I’m only going to have one chance at this, he thought, readying the blade.
With a wordless yell, he brought the weapon up and plunged it down into the back of the basilisk’s neck, biting into the fleshy meat and deep into the spinal cord.
The basilisk stiffened, then let out an agonized scream as it tried desperately to throw the sellsword from its back.
Camdyn held on tightly to the hilt of his sword and even managed to put his weight into it, driving the point of his sword deeper into the thing’s neck. It bucked and it squirmed until finally it spasmed and sunk to its belly, its roars turning into pitiful, agonized whimpers. Blood poured freely from its wound, gushing from its mouth and even its nose unit the red fountain seemed to drench the entire road.
Giving the blade one final twist, Camdyn wrenched the sword free as the basilisk went still. One final breath escaped its lungs, causing the great beast to deflate somewhat as it slumped heavily into the mud.
Razja, who had managed to pull herself free before the basilisk collapsed, approached Camdyn from the side, her eyes wide with amazement.
“That was... amazing!”
Tiredly, Camdyn leapt from its back and landed with a splash in a puddle of gore. His sword, his armor, even his face was spattered with dark blood. “There’s a first time for everything,” he replied, forcing a half-smile.
Behind them, Jasper groaned and pulled himself out of the ditch on the side of the road. He looked battered, but otherwise appeared to be unharmed, with dirt and sprigs of grass clinging to his form. “Let’s never do that again,” he groused, picking one of his blades up from off the road. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Camdyn frowned at him. “For what?”
“For distracting the basilisk for you!” He pointed at the enormous corpse. “You wouldn’t have gotten away if I hadn’t taken that hit for you.”
The sellsword did not respond. Clearly the assassin’s pride was hurt more than his body. Camdyn merely bowed his head in acquiescence to him.
“We do not have these beasts in Kaarna,” Razja mused, bending over as if to inspect the maimed basilisk. “I would like to study him, I think. A creature of this size is sure to have some magical properties.”
“There’s no time,” Camdyn reminded her. “We’re on a quest, remember?”
She sighed and nodded, straightening and brushing a strand of dark hair out of her face.
With that, the three made their way back up the road to where they had left their mounts. Fortunately, none of the horses had fled during all the commotion. They untied their reins and climbed into the saddle, Camdyn and Jasper a bit more tiredly than Razja, then continued on their way, picking up the trail where they had left off.
If this unexpected fight was any indication for how they would fare on the rest of their journey, Camdyn was sure they had a long, uncomfortable road ahead of them.
Chapter Twelve
The ruins were built in a cleft between two mountains. Sheer cliffs rose up to either side of the ancient structure, disappearing into dense forests and gray, misty clouds. It was an old place, a relic of a time when elves and dwarves still ruled this part of the world, with elegant, crumbling towers and walls overgrown with vines.
Camdyn and his two companions crouched on a small rise overlooking the ruins, hidden by the shadows of a thick stand of pines. They could see tiny figures patrolling the walls before them, men in armor carrying spears and guarding whatever lay beyond.
“The trail ends here,” Camdyn muttered, his eyes studying the scene before him. “The Tears must be in there.”
Razja clicked her tongue thoughtfully. “How many do you think there are?”
“A dozen, by my count,” Jasper answered. His dark leathers made him blend almost perfectly with the shadows. “Who knows how many are on the other side of those walls.”
“That’s my fear,” Camdyn mumbled, rubbing at the scruff on his chin.
The sky was growing dark, which meant the sun was setting on the other side of the impenetrable layer of clouds. If they did not come up with an idea soon, they would be forced to set up camp and wait until first light to make their move.
“It’s an odd location,” Razja observed as she stared at the ruins. “I wonder what this place was.”
“A monastery or a temple,” Jasper said with a shrug. “It matters little. Whoever built this place is long dead, and there is probably little plunder to be had.”
Razja sighed. “Must you always think in terms of gold?”
“It’s who I am,” Jasper replied with a smirk.
Camdyn continued to rack his brain, trying to come up with a plan for them to assault the cultists in their hideout. There isn’t a gate, but there is a sizable breach in the walls. If we could somehow get past the sentries, maybe we could storm the inner sanctum and recover the Tears. Razja’s magic could provide us with ample cover.
He grunted and shook his head. There was bound to be more resistance than they could handle inside. Those raiders managed to destroy an entire town. They were more than a match for a sorceress, an ex-soldier, and an assassin.
Then, an idea struck him, though he was loathe to admit it.
“Jasper,” he said begrudgingly, turning to face the arrogant man. “I think it may be time for you to put your skills to use.”
WHEN NIGHT FELL, THE mountains were shrouded in inky blackness.
Camdyn and Razja stood poised behind a rock formation, watching the ruins intently as they waited for Jasper’s signal.
Torches sputtered all along the decrepit walls, illuminating the ancient structure with a ghostly orange glow. The guards all stood at their posts, bored and completely unaware that an assassin from the south was in their midst.
Time to see if Jasper is as good as he says he is, Camdyn thought to himself doubtfully. He was fully prepared to rush forward at a moment’s notice and bail the cocky man out.
“What’s taking him so long?” Razja asked, her voice tinged with impatience. “It’s been well over an hour!”
“I imagine that sneaking around takes time,” Camdyn answered dryly. He was never one for knives in the dark. He always preferred the most direct approach. “Jasper told us to trust him, so that’s what we’ll do.”
She sighed but did not protest. Razja seemed to favor directness as well.
A cold wind blew down from the mountains, causing the forest around them to rustle. The black sky above was completely devoid of stars, and there was a thickness to the air that promised more rain. A bad omen anywhere else, Camdyn thought. In this part of the world, it is simply reality.
One of the guards atop the wall was making his rounds, patrolling from torch to sputtering torch. When he crossed into the dark section between the two torches, he suddenly stiffened and disappeared from view. Another shadowy form stood up where the other man had fallen, creeping silently along the ancient battlements like a specter of the night.
“Look!” Camdyn hissed, pointing. “There he is!”
They watched with amazement as Jasper brought down another guard, darting into the light like a snake and pulling him into the shadows, never to return again. He was wraith-like the way he moved, ghosting in and out of view and eliminating men without a sound. Within minutes, the ruins’ outer defenses were completely clear, opening the way for them to go in uncontested.
“There’s the signal,” Razja noted as Jasper used a knife to reflect the light of one of the torches.
Together, they abandoned their rock formation and quickly made their way across the open field, approaching one of the gaping holes in the middle of the ruins.
Looking up, Camdyn started when he saw the forms of two guards staring down at them. He was about to draw his sword and warn Razja when he realized that the figures were as still as stone.
Dead, he realized, feeling more than a little foolish. Jasper must have propped them up so their presence would not be missed. Smart.
As they cleared the gap of crumbli
ng stone, they found the assassin waiting for them. He was lounging on a slab of rock overgrown with moss. “Nobody knows we’re here,” he announced smugly. “The raiders’ camp lies just ahead.”
“Took you long enough,” Camdyn grumbled when he approached.
Jasper scoffed. “Infiltration is an art, sellsword. It isn’t a barroom brawl. Quietly taking out a dozen guards takes time.”
“Did you have a chance to scout ahead?” Razja cut in, ignoring their banter.
Jasper sighed and slid off his rock. “Not so much as a thank you for my efforts. To answer your question, yes; though, admittedly not as much as I’d like. The bastards seem lax in their defenses – they must think they’re alone in these mountains.”
“That’s good,” Camdyn said brusquely. “Less chance of us getting caught.”
“Only if you move quietly and keep that sword from bumping against your chainmail,” Jasper muttered. Then, more seriously, he added, “Follow me closely. I’ll get us to the inner sanctum without being discovered. From there, we will be able to find the Tears and get the hell out of here.”
Razja motioned ahead. “Lead the way.”
They picked their way through the rubble to a wide courtyard beyond the outer wall. The field was choked with weeds and overgrown with scraggly trees and bushes, so there was plenty of cover to utilize as they made their way deeper. Ahead, much of the vegetation had been cut away to make room for tents which formed a haphazard camp. Camdyn estimated that there were more than fifty armed men in there, but most seemed to be either sleeping or huddling around one of several campfires.
Jasper led them around the camp, moving silently from cover to cover in an attempt to get them through undetected.
Gritting his teeth, Camdyn did everything he could to not make any noise. Smooth, even steps, he reminded himself mentally. Don’t step on any branches. No sudden movements. Just take it nice and slow.
He did not want to give the assassin any more reason to gloat.
On the other side of the camp sat some sort of temple hard up against the side of a mountain. It looked like a mound of stones that had been piled loosely hundreds of years ago, a weathered structure that seemed to be on the verge of collapse. Even so, lights glowed within, indicating that there was some sort of activity inside.
As they approached the edifice, Jasper led them off to the side so that they could peak through one of the many window-like cracks in the stone. He discovered a secluded clearing amidst a tangle of trees and fallen flagstones, and it was there that they hid themselves from anyone who might discover them.
Camdyn and Jasper kept watch as Razja looked inside, the sorceress pressing her face practically against the exterior wall.
“There are people in there,” she said after a moment, her eyes studying the inside of the temple. “Lots of them. They seem to be performing some sort of ritual.”
“Do you see the Tears?” Camdyn asked in a hushed but urgent whisper.
She shook her head. “No, nothing like that. They seem to be listening to a sermon. A man in red robes is waving his arms around and preaching to them. There is a man tied down and...” She gasped. “I think they are going to sacrifice him!”
Camdyn grunted, his lips parting in disgust. “Fanatics,” he growled.
“We have to help him!” Razja’s voice was now quavering.
“We absolutely do not,” Jasper cut in, his voice hard as iron. “That would undermine the whole reason we have come here! One cultist’s life is not worth us failing our mission.”
Razja turned on him, her slender hands balling into fists. “Perhaps not to you,” she hissed. She suddenly seemed to be on the verge of tears. “But this sort of thing... it’s evil. I’ll not stand by–”
“Shhh!” Camdyn cut her off and tried to hide his figure low in the brush. “Someone’s coming!”
Sure enough, footsteps could be heard coming from the direction of the camp. Weeds and undergrowth crunched under heavy, booted feet.
Each of them fell perfectly still, the only noise coming from the sound of their own hushed breathing.
A trio of guards lumbered past their little grove, spears resting casually on their shoulders. They appeared to be making their rounds, though none of them looked very attentive. They seemed more focused on their own conversation rather than searching for would-be enemies in the night.
The three of them walked right up to the temple, waited for a few heartbeats, then turned around and made their way right back to the tents. After a moment, their footsteps faded.
The three of them were alone once again.
“That was a close one,” Camdyn breathed, his heart thudding within his chest.
“I suggest you stifle that bleeding heart of yours,” Jasper spat at Razja, his teeth a white snarl in the gloom. “You’re going to get us all killed!”
Razja stared at him for a long moment before finally breaking away her gaze. Her face was now a cool, impassive mask. “I’ll not apologize. I’ve seen human sacrifice in my own country. It is an evil thing that should be stopped.”
“I’m not here to debate morals with you, sorceress,” Jasper said in a low, dangerous voice. “I’m here to get the Tears from these people. That’s it. If you want to rush in and take on all those people, be my guest. I’ll use the distraction to find the Tears myself, then get out of this place. You, on the other hand, will be dead.”
Again, Razja stared at him for a long moment. Eventually, though, she sighed and her shoulders slumped. “One of you look inside, then. I do not wish to see what happens next.”
Camdyn looked to Jasper, shrugged, then made his way over to the crack, leaning close to the wall in order to peer through the hole. Sure enough, there was a wide chamber within, and it was filled with a full two dozen people. The room was lit with glowing braziers, and there was a raised dais on the far end. Upon it stood a bearded man in red robes, and at his feet was another man, chained and stripped naked, his face pale and lined with fear.
These people don’t worship any god I know, he thought, suddenly feeling very angry. This whole lot deserves to be strung up and eaten by crows.
As he watched, the red priest reached the end of his sermon. He raised his hands high in the air and shouted in a language he did not understand. The crowd repeated his words over and over again, reciting some sort of mantra that chilled Camdyn’s blood.
The red priest turned to regard the chained man, who continued to lay on the dais, still as a statue. The bearded man smiled at his prisoner, then reached into the folds of his crimson robes and pulled out a black dagger of polished obsidian. With the crowd still chanting, the priest raised the blade high and then plunged it down into the chest of the chained man, driving it deep into his heart. The man jerked from the shock of the attack and died a second later, his head lolling limply to the side.
Camdyn felt his stomach lurch as the dragon priest used the knife to carve open the man’s chest, plunging his hand into the wound and pulling out his heart.
Blood pooled on the dais as the priest passed the heart around the room, the supplicants still chanting in their monotone way. With bloody fingers, the bearded man began to scrawl words along the wall, writing in a strange runic language that was not of this world.
Finally, Camdyn looked away.
“These people are mad,” he concluded, turning his gaze on his companions.
“Did they kill him?” Jasper asked.
Camdyn nodded. “They’re still performing their ritual. This may be our best chance to find the Tears. Jasper, do you think there’s another way inside this place?”
Jasper shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Chapter Thirteen
Together, they left their hidden clearing and made their way around the circumference of the temple, coming up to the sheer mountainside at the rear of the ruins. Different wings of the building rose up all around them, some collapsed, some structurally sound. Only a few of them glowed with the
light of lamps inside.
Finding a foothold in the wall on one side of the temple, Jasper began to climb, making his way to a darkened window ten feet above the ground.
After peering inside, he looked back down at them. “In here. Follow me.”
With that, he disappeared inside.
Camdyn helped Razja up, and she managed the climb with surprising alacrity. The mercenary seemed to have the most trouble, scrambling up the crumbling stones and nearly falling on three separate occasions.
Finally, he made it inside the window, tumbling into a dark room beyond that reeked of dust and rot.
“Quiet!” Jasper snapped.
Camdyn got up and brushed himself off, looking about and trying to take in his surroundings. They were in a small, sparsely-furnished room with a low-hanging ceiling. It looked to be some sort of storage closet, but in the darkness Camdyn couldn’t be sure.
Clearing his throat, he indicated that Jasper should lead the way.
Nodding quietly, the assassin obliged.
The hall beyond the room was dark and choked with dust. The roof seemed about ready to cave in, and even the stones beneath their feet seemed to shift with every footfall.
Why would someone take up residence in such a place? Camdyn wondered as he followed Jasper through the gloom. This feels more like a tomb than a temple.
Ahead, the hall turned abruptly to the left, and he could make out a faint glow of light emanating from around the corner. It seemed like they were entering a more inhabited part of the ruins. Before they could turn, however, Jasper held up a hand and stopped them dead in their tracks.
“Hold!” he whispered intensely.
Camdyn and Razja froze.
The assassin squatted down and inspected the floor ahead of them, reaching out tentatively to pluck at a tripwire that had been strung across their path. Then, looked up, he pointed to a contraption fixed into the ceiling above their heads.
“What is it?” Razja asked fearfully.
“Not sure,” Jasper replied dubiously. “But if I had to guess, I’d say it contains acid or some sort of poison. Anyone who springs the trap will be in for a nasty surprise.” Then, standing up and stepping gingerly over the wire, he added, “Watch your step.”
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