shelter.”

  “But I can—”

  He held up his hand. “My word on this is final.” He rose and said, “We have a lot of work that needs done. Farms don’t run themselves.” With that he took the book and walked out the door.

  The others watched the door for a moment, as if expecting something further to happen. Then Marissa said aloud to herself, “I guess I better get breakfast started,” and the others took that as a signal to begin their morning chores.

  *

  As the sun set in the west that evening, not a word to contradict or question the course of action Kevin Stoneman had prescribed was spoken by his family. But for the trepidation they all held in the their hearts, the day passed as any other, with only their frequent, watchful glances at the surrounding countryside indicating that something might be amiss.

  While the dim stars flickered in the hazy summer sky, Darius found a patch of ground where the grass had grown thick and long, and sat gazing heavenward. When he heard the soft swoosh of feet passing through the grass, he did not turn, but rather waited for his sister to join him.

  Sasha sat down, looking at her brother instead of the sky. “I can’t stay.”

  “I know.”

  For a while they listened to the cicadas singing to one another, a sound from a more peaceful time. A cool breeze gusted from the north. It was hard to believe anything could be wrong with the world on such a night.

  “Where will you go?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. South, I suppose, to where it will stay warm in winter. If I can find work in some small village I’ll take it.”

  “You can’t take the book with you.”

  She shrugged. “I can’t leave it here. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll find someone who might be able to open it.”

  “It’s our best hope,” he agreed. “But I’ll take the book, and head north.”

  Sasha’s eyes widened in surprise and fear. “No. I’ve already endangered everyone enough by coming here. If you’re found with the book…”

  “I’ll be no worse off than you would be. They won’t be looking for me, though.”

  “They will soon enough, but not because of the book. I thought your leave was over soon.”

  He nodded. “A few weeks from now. It may be enough time. If not…we’ll see.”

  Sasha shook her head. “Going missing from the army is as good as a death sentence. I know it must be awful fighting, but I’ve heard the king has been merciless with conscripts that refuse to do their duty.”

  “I’ve heard the same. And the war itself…well, it’s bad enough seeing men die, and knowing you’ve got to kill or be killed. But I’ve seen things, things no one should see…”

  “War is an awful, brutal thing.”

  “There are worse things,” he said, and he looked at her directly for the first time since she had joined him. There was a shadow behind his eyes that made her recoil, a fear that he would not name that she dared not ask about.

  “You know where the book is, don’t you?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Yes. I’ve known Dad’s hiding places since I was a kid. I bet Luke does too.”

  “You two had too much time to play spy,” she said with a laugh. “I guess there’s no chance of me talking you into getting the book for me and letting me take it.”

  He shook his head. “You need to do what you have to do, and so do I.”

  “You’re as stubborn as Dad,” she said.

  He took it as a compliment and returned it. “So are you. Must be a family trait.”

  Slowly the smile faded from Sasha’s face and she grew serious again. “Should we go tonight, or risk another day?”

  “You need rest, and we both could use some time to plan our next moves.” He grimaced and shook his head.

  “And we’re leaving tonight,” she stated.

  “No choice. If the king’s men come tomorrow, we’d never forgive ourselves, and even if they don’t, we’d be so distracted we’d likely give ourselves away.”

  She sighed, felt the tears coming, then held her brother close, wanting to say so many things, but sure her voice would simply be a choked-off squeak if she tried to speak. She felt the wetness on her cheek and realized Darius was weeping, and then she could hold her emotions in check no longer.

  *

  Darius had always hated goodbyes. He struggled to find the right words, the right facial expression, the right way to depart from those he loved. Now he found that not saying goodbye was even worse. Sasha was the hardest, because he had so many questions, and because he knew even if all went as well for both of them as he could hope, he still might never see her again. He wanted to know where she planned to go, what road she would take, what name she would use. But such information, in the wrong hands, could betray her, and as much as he knew he would never intentionally do anything to harm Sasha, he had heard enough about the methods used to make war prisoners talk that he did not trust himself with such knowledge. His parents might understand why he and Sasha had done what they did, assuming they pieced it together, but they could leave no note of explanation behind. At least he hoped to return home someday, so they would know his fate, and perhaps that of the book. Maybe he could even go south then, looking for Sasha, if things were right in Longvale.

  Leaving Luke was hardest for him. They had grown close, and not including him felt too dismissive, like Luke was the kid brother who could tag along for fun but who was sent away when there were important, grown-up things that needed to be done. Darius didn’t feel that way at all,
and wanted Luke to understand that he respected him as a friend and even as a man. He didn’t know how he could verbalize such thoughts even if given the opportunity—these things were easier to consider in one’s own mind than to say to a seventeen-year-old who would likely be embarrassed and crack wise to hide it—but he regretted he wouldn’t get the opportunity to try.

  Darius had left in the wee hours of the morning. He had quietly packed his few belongings and strapped on the sword the army had provided him. He collected enough food and water for a couple days, planning to find enough nourishment for the rest of his journey on the way. He left the house without looking in on the others, afraid he might wake someone, and he wasn’t sure as the door closed behind him if Sasha had already left or not. The moon had just passed full a few days back, so he had plenty of light to see what he was doing as he brushed away the loose dirt near the bottom of the grain silo, slid aside the wood plank that hadn’t been fastened in years, and reached inside one of his father’s favorite hiding places. He pulled out a canvas bag, checked to make sure the book was inside, then covered the hole once again. He doubted the king’s men would find such a spot without an extremely thorough search, but they had other ways of getting information that would render any secret liable to exposure.

  Darius had headed southwest, thinking to eventually come to the Old Road, which connected Longvale’s capital city of Old Bern to Anson’s Furnace. The initial portion of the trip was cross-country, as he wanted to avoid walking directly into Old Bern to get to the road, and Darius knew the area well enough that even at night he moved with decent speed. He knew he was now a fugitive of sorts, but only in his own mind. He had the correct papers, and the Old Road was an acceptable route to be taking to get back to his unit at the front. If any of the King’s Guard came upon him, even those who might be engaged in looking for the book, he would be a traveler with a solid story. Hopefully they wouldn’t demand to search his pack anyway...

  Anson’s Furnace was a possible destination for him, although he was hoping to find help at some of the smaller towns along the way. If it came to it, he could lose the book deep in Wyndham Forest or perhaps at the bottom of Westlong Lake, but what he really wanted was to get the book open and see what secrets it held. The more he thought about the problem, the memory of how the book resisted the axe his father wielded with such savage fury still fresh in his mind, the more he whittled down the possibilities. There was a chance an expert locksmith might know of some trick to keep an apparently keyless lock closed against physical attempts to open it, but that would have little to do with the cover resisting the edge of a sharp weapon. He was willing to admit to himself what his father never would, that some sort of magic was in play. Kevin Stoneman was a man of the earth, a farmer who lived by the sweat of his brow, who brought forth a crop through knowledge and hard work. Tales of sorcerers roaming the world had been just that to him, stories told for amusement or to wile away the hours of a dark winter evening. Darius had been brought up as his father had, and until he had gone off to war he would have been as reticent to come to such a conclusion about the book as his father, preferring to think it was made of some new material or alloy. But his time fighting for Longvale had changed him, and though he had not seen any wizards, he knew there were things in the world that couldn’t easily be explained. The problem would be finding someone skilled in the magic arts without drawing too much attention to himself, and then having enough trust in such a person to reveal the book and ask for help getting it open.

  The first day of his journey passed without event, Darius staying to goat paths and cart roads as much as possible. With the exception of a few noisy dogs, one of whom gave Darius a second dose of barking after he was well past, he managed to remain out of sight and unnoticed. As he gazed at the sun setting in a blaze of orange glory, he guessed that he was within a couple miles of the Old Road, and he thought he should start to look for a likely spot to spend the night. He munched on an apple as he went, taking his time with it, having decided it would have to suffice as dinner. As he was finishing, twilight arrived, and just at the edge of his perception he heard a noise that was out of place, a rustling of leaves and branches behind him and to the right without a corresponding gust of wind to explain it. He avoided turning or stopping, continuing forward with the same cautious gait, but he tossed the apple aside and swallowed the last bite of it so that the sound of his own chewing would no longer act as cover.

  His senses heightened, Darius wished the insects which had emerged with falling night could be silenced. The chirping and buzzing he found comforting when he slept under the stars was now an annoying background noise. Ten steps, then twenty, then thirty, and Darius wanted to relax, wanted to tell himself it had likely been a rabbit or a squirrel, nothing unexpected and surely no cause for alarm.

  A twig snapped, maybe twenty feet behind him.

  Darius’ fingers slid unbidden around the hilt of his sword as he froze in place. The lane on which he traveled—two dirt tracks where the carts had etched the ground from frequent use—was bordered by cornstalks on his left that stood as high as his head, and by a mix of trees, shrubs, and brush to his right, thick enough to hide a man or a large animal, especially in the growing dark. He strained his eyes to look ahead, but was unable to see a break in the cover that bordered his path where a pursuer would have to stop or show themselves.

  Starting forward again, he found a decent-sized stone. In one swift motion, he stopped, grabbed it, then wheeled and flung it into the woods, saying, “Go on, beat it,” in a voice just below a shout. If it was some animal or possibly a lone thief hoping to catch a traveler unaware, he hoped he might simply scare the source of the noise away.

  He expected no outward reaction and didn’t get one. He pressed ahead again, moving more swiftly now, thinking that if he was being pursued that he’d take away his tracker’s chance to move with any stealth. But the quicker pace made his own footfalls louder, and his breathing soon grew audible as well.

  The sounds of pursuit became unmistakable—a heavy rustle of leaves, a broken branch, then even a grunt that might have been pain.

  Darius stopped, turned, and steadied himself. His eyes searched the ever-darkening brush. He drew his sword, appreciating the grating sound of the blade against the scabbard.

  “I know you’re there,” he said. "Might as well come out now.”

  The only answer was the endless buzz of the cicadas.

  He picked up another stone, a bigger one, and flung it blindly into the woods. A few seconds later, much to his surprise, a smaller stone flew in his direction, just missing his left arm.

  “Cripes, Darius, put down the sword.”

  “Luke?”

  Another rock flew by, and then Luke emerged from the darkness of the trees. “And enough with the stones. You’re lucky you didn’t hit me, otherwise I would have actually tried to hit you, and I had a good enough view to do it, too.”

  Darius was too stunned to speak. He put away his sword, and waited with hands on hips as his younger brother approached.

  “Well?” Luke said. “Are you trying to catch flies with your mouth hung open like that?”

  In another time and place, Darius might have had to stifle a reflexive laugh, but not now. This errand was no game. “What are you doing here? How long have you been following me?”

  “Since you left.”

  “You’ve been tailing me since last night, and—”

  Luke finished the thought for him. “And you didn’t know until a few minutes ago. Thought that dumb dog was gonna give me away with all that yelping. But it was falling night that did me in. Figured I had to get closer not to lose you, though I thought I’d soon have to let you know I was here. Afraid I’d sleep in too late and you’d be gone tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay, so now you’re here. Why?”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  Darius shook his head and scowled. “Oh, no.”

  “Don’t see that you have m
uch choice. I’m here.”

  “Doesn’t mean you’re staying.”

  “Two can do better than one,” Luke reasoned. “One can watch while the other sleeps, stuff like that.”

  “You don’t even know what I’m doing.”

  Luke let out a snort of a laugh. “You don’t either, hauling that book around—”

  “Lower your voice,” Darius said in a sharp whisper, while a quick flash of anger flared in his eyes.

  “Sorry,” Luke replied in a quieter tone. “You’re not sure what to do with it. I heard you and Sasha talking. Besides, I’ve already helped.”

  “How has all this spying been of help?”

  “I put the book where you could find it. Dad quit using the silo as a hiding place over a year ago.”

  Darius, surprised again, didn’t respond immediately, and Luke jumped at the chance to keep pressing his case.

  “You and Sasha figured it right. She goes one way, the book another, and Mom and Dad don’t know anything so they can’t let anything slip. Problem is, I know too much. I’m safer, and so are you and Sasha, if I’m with you.”

  Darius mulled it over. “I don’t like it, and Mom and Dad will need you at the farm.”

  “They’ll need to do without me soon enough. The army men will come calling soon. Besides, this is a lot more important than gathering crops.”

  Darius started down the road again, grumbling aloud, “C’mon then. It’s too late to send you back now anyway, and I suppose I can’t order you home.”

  “No, but I’ll call you ‘Captain’ if it would make you feel better.”

  “Please don’t.”

  “Whatever you say, Captain.”

  Darius sighed heavily and half-wished he had another rock.

  Chapter 3: On the Road to Anson’s Furnace

  Darius briefly considered sneaking off when he woke the next morning, thinking maybe Luke would eventually give up and go home, but he realized his brother’s reasoning was sound, and if the King’s Guard came to the Stoneman home, none of them were truly safe anywhere. He stretched his aching muscles and breathed deep the cool morning air, allowing Luke a few extra minutes of rest. As the rising sun edged toward the horizon, Darius decided it was time, and so he reached under the bough of a large pine tree they had sheltered under and woke Luke.