The Dread Lords Rising

by J. David Phillips

  *

  Niam moved through the snow with a painful limp as distant voices behind him called out urgently for Bug. An hour earlier, as Niam worked his way ahead of the rest of the searchers, a blood-curdling scream sent Niam galloping back across the field above the smoldering house. He arrived to find a middle-aged woman weeping inconsolably as a ring of grim-faced men stood in a circle looking down at a ghastly sight.

  Peering between onlookers, he caught a glimpse of a small figure covered in a red so dark that it nearly seemed black. He managed to push his way through the men and women and looked down. A pretty girl with ribbons tied in her hair lay with a hideous gaping wound in her neck that lolled open like a dog’s mouth. A terrible relief surged through Niam as he gazed at her sightless eyes: Thankfully, this was not Bug. Had she run off before or after this happened?

  Niam gave the horse he had “borrowed” to the poor girl’s family to allow them to carry her back home. A stab of sorrow struck his heart as he pushed away the image of his frightened little friend running into the dark to hide.

  Why wasn’t she answering?

  He didn’t want to entertain the possibility that she had met a similar fate. Instead, he shoved it out of his mind. He winced each time he let loose with a chain of hoarse coughs. Hopefully this was the last time he would ever find himself in a burning building.

  Niam stood still every now and then to massage his upper thigh. Although his shin bore the trall’s claw marks, pain radiated all the way up the length of his leg. The cramps were getting worse as he walked with exaggerated steps through the snow. The drift of a sluggish breeze swaying the upper boughs of frozen trees set off a number of unsettling groans and pops. It was enough to keep his nerves on edge.

  The more barns and sheds Niam checked that came up empty, the greater the tension within him rose. Now every sound hinted at more than ordinary causes. Each snapping twig belied an unseen attack coming at him; every time a sagging tree limb dumped snow and ice onto the ground, Niam heard an assailant dropping from overhead to pounce and strike.

  He felt vulnerable without his staff.

  When Niam cast a cautious glance around, he noticed that a small candle burned in one of the unchecked barns. It shone with hardly enough light to be noticed.

  Frowning, he stopped.

  Numerous paths led through the snow in its direction, but that didn’t mean anything because workers had used every building on this end of the property since the last snowfall. Should he check it out just to be sure or let one of the other searchers look into it? Every moment that passed left another moment free for Salb to locate Bug.

  “Blind One’s eyes!” Niam growled, and then turned toward the barn with the pale light dancing in its dim interior. The Marie family’s neighbors were so spread out that they might not make it to the building anytime soon.

  What could she—or anyone—be doing in that barn with a single candle or lantern on a night like this? Bug was certainly capable of lighting a fire, especially if she had a flint on hand. Around barns, kindling was never in short supply. Yet why hadn’t she responded to anyone? Niam ‘s gut clenched. He knew that he might not like the answer. The thought occurred to him to call for someone to help him, but he doubted anyone would hear his voice if he tried.

  Davin’s warning to avoid a fight with Salb sounded in the back of his mind almost as loudly as if Davin were standing right there. Oh, don’t worry . . . I’m just going to get Bug and get out of this, Niam addressed the worry quietly. At that moment, he felt as if someone were watching him. In the darkness, the tranquility of the cold evening did not match the sensation that somewhere a hidden pair of eyes bore into him. Niam’s stomach let loose with a fluttering set of dull aches, and this was rapidly followed by a familiar sickness that came to him like death on a sweet spring breeze.

  Sorcery.

  Near, but not near enough. Not yet. But Niam knew that whatever it was, this kind of evil always made itself known. The barn stood close, and the small finger of flickering light might as well have been a witch’s finger beckoning him forward into her foul lair. Shivering and terrified, Niam willed his feet to move forward. Whatever waited there for him would not wait forever, and he had to get Bug to safety. Neither the sense of black sorcery, nor the danger facing him worried him as much as the fact that Bug had not answered.

  Finally, he stood before the barn’s front doors and saw that they were partially ajar. The feeling of sickness was stronger here. His stomach shifted uncomfortably and his head began to throb. The smell of livestock hit him as he entered its dark interior. Aside from the feeble light entering through open doors at the opposite end of the aisle, the meager light of a small lantern standing in the aisle only made it seem darker inside. Leading up to the loft, a rickety ladder was propped against the lip of the floor above, and it looked like this was the only way up. Movement from every direction filled the building as animals shifted around impatiently in their stalls. Niam moved quietly into the gloom, taking care not so much to remain undetected—for he was certain that his presence was expected—as to increase the likelihood that he might hear someone before they had a chance to slit his throat.

  Niam crept forward, and even the crunch of wood shavings littering the floor jangled his nerves. Suddenly something whirred toward him, and he reacted instantly. Niam stepped aside quickly, grabbing the oncoming figure, flinging it into a spiraling crash against the opposite wall with a loud, surprised squeak.

  The hasty move threw Niam off balance, and as he stopped himself from falling, he barked a surprised, “Bug?!”

  The figure scrambled up with a pained cry. “Niam!” she gasped and flew into his arms.

  “Why haven’t you answered anyone? Every person on this side of the estate is looking for you!” Niam growled, immediately regretting his harsh tone.

  “It’s him! He’s been following me!” she moaned.

  “Where is he?” Niam asked, fighting back the rising tide of fear.

  Bug shook her head. “I don’t know! I hid behind a feed bin while he looked through the barn. He left a lantern on the floor. I heard him laughing, and I think he went back out.”

  That wasn’t good. Niam immediately scanned the aisle for anything he could fight with. The only thing on hand was a wide broom that was sure to stop the most ferocious dust bunny. Niam took it up in his hands, and as he opened his mouth to tell her to run, he never got the chance to finish. Bug screamed as a heavy weight collided with them from the left. Pain shot up his hurt leg as he was flung to the ground.

  Bug screamed again.

  Niam’s head began to pound and he wanted to be sick as he scrambled up in time to see Salb holding an arm around Bug’s throat. Salb’s fingers were deeply stained as if a bottle of ink had spilled across his hands, and he carried the rusty sword that Maerillus had made him throw over the bridge the day they chased him from the old abbey’s ruins. Salb’s hold on Bug tightened, and Bug’s terrified face darkened as her eyes filled with panic.

  “You’re choking her!” Niam yelled.

  Salb’s voice was indifferent. “So?”

  Hatred blossomed within Niam. He levered the broom beneath his foot and snapped off the wide fan of bristles and then raised it, preparing to attack.

  Salb shrugged, lifted his leg slightly, and brought his foot down on Bug’s ankle. She shrieked in pain. Salb casually pushed her aside and sneered, “I’ll deal with you when I’m done.”

  Niam moved in quickly as Salb drew his blade from its scabbard. Instead of attacking, he waited until Salb brought his weapon around in an ill-timed slice and flicked his stick upward, knocking Salb’s blade aside. Niam rammed his shoulder into Salb and brought the stick around with all of his strength, snapping it as it connected with his att
acker’s temple. Salb fell aside, and before Niam kicked the maggot, Bug’s terrified whimpering stopped him short. She lay on her side with her knee drawn up to her chest, clutching her foot.

  For the moment, Salb was down. Niam looked desperately for the sword, but couldn’t find it. That meant Salb had fallen on top of it, or it had fallen into the hay and now lay hidden beneath it. Niam knew he needed to get Bug out of the barn and into the open where he could yell for help as he carried her away.

  Kneeling at her side, he quickly asked, “Can you move it?”

  “It hurts, Niam!”

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” he said. Salb began moving and swearing rabidly. Bug’s eyes fearfully flashed in his direction. She looked at Niam, held her hand out, and nodded her head.

  Niam drew her up, and she cried out as weight shifted onto her hurt leg. Niam’s own leg burned and his head and stomach only seemed to make it worse. “Put your weight on me.”

  To Niam’s stunned disbelief, Salb began picking himself up off of the ground. A grumbling and bestial sound issued from his lips. The hairs on the nape of Niam’s neck stood on end. Salb slowly stood erect. Niam stared. There was no way anyone could have recovered from a blow to the head that quickly. When Salb reached up and drew his hood back, Niam gaped in alarm. His voice sounded harsh as he asked Bug urgently, “Do you think you can make it outside?”

  “No,” Bug said pitifully.

  “Do your best,” Niam snapped.

  Bug began whimpering as she placed her weight against a stall door and began hopping toward the other end of the barn. Niam saw why Salb had managed to regain his senses so quickly. When Bode’s former ally snarled and faced him, he wore a feverish expression that was filled with hysteria and completely homicidal. But that was not the worst of it. Even in the barn’s dim interior, Salb’s eyes seemed to gather up what meager light spilled from the lantern, amplify it, and reflect it back the way an animals eyes glinted in firelight.

  Salb read the expression on Niam’s face and chuckled. It was the dreadful sound of someone surrendering to depravity. “You fool,” Niam said in a breathless voice.

  “Oh, you’re not the only one who has powers,” Salb taunted. “I’m impressed you didn’t just run like the runt you are.”

  “You’ve sentenced yourself to death,” Niam spat. “What he’s done to you always destroys the idiots that undergo it.”

  Salb shrugged. “I’m not Jalt,” he drawled as if he were savoring the moment.

  “The man that did this to you is using you. I’ve seen more than one person he changed. They all had to be put down like rabid dogs, Salb.”

  Salb’s face registered only an instant’s doubt. “I asked for it, Maldies. When this is finished, I will be able to make the change at will, and nobody will keep me from snuffing insects like you out of existence.”

  Behind him, Bug had only made it part of the way down the aisle. Niam knew that the only thing he could do was stall for time, but Salb was becoming more unhinged with each passing moment. “So that’s it?” Niam asked. “You asked for this so you could be a better bully? I can’t believe someone like you sold yourself so cheaply. There’s got to be more to it than that.”

  Salb’s eyes darted about more rapidly than a human’s eyes ought to. “There’s a change coming, and when it does, those of us who bring it about are going to be powerful,” he bragged.

  “Joachim will just have you hunted down,” Niam cut him off. “He’ll hound you down like he ran off your master.”

  Salb laughed contemptuously. “You don’t know anything, Maldies. Your precious Count and Wizard’s Hammer won’t live to see the sunrise, and neither will you.”

  Before Niam could say anything else, Salb moved to retrieve his blade from the ground, but Niam was ready for it. “Hey Salb!” he shouted. The moment Salb looked up Niam kicked hay and sand into his face.

  Salb reacted with fury. He screamed and began trying to get the stinging bits of dirt from his eyes. Niam sprinted forward and as Salb swung his fist at his head, Niam tried the dive-and-roll he had seen Maerillus use at sword practice . . . only instead of rolling, Niam’s face struck the ground and he crumpled over. Above him, Salb’s fingers dug at the grit in his eyes and he cursed Niam, kicking at him blindly. Niam managed to dodge out away in time. His hands shot out and he seized Salb’s sword and wrestled it from his grasp. Niam danced back and delivered a desperate backhanded swing at Salb. He felt the blade struck flesh. Salb howled in rage and pain and lunged forward. Niam rolled onto all fours and launched himself out of Salb’s reach.

  “You’ll pay for this!” Salb bellowed. “You and that girl!”

  Niam began backing rapidly toward Bug. If he fended Salb off long enough, they might have a chance. The only problem was that Niam had no idea how Kreeth’s sorcery had affected him.

  “Come on!” Niam cried out to Bug. “Let me carry you!”

  “Look out!” Bug shouted.

  Niam whirled around in time to see Salb advancing on them. “You hurt my eyes!” he screamed savagely. “I’ll kill you for that!”

  “You’re really going to hate this!” Niam said, and kicked another stinging cloud into Salb’s face.

  Salb’s voice rose in pitch, but he didn’t stop. “Bastard!”

  Thinking quickly, Niam flung a stall door open, releasing a dozen frightened goats into the walkway. Salb stumbled over an animal and landed on his hands and knees while Niam backpedaled, dragging a whimpering Bug with him.

  “Two can play at that game, Maldies,” Salb spat. He reached into his pocket, withdrew a pouch, and flung it at Niam’s head.

  A fine spray of dark powder bloomed outward, and before Niam managed to turn his head, some of the pouch’s contents billowed into his eyes. At first Niam just blinked it away, but as he continued to haul Bug closer to the door, Salb sat up wearing a triumphant smile Niam did not like at all.

  That was when he noticed an unpleasant tingling sensation working itself around the edges of his eyes.

  He blinked.

  And he Blinked again.

  And the tingling sensation steadily increased and transformed into what he thought felt like a strong sunburn.

  “Oh no,” Niam moaned.

  Bug let out a fearful cry. “What did he do?”

  Niam’s heart pounded in his chest. His eyes began to water, and the rims of his eyelids became inflamed. Between squinted eyes, Niam looked behind them just in time to avoid tripping over several broken plows lying upside down with their blades pointing into the air. Niam thanked his stupid that luck he managed to miss them. Across the hall, the loft ladder inclined upward. He knew they were not going to hold out long enough to find help. Davin and Maerillus were not going to arrive in time to save him—not this time. Not Bug.

  And Niam fought back despair.

  A sharp thud accompanied by the startled padding of tiny hooves told Niam that Salb was kicking the goats out of his way. He was coming. If something did not change soon, Salb was going to kill them.

  “Up the ladder, Bug! Do it now!”

  “But I don’t think I can!” she sobbed.

  “You have to, Bug.”

  Her response was no more than a quivering, “Okay.” Then Niam heard the creaking of wood as she fought back gasps of pain with each step. Niam clutched the sword in one hand and began climbing the rungs behind Bug. Above him, hay rustled as Bug made it to the top. Niam scooted after her.

  “Hurry Niam,” she panted. The terror in her voice was almost physical.

  “Oh my,” Salb giggled gleefully. “Look what I’ve managed to tree!”

  “Go away!” Bug screamed. “You killed my cousin! Go away
and just die!”

  Niam’s heart sank. He felt the ladder’s balance shift as Salb put his weight on the bottom rungs.

  “No you don’t Maldies,” Salb chided. “You’re not pulling the ladder up after you. I’ve got plans for the two of you. And when I’m done, I’m going to make good on my promise to Sartor.”

  Niam’s eyes were nearly swollen shut, but he scrambled the rest of the way up. “Go to the back,” he hissed at Bug as he felt more of the smoke and soot coming up in his throat. “Go the other end,” he coughed. “Climb out across the rafters.” Niam intended on holding Salb off for as long as possible. Maybe they could fend off Salb’s relentless pursuit with the sword.

  Maybe.

  But Niam was nearly sightless.

  “I’ve waited for this for a good while now,” Salb gloated. “Maybe you’ll get to see that stupid feeb when you’re dead,” he said, and then imitated Corey by hitting his head against the ladder’s rungs. “I just can’t take it anymore!”

  “Stop it!” Bug screamed. “Stop it! Leave us ALONE!”

  “Get back, Bug!” Niam hissed. He had to get her to move back. He grabbed ahold of her, pulling her with him while the sword he held dragged the floor uselessly. Somehow, Bug wiggled free and scampered away. The wood of the ladder grated against the lip of the loft as Salb came up after them.

  “Bug!” Niam couldn’t say more because his body was racked by a harsh series of coughs.

  “I hoped you would make it out of your house,” Salb told him eagerly. “I followed you . . . all of you, waiting for my chance . . .“

  . . . Niam groped to find Bug, to pull her back . . .

  “. . . and when that sow slowed me down tonight and I had to slice her throat. That’s when I saw your little girlfriend running from the little cookout I had planned for her. But I knew that if you lived, you would come find her!”

  “Go Bug!” Niam felt desperate. Images of what Salb would do to her flowed through his mind. His head pounded. Sorcerous energy clung to Salb with the noxious residue of decay. Niam couldn’t see anything. Every time he tried to blink, his eyes became so gummed up that he had to blink again. Desperately, Niam wiped his eyes with his fingers and let out a pained grunt. The best he managed to gain was a smeared, bleary, waxy view of the loft.

  “They’ll stop you Salb. You’ll be hanged in the Pit for this, if Joachim doesn’t take off your head first,” Niam coughed.

  “I told you, Joachim’s not going to be here tomorrow!” Salb crowed, then began repeating in a sadistic, singsong voice, “I know things that you don’t know!”

  Bug wept and yelled out, “Get away from us!”

  Salb chortled with glee. He was almost there. Niam stopped inching his way back. He didn’t want to try using the sword blinded as he was. If Salb took it away from him, he and Bug were as good as dead. Now the killer was too close. Flight was no longer an option. He had to try to fend Salb off long enough to make it onto the rafters. If he could do that, keep Salb at bay long enough, Bug could make it to an opening and scream loudly enough to alert the searchers.

  Salb continued to goad Bug with zeal, whipping Bug into a froth of fear. “Card should have had his way with you, you little turd. Too bad I can’t kill the feeb again. I’d do it slower and let you watch,” he said silkily.

  Bug howled in grief. Niam had never heard anything more pathetic in his life. He crawled sightlessly toward the edge of the loft, stretching his hand before him to find Bug, to pull her back so it would just be him facing Salb. “Crawl back,” Niam coughed. “Get back,” he pleaded. “Please get back over the rafters.”

  Hot tears stung his face where they contacted the powder Salb had thrown at him. But they were tears born of desperation, not just of the stinging material in Salb’s pouch. “Please go, Bug,” he begged, but he could no longer hear his own voice over Bug’s bellowing grief.

  Salb’s hands reached the top rung, but he was having fun now, laughing as each word was a slap across Bug’s face. “Your cousin was a simpleton and I did the town a favor. Do you think your parents will be happy when you’re gone?” Bug’s fists clenched as she writhed in inner agony. Niam’s hand finally found her hip. Bug’s body shook as if she were in the throes of a seizure.

  “I know!” crowed Salb. “I’ll save you for last and let you watch while I do Maldies!”

  As soon as Salb spoke those words, Bug let out an inhuman wail. To Niam it sounded like the pent up howl of ten tortured souls bent by anger and horror until they exploded. The maniacal jeering grin on Salbs face froze as Bug stood up and began kicking him.

  “Stop it!” he snarled. “I’m going to make it hurt worse!” he spat.

  Bug continued to kick like a feral animal. She was no longer a little girl. Her eyes were slits and her lips drawn back, bearing her teeth in feline fury.

  “Stop it!” Salb screamed.

  “Die!” Bug bellowed. “I want you to die!”

  Die! Die! Die!” Each time she repeated the words, her voice became increasingly guttural and inarticulate. Bug swung at Salb. She clawed him. Her fingers dug into his face and he screamed his rage back, but Bug’s fury was greater. She struck him hard in the nose. His cursing cut off abruptly. Bug jabbed her fingers into his eyes, and Salb shifted his weight back defensively. The ladder lurched dangerously. With one great heave, Bug grabbed ahold of the last foot of ladder sticking above the loft’s edge and shoved it forward with all of her might.

  “Leave us alone!” she shrieked, more like an animal than a girl.

  The ladder moved away from the loft’s edge in an almost lazy arc. “No!” Salb shouted. “No!” As the ladder reached the apogee of its arc and passed the critical point of balance, it fell away, spilling Salb to the ground below where his scream was terminally cut short. The only sound in the barn was Bug’s weeping. The barn floor below held only the noises of animals. All else on the ground was still and dead. Niam looked over the edge. He had to blink several times and caught the image of Salb’s motionless form lying across the broken plows, their blades poking through his chest.

  “Come here, Bug,” Niam said, hauling her into his lap, where he began rocking her. “It’s over for you, now.”

  Bug buried her head in his chest and wept. Niam held her tightly, silently, and just rocked. He knew that once someone finally checked the barn that none of this was over. Not by a long shot.