by Adams, David
Silas shrugged and smiled softly, clearly taking no offense. “Grab your brother’s sword then, and come at me.”
The challenge caught Luke off-guard. “I’d be afraid I might hurt you.”
“Not your problem. I need a workout anyway. Darius, give him your sword.”
Darius drew the blade slowly and offered it to Luke. “I’m not sure this is a good idea. We don’t need an injury.”
“I agree,” said Luke. “This is dangerous.”
“I promise I won’t injure you severely,” said Silas. He took his stick in both hands, holding it comfortably in front of himself.
“Silas, I—”
“Come on, Junior. Unless you’re looking to talk me to death.”
Luke sighed, then made a half-hearted lunge at the cleric, bringing the blade around in a cautious sweep, as if expecting to have to stop it inches from Silas’ ribs.
Silas spun the stick so quickly it seemed to have leapt from one point to another. It batted the sword aside, catching the flat of the blade, and Silas bounced back a couple of steps. “Better come in hard next time, boy. I’m not going to just parry this time.”
Luke did come in hard, too hard, charging when he should have moved with steady purpose, and hacking wildly. Again the blow was blunted, but this time the staff changed direction, taking Luke in the back of the knees. No sooner was he off his feet than Silas knocked the sword from his hand and brought the staff down hard, stopping within a long whisker of Luke’s face.
“Not much of a workout,” Silas said, “but we can practice in our spare time.” He offered an embarrassed Luke a hand and helped him up.
“I suppose if I grab the sword and lunge at you again when your back’s turned, I’ll end up on the seat of my pants again.”
“You would. But you’re too smart for that, I would bet. Emotion throws off your balance, and only a fool repeats what’s already proven a failure.”
While Darius put away the sword, Adrianna handed Luke the stick Silas had offered him, and added a pat on the back. “If it makes you feel any better, the staff is his chosen weapon, and he likely could disarm a group of trained soldiers.”
“ ‘Chosen weapon,’ ” Darius repeated. “I thought you were a cleric, a man of God.”
“And so I am. One who can defend himself as needed.”
“What about the meek inheriting the world?” Darius asked.
“They might inherit it,” Adrianna said, “but while they’re waiting, the strong will try to take it by force.”
Silas shook his head and let out a grunt of a laugh. “Why don’t you leave the theology to me?”
“Be glad to, and I’ll handle the magic. Think your friend Barlow will agree to that arrangement?”
Silas shrugged. “One can always hope.”
*
Another long day’s march had stolen away their will for conversation, and as the sun neared the horizon they passed silently into a narrow lane shrouded by tall oaks that grew on both sides. In the canopy above, a sound grew, a rustling noise as of hundreds of birds moving about. The large green leaves hid the winged creatures, which nestled high up, from the gazes of the humans traveling below.
Silas was bringing up the rear, and like the others he had been lost somewhere in his own thoughts when the growing noise from above finally penetrated his consciousness. He studied the trees, not liking the fact that he couldn’t see the source of the sound, which increased the further down the lane they passed. He paused, then gave a soft whistle to get the attention of his companions. When they turned to look at him, he motioned for them to stop and be quiet. Slowly the four of them drew together.
“What is it?” Adrianna asked in a whisper.
“That sound,” he answered, pointing to the trees.
“Just birds, right?” Luke asked, unsure now because of the look on Silas’ face.
“I don’t think so. Darius, I’m sure you’ve noticed the way carrion will trail the armies.”
Darius nodded.
“Noticed any other flying scavengers, some that may or may not be birds?”
“We thought they were bats,” Darius said. “Big, ugly ones. To be honest, I try not to watch when they come. It’s disgusting and…well, next time that might be me.”
“I don’t blame you. And these things do appear to be kin to bats, if you ever see one up close. I’ve heard rumors of them becoming more aggressive, too. Going after livestock—living I mean, not dead.”
This comment made them all gaze upward again, and each shrunk away a bit more from the overhanging boughs of the trees.
“I don’t think we should be under here once it gets dark,” Adrianna said, gesturing at the setting sun, which now appeared to be racing for the horizon as if it wanted to hide too.
“I agree,” said Darius. “Should we go back? I can’t see the end of this lane going forward.”
“That would probably be best,” Silas said. He turned and managed to take a few steps before a high-pitched chattering noise started above them. It grew in volume, the unseen creatures above calling and answering one another.
Darius drew his sword, the sound of metal-on-metal drowned out by the cacophony around them. Luke gripped his staff so tightly his knuckles went white.
Like an explosion the creatures took wing. They soared over the tops of the trees, going north, and were far more numerous than even the most pessimistic of the travelers would have guessed. In the fading light of day, they almost appeared as one large blanket, nearly blotting out the sky that had been visible above the lane. They kept up their chattering as they took flight, a sound that sent chills down every spine. They moved swiftly, and from the ground one could make out only the rough form of a large bat, with claw-like feet that dangled well below thick, leathery wings, and a body colored a mottled gray and red. Only when the creatures were well out of sight did someone venture to speak.
“Didn’t see us, or smell us,” Silas guessed. “If we can find a sheltered spot for the night, I think that would be good.”
The others agreed, and Adrianna added, “Wish we weren’t going the same way as those things.”
As they resumed their hike under the trees, Darius moved close to Silas. “I’ve never seen them in numbers like that.”
“Nor I, especially this far from the war. I wish I knew what it meant.”
“It can’t be good.”
“No, it can’t.” With a sigh, he walked on.
*
They were able to find shelter in an abandoned barn that evening, and when the next day broke crisp and clear, it was hard, looking at the picture-perfect sky, to imagine trouble of any sort was happening in Corterra.
“A morning like this makes you feel alive,” Silas said as he drew in a deep breath and let his chest rise and fall. “Gorgeous.”
Darius smelled the sweet fragrance on the air, but his smile was troubled. “When I was in the army, days like this made me melancholy. Seemed wrong that people would die on such a day, but die they did. Never known the sunshine to delay a General’s plans or change a murderous heart.”
“Wow,” Luke observed. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to depress everyone. It’s just…”
Adrianna finished the thought, “You’ve seen too much to think everything is as peaceful as it is here at this moment.”
Darius nodded.
“I have, too,” Silas said, “but dwelling on it won’t help us today. Be on guard, always, but while we have such a day, be thankful and enjoy it while it lasts.”
What joy they took lasted until just past noon. They crested a small hill, and before them was a farm, no different than most they had come across on their journey, a small home with some land for growing crops and some livestock, a family working to get by in the world. But a stillness hung over the place like a black cloud, and though they could see little until they moved closer, they all instinctively knew something was wrong.
Darius called i
t first, pointing to where a group of cows lay in the field. “Those bat-creatures came this way.”
As they neared the fallen animals, a stench of blood and death assaulted them. The cows looked less like what they had been the closer they drew, having been gutted viciously, what was left of their hides covered with puncture wounds received from hundreds of small, sharp teeth. Luke turned green and had to stop, but he couldn’t manage to take his eyes off the slaughtered animals.
“This is what I meant,” Silas said softly. “They’ve become more aggressive.”
“They’ve never been shy at the front. You could tell when they were near from the way the horses would start and carry on. And they usually ran off any other carrion once they decided to claim a prize. But at least they kept their distance from the army. Wonder if it will stay that way.”
Silas looked past Darius for a moment, then said, “Why don’t you tend to your brother. Looks like he could use some fresh air, and there’s nothing we can do here.”
Affected less by Silas’ words than his expression, he followed the cleric’s gaze and saw that Adrianna was moving away, going alone toward the house. “Guess she needed some fresh air too.”
“Hmpf,” was all Silas managed for a reply.
Darius moved Luke away from the carnage, and a few minutes later Silas joined them, casting a worried look back at the house every few seconds. At last Adrianna reappeared, carrying a dirty sack and moving with purpose.
When she arrived, she opened the sack and dropped one of the bat-things at their feet. Its head lolled to one side, its neck broken, and blood still stained the row of sharp teeth visible in its open mouth. Its eyes were open in death, and were a solid black, adding to its malicious appearance. Its proportions set it apart from a bat, the wings, head, and claws seeming too large for the body. Up close the gray and red mottling of its skin gave it a sickly look, and it was hairless except for a tuft on top of its head. Its ears were round and centered on the side of its head, and all-in-all it looked far too much like a mutated child that had grown wings.
“Things got in the house,” Adrianna stated flatly.
“Were there—” Silas stopped himself. Adrianna’s face was all the answer he needed.
“It was a family of four, as best as I can tell. Must be at least thirty of these things scattered about as well. The farmer’s family put up a fight, but from the looks of the place…”
“You needn’t speak of it anymore,” said Silas.
“Only one more thing. The windows were shattered and the door open. Whether that happened during the fight or before, I can’t say. But I saw several roof shingles bent and broken, as well as many boards that made up the walls of the home damaged in like fashion.”
“What are you saying?” Darius asked.
“That those things apparently were tearing the house apart to get inside. That even shuttered windows and locked doors won’t guarantee our safety, or anyone else’s.”
*
Kaelesh let the horse move along at a plodding gait, every hoofbeat kicking up a small cloud of dust in the sweltering midday heat. The soldiers that marched with him were covered with sweat and grime, but there was nary a grumble or a dirty look amongst them. All knew better than to get on the wrong side of Landri’s top advisor. Even on a day such as this, Kaelesh did not appear to sweat, and felt no need to pause for water, and therefore the men would march without drinks as well. He moved slowly, not for them or for the horse, but because it pushed them toward their limits in a different way than a fast march would have, the long, slow grind testing them and their willpower. And Kaelesh loved finding to what limits men could be pushed.
Once Landri had admitted the Blood Book was gone, it was a fairly simple matter for Kaelesh to find out who might have taken it. He had thought the idiot Landri might have simply misplaced it in one of his drunken stupors, but some probing had revealed it was the combination of lust and alcohol that had been the culprit. What surprised him was that the girl had had the courage to act upon whatever Landri had let slip about the book. He looked forward to finding her, to exploring just how courageous she really was.
Kaelesh considered again what he might do once he had the book. Working with Landri had its pluses and minuses. The king was emotional, often flying into rages, frequently drunk, and for the most part a coward, all of which made him fairly easy to control. But it also led to mistakes, and limited just how far he could go. Someone more powerful, with a stronger inner self, would be much more of a challenge, but the rewards could be far greater. The unknowns in the equation made it difficult for Kaelesh to decide on a course, but he was patient, and the passing of time was never something that pressed him into rash action. He would wait and see what developed.
The Stoneman residence came into view, a modest place but clearly not impacted too severely by the war and the other troubles of the last decade. Kaelesh ordered the guards to fan out and search the fields and outbuildings, save for the men he kept with himself. These followed him to the front door of the home, and stood beside him with weapons ready as he knocked on the door. He had no need of them or their weapons, but he enjoyed the sense of drama their presence created.
Kaelesh’s senses were finely tuned instruments, and as he waited patiently at the door, he could hear the shuffle of feet inside and an exchange of harsh whispers. Finally with a creak the door swung open and Kevin Stoneman filled the entry with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked Kaelesh over once, then glanced at the soldiers and frowned with disapproval. “There a reason you come to my door with such arms at the ready? I’ve two boys in the army and a daughter serving at the castle for several years. Am I a thief or a murderer that you send your men through my crops?” He gestured past Kaelesh to let him know he had seen his men searching the place.
One of the guards raised the hilt of his sword and started forward. “Quiet, you dog, or I’ll—”
Kaelesh silenced him with an upraised hand. He actually wanted to slap the man for having the impertinence to speak, but he stayed his own hand as well. It seemed Kevin Stoneman might give him some sport after all. “I apologize for any inferred insult to you or your family, but I have been sent here by King Landri himself on a mission of some import.”
“And who are you?” Stoneman asked, with a little less vehemence than he might have mustered a moment ago.
“My name is Kaelesh, chief counselor to King Landri. You, I take it, are Kevin Stoneman?”
“That’s true enough.”
Kaelesh waited a few beats, then said with some delicateness, “These are not the most hospitable times, Mr. Stoneman, but perhaps we might speak inside, man-to-man.” He added a tilt of his head, pointing out the armed guards who might be excluded from such a conversation.
Stoneman relented, inviting Kaelesh inside with a wave of his hand. After one last glare at the guard who had threatened him, he closed the door.
Kaelesh was introducing himself to the flustered Mrs. Stoneman before the door clicked shut. She had been trying to eavesdrop on the conversation at the front door and hadn’t been able to scramble out of sight before Kaelesh spotted her. To break away from his piercing gaze, she offered him tea, which he politely refused.
“Well,” she said, backing away, “I’ll let you men talk.”
“Nonsense,” said Kaelesh. “This concerns both of you.” He pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and held it for her. “Please, be seated.”
She knew instinctively that the invitation was more than courtesy. There was something about Kaelesh, the way he carried himself, the look in his eye, the tone of his voice, which indicated he was used to being in command. He was ordering her to stay. Reluctantly she took the offered seat, remembering to at least mumble “Thank you.”
Kaelesh gestured for Kevin Stoneman to be seated, and once Stoneman had complied, he began to slowly pace the room. “You mentioned your daughter serving at the castle. When was the last time you saw her?”
Kevin�
��s eyes narrowed and his face grew hard. “Why? Is there something wrong? Is she ill?”
“I did not say that. And you didn’t answer my question.”
Kevin blew out a breath, clearly annoyed. “It’s been maybe six years.”
“That long?” Kaelesh asked, his expression one of surprise.
“Most of the castle servants spend their lives inside the walls of Old Bern. I’d think you’d know that, being so close to the king and all.”
“Dear,” Marissa said, laying a hand on his arm.
“Well, what do you expect,” Kevin answered her, as if Kaelesh were not there. “He comes here with armed men, he hints there might be trouble with my little girl, and then he asks such trivial questions.”
Kaelesh cleared his throat. “Again, my apologies. It appears as if your daughter, Sasha, has left the king’s service, by her own accord, within the last few weeks. We thought it likely she would come here.”
Kevin looked stunned. “No,” he said, thinking things out. “If she were in some sort of trouble or needed help, she might have, but she hasn’t come home.” He locked eyes with Kaelesh. “Is she in some sort of trouble?”
“Not necessarily. No one knows why she left or where she went. That in itself would be of no concern to the king—servants do leave from time to time. However, something of value to the king seems to have been misplaced at precisely the time Sasha left.”
“You would accuse—” Kevin started, his face turning red.
“Please, Mr. Stoneman, calm yourself. I am investigating all leads, as my king requires of me. If you say you have not seen your daughter in six years, I would not think to impugn your honesty. None of us would wish for there to be any misunderstanding between us.” He took a few steps toward the door, paused, and then turned back to face them. “I like to think the best of people, Mr. and Mrs. Stoneman, but I have been lied to before. Those that have done so…well, let’s just say they spend the remainder of their time on this mortal plane regretting it.”
Kevin Stoneman stood as Kaelesh reached the door. “If you get news of my daughter, please let us know. All we understand now is that she is missing. We’ll have little rest until we know she is safe.”
