by Will Bly
“No, of course not. And suppose I believe you had nothing to do with the wights or the carnage that night and the next day. That you had no hand to play in the battle of the next day, pitting us all against each other for some sick purpose of pleasure. What about Gerd?”
“Gerd?”
“He was murdered on the roof the night you crept like villains through the darkness.”
“Oh…” Shit. “Yes, to be fair that wasn’t me—it was that crazy woman with the crossbow. She isn’t mine to control.”
“Regardless, you will answer for it now as she will someday in the future. Draw your weapon.” Comcka lunged and swung his sword from over his head.
Irulen jumped from the boulder as the steel sparked against the flint surface.
Comcka moved in hast and swung again with eager force.
Only by a stroke of luck did Irulen yank his sword out in time to deflect the heavy blow. One thought kept racing through Irulen’s mind as he gave ground to his attacker. He’s better than me… he’s better than me. Irulen finally found his way to an offensive strike. It was an awkward side swing, but it managed to push Comcka away for a few seconds. There’s no way to do this without magic.
His baser instincts sharpened, his heart pumped adrenaline through his veins. Survival washed over his melancholy pulling away the sands of his sadness. Something else emerged from within him. “No!” Irulen screamed, forcing Comcka to give pause.
The darkness again infected his vision, urging Irulen to let go his control. The presence felt horrifically soothing. All he had to do was agree to give way and everything would be made right. Comfort would be regained, and Comcka would be killed in a painful manner. Irulen fell to his knees, half-wondering if he’d feel Comcka’s blade enter his back and slide through his heart. A deafening clang of metal filled his ears and kept the wave of darkness at bay. He stood.
Comcka stared in awe at the broken blade. “What is this? It shattered. Can you not be pierced?”
Irulen laughed. “Call it providence or my dark guardian spirit.”
Comcka yelled and threw the lower half of his shattered sword.
Irulen dodged the wrong way and felt a punch in his ribs. Pain ripped through his chest, but he was too busy to check if he had caught the sharp or dull end of the projectile. His adversary pulled out another sword, from where Irulen did not know. “Prepared like a true military man, eh?”
A smile crept along Comcka’s lips. His eyes sparkled with excitement that could only be mustered by conflict and the spilling of blood. “This sword...” He pointed it at Irulen. “This sword is Gerd’s. It is fitting that I slay you with it.”
The honorable man Irulen took Comcka to be had left. Only a vicious creature remained, snarling and sneering as he renewed the onslaught. Irulen averted his gaze from the man’s eyes. He couldn’t stand the madness that burned in them. Here was an honorable man who could let it all go, slaughter his fill, and then return to the confines of his valor. A dangerous man.
Irulen considered ending it, maybe by setting his assailant on fire or by forcing him into the river to drown. Doing so leads to the darkness. He needed to find a way to defeat Comcka without using magic to do him harm. But what if I could defeat him with magic without inflicting harm?
The wizard parried a thrust from Comcka and gave even more ground. He retreated backwards and bumped hard against a tree. He ducked as a blade bit into the tree above him, embedding itself into the bark and wood. Irulen thrust his sword toward Comcka’s torso.
The wily fighter used his leather-clad arm to swipe the broadside of the sword off its target.
Whether the strike actually cut Comcka, Irulen did not know, but the move surprised him enough to warrant further retreat. This is like stabbing at a bear. Irulen snatched a large stick off the ground. He threw it past Comcka’s head as the beast ran toward him, and then pulled it back using his magic. The stick came in low behind the older man’s knees and caused him to stumble. Irulen meant to attack but the grizzled veteran recovered too fast. Unable to solve the situation, the wizard threw up his hands in surrender, turned, and ran.
“Coward!” He heard from behind. “Get back here!”
The chase was on, and Irulen held the advantage for he knew the woods. Even still, he found himself less prepared for the amount of thorns, snags, and other viney things. He navigated the forest floor best he could by dodging split, weathered trunks and loose rocks. Having a specific place in mind, he hoped he could make it there before Comcka caught him up. Wily old bastard. Why’s he so fast? Ah! There it is.
In front of him rose a plateau of rock, and between it ran a crevice fit enough for one person. If Comcka followed him in, Irulen would have the advantage of reach to keep the lunatic at bay. Comcka wouldn’t be able shift from side to side to outmaneuver him. Irulen checked behind him to find the pathway clear. There were no disruptions in the sunlight that poured in the entrance from whence he came. He sheathed his sword and continued on. Convincing himself that he had lost his pursuer at the pass, Irulen laughed as he closed in on the exit.
A silhouetted figure stepped into the portal like a door slamming shut. Shit.
Comcka screamed as he charged headlong into the crevice.
Noticing there’d be no keeping the bull at bay, Irulen looked up and jumped, securing his feet against both sides of granite wall. He shimmied upward as fast as he mustered. Pain ripped at his groin as the jagged rocks tore at him. Many of his possessions fell below him and clanked against the hard floor. He felt Comcka leap to grab him, missing by the slightest of measures. The older man spit and cursed in his own language, then ran back the way he’d come.
Irulen just pulled himself up onto the plateau when Comcka emerged from the hidden slope he had planned on using. This guy is unreal. Irulen found himself no longer sure of his next course of action.
Slower in his approach this time, as if preparing to counter any move Irulen might make, Comcka once again drew his sword. The man’s scowl convulsed as if a smile pushed from beneath it. Satisfaction floated in his eyes. “I am a hunter, Master Wizard. I’ve been waiting for a long time now—do you think I haven’t surveyed this land?”
“Well, it is quite a nice place, now isn’t it?”
“Indeed, I’ve grown to know it as intimately as I’ve come to know you. I’ve learned everything about you and this place. I know the abomination you made here, the crimes you’ve committed. I started to worry… that you wouldn’t come, but I had nowhere else to go. Your track grew cold for me here. We all yearn to go home, do we not? As a refugee, I know this. I’ve been wanting to return home for some twenty years now. Now I am twice displaced, because of you!”
Irulen drew his sword and assumed a defensive stance.
Comcka laughed at him. “You northerners know nothing of swordsmanship.”
“I’ve cleaved a skull or two in my day.”
Comcka laughed again and shook his head. “You are a funny man, you know that? We might have been friends once... in another situation… at another time.”
“We might be friends still. I’m not against it.”
“The time for jokes is over.” Comcka’s face fell deathly slack.
“I just want a few last words. There is a man behind this all, you see, and it isn’t me. He had to force me out of Northforge so he pulled some strings and made things happen. He’s used your pride and the blood of your friends as leverage to move me along. I’m on my way to him now. You could even come and help… we could use your skill.”
“Spoken like someone with little choice left.”
“Then why haven’t I used magic to defend myself? I mean you no harm.”
“It is of no matter. Defend yourself!”
Maybe he just ceased to care. Maybe he thought Comcka would think better of it. Maybe he believed something else entirely. Irulen dropped his sword. Maybe…
Time slowed down and Comcka’s face came into detailed focus. Not one aspect of it betrayed anyt
hing less than anguish and anger. His lips opened in a snarl, his teeth gritted as if they knowingly tried to crush each other. Sweat ran off the furrowed wrinkles of his forehead and off the tips of his mangled black hair. Folds of skin welled up beneath his eyes. It all twitched together, one big mess of convulsing hate.
Irulen would soon be killed. He felt frozen, his chest seized. The instinct to survive took over, something innate. Primordial. He reached down to retrieve his sword though he doubted he’d be able to raise it in time. The pain would be penetrating and complete as the sword tore his flesh and bones asunder. A shine of the sword caught his eye as the blade came close.
Then, right when he expected to feel the tear of his skin, the sword shined again as it withdrew. Irulen raised his sword and clamored to his feet.
Comcka cursed again with unrecognizable words as he swatted at a new assailant.
Irulen smiled as a flurry of black feathers buffeted the face of his attacker. Max had arrived, though it surprised Irulen that his friend had sensed the trouble from so far away. He felt the field tilt toward his favor, balancing the standoff between Comcka and himself.
The angry foreigner swatted Max hard with the back of his hand, sending the bird into the air, then he swiped with his sword. The sharp edge barely grazed the bottom of Max’s claws. Black flecks of talon fluttered against the sky.
An opening presented itself as Comcka defended himself against the swooping of the raven. Irulen lowered his shoulder and drove himself into the ribs of his adversary. A great deal of weight centered on Comcka’s torso as they hit the ground. Comcka gasped, the air knocked out of him. Irulen stood, knowing full well that he should leave while there was an opening. Whether out of curiosity or concern, he found himself cemented firmly in place. Comcka clutched his ribs as he writhed on the ground.
It took a respite for Irulen to notice how tired he had become. A specific drop of sweat ran down his face. Perhaps I’m just too tired to run anymore. He swore he heard the grinding of Comcka’s teeth and muffled muttering coming from beyond them. The older man pinned the point of his sword to the rock and placed his hands upon the hilt. Grunting with effort, he succeeded in raising himself to his feet. His breaths were raspy, but he smiled through them. Something about it unnerved Irulen, as if an element existed in this situation but remained cloaked in shadow.
He spoke his insecurity. “Can’t you just give it up? You proved your point. This fight is going nowhere.”
Comcka coughed and laughed while dodging another of Max’s attacks. “I am only going one place. There’s nothing left for me but to take you with me or leave you with as much pain as possible.” He cleared his throat, raised two fingers to his lips, and whistled. A bird call responded from above, but the sound did not belong to Max. A gigantic hawk circled above and dove to intercept Max. Irulen’s instinct kicked in, more than willing to neutralize a threat to his friend. He hoped the life of the Hawk wouldn’t weigh against the salvation of his magic. He hoped, though he didn’t believe it, that the life of a hawk was worth less than a human. He turned the palm of his hand upward and folded his pinky and ringer finger down. He pressed the remaining upright fingers together and aimed them at the enemy hawk. Not close enough yet.
Irulen followed the creature downward and waited for it to come into range. He would have to time his strike perfectly to down the hawk before it collided with Max. Closer… Closer…
A sudden pain shot through his head as his skull reverberated with a thud. A rock fell to the ground as he did. He grasped at the newfound wound.
“Ha! Did I not make it clear that I’ve learned everything about you? From your hometown to your raven, I learned it all! This hawk has been trained to kill ravens. It has been trained to enjoy killing ravens!”
Irulen looked to the sky, not seeing any sign of Max or the hawk. Nothing on the ground either—a hopeful sign. He smirked and responded, “You might have learned everything about me, but I doubt you’ve learned much about Max.”
Comcka cocked an eyebrow and waved his hand in dismissal. “A trivial point.”
“Is it though?” Irulen dusted himself. “Did you know that Max was orphaned when I found him, pushed out of his nest?”
“So?”
“Do you know why he was kicked out of his nest?”
“It could be for many reasons.”
“Well... there is one reason in particular that you should be aware of.”
“What’s that?”
A raven’s call filled the air, and another, and another.
“Because Max was born with magic, just like I was. And he was shunned, just like I was.”
A chorus of ravens closed in around them.
“I tried saving you from my magic.” Irulen sighed. “But there isn’t much I can do to save you from his.”
The hawk swooped into the clearing above them, trailed by a congress of ravens. The hawk pulled up and stuck its talons toward the aggressors, but that moment of suspension provided just the opening the ravens needed. They swarmed the hawk mid-air. Feathers and guts fell to the floor, the hawk’s head followed. It bounced off the boulder in front of Comcka and came to rest looking at the man.
The ravens swooped and swarmed the man, oblivious to Irulen’s presence. A familiar touch landed on Irulen’s shoulder, and he turned to meet Max’s eyes. They held each other’s gaze for a moment and then looked back at the swarm.
Comcka haplessly swung at his assailants. He succeeded in splitting two of the ravens into pieces, but there were many more to take their places. The fight was ferocious, and the old soldier wore down as if his body were exposed to an open flame. Eventually, he was left kneeling, his skin ripped and all but flayed, a pool of blood forming below him.
Irulen walked to him. He had measured his next move and decided that as long as there was none of his magic involved then he was clear to act. He stepped behind Comcka and lined his sword up with the man’s neck.
“This… This is mercy.” The wizard drew back his sword and swung it across with all his might. Comcka’s head rolled onto the rocky floor, his body slumped sideways. Blood filled cracks of the rock.
Irulen wiped sweat from his brow. Another memory for a place full of memories.
He sat down. His breath came up short as if a snake squeezed his lungs. A shiver ran up his spine, and he brought his hands to his head. His shoulders heaved as his eyes dropped salty tears down his cheeks. It had been buried, his pain. Like something long dead had crawled from the soil of his soul, prying and slithering its way through his attempts to keep it down… climbing into his mouth and spilling into the early spring air.
Irulen fought the urge to scream. Involuntary sounds erupted like the exclamations of child-birth or painful constipation. He felt like he fast became a monster; his claws extended, his skin peeling to reveal a leathery, glistening surface. His joints and muscles felt as if he were stretched over a torture rack. Irulen curled into a fetal position as if holding the suffering inside. Terrified of the pain he felt, he held himself tightly as his body lamented his misfortunes.
◆◆◆
The corpsefire still burnt as Irulen passed through on his way out of town. One-handed Hugh and Old Lady Ballywick stood with the other remnants of the town. They stood close and regarded Irulen with icy protest.
“I won’t be back!” he promised. He paused over the felled dog, Rany, and lamented the canine’s fate. Just when he stepped to move on, Irulen caught something out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t be sure, so he knelt down and put his ear to the dog’s mouth. She’s breathing. The more he stared the more sure he became that the dog’s chest was indeed rising and falling, albeit softly.
The wizard’s hands heated up as he placed them over the dog’s chest. This... is mercy. He wasn’t sure what the process looked like from the outside, but he finished to the townspeople wide-eyed with awe, perhaps tinged with terror. Max rejoined him as he stood and dusted his knees.
Rany convulsed and vomi
ted on the ground. The dog raised her head and blinked her confusion at Irulen. Irulen nodded toward the town exit and started walking. Rany fell into step next to him.
A sudden knock to his shoulder caused Irulen to think maybe a rock had been thrown at him, but he turned to find another raven landing on his shoulder, buffeting his face with its wings.
“What the...?”
Max cawed, signaling his approval.
“Oh great, so one stayed with you?”
Max fluffed his feathers.
“What’s her name?”
Max cocked his head at Irulen and stared blankly.
“Well, I guess Farah will figure that out. Perfect. Just perfect. Two ravens for two shoulders, and a dog.”
Chapter 14: The Digger’s Fog
Irulen never wanted a dog. Max provided all the companionship he ever needed. Plus, he was mostly self-sufficient... when he wasn’t being lazy. Irulen kept snacks on hand; stuff like grain and dried out pieces of meat, but nothing juicy or perishable lined his pocket. Max kept himself satisfied with a full omnivorous diet of anything he could find. His variety of tastes and resourcefulness meant that Irulen could be confident his feathered friend would always take care of himself. Even now, Max entertained himself with his new companion. Probably enjoying the freedom of being neck deep in some carrion. Irulen sighed. A dog, however, is a responsibility in every sense of the damn word. Especially this one.
Rany whined as she walked alongside him.
He stopped and looked the dog in the eyes. The medium-sized beast angled her head down, frowned at the ground, and raised her eyes in some sort of plea. Irulen stretched his neck to one side then the other and glanced back at his new burden. “What? Are you hungry?”
Rany’s brown, floppy ears tried to rise but failed. She cocked her head at him, her tongue hung out of the side of her mouth. A long strand of mucus and saliva dripped onto the ground.
Irulen winced. He grabbed out a piece of salted beef and tossed it to the dog who received it greedily. Irulen smirked with satisfaction and walked on, but the dog whined again. He sighed. This is a small part of my penance. Have to make things right again after the shit I’ve just done. Silent images of sin crossed his mind. Hugh with his handless stub. Comcka kneeling, his blood squirting and splattering against the rock as Max’s group of ravens stripped him of life. A night’s restless sleep and a new day did little to quench the dull throbbing in his chest.
