Simon Blackfyre and the Enemy Within

by A J Callen

  Esther landed on the well’s edge and ruffled her feathers, fluffing them up in a sliver of warm and welcome sunshine.

  “There you are. Where did you go, girl? Did Mister Byrch have a nice piece of dried meat waiting for you?”

  She squawked and bobbed her head.

  “And did you see our strange visitor? Tell me, Esther. What am I to make of Euriel Glanduer? Should I trust her if we meet again?”

  Esther clawed at the stone. She raised her wings and flew back off into the night.

  An intuition, something Simon knew he must believe without ever knowing the reason, took hold. “Too late. I must be mad already if I’m listening to the counsel of a bird.”

  Simon picked up the overturned bucket and lowered it back down the well. The burning pain in his chest throbbed but was now bearable. He yawned, longing for bed, grateful no other voice invaded his troubled thoughts.

  Yet, looking up at the night sky, he wondered if any would ever sleep safely again under a blanket of shining stars.

  Chapter 17

  It Follows at Night

  The early rising sun glowed unexpectedly warm on Rachel’s face for an autumn morning; the day dawned warmer and drier, oddly enough, than it had been all summer. It was a good sign at the start of their journey. She pulled the straps of her saddlebag and checked they were not too tight on her tan gelding, Rupert.

  She counted her arrows again and secured her quiver, all the while wondering if she would ever have reason to raise her bow against someone…or something.

  Rachel had been far too anxious to eat more than a few mouthfuls at breakfast, preferring to watch Simon and Jack enjoy their last hearty meal at Farrhaven for at least a fortnight. They laughed and teased each other and, for a short time anyway, she forgot her uneasiness about their unknown journey ahead. The malaise crept in again when it was time to bid the remaining protectors farewell.

  Jack poured water into the deep trough for his black mare, Panora, and Rachel’s horse, Rupert. “We need a good downpour. What I’d give to drink fresh rainwater from a cistern again.” The larger animals with heartier stomachs could drink their fill of the stale well water but the Farrhaven cats and chickens would often turn their noses and beaks up at it.

  Simon smiled at Rachel as he groomed Jesamine, the horse standing patiently eating her oats; her coat was glossy and shining in the first morning of sunlight they had seen in days, the sky always overcast but never quite managing to rain.

  He patted Jesamine’s shoulder. “Good girl. Good girl, Jesamine. Eat as much as you want. We’ve a long journey ahead of us.”

  “Aye. Five days if the uncommonly good weather keeps, though I agree we could use a good dousing. A week or longer if it turns.” Byrch secured two big saddle bags on Shamus’s back. “And that’s according to a faded map in an old book that may be nothing more than a fairy tale.”

  “Is that what you think, Mister Byrch?” Jack asked. “That the Eye of the Overseer is a myth?”

  “Nay, Jack. I didn’t say that, now, did I? I haven’t traveled in that region of the south lands and there are many mountains there to be found. Of that much we can be certain. Some go by many names depending on whose legend you want to believe. It’s what awaits us inside the mountain that troubles me.”

  Rachel checked her satchel of healing herbs and remedies given to her by Lady Bellemar. “You mean if we find it.”

  “Aye, lass. That’s just what I meant. No use worrying ourselves about something if it doesn’t exist in the first place.”

  Kovoth stroked the long mane of his smoky gray stallion, Shade. “And what if it does, Byrch? I mean, what if it does exist? Imagine what men such as we could do if we wielded swords like that.” He motioned toward Lord Lionsbury adjusting his saddle on Aramis.

  A frown momentarily crossed Byrch’s face. “That’s exactly why, Kovoth, it’s because of men like us that I usually imagine the worst.”

  Kovoth coughed with hoarse laughter and spat his phlegm on the ground. “Nothing wrong with being honest about who you are when it’s time to step forward and be counted worthy by the King.” He winked. “Wait and see.”

  Rachel handed a grooming brush to Simon. “Are you feeling better? I hope the lavender helped. You have to be more careful when you’re working in the foundry. Sparks can fly anywhere. You’re lucky it wasn’t your hair.”

  Simon massaged his chest where he said he had been burned. “Yes, thank you. Your salve has soothed away the pain. I hardly feel it anymore. Unbelievable, really.”

  “I could take a look at it if you wish. See how it’s healing?” She touched his chest near his brand. Simon swallowed and stepped back, fastening the top button of his tunic.

  “You’re very kind. Your remedy’s worked wonders and I promise I’ll be more careful around the fire next time.”

  Simon heaved Jesamine’s saddle high onto the horse’s back, not taking up the offer of the alluring Rachel peering at his chest, lest he should feel suddenly overcome with desire at this most awkward place and time.

  Rachel adjusted her stirrups. She was glad to hear that she had helped a close friend but couldn’t help being suspicious all the same. Such a strange young man, she thought. She never knew quite what to make of him when she was in his vicinity. It always seemed that part of him wanted to draw her closer, yet another wanted to keep her at a safe distance like just now, with the offer to inspect his wound. It was fair to say their terrifying ordeal in the Corridor of Shadows had forged a confusing bond between them, one that Rachel could not explain but none the less felt more strongly with each passing day.

  Although the same ordeal had brought her closer to Jack too, it wasn’t the same. Jack was open and unabashed about his feelings, whereas Simon seemed guarded and cloaked in mystery whenever he was near. It was as if he didn’t quite trust himself.

  Lord Lionsbury rode up to them on his chestnut stallion, Aramis. “Good sirs. We have all exchanged our farewells. This fine day favors excellent riding and the Holy Seer bids that we depart as soon as possible.” Farrhaven’s front gate began to creak open. “Emissaries are arriving from Avidene tomorrow. There will be discussions on how best to utilize the remaining protectors throughout the Kingdom if called upon in these dire times.”

  Rachel shifted in her saddle. “They’re leaving Farrhaven?”

  “Some, until the immediate threat is removed. Towns far from the Capitol are asking for troops to be garrisoned within local homes. The head of each noble family will be given command of a company and choose their aides with the approval of the King’s Council.”

  Lord Lionsbury’s face was more drawn, paler since battling the Necrolis. When Rachel had first met him, he’d ridden straight and proud in the saddle but now he was slightly hunched as he held the reins. “Any news from Tillingsgate, your Lordship?”

  “None which you should take as good news, Miss Fallbrook.” He turned to Simon. “Although unverified reports from the region around Grimsby are not as promising.”

  Simon trotted beside them astride Jesamine. “I care not for that town, your Lordship, but I do not wish any of the people to suffer as I have seen here, not even the Pumbertons.”

  “Then let us ride with the wind at our backs and a prayer in our hearts that the road we follow leads us but closer to our deliverance.”

  As their group passed through the open gates, Rachel turned and bade a silent farewell to the sheltering walls of Farrhaven.

  “Best you keep looking forward, lass.” Mr. Byrch thumped the earth beside her on the massive Shamus. “Our friends will be waiting for us but there’s only one direction we can follow now. And you know what that is.”

  Rachel took a deep breath and pulled gently on her reins. Her family lived several leagues to the west in Tillingsgate and despite his Lordship’s encouraging report, she couldn’t help but fear for their safety. At that moment, she yearned for nothing more than to gallop home and feel the loving embrace of her parents and childhood frie
nds again.

  The ground swept by beneath Rupert. With Farrhaven no longer in sight, the terrible events that had happened behind its walls faded into the limitless expanse opening before them.

  A crisp, clean wind raced against Rachel’s skin, cleansing her breath and refreshing her heart with new hope. Her spirits lifted the further they rode across the dry, open plains, dotted over with clumps of towering autumn-colored oaks and maples.

  She looked ahead to Simon and said a silent prayer. He was with her and she with him, both on another journey to a place that lay somewhere unseen between shadow and light. She was glad they were together, at least.

  Lord Lionsbury was at the head of their party, followed by Mr. Kovoth and then Simon. She was in the middle ahead of Jack. Finally, Mr. Byrch brought up the rear.

  Esther, the ever-vigilant hawk, circled overhead and would disappear for a time only to return and perch on Mr. Byrch’s huge arm for another tasty treat. Rachel petted Rupert’s mane. The journey would not be so difficult after all in such beautiful country and in the warm company of those she trusted the most, with the exception of the totally disagreeable Mr. Kovoth, of course.

  In the late afternoon, they rested and ate while the horses drank from the rushing waters of River Evermere deep inside the Aspenvale Forest. They exchanged few words and Byrch was constantly peering into the dense woods with one hand on his labrys, his great battle ax. He gave the impression of expecting a lumbering giant to emerge from the woods.

  “You worry too much, Byrch,” Kovoth said as he stepped beside him. “Most of the time there’s only trees in the forest looking back at you.”

  “Aye, and that side I can see clear enough. It’s the other I can’t see around that keeps my hand on my ax. You can’t be too careful.”

  Once mounted again, they trod up a long, steep path out of a cloven valley thickly enclosed with pines. A vapor of gray cloud curdled the blue sky high above the blackened peaks that rose sharply before them.

  Lord Lionsbury paused Aramis. “We will hold to this course, through the Mountains of Haramir, for three days. If there is truth to the old book, we shall find it by way of a breach between the peaks. From there, we continue south staying close to the border but not entering the wastelands of Nadruth.”

  Jack stroked Panora’s black mane. “And if we do not find the old book to be truthful, your Lordship?”

  “If not unhappily captured by the slavers, then we return to Farrhaven as quickly as the horses will allow and prepare to face our inhuman enemy with all the power that desperate mortals can summon forth.”

  They followed a canyon stream that lay between outlying buttresses of the mountains until the sun was at its lowest point on the horizon. Rounding a bend, they came upon a small graveled clearing near several gigantic boulders.

  Lord Lionsbury raised his hand and halted the party. “What do you say, Mister Byrch?”

  Byrch grunted. “Water and good protection if we need it. We can tether the horses to those pines. I’ll take first watch after dinner, your Lordship.”

  “And you, Mister Kovoth?”

  “I agree with Byrch. I’ll take second watch, your Lordship.” Kovoth looked back at Rachel and grinned. “Our most valued protectors can sleep soundly now, knowing the King’s Guard is standing watch.”

  Rachel turned away with a shudder. Of all the guards her Holiness could have sent… why him? Why didn’t she just send Mr. Joren?

  The cool night was fast approaching. After a welcomed and satisfying meal of beef stew and vegetables, Rachel leaned back against a boulder watching Simon and Jack spar with their swords within a ring of unlit torches. The clang of steel set her blood racing and her teeth on edge but she held her reproving tongue captured inside her cheek, trusting instead in their display of discipline and skill.

  Lord Lionsbury stood, hands folded behind his back, observing every move. “To remain safe, now, keep the distance of your extended arms and sword and do not be so eager to meet your opponent’s blade. Stay light in your boots so that your feet do not become accustomed to the same spot on the earth for longer than the merest of moments. One step back for every two steps forward. Your individual initiation journeys from your night in the forest are now part of who you are, given to each in his own measure. Thought leads to doubt, action to confidence, back to action once more, and finally…”

  Jack lunged forward. Simon spun elegantly on his heel out of the way and brought the tip of his blade back around just below Jack’s throat.

  Rachel gasped. “That’s enough!”

  His Lordship smiled. “Victory.”

  Kovoth clapped. “We might make a decent fighter out of you yet, Blackfyre.”

  Jack dropped his sword. “You were never really interested in starting that little insurrection Callor mentioned, were you?”

  Simon lowered his sword, smiled a little and shrugged. “Indeed not. Not if it’s this easy to defeat a young noble. What sense of fair play would there be in that?” He dropped his weapon.

  “You smug, smarmy bastard.” Jack laughed. “I’ll wipe that smirk off your face.” He leaped at Simon and tackled him to the ground. They rolled and grappled with each other, neither succeeding in pinning the other for more than a few seconds.

  Byrch joined Rachel by the campfire. “My wager was on Jack but it’s plain to see that Simon has come a long way in a short time. I would be honored to fight alongside both of them, though I rather hope it doesn’t come to that,” Byrch ventured.

  Rachel stirred the embers with a stick. “I hope you won’t be disappointed by others not so strong or skilled with the sword.”

  Mr. Byrch scratched his beard. “Oh, lass, what I wouldn’t give for a pair of hawk eyes and steady hands like yours. It can take several strikes of the blade to fell the enemy face-to-face, but only one arrow to find its mark from a safe distance.” A flash of warmth crossed his rough-cut features.

  “If our enemy should force us to war, you and his Lordship can count on me. Though I pray they do not, I will not fail my friends or our people.”

  “Aye. You stand with your brothers and sisters in arms and they with you. Together, we’ll face those vile demons, come what may.”

  The horses whinnied, snorted, and stamped. As the sun retreated behind the horizon Rachel fixed her eyes on the dark flecks in the distance, like big leaves blowing on the wind. “Lord Lionsbury?” She pointed at the whirling cloud. “What is that?”

  Simon picked up his sword. “What is it?”

  His Lordship narrowed his eyes and drew a breath. “Light the torches. Mister Byrch and I will guard the horses. The rest of you close ranks, weapons ready, and do not break defensive formation until I tell you.”

  Jack rushed back from the horses. “Those are cave bats, aren’t they? They’re harmless.” He removed a flaming branch from the depths of the fire; it glowed orange, the brittle point snapping off and falling back into the flames as he retracted it.

  Lord Lionsbury withdrew his sword. The fiery beam slid down the blade and disappeared. “That depends from whose cave they have emerged, young Evermere, and from how deep.” Mr. Byrch and he both lit their torches. They took positions near the horses, Mr. Byrch with his ax in one hand and Lord Lionsbury, his sword.

  “You heard his Lordship.” Mr. Kovoth unsheathed his blade. “Take your point on the compass, turn your backs to the other, and defend the ground before you if you ever wish to walk upon it again.”

  Rachel lit the last of five torches. Her heart raced in jagged bursts as she slid an arrow easily into her bow. Simon and Jack stood on each side, two hands on each of their swords.

  “Steady.” Lord Lionsbury raised his torch. “The fire should be enough to—”

  A flying swarm of screeching blackness descended and swirled around them. It wheeled and circled around the torches, sending the horses into near panic. They reared on their hind legs, the horses’ wild black eyes showing their whites as their manes and necks bucked and tossed. Ra
chel glimpsed the hairy, misshapen bodies of demons within the screeching blackness as it swept past. Their bulbous red eyes and twisted teeth were larger than any bat she had ever seen and their fiery, sulfurous stench smothered the fresh air, hanging heavy in the atmosphere.

  Esther swooped down out of the night into the swirling center, clawing and biting the necks of all in her path and sending the swarm into a chaotic frenzy.

  Lord Lionsbury and Mr. Byrch swept their torches at the screeching plague, setting fire to several. The flaming creatures scared the other attackers and they darted up toward the cover of the trees. Three of the demons broke from the swirling horde and dove toward Rachel and her friends.

  Rachel shot the arrow true and swift, striking one just below its scrawny neck. The creature fell dead at her feet. Jack shifted back onto his toes, agile and waiting for the precise moment. In a flash, he swung his blade, severing another creature in half. Simon leaped into the air with incredible force toward the third, his sword poised above his own head.

  Rachel’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him; he looked like a magnificent avenging angel about to smite his enemy.

  At the last moment, the creature pulled back out of reach. Simon sliced through the empty darkness. He landed on a rough patch of stony ground, lost his balance and stumbled onto the jagged earth. He fell to one knee and dropped his sword.

  Kovoth swung and struck the head off another unintimidated beast. “Behind you!”

  The hideous thing wheeled around the torches and now shot toward Simon’s unguarded back, its jaws first gaping wide and then snapping. The vicious sharp teeth clacked as they clamped together, a fearsome sound. Rachel aimed and pierced the creature through its cavernous red mouth. It careened and crashed into the fire, giant wings still flaying, and burst with a loud pop in the all-consuming flames.

  Simon raised himself to face Rachel. “Your kindness is only exceeded by your courage.” He picked up his sword and bowed before her in respect. “I owe you my life.”