by Troy A Hill
“Your lady wife is skilled with the blade. She has a natural talent. But before you know it, she’ll have a little one to look after, and she won’t need to spend her time with me.” I doubted it would be easy to get her to stop training, “I will slow her pace as needed. I’ll rely on Rhian and Gwen to tell me when Enid needs that.”
“Will carrying a child affect her practice?” He shook his head again. “I mean, practice won’t harm her when she is with child, will it? Mother was always so delicate when she was pregnant. Seren barely survived the birth. We were lucky that Lady Gwen was there to take command of the herb women. They had no remedy and said mother was bleeding too much to live. But, with Gwen’s help, both she and Seren lived.”
I understood what bothered him.
“I will make adjustments as needed, should that occur. Gwen will tell me what limits to set.” I said. “But, I suspect the quiet of the meditations, and the movement will help her keep her strength and energy throughout the pregnancy.”
“This is her week, she says,” Cadoc looked up, and smiled. “She should know in the next few days, if…” He spun his knife again. Nervous energy. He stood and paced, flipping his knife end over end as he walked. Step, catch, step, toss.
He would wear himself out with worry while he was out here. Too much time to ponder, think and wonder while in the saddle. He needed to keep his mind off home if possible. Perhaps it was good he got to ride these days instead of sitting at the keep, pacing and waiting for news. I recalled Rhian’s demeanour. Although stern, and commanding, I could see her energy lurking under the surface. She’d be a pacer, just like her son. Bleddyn kept busy and channelled his energy slowly. But with Cadoc, and probably with Rhian, they’d have a lot energy to burn.
“Perhaps tonight, before we sleep, you can walk some blade meditations with me,” I suggested. “We don’t have practice swords with us for actual sparring, but meditations may help you focus on yourself and your own body instead of hers.”
Cadoc thought for a second then nodded. Bleddyn whistled from below before the young lord could reply. Bleddyn pointed to the end of the valley where two riders approached at a trot.
“Good,” Cadoc said. “Gerallt and Siors approach.”
24
Meditations
An hour later, Bleddyn let out a whistle and pointed.
Damn. Ahead of us lay another area of blight. Ovals of dead vegetation on a hilltop. One likely to have empty graves. Their long dead occupants pulled away by magic. Except for one. One grave left undisturbed. One silent dead sentinel.
But why?
Gwen and I knelt at the edge of the ovals. The graves were empty. As we expected. I traded looks with Bleddyn. He rubbed his moustache in thought. Neither of us knew what to make of yet another emptied ancient graveyard.
“Father,” Cadoc called. He, Siors and Rhys scouted the area. Gerallt and Afon tended to our mounts at another stream. They hadn’t gone far from the other men when they found the tracks.
“Looks like several men on horseback, and a good score on foot,” Bleddyn said. The tracks were in a shallow depression. Probably a runoff pool for when the creek flooded. Britannia wasn’t the driest land.
“But,” Cadoc said, and used a narrow stick to point into the muddy section. Bleddyn grunted and stepped closer, then squatted to get a better look.
“Bones,” he said. His hand hovered just above the print. Not willing to touch it. But, seeking. Any answer. “The boot has decayed, see the ragged edges. I see a normal heel, then toes. Or toe bones. Why are they still together?” He pulled his hand up and pinched his moustache again.
“Reads like a tale of old the bards tell,” Rhys said. His brown eyes had a haunted look to them. Both hands gripped his bow tight. Knuckles white.
Cadoc moved his stick.
“Another print here,” he moved it again, “and here, and here…” He reached the end of the muddy patch. “The dead are walking, father.”
“These are only a day or two old,” Siors added. “We haven’t had rain the last few days, or there’d be no prints to find.”
Bleddyn rubbed the rough beard coming in on his chin. “Head out and see if you find any more. If they continue on the same direction as these print lead, they were headed toward the old Roman fort.” He shook his head and waved the men on. Rhys and Siors exchanged a quick glance. Siors, taller and thinner than Rhys by a hand, bobbed his head toward Lord Penllyn. But Rhys swallowed hard. That spooked look hadn’t left his eyes.
“The men are nervous,” Bleddyn said. His voice was quiet, just loud enough for me.
“I’m nervous,” I said.
“Have you ever seen the dead walk?”
“No… Rhian did tell you of my nature?” I confirmed. The others were far enough away I wasn’t worried that my whisper would carry.
"She did," he looked puzzled, then smiled. “You’re here, and I ask about the dead walking… I hadn’t made the connection,” he grinned. “Perhaps we’ll have to draft your Witch Hunter friends to help us track whoever is raising the dead…”
“Why are those Witch Hunters my friends?” I poked his side with my fist.
He laughed. We stood and watched the men follow the muddy path. Gwen came and joined us. “No different from the others,” she said.
Cadoc wandered back toward us and shook his head. “Nothing beyond the gully. It goes to grass after that.”
“We’re almost to Mechain,” Bleddyn said, with a glance toward the south. “Let’s find a place to camp. We’ll head south in the morning and see if we meet up with the Mechain hunting party.”
The men made camp far from the old graves, and away from the area where the prints of the dead were. The camp was near a sloped and rocky area. There were also several copses of trees with soft loam underneath. The soft earth was where they set the tents. Cadoc eyed one of the jagged outcroppings on the hill face.
“Ruadh would be up that cliff in a shake of a lamb’s tail,” he said. “Find a rock wall, he and Iolo will test handholds. They’re as bad as father and caves.” He grinned, then went to help the men set up tents. I headed out to gather firewood. By the time I came back with my second armload, Gwen was humming while she added herbs to the cook pot. The men were spreading their cloaks by the fire, ready to settle in.
Cadoc, however, was back to his nervous pacing.
I planted myself in front of him. “Time for sword mediations.” I wanted to get him to concentrate on himself, instead of Enid. “Anyone else want to join in?” I asked the others. Afon rose. His movements were fluid, much like Emlyn.
We found a flat spot in the grass, where we had room to move. I kept Emlyn’s practice field etiquette intact. I drew Soul and saluted Cadoc and Afon. They returned it and followed my lead as I started with the first level meditations. I let my mind drift, and we fell into the routine motions. Even though these were simple movements, Soul felt almost alive in my grip. I was very fond of the name of my blade. Aemi had chosen well.
My memories drifted as we moved through the dance. Aemi and I spent many, many years together off and on through our centuries. He knew me better than any other person.
“You are the joy of my life,” he said, often, as we lay in bed, just before the sun rose. “My Maria… My Marianna… you have my heart and soul.” He’d kiss me, and we’d lay together as we allowed ourselves to die again, and sink into our undead slumber for another day. Two souls, locked together until the sun slid below the horizon again, when we could return to life.
The two men walked the mediations with me. I shook my mind from the memories of Aemi, and watched them. Afon danced them with grace and skill. Cadoc, however, missed a few motions, or jerked his sword back on line when he stopped concentrating. I could tell he had learned them under Emlyn, but his mind wasn’t on the drills.
We repeated the third set, and I stood right in front of the young lord as I moved through the routine. I maintained eye contact and got him to relax. He let the motion
s of the dance take over. His mind let go of his worry as the music inherent in the dance took control of his body.
Gwen’s thoughts came into my meditation.
“Dearest, I hate to interrupt...”
Mental speech with her was not an interruption. Now that I had Cadoc relaxed and flowing through the mediations, I sped up and moved us into the fourth set.
“Yes?”
“I sense Ruadh heading toward us,” she sent.
“How do you know it’s him?”
“I know what his presence feels like. We’ve been friends for many years,” she said. “He is close enough that I sensed him once I looked for predators in the area.”
“How long till he gets here?” I kept moving through the meditations as we conversed.
“Probably near sundown. Half an hour?”
I continued to lead the sword meditations until the sky turned golden. We’d only have an hour until dark. Cadoc finally relaxed in the dance, and moved with a grace to rival Afon. I finished the set, then gave them a salute with Soul. They both returned it.
“Thank you milady Mair,” Cadoc said. “That has helped my mind.”
“If only we had brought practice blades,” Afon said. “I could use a good thrashing on the field, and Lord Emlyn isn’t here to teach me.”
“Perhaps when we return to Caer Penllyn,” I said with a chuckle. “Unless you’d prefer Emlyn to administer your thrashing?”
“Any practice is good practice,” Afon said with a grin. “I don’t care who teaches me. Any day I learn something to keep me alive longer in a real battle is a good day. Live by the sword…”
“Die by the sword!” Gerallt and Siors yelled from the campfire. The rest of us, even Cadoc, laughed.
“Looks like you two get clean up duty, since you’re the last to eat,” Gerallt said when Cadoc ladled soup into a bowl. The other dishes were piled by the fire.
“Live by the dishrag…” Cadoc said and grinned.
“I won’t be dying by no dishrag,” Afon groaned as he too filled a bowl. “But it is my turn for dish duty.”
“Anyone care to stretch their legs before the sun goes down?” Bleddyn asked. Rhys stood. He seemed young for a guardsman. But, according to Emlyn, he was among Penllyn’s best bowman.
“I can use exercise,” he said, but left his bow behind. A sword hung from his baldric, and a knife on his belt. Bleddyn wore the same wide Celtic style blade on his own belt.
“Siors and I will stay and make sure the trainees get the dishes done right,” Gerallt said and leaned back against a few of the packs.
Gwen passed me a bowl with a small amount of soup in it. I smiled at her and cocked my head to the opposite direction of where Bleddyn and Rhys headed. Some alone time with her sounded like a good plan. We hadn’t been alone for a while. And, she’d be eating whatever was in the bowl. Soup wasn’t part of my diet.
As we walked, I felt my connection to the goddess humming, bringing me energy. If the hum were a real sound instead of a magical one, it would be loud from the energy coursing along it. The meditations, and my exposure to the sunlight all day pushed me to the edge of where I might have to pull blood energy. Once the sun set I wouldn’t need to pull power from The Lady.
Gwen found a secluded spot, with a fallen log we could sit on. Sitting sounded good. Night would come soon enough. I was a child of the night, and that time was mine. My energy would return.
The goddess helped with that. I could walk, and even dance the meditations. But I was human-like in my speed and stamina. And I overdid helping Cadoc get his mind off Enid. Two days of riding in the sun, instead of hiding in the shade of the Caer Penllyn’s keep, was taxing. Dancing the meditations with he and Afon had taken to the point where I needed to rest and wait for night to come. A little longer and my stamina would recover.
But, alone time with Gwen sounded good too. I found the energy for a short walk with her. We could wait here for the sun to disappear, and my connection with the night to rekindle my strength.
Gwen must have sensed my fatigue. She hurried to spread a blanket across the fallen log. I leaned into her for a kiss before we sat. Soon, that damned sun would be down.
“GUARDS! TO ME!” Bleddyn’s panicked cry rang out from around the hill.
25
Blood
I ran, Soul in my hand.
The sounds of battle echoed from a slit in the rocky section of the hillside Snarls and another anguished cry of pain.
Cadoc was closer. With the sun still in the sky, I didn’t have my full undead speed yet. He passed into the cave first. I was a few steps behind him and caught the scent of blood. A lot of blood, thick and sweet in the air. Growls, as though a great beast of some sort was in the cave with us. Verpa Dei! A beast had found us. Or, rather Bleddyn and his infatuation with caves had found the creature.
Cadoc’s back blocked my view, but his blade was out. It glowed with The Lady’s power. The soft white light fell on a gruesome scene. Rhys was down. The glow of Cadoc’s sword lit up the guard’s face for an instant as I charged in. Rhys’ eyes stared lifeless at me. His throat was ripped open. There was so much blood on him and pooling on the cave floor, He was dead.
Cadoc shifted a step to the left. Bleddyn, sword out, tried to block a blow from the monster. Gods! That thing was at least a head taller than Cadoc. A bear. No. I sensed the same power I had when I first met Ruadh. A shifter. But he didn’t smell like Ruadh.
But I was too far away. The shifter slashed at Bleddyn.
Bleddyn gripped his sword with both hands tried to parry. But the other great clawed paw, with long, almost human fingers slashed him across the chest. Bleddyn cried out. Anguish and agony.
Cadoc, slashed in with his sword, but slipped on Rhys’ blood. The creature’s other paw darted down and raked Bleddyn again. One of the creature’s legs shot forward and kicked Lord Penllyn across the chamber.
“NO!” Cadoc bellowed and lunged. The shifter, half-bear, half-man swiped him. Both twisted away from the other with no contact. Cadoc stood near Rhys, but had backed the creature up enough I could get into the fray. I hoped this wasn’t Ruadh. I had never seen him in his transition form.
Fur covered this creature’s face, and its long snout. Long massive arms which ended in thick, clawed fingers swiped out. Cadoc slashed with his glowing sword into the beast. The creature’s rounded head, fur covered head with a long snout snapped at the young lord, who dodged the attacks.
Cadoc slashed again and scored a minor slice on the creature’s arm. The glowing sword enraged the beast. It snarled and lunged. I darted in with Soul, but the creature shifted out of the way. Gods, it was fast. And the damn sun was still up. I needed my undead speed. I forgot not to breathe and the smell of Rhys’ and Bleddyn’s blood hung thick against the damp odour of the cave. That was unfortunate. My demon woke and sang in the back of my mind. Blood. I had to take a second to concentrate and push that damn demon back into her cage. But, that gave the creature the edge it needed.
A hairy arm slammed into the young lord. The blow knocked him into the rocky wall. Cadoc fell to his knees, stunned from both the blow. The beast took a step closer, its arm raised for a death blow. Cadoc struggled to his feet as the great paw flashed, its claws bare in the light of the sword. Cadoc saw the danger and parried the blow. Claws stopped a finger’s length from his face. The slice of the white light and metal blade cut into the creature’s paw. It jerked that paw back and growled with pain. What Cadoc didn’t see was the other clawed hand strike out toward his open side.
There was one chance to stop it. I pulled energy from my demon for the speed I needed. Cadoc would not die if I could prevent it. I sped with preternatural speed and get in front of the blow. Soul caught one set of claws. But that damned beast was as fast as I was. Its paw closed on my blade and twisted. I jerked my blade down. Damn, I wish I had Onion Breath’s silver blade. A slice from a normal blade wouldn’t hurt it for long. The slice I made in its paw had already hea
led.
Stupid. I stopped thinking about my opponent. That second was all it needed. The creature’s other paw swiped and ripped across my belly. Crap! Damn! Verpa Dei! That hurt as bad as silver blades. They would take as long to heal. Just like the cuts I had suffered under Onion Breath. The magic that made a shifter, made its claws like silver. They hurt and would take a lot of blood energy to heal. Damn that shifter. He towered over Cadoc and I. Cadoc’s sword still glowed, but the young lord was dazed. This fight was up to me.
I needed to draw from my blood magic to get the speed and strength to defeat it. But the sun was still in the sky. If I tapped my demon again, I’d exhaust my blood energy. With the gashes in my side, I didn’t want to pull from my demon until after the sun went down. My undead body was using energy from the demon to heal those gashes. If I tapped more energy for speed and strength, my demon would scream for blood again. And we were in a cave filled with blood. Even when I didn’t breath, the odour of it was still in my nose.
My demon wasn’t quiet anymore. She was active. I knew my eyes were shifting red again. The redder they got, the more control my demon, my hunger had.
I swallowed. I had to do it. I didn’t have a choice. The creature lunged at me. I pulled blood energy to get speed and block both swipes.
I decided too late. The damned creature got a lucky strike in, and raked me again, this time on my off-hand side. I spun away, and tried to block out the pain. The new wounds, and the speed I had drawn from my undead nature, awakened my thirst. The stench of the blood in the cavern made my demon scream in thirst.
Another claw flashed in the light from Cadoc’s sword. I flinched and spun out of the creature’s reach. A long, furry arm pulled Cadoc upright, the meaty paw wrapped around his wrist to neutralise Cadoc’s sword arm. The other paw gripped Cadoc’s neck. Its claws a hair’s breadth from his bare neck.