“My family is dead, is it not so?” She asks.
“Ai,” replies Merlin somberly.
“And, everyone I knew is dead also.”
“There may yet be survivors from your town of Missalia. I know not. Whatever life you once had is over. You will have a new life in Lycenea and you will be cared for.”
“But I don’t want a new life. I want my old one.”
“I know, but there’s nothing to be done of that. Rest.” Merlin rocks her to sleep and intrudes on her mind with comforting imagery. She gives into his trickery.
When they approach the Siemen Valley, some inexplicable feeling pulls Merlin north to the base of the valley near a small town called Coiffen. “What draws you here, Merlin?”
“Not what Atticus but who?” They ride onto a road that connects Siemen Valley to the shores of the Boering Sea. The meandering path winds up the mountain, full of switchbacks, with a dense tree line that hugs the road. Atticus doesn’t say a word but points to a large fortwagon in complete disarray.
Its precarious position just over the hilltop indicates the driver was forced to pull over quickly or forced over. This theory gains further credibility upon closer inspection. It was riddled with bullets. The spokes of two of the wheels had been blown apart, splintering it to bits. A skeleton remains as one of the victims. His bones picked clean by scavengers.
The fortwagon was picked clean by looters of the precious metals and muelberry wood. The hinges on the doors, metal filings, brackets, and the screws were gone.
Shadow sticks his head up and sniffs the air and lets out the smallest of howls. Merlin pats him and nods. He picks up the subtle but palpable smell of a small human and his scent is less than two kilometers away. Shadow notes something else as well-a female wolf-hound.
Shadow looks at Merlin, clearly waiting for the cue. Despite their telepathic link, Shadow never oversteps his boundaries. “Find them, boy.” Shadow walks off the road and into the dense forest. Large coniferous pines trees dot the landscape and have a dense canopy of green leaves, red and blue lilacs, thick, sticky mossy undercoating, and dense shrubbery. It is cumbersome traversing through the dense canopy with their horses and they whine in protest.
The wolves, on the other hand, have no problem. When thick shrubbery stands in their way, they either jump it or sidestep it. The Brethren are forced to chop down the densest part of the foliage rather than force their horses through it.
Eventually, the dense forest gives way to a lush meadow with tall weed-grass several feet high. The meadow gives way to a hilly outcropping and a large plateau juts out of the landscape nearly a kilometer high. Shadow races up to the top in only a couple of minutes, impervious to the dangers that would have deterred the average hound. The other wolves follow but are more cautious than Shadow.
The Brethren follow at a slower rate, except for Atticus, who is chosen to stay with Sylvia. He does not feel inferior for having the baby-tending job. On the contrary, he considers it an honor. The climb would have been quite difficult for the ordinary man. Footholds and handholds are abundant on the rocky outcropping, but the threat of a slip would have been a considerable danger for any human living at the top, especially having to navigate it on a daily basis.
There is only one reason someone would make such a precarious position his home. It is his refuge. He feels threatened. Merlin feels the presence of a young male.
As the Brethren reach the top, they are confronted with an unknown resident. Pelt skins are hanging on a wireline and left to dry. The smell of freshly cooked meat is pervasive.
“Wait here,” cautions Merlin. “He may be uneasy if we all enter. This is his home after all.”
The Brethren nod. He walks into the cave with Shadow at his side.
Once they enter the cave, they can feel the warmth of the crackling fire and smell the badger meat. Merlin and Shadow’s stomach rumble. “Stop or I’ll run you clean through with my knife and kessel.” His canine companion begins to snarl the moment he makes the threat. She is a large, white wolf and fiercely protective of the boy, who is dwarfed by her size. Saliva drips off gleaming, razor-sharp teeth. Shadow growls in response. With a hand held up, Shadow sits down and becomes quiet. The wolf’s growl becomes less menacing and guttural after several seconds. She sits down too, still protective but less uneasy about the potential threat. Second-by-second the threat diminishes.
“I’ve no doubt you would try, boy. But we’re not here to harm you. We’re here to help you. May I approach?” Tears glisten in the boy’s eyes and he seems to be looking through them rather than at them. He is blind. The boy put down his weapons and approaches. The wolf follows closely behind.
Merlin bends down on one knee before the boy. “You want to leave this place.” It is not a question. “I sense that you are in grave danger by yourself.”
Tears stream down his face as he nods vigorously. “But I won’t leave my wolf. She must come. She saved my life.”
“On the contrary, we must insist she come. She is your kindred spirit and we would be honored to have her.”
Relief sweeps over Dante followed by insatiable curiosity. He may have been overstepping his boundaries, but he must know. He reaches for Merlin’s holster and confirms the presence of the ivory handled grips on the famous speed shooter. Merlin makes no move to intervene. His eyes dilate at the discovery. Just to be sure, he reaches for his sword sheath and finds it. “You’re Merlin,” he says.
“In flesh, blood and spirit. Guardian and kin to you now.”
Great emotion overtakes Dante. He is helpless to stop the torrential downpour of tears that run down his cheeks and the sobs that rack his body with every inhalation. Merlin picks him up. The newly acquainted Shadow and Camillia follow after them, but not before smelling each other’s butts. When the group arrives at the bottom of the plateau, Merlin puts Dante in the back of the fortwagon with Sylvia. Shadow and Camillia accompany them inside.
Sylvia grown accustomed to the presence of the massive beast and feels uneasy when he leaves her side. She hugs him fiercely as he returns. She has no idea what to make of the boy, though. Likewise, Dante is confused by the presence of Sylvia. What role does she play in this? For several hours, they sit quietly, saying nothing to each other, stealing glances at one another from time-to-time. Civility, however, is well ingrained in them and curiosity overtakes them.
Dante is the first one to speak. “My name is Dante.”
“I’m Sylvia.”
“Where is your family?”
Tears glisten in her eyes at the mention of her family. “Dead. Murdered. The lot of them. Where is yours?”
“Murdered. Camillia is the only family I have left.”
Sylvia picks up Dante’s hand and holds it. He makes no move to pull it away. As she looks into his eyes, she can see that he appears to look through her rather than at her. Maybe he is blind. “We are well met.”
“Ai,” says Dante.
Chapter 40: Rendezvous with a Spy
Once outside Outpost Seven, Daliance burns his clothes and changes into something non-descript, a charcoal-grey leather, tasseled jacket, light chambray shirt and tan leather chaps over loose cotton, full length briefs. He tops off his look with a brown felt, ponchero hat. He could have passed for a rancher, a butcher, a trader, a local tyrant’s henchmen or a journeyman goldsmith.
Bixby is another undistinguished mid-sized town among many outside the borders of Visi-Galia. Daliance tethers his horses and walk into Cutler’s Saloon, one of the many saloon/brothels are situated along Main Street. It is the perfect place to disappear and start over.
The smell of oil leather, burger grease, pungent beer, whore perfume, and sweat is pervasive. It hits him the moment he steps in through the large oak doors. Two large ruffians eye him curiously. He tips his hat at them and ventures through the labyrinth of tables hosting an array of hard, menacing looking card sharks. It is not uncommon for a punch to be thrown in the middle of a game.
; Several attractive waitresses in blue, sequined dresses serve the men copious amounts of alcohol and food. Most of them double as whores, enticing generous winners into their bedchambers.
Daliance glances longingly at them only for a moment. Pleasures will come later, but not here. This is business. And duty.
He walks further to the back, where it is dimly lit. Shoddy, beer stained curtains cover booths in the back, where men not inclined or unable to pay for the full-service bedchamber receive table dances. And for a little more, a hand job.
Among these booths are several small tables. Daliance approaches one of them. A man dressed very much like himself is playing solo-spaid and drinking a fine brandy-wine.
He approaches the table. “Join you for a game, Sai?”
Without looking up, Renault holds up his hand in a waiting gesture. “You may sit, Daliance.” He looks up at him. Daliance sits down.
“Using my name already? Is that prudent?”
“You’re aware I am a telepath?” He asks.
Daliance nods. “Ai. Am indeed, but it seems risky nonetheless. I was considerably less casual with my last contact.”
“You may trust me, Sai. I scoped out this place well beforehand. We are perfectly safe here. Relax.” He extends his forearm. Daliance takes it and they shake. “My name is Renault.”
“Your reputation precedes you Sai. I’ve heard about your exploits. Some might venture to say atrocities.”
Renault smiles wolfishly. “Seems you have heard about me.” He pauses and looks at Daliance curiously. “I’ve heard of you as well. No doubt you’ve read the papers?”
Daliance nods. “Ai. I have indeed. Nearly nine thousand men wiped off the face of the earth.”
“Yes, nine thousand. Also, nine thousand men who intruded into our lands, butchered our countrymen and raped our women. All met a most deserved fate.”
Daliance smiles with a pained expression. “Just keep telling yourself that so you can go to sleep every night.”
“I sleep just fine every night.”
“I’m sure you do.”
Renault takes a drag off his cigar and continues to look at Daliance, trying to read him without being intrusive and peering into his mind. “Tell me Daliance, how did it feel to slaughter that sadistic monster, Piedmont?”
Daliance looks at him as if he had just slapped him. “I felt nothing, only satisfaction at having completed part of my mission.”
Renault shakes his head. “That’s too bad.”
“I’m not like you, Renault. I don’t kill for pleasure. I kill because I must and because it’s my duty.”
Renault smiles devilishly. “I do it for both. The pleasure and the duty. But mostly, out of duty. You find something wrong with a man enjoying his work?”
Daliance shakes his head in disgust. “You find this situation amusing, Sai? My point of contact, Dalton Tenamus, died days before. I barely completed my mission and had to gun down a room full of armed soldiers. I nearly lost my fucking life and failed in my mission.”
“But you didn’t,” points out Renault.
“No, I didn’t.”
“You improvised and you succeeded. There is nothing anyone could have done to preclude the death of Dalton. We can only move forward with our mission. At all costs. We were successful in our campaign and we prevailed. Never forget that. Gilleon owes us a debt of gratitude.”
“One never to be repaid.”
Renault shakes his head. “This is our duty, Brother.”
Daliance nods his head. “Of course. Let us drink.”
Renault pours him a drink. Daliance takes it and toasts to Renault. “To the Brotherhood and to my country. A country I fear I will never see again. The country that has written me off as a dead, traitor. And yet, I serve it and serve it well.”
Renault looks indignant. “Do not forget the face of the Merlin. Did he not suffer just as much? You wanted to be knight. This is how we serve as knight.”
“Perhaps my spirit would be rekindled if I could look on the face of the Merlin. To have him give me a thankee would mean all the world to me. You ken?”
“You know that’s not possible. Not at this juncture, Brother. Perhaps someday.”
“Always someday,” says Daliance bitterly.
Renault sighs. “Your lamentations are my own. I feel your pain, but this is what we do. It is who we are. Accept it.”
Daliance pours himself another drink and tosses it back. He laughs. “Ai. Cry pardon, Brother. Never mind me. I’m just venting. Forget it.”
Renault takes out his saddlebag and removes a knapsack filled with gold pence and hands it to Daliance. He takes out another set of papers and puts them inside a felt folder. “Takes these. It is your new identity. You’ll find the pertinent details. And, this is your money - one thousand gold pence. You may count it, if you wish.”
Daliance shakes his head. “I trust you.”
“Count it,” says Renault.
“If you wish.” Daliance counts out the money. “All here.”
“Good. Now, tell me, Daliance. Did you take care of everything? Everyone? No loose ends to speak of?”
Daliance walks out of the main hall of Outpost Seven and is greeted with a deluge of rain. He looks around for any fresh sign of tracks and sees them. They are headed out to the dilapidated barn. He follows them and walks in to the barn. The fool did not bother to take off his shoes to avoid detection. He came to the one place that would give him away.
Daliance walks up the loft and sees several bales of hay. A large bale hook is noticeably absent. He hears rustling behind him, telegraphing his every move. He owed it to the kid. He is brave, but Daliance is well prepared.
He steps to the side, pivots, and draws his sword. In a powerful arc, he swings his sword catches the hook and sends it flying through the air. Ludepepper gets his hands up in defense. He is now at Daliance’ mercy.
He gets on his knees in a pathetic beseeching manner. “Please, Sai!” He cries, “Please!”
“Get up boy! Don’t die like a coward.”
Ludepepper slowly gets up, while tears begin to stream down his face. The echo of the gun blast is deafening inside the barn.
“Well?” questions Renault.
Daliance shakes his head. “No loose ends, Brother. Mark words. There are no loose ends.”
Renault nods. “That is well, Brother.” He extends his forearm. Daliance takes it. “Godspeed, Brother.”
“Godspeed,” says Daliance.
Daliance leaves the bar and walks out to his horses. Ludepepper sees him coming, untethers his horses, and waves at him like an imbecile. Daliance shakes his head. He approaches him, still shaking his head as he looks at Ludepepper.
“I must teach you how to be a little more inconspicuous, Sai.”
Ludepepper nods. “Ai. What does inconspicuous mean, Sai?”
“It means less obvious. And from now on, you will have to be called something else. How does Petra suit you?”
“I like Petra. Are you always to call me that?”
“Me and everyone else from this day forward. Ludepepper is no longer your name.” He takes him by the shirt and looks him in the eye in order to impart the important message on him. “You understand your old life is over. I spared your life, boy. Don’t make me regret it. You ken?”
Ludepepper nods his head vigorously. “Ai, Sai. Whatever you say. Didn’t have much of a life anyway. I’m an orphan and have no family.”
“Then you’re in good company. From now on, Petra, you’ll be my manservant.”
“What’s a manservant?”
“It means you will work for me. Fetch my meals, tether my horses and so forth. In return, I’ll give you a wage and place to live. And most importantly, protection. You ken?”
Petra’s face lights up and he smiles from ear to ear. “I would like that very much Sai.”
Dale Walsh and his manservant Petra gallop off towards the township of Mullen along the eastern edge of the city state
s of Kent.
Continue
The Brotherhood of Merlin: Book Two - Lycenea
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The Brotherhood of Merlin series
Table of Contents
Dedication. 4
Chapter 1: Blissful Homecoming. 5
Chapter 2: Fallen Angel falls Further. 9
Chapter 3: Time to Strike. 12
Chapter 4: Valiant Neighbors. 14
Chapter 5: The Retired General vs. Assassins. 17
Chapter 6: An Act of Subterfuge. 20
Chapter 7: Escape. 28
Chapter 8: The White Wolf 31
Chapter 9: Survival 36
Chapter 10: Butchery in Missalia. 41
Part 2: The Brotherhood. 44
Chapter 11: Meet the Legend. 44
Chapter 12: Guidance from Beloved Mentor. 49
The Brotherhood of Merlin Page 31