by Troy Osgood
“Hutch and Sheren are at the mine,” someone shouted from the crowed. “They need help.”
“Go help them,” another person shouted.
The crowd’s murmuring took on an angry tone.
“We will do nothing until we have spoken to someone in charge,” the soldier yelled warily eyeing the crowd.
“They’re in trouble,” came the response.
“Hutch is at the mine,” a voice said calmly. “But Sheren is not the only councilor in this town.”
Culann looked towards the tavern, seeing Hesh and the other councilors exiting the building. Hesh was in front, smiling, as he walked towards the crowd and the soldiers. The crowd parted, allowing Hesh and the others to get to the front of the stage. The councilors stayed on the ground, in a ring around the soldiers, as Hesh climbed the stairs and stood on the stage itself. Culann hadn’t realized how short the man was until he was on the stage, and still didn’t come equal to the height of the soldier on the horse.
“You are?,” the soldier asked.
“Hesh Travers,” the man said with a bow.
Culann was surprised. From what Davey had said about the naming of the town’s residents, the last name marked Hesh’s family as not original to Minoda. Had Hesh been the first in town or had his family been here awhile? It was just another thing added to the list of how Hesh had become a councilor in the first place. He seemed more suited to a big city and not the rough mining town.
“Where are the rest of the soldiers?,” Hesh asked, the smile still in place.
“That boy you sent went on to the local garrison,” the soldier on horseback replied. “We were at the Waystation and our Captain sent us ahead well he waited for more orders.”
“Ah, oh,” Hesh said, losing the smile. The man had been so sure that the soldiers would come in force. “Well, that is good. Good that you are here,” he added, recovering. “We need your help.”
“Sheren and Hutch need their help right now,” someone from the crowd shouted.
“Nae at the moment,” Culann said stepping forward out of the shadows. He felt exposed as all the eyes focused on him, especially the soldiers. He didn’t like how the older one was studying him. “The one ye call Hutch is hurt and Master Tobiason is supervising the closing o’ ta mines.”
“Closing the mines,” Hesh sputtered, shocked.
“Hutch is hurt?,” another councilor asked.
“What happened?,” the soldier said finally getting off his horse.
He walked around to the other side of the stage, closer to Culann and away from the crowd. Hesh followed.
“You can’t close the mines,” Hesh said angrily, pointing at Culann with an accusing finger.
“Details man,” the soldier said waving his hand back to try and silence Hesh. “Who are you?”
“Culann Hawkfall,” he replied with a slight bow. “And ye are?”
“Sergeant Jaspers,” the soldier said nodding.
Jaspers studied Culann, looking him up and down, noting the weapons and armor.
“Adventurer,” Jaspers asked.
“He’s a Far Rider,” Hesh said with a sneer, scorn dripping from the last words.
“Aye, that I am,” Culann said to the Sergeants questioning look. “I was camping on the road when I ran inta the same boy ye encountered.”
“A Far Rider,” Jaspers stated, looking Culann up and down, studying the man and his weapons. “We had trouble with one of you awhile back. Was caught stealing from a noble’s home.” Jaspers paused, waiting for a response from Culann. There was none. “So you came to help,” the guardsman asked with a note of suspicion.
“And it’s a good thing he did,” a voice said from behind them.
They all turned to see Sheren, with Davey alongside, leading two men who were bearing the liter with Hutch on it. Another man was leading the still blinded Harland. The crowd all started coming forward now, clustering around on the edges, listening and straining to see. The murmuring had started up again, a low buzz that filled the square.
“We owe Master Hawkfall our lives,” Sheren said. “Four skeletons came out of the new mine tunnel,” he added. “We’re barricading it and the others. We need more material and workers to get them closed up.”
“Put them in the house with Terry,” Sheren said to the liter bearers. He clapped Harland on the shoulder as the man walked by. He looked into the crowd of villagers and called out, indicating a group of six men. “Get some lumber and tools, help close off the mines.”
“You can’t close the mines,” Hesh said, practically shouting. “We need to work.”
“You don’t work the mines,” Sheren said, each word hard, lacking patience. “No one is working those shafts if there are skeletons within.”
“Seems logical,” Sergeant Jaspers said, eyes still on Culann. He had glanced at the wounded men, before returning his gaze to the Far Rider. “Now will someone tell me what is going on?”
“This way,” Hesh said leading the soldier towards the tavern.
Sheren started to move back towards the west road but Culann held up a hand to stop him. He motioned towards Hesh and the soldier. Sheren looked like he wanted to argue but then sighed, shaking his head. He followed Culann as the two moved towards the tavern.
“Go to your Ma,” he said to Davey.
Hesh was busy talking the ear off the soldier, who looked like he was ignoring it all. At the steps of the tavern, Jaspers turned back towards the stage.
“Private,” he called out to the younger soldier. “Stable the horses and then report to me.”
The younger man saluted, leading the horses through the crowd as some villagers pointed him towards the stable. The rest of the villagers just stood around, unsure what to do.
“Don’t you lot have chores to do,” Sheren said loudly to the villagers. “Stay off the Mine and Cemetery roads,” he added. He mounted a couple steps to the tavern’s porch but stopped and turned back to the crowd. “Stay out of the forests as well for now. Only leave the village proper in groups and keep a watch.”
Culann sat at the bar again, mug in hand, turned around in the seat to watch. Murphy, behind the bar, was cleaning mugs and glasses, trying to keep out of the way and refilling when called for. The soldier, Sergeant Jaspers was standing in front of the hearth, all eyes on him. Sheren stood off to the side, Hesh also standing but on the other side of the soldier. The rest of the councilors were all sitting down in an arc between the two standing.
“Walking skeletons,” Jaspers said pacing back and forth in front of the hearth. There was no fire going, the coals from last night still giving off some heat. He had a mug in his hand and would periodically stop to drink from it. It was his second one.
“They shouldn’t be a problem,” he said stopping and looking out over the councilors. Sheren was shaking his head, Hesh was smiling. “Undead skeletons are fairly common in the main parts of the kingdom,” he continued. “The Private and I can hold them off until the Captain arrives. We brought maces,” he added as if that solved everything.
“When will the Captain arrive?,” Hesh asked, starting to show a little worry.
“A couple days, week at the most,” Jaspers said taking a drink.
“We can’t have the mines closed for a week or more,” Hesh said shocked.
“I’m sure the King will take this into consideration when it comes tax time,” the soldier said with a shrug.
Sheren, leaning against the wall to the side of the hearth, just shook his head.
“You don’t agree Goodman?,” Jaspers asked looking over at Sheren.
“These skeletons aren’t like ones you’ve faced before,” he said. “It took everything Master Hawkfall had to defeat the four,” he added nodding towards Culann.
Culann raised his mug in acknowledgement.
Jaspers looked like he was about to say something, and Culann had been interested in what it was going to be. He had an idea, but Sheren interrupted the soldier.
“Also backed up by
a former King’s Guard. Who said he’s faced skeletons before but not like these.”
That gave Jaspers pause as the man searched his memory, trying to remember if he knew anyone that had settled in this area.
“Who?,” he finally asked.
“Donald Jaccob,” Sheren answered.
Culann leaned in closer to the conversation. This was new information. The kingdom had had a necromantic incident before? That was interesting and possibly relevant.
Jaspers leaned against the mantle, draining his mug. He held it up to catch Murphy’s attention. He tapped the empty mug against the stones.
“I don’t remember that name,” he started as the tavern’s front door open. Culann caught an odd tone to the man’s voice. He was lying or was nervous. Doubtfully anyone else picked up on it.
The young soldier, the Private, walked in. He looked around, unsure of where to go or what to do. Jemas was definitely new to the uniform, Culann thought; he didn’t even fully fill it out. The armor hung a little loose. The sword, in its scabbard, looked out of place like he was still not used to having it strapped on at all times. He was young, blond with blue eyes. Nervous.
“Perfect timing Jemas,” Jaspers said. “Go and fetch a citizen by the name of,” he paused and glanced at Sheren. “What did you say his name was?”
“Donald Jaccob,” Sheren supplied. “Someone out there will point you in the right direction.”
“Thank you sir,” Jemas said backing out the door.
“Now,” Jaspers started. “Well we wait, how about some food?”
Culann glanced at Sheren and saw frustration and impatience in the man’s face. This was a waste of time and Culann agreed with him. They should be out fortifying the town or figuring out where the skeletons came from and how to stop them. He looked out the window at the position of the sun. Too early for dinner. He just shook his head wondering how he was going to work around the obvious problem that Jaspers would end up being.
He was leaning over the counter, Sheren in a seat next to him, staring at the back wall and nursing the same mug of ale when the tavern doors opened. Everyone turned, the low conversations ending. Jaspers was at a table, a large plate of food and another mug of ale in front of him. The other councilors had taken seats at different tables, in small groups, talking amongst each other.
Donald Jaccob limped into the tavern, looking around, followed by Private Jemas who hung back. Jaccob was a big man that had lost the muscle, with age and lack of use. He dragged his right leg, grimacing with each step. He was dressed like the rest of the villagers, simple and rough clothing. Jemas took up position against the wall, out of the way.
Culann watched Jaspers. Recognition flashed across the soldiers face. He definitely did know Jaccob and judging by the look on his face now, he was fearful of what the villager could say.
“You sent for me, Sheren,” Jaccob asked ignoring everyone else in the room and focusing on Sheren at the bar.
“Donald, please tell Sergeant Jaspers what you told us about the skeletons,” Sheren said turning around.
Jaccob looked over at the soldier, who was trying to appear smaller and hide his features in shadows. Culann watched Jaccob smile. He knew Jaspers. He studied the other man for a moment before answering.
“Like I told you,” he said never taking his eyes from Jaspers. “When I was in the Guard, like these two,” he added nodding at the Sergeant and Private. “There was a necromancer down south. We went down and bashed some zombies and skeletons and the ones back then are nothing like the one the other night and I assume the ones you fought earlier.”
“How so?,” Private Jemas said, his voice surprisingly firm for how meek the young man seemed. He sank back deeper against the wall, surprised and embarrassed that he had spoken.
“The ones we have here,” Jaccob said turning to look at the Private. “They don’t go down easy. It took several people over an hour with a hammer to smash up a single one and from what I heard, that one,” he pointed at Culann. “Had to use a lot of magic to take out the four at the mine. The ones I fought with the Guard, a good whack of a mace would shatter the thing. They were just bones, fragile ol’ bones.”
He stopped and looked around the room.
“Don’t know how, but they’re different,” he said walking over towards Sheren.
He stopped in the space between Culann and Sheren, leaning close.
“Keep an eye on Jaspers there,” he said speaking quietly so just the two men could hear. “He was at that fight years back, got a couple people killed with his stupidity. He didn’t earn the rank of Sergeant the right way if you know what I mean.”
Jaccob stepped back, turned and gave Jaspers one final look.
“Want a drink Donald?,” Murphy asked from the end of the bar.
“No thanks Murphy,” Jaccob replied. “Got stuff to do.”
With that he limped out of the tavern.
Silence followed him.
Culann looked towards Sergeant Jaspers, along with everyone else. The soldier pretended that no one was looking at him, finishing the last bites of his meal and draining the last ale from the mug.
“Well let’s go,” he said standing up and adjusting his belt.
“Go where?,” Hesh asked hesitatingly. Even he was starting to realize that Jaspers might be more trouble than help.
“To the cemetery,” Jaspers said, surprised to be questioned. “You said there were some skeletons there so let us go see what we are dealing with.”
“We’ve already told you,” Sheren said.
“And I will go look for myself,” The soldier replied.
“I’ll come wit’ ye,” Culann said standing up.
“You don’t have any magic left from what I understand,” Jaspers said pausing at the door.
“And ye donae have any ta start wit’,” Culann answered matter of factly; walking towards the doors.
“I’ll come as well,” Sheren said joining them.
“Suit yourselves,” Jaspers said walking out the door. “Jemas, come on.”
CHAPTER NINE
The four men walked along the mountain road to the East, towards the cemetery. Sergeant Jaspers was in front, walking steadily but not cautiously. The two soldiers had left their swords and scabbards hanging from the horses saddles in the stables. Each carried a mace in hand. The grip was loose though.
Culann had both axes out, walking slower, trying to listen for the familiar sounds. He looked around, even looking up, studying the road.
Sheren walked with the sledge hammer held in both hands, a tight grip, ready to swing.
Private Jemas took up the rear. He kept glancing back nervously but held the mace in both hands tightly. He looked around wildly, jumping at every sound.
“Calm lad,” Culann said glancing back. “We will hear them before they get close ta ye.”
“You’re acting like a child, Jemas,” Jaspers said with a laugh. “Don’t mind him,” he said apologetically, pointing at the younger soldier. “He’s fresh. He’ll grow a spine some day.”
Culann watched Jemas face redden. The lad was embarrassed.
“We were all fresh at one point,” Culann said, biting back what he really wanted to say.
Jaspers just shrugged. A quick glance back showed that Jemas was smiling in appreciation.
They continued in silence, the road continuing around a bend ahead. Now even Jaspers slowed down, take a more cautious approach. Culann signaled, moving Sheren and Jemas further back, spreading the four men out more. He stayed near Jaspers, far enough away that the man couldn’t stumble back into him, but close enough to help.
He couldn’t hear anything. The mountain was silent, almost too silent. But his instincts were screaming at him.
“Hold,” he said quietly to Jaspers.
The soldier looked back angrily. He took a step back towards Culann, who stood his ground.
Neither man saw the skeletal hand reaching around the bend in the path.
�
�Watch out,” Jemas called out.
Culann jumped backwards as the skeleton stepped around the corner. Jaspers was not as quick. He turned, stepping back further, but the creature reached out and grabbed him at the shoulder by the tunic. The soldier panicked, instead of swinging with his mace to dislodge the grip, he reached up with his other hand, grasping at the bony arm.
Culann moved back and forth on the road, looking for an opening. But Jaspers was fighting with the skeleton, locked in a panic, and also moving back and forth pulling the skeleton with him. Looking down at its feet, Culann saw the remains of branches and shrubs. One of the skeletons had managed to work itself free. Did the other?
“Swing at it ye fool,” Culann yelled.
But Jasper heard none of it. He pulled at the skeletons arm, trying to rip it off his tunic. He kept walking backwards, forcing the others to retreat.
Culann stepped towards the edge of the road, looking down the long slope to the trees below. Shaking his head, wondering at his own stupidity, he put the axes back into the sheathes. Opening the satchel; he pulled out the wooden rod with the square head. Cursing, he stepped so he was aligned with the skeleton and Jaspers. He moved forward, sidestepping up the road.
His angle and standing on the edge let him look further down. He could see the corpse of trees and it was clear, no other skeletons.
Thanking the gods for small favors, he moved to the center of the road coming up behind the skeleton. He held out the wand, watching the jerking motions of the skeleton as Jaspers fought with it. The creature had a grip on Jaspers arm, forcing the arm away from its own bones, causing the soldier to shout out in pain. Culann knew the strength the skeletons possessed.
Watching the motion of the skull, he waited. Finally he had a chance and swung with the wand. The square head touched the skull and Culann said the activation words.
Lightning spread out from the spot, covering the skeleton. It spread down the things arms and out onto the hands. Sparks erupted where the lightning hit the metal of Jasper’s armor. The skeleton let go and the man feel backwards, landing hard on the road. They all watched as the blue lightning enveloped the entire skeleton, flared and contracted. The lightning faded leaving nothing but a pile of dust.
