The Cursed Herald
Page 13
A part of the Dark Labyrinth was used as a dwelling for the bandits. Entering the hideout, she could hear the voices of men and women. The missing women were found, as well as the fiends behind the abduction. Around the corner, she saw one of the hostages being grabbed by a captor. In his other hand was a weapon. Mara arrived not a moment too soon. In a flash of silver, the bandit no longer had a grip on the woman’s arm. He froze upon seeing his forearm fall to the ground. Blood squirted from the stump as he released a bloodcurdling scream. She grabbed his head and slit his throat, reducing his cries to a loud gurgling sound. The other was dispatched, though his screams drew attention to her location. Two more appeared, but Mara slew them. After dealing with the fiends, she felt confused.
‘That was it?’
Despite defeating eight bandits, Mara couldn’t help but feel they were rather easy. She checked the corpses and found a key to the cells. The huntress turned to face the women. Walking towards them, she noticed their horrified expressions. She thought the looks were aimed at her, but noticed a looming shadow. Mara turned to see a large hulk with a sledgehammer raised over his head.
She raised her sword and blocked the hit, but was caught off guard by the immense strength of the brute. He stood at least two feet taller than her. His muscles were humongous compared to his head. No doubt the muscle between his ears was smaller than the ones in his arms. There was no reasoning with him. His strength overpowered Mara, knocking her to the ground. It seemed to be over when he raised the sledgehammer again, ready to deliver the final blow.
Mara wasn’t about to give up yet. Looking at his legs, she swung her sword across his shins. The large man screamed and fell on his back, his feet no longer attached to his legs. The huntress was stunned she could pull it off without her sword breaking. It was like slashing through two thick tree trunks. After this was done, she would need to visit Talon. Rising to her feet, Mara stared at the brute. The big muscled man was still screaming in pain, though the loss of blood from his severed feet made him weaker. No one else came to his rescue since he was the last one remaining. His screams died down while he grew more pale. She towered over his head. Taking her sword, Mara positioned the tip of her blade to his forehead. He didn’t fight back. The sword went through his skull and he stopped moving.
After removing the sword from his head, she turned to the hostages. The women looked startled while some were put off by the blood and gore. As Mara approached them, her face returned to normal. The hostages were like frightened rabbits locked in a cage. She removed her mask to show a human face. Some of the women grew calmer, but some remained apprehensive. They knew she wasn’t human.
“I was sent by Chancellor Davis to save you.” She took out the pendant and gazed into it. She saw the Watcher’s face within the stone, nodding to her. Then the image disappeared. Mara lifted her gaze to them, seeing the curiosity in their eyes. “The Guardsmen will arrive soon, making sure you’re returned to your homes.”
She opened the cages. The hostages remained frozen until one stepped forward. She watched Mara while walking past her. When the others realized there was no more danger, they began to exit the cage. As the women left their confines, the huntress noticed something on the large brute’s person. A piece of paper caught her eye. Mara reached down and took the folded paper. There was a seal on it, indicating an important document. She opened the letter and began to read.
‘Theo,
I would like to thank you on behalf of the Faith for your services. You and your men have done an outstanding job five years ago. It’s unfortunate our relationship ended on a bitter note. I’m sure the recent years have been difficult for you since the Black Smoke incident. We still upheld our agreement—the death of the Black Smoke, and the continued payment for your cooperation.
We acknowledge to have run up quite a debt to you and your guild. Times have been difficult for the Faith. As a result we are unable to pay the previous instalment, but offer another solution. We offer you forty women to do with as you please. You can use them as slaves or sell them, and whatever you do is none of our concern.
We hope this transaction pleases you, and we can work together again in the future.
Praise Kallikratés,
- P.V.’
Mara lowered the paper and stood frozen while waiting with the rescued hostages.
***
After a few hours, Mara spotted the transports. The Guardsmen had arrived to take the hostages home. Much to her surprise, Chancellor Davis was among the rescue party. He approached her.
“Thank you for helping Ardana,” Davis began. “Your actions will be remembered…” His voice trailed off when she stormed past him, shoving the letter against his chest. He grabbed the letter, making sure not to drop it. He was baffled with her behaviour. “What is the meaning of this?” He then looked at the letter and began to read. His eyes widened. “This can’t be!”
He gaped at her. Mara watched him and shook her head.
Davis looked back at the letter. “I can’t believe this!” He saw the seal and inspected it. “This is their official seal.” He gazed at the writing. “This writing… I recognize it.” He saw the signed initials.
Studying his face, Mara reckoned Davis was familiar with whoever wrote this letter.
“I found the hostages,” she said. “About my payment?”
The chancellor glanced back at her. “Ah, yes… I’m sorry, but could you come to the Council Hall tomorrow morning?”
“Excuse me?”
The chancellor frowned. “I’m sorry, Miss Ashwood, but this is very serious!” He raised the letter to his face. “I must find out what’s going on. You’ll be paid, I promise.”
She sighed. “Fine, I’ll go tomorrow.” Mara hoped this wasn’t some trap.
While riding home with the rescue convoy, Mara saw the vast field north to Mirahyll. Staring at the field, she thought she saw a figure in the far distance. It stood before the forest at the foot of Ghost Mountain. The huntress couldn’t see who it was because it was too dark. For some reason, Mara couldn’t help but feel she was being watched. She took her eyes off for a brief second. When she looked back, the figure was gone. Her eyes scanned the field, but couldn’t see anything. She shrugged it off and returned to Mirahyll.
Once she reached the city, Mara dismounted from her horse. The two ladies parted ways for now. The black mare galloped away while the huntress walked the rest of the way to the Moen Residence.
***
James was happy to see her return.
“You came back,” he said cheerfully.
Mara gave a strange expression. “Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Oh, it’s just… Ah, never mind. How did it go?”
The huntress’ face became frozen.
James took notice and frowned. “It didn’t go well, did it?”
The Watcher approached the two.
“It went well,” Mara replied. “Everyone was found, safe and sound. No innocent lives were lost. Mirahyll is in the process of returning everyone to their rightful homes.”
“That’s good, but what’s wrong? You saved lives and you’re a hero, yet you don’t act like it.”
She stared at him. “Those women were not abducted.”
James looked surprised. “What?”
Mara nodded. “Kallikratés hired the Blackthorns to terrorize Ardana over five years ago,” she revealed. “I was the Black Smoke. The Faith sought my recapture as part of their agreement with Theo. Much of their gold was also spent on keeping him silent until they can no longer pay him, so they decided to sell the women they arrested.” Mara said, “Chancellor Davis wants to know what’s going on. He asked me to come to the Council Hall tomorrow morning, but something isn’t right.”
The shock faded from his face, then he frowned. “It could be a trap? Maybe we should go with you?” James suggested.
“I don’t know,” Mara replied. “The last thing I need is to drag you two down with me.”
“I agree,” Aspen said. “Our plan would be less successful if we lost you.”
Mara nodded in agreement. “Better to have strength in numbers.”
“That is true,” the Watcher responded.
“Okay, then it’s settled,” James said. “I got something for you.” He gestured to the table.
Mara spotted two urns sitting there. They appeared to be funeral urns.
“Are those…?” Mara paused. A strange sensation washed over her.
James gave a sympathetic look. “After your mother passed away, the hospital cremated her body. While you were gone, I managed to retrieve her ashes without drawing too much suspicion.” He gazed at the urns before looking at her again. “I believe you, of all people, deserved some closure. You lost your life and your family. I also lost my family, but I got Allen back because of your selflessness. This is the least I could do to repay you.”
Mara was stunned by his generosity. “You didn’t have to do this.”
Approaching them, she noticed the other urn. One of them contained Mom’s ashes, but what about the other one? A thought crossed her mind, but it couldn’t be.
James looked at the urns. “While retrieving your mother’s ashes, I saw this old box sitting in the morgue. It sat there for thirty years. No one claimed them, and there was no name. So, I checked the records to find out whose ashes these belonged to.” He turned to her again. “I found a name: Mathias Ashwood.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Dad,” Mara said barely above a whisper.
She reached for the urns. While holding them close to her chest, a single teardrop fell on one of the urns. Aware she was crying, Mara held them with one arm and wiped the tears from her eyes with her free hand. She looked at James.
“How? He died in the temple.”
“Davis mentioned an incident about your mother,” James revealed. “At the time, I couldn’t tell you, even though you deserved to know.”
“Know what?” Mara asked.
“Thirty years ago, your mother dragged your father’s body through the streets of Mirahyll,” he confessed. “She claimed the goddess killed you and your father, then made her drag his corpse all the way back from Golden Mountain as punishment. No one believed her and thought she murdered her husband.”
Mara shot a glare at him. She grew angry upon learning what her mother went through. It was much worse than it seemed.
James glanced down. “There was nothing the doctors could do. Allen and I witnessed this, but neither of us had the heart to tell you,” he continued. “The doctors ordered Mr. Ashwood’s body to be cremated. Your mom was put on trial for his murder, but was committed to the hospital’s psychiatric ward after the judge deemed her insane.” He lifted his gaze to her. “It was the last time we ever saw them until I became a doctor. By the time I was assigned to her, she already fell into a catatonic state and became unresponsive.”
She gazed back at the urns. Even though they were reduced to ashes, Mom and Dad were now together after being separated for thirty years. The suffering they endured was over. She closed her eyes while James and Aspen watched her.
“Maybe we can find a place to bury your parents after we meet with the chancellor,” James suggested.
She looked back at him and nodded. The three called it a night. Mara sat on her bed and gazed at the urns sitting on the small table. Swearing Kallisto would pay, she lay down and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Twelve
A Father’s Gift
Mara tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. It was past midnight when a hand rested on her shoulder, shaking her awake.
“Mara,” a male voice called. “Mara, wake up. Let’s go practise.”
Her eyes shot open. That was Dad! Mara sat up and saw a shadowy figure in the centre of her room. She blinked once and the black mass vanished. She stared at the empty space for a while, then heard a horse neigh. Looking at the window, she got out of bed and walked towards it. It was still nighttime as the stars shone in the dark sky. The lady was galloping in the clearing north of Mirahyll. Mara watched the black mare in confusion. Something was going on and she should investigate. After getting dressed, she went outside without waking anyone up.
***
The huntress stood alone in the clearing. The horse was gone as if she were never there in the first place. Mara looked around. Then the shadowy figure appeared. It stood on the other side of the clearing, just before the forest at the foot of Ghost Mountain. This was the same entity she spotted on the way home. The figure turned around and disappeared into the forest.
“Wait!” Mara ran across the clearing, chasing after it.
As soon as she entered the woods, Mara lost sight of the mysterious figure and became lost. After wandering for minutes, she found a path. The snow was beaten down by footprints. While gazing at the path, Mara felt she was in familiar territory. A brief memory flashback showed a younger version of herself as she followed Dad. For one moment, Mara thought she saw him as he walked away from her. She followed after his image while travelling on the trail.
At the end was an abandoned house surrounded by overgrown trees, tall grass, and frozen vines. The familiar sensation continued to grow within Mara. The more she gazed at the building, the more she began to remember. She had been here before. Her eyes widened as she almost fell to her knees. This was her old family home long ago and the place where she was born. After her birth, Mom wanted to move to Mirahyll. But Dad built this house and wasn’t ready to let it go. Instead of selling it, he transformed it into a blacksmith’s workshop—a place where he continued his trade as a hunter and forged his weapons.
She remembered coming here as a child. Dad often brought her here to train or show off the workshop. He intended to leave this place for her when it was time, but that day never came. Despite being old and derelict, Mara was astounded the workshop remained standing. Taking a few steps towards it, she heard voices coming from within. It sounded like three men who didn’t belong there. She reached the door and saw them. Three bandits found the workshop and decided to rob the place. Their black and brown leather armour looked familiar. They were members of the Blackthorn Guild. It didn’t take long for them to notice her. They unsheathed their weapons in response.
The first bandit asked, “Who’s there?”
“Ah, it’s just a woman,” the second said.
The third looked at her and questioned, “Hey, isn’t she the Cursed Herald?”
The first one had an idea. “Hmm, if we present her head, we’ll get paid.”
They began to approach her with their weapons. Knowing they intended to kill her, Mara responded by unsheathing her sword. Her eyes glowed as she stared at them.
The first fool ran at her, but she sliced through his neck with relative ease. His head toppled to the floor, startling the other two bandits. They thought she was easy prey. The second had enough courage to challenge her, only to be impaled through the heart. She kicked him off of her sword. The third lost his nerve and ran away. When he was about five feet away, Mara drew her crossbow and took aim. The huntress pulled the trigger. The arrow punctured his spinal cord, making his legs useless. He hit the ground crying in pain. She walked towards him. Using her foot, she rolled him onto his back. He whimpered as tears rolled down his face, but he wasn’t fooling her. Reloading her crossbow, Mara took aim at his head.
“Please,” he begged, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.
She pulled the trigger. No longer was he whimpering or moving. The huntress gazed at his lifeless body before returning to her old home. She dragged the other two bodies out and burned them together with some matches found inside.
Using the moon water in her flask, Mara looked around. Thirty years had not been kind to the old Ashwood Workshop. Other than time degrading her former family home, it had also fallen victim to vandalism and theft. All sorts
of weapons used to adorn the walls and tables, but now they were stripped bare. It seemed the bandits she just killed weren’t the first to come here. Only the grindstone and the wooden table in the dining area remained. Dad showed her how to use the grindstone when she was a child. She hoped she still remembered how to use it and planned to fix her weapon. While examining the grindstone, a figure could be seen in the corner of her eye. In a swift motion, Mara unsheathed her sword. She stared at the figure with glowing eyes. Upon taking a closer look, she realized this was no bandit. Her eyes widened as they stopped glowing.
“Dad?”
The ghost-like vision of her father stood before her. He looked the same as the last time she saw him alive. Another memory flashed in her mind. Dad was busy in his workshop when his daughter walked in. His hair was black, indicating a very early memory. Mara was only a small child. His large burly build sat before a metal anvil while he hammered a weapon into shape. She had to be quiet when he worked, as she was always told. He knew she was right behind him. He looked back at her with dark eyes. His face grew into a warm and bright smile.
“Mara,” her father greeted.
Snapping out of the flashback, Mara found herself alone. The image of her father vanished, but a note and key were left behind. The moonlight illuminated them, drawing her attention. Picking them up, Mara began to read the note.
“To my daughter, when she returns… Look under the table.”
She studied the note before searching the wooden table. Examining it, she couldn’t see anything. There were no compartments. She walked around it, noticing how the floorboards made a different creaking sound. Moving the table and rug away, she found a trap door underneath. The bandits missed this. The door was locked, though the key was a perfect fit. Opening the door, she saw a ladder leading down. She had never seen this before.