by C S Vass
He turned and walked away.
“Come on, Yaura. Castle Unduyo awaits!”
It wasn’t long before they heard Robert huffing and puffing behind them.
Their journey grew more tense after that. Despite Godwin and Yaura making light of it, they were traveling to a highly dangerous part of the world. Godwin was taking extra care with his protective wards, and Yaura made a point to sharpen her blade every night. Robert of course was quick to notice all of this and grew more wide-eyed every single night.
One evening a grim silence fell among them when the Serpent appeared in the sky. Its signature bright blue star at the eye always unsettled Godwin, making him feel as if it could penetrate his mind from the heavens above. He sat propped against a black pine tree while Yaura and Robert slept. Soon they would be at the foot of Jagjaw and in the mouth of Killer’s Rest. It would be the most dangerous part of the journey, but also the shortest. They would just have to move quickly and trust everything would be fine.
His dreams were restless that night. As he drifted off into an uneasy sleep he saw an explosion. Chaos in Saebyl. There were sun warriors flooding the city, killing everything that moved. The resistance was minimal. Lord Wenjen’s troops had not entered the city for some reason, and the Tarsurians were so unhindered that they actually began constructing scaffolds. Bodies hung on every major street in Saebyl that night.
Godwin was unbothered. Men fled when they saw his legendary obsidian blade, its magic runes glowing like the eyes of a demon. But he wasn’t Godwin of Brentos. He was something more. Odruri. The Darksword. Enemies fell at his feet everywhere he went. He moved freely, unworried by the number of opponents he might have to face.
Blood flooded the streets of Saebyl. In his dream the Odruri killed man after man.
A crash of lightning sent Godwin bolting upright, his sword halfway out of its sheath. Half-asleep he had almost expected the blade to glow with red runes. He was relieved to see it was just ordinary steel. Robert had slept through the noise, but on the other side of the campfire Yaura stared at him with wide hazel eyes.
The next day they continued on the path. Robert seemed to have resigned himself to his fate. The looming horror that was Jagjaw grew closer, but there were still no hordes of rampaging demons rushing down its chipped slopes to consume their flesh so he was starting to get used to it.
“In case you ever need to know,” Yaura said to Robert, “if you take that path straight through Jagjaw, it’s the safest route through the mountains. It’s a central road maintained partially by dwarves and partially by ogres. Demons don’t often play on it, and those that do are quickly killed.”
Robert looked at the mountain path like he would rather crawl into the open mouth of a basilisk, but simply nodded and thanked her for the information.
They found the bodies in the forest.
Two young women, ripped apart in horrific ways. Robert immediately emptied the contents of his stomach as soon as he saw them, but Godwin and Yaura both felt compelled to investigate further.
“Nothing’s been consumed,” Yaura said. “That’s concerning.”
“A message then?” Godwin wondered. “Made by humans?”
“Not necessarily. There’s said to be eloko living in this region.”
“An eloko would have eaten them, wouldn’t it?”
“Possibly, but they’re vengeful little fuckers. If the girls’ parents or lovers pissed one off, it might do something like this.”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s unlikely, I suppose.”
“Look at the bloating. They’ve both been drowned, and dried. They were tampered with afterwards.”
“By the gods, can you stop playing around with the dead!” Robert shouted. He was a pale shade of green. “What kind of sick creature kills but doesn’t consume?”
“Usually man,” Yaura said.
“It’s an ill omen is what it is,” Robert went on, talking more to himself than to either of the Shigata.
“Well, it’s hardly worth investigating if nobody is going to pay us to do so,” Godwin said.
“Honestly,” Yaura rolled her eyes. “This is why the Shigata have a bad reputation.”
“This is?”
“Oh, shut up.”
“My gods, their faces,” Robert moaned. “The poor girls.”
He was right to be disgusted, Godwin thought. The girls were in their late teens but the look of absolute pain and terror they expressed somehow made them seem even younger. Both of their rib cages had been cracked wide open, though nothing on the inside was touched.
“I suppose we’ll have to bury them,” Yaura said.
“Do we have time for that?” Godwin asked.
“We don’t have the time not to do it. Now that we’ve gotten this close if we leave without burying them, their spirits might latch onto us.”
Godwin nodded. “Good point. But the ground is far too hard for a burial here even if we did have a shovel.”
“Pyre?”
“Pyre,” he agreed.
They went about collecting the wood. They wouldn’t need much of it. The girls were small for their age. Their wrists and ankles led Godwin to believe that they were likely undersized from malnutrition. Within two hours they had built a pyre made from ten-thousand tiny, dry branches and carefully placed the bodies on top.
“Get away from there!”
The voice was high and shrill. A voice that attempted to mask the fear that was buried within it.
“Who’s there?” Godwin called. From the woods emerged a group of peasants. Their clothes were woefully inadequate for the cold that they were in, and other than a torch held by the man who shouted they appeared to be unarmed.
“We don’t need no outsiders interfering with our affairs,” the man with the torch said. He wore a coif that in Godwin’s opinion made him look like an arsehole. “Why don’t you go back to whatever hole you’ve crawled out of and leave us folk be?”
Godwin sized up the approaching villagers the way a wolf might size up a group of squirrels that bared their teeth. “You want to tell me what exactly it is that’s going on here, friends?”
“I’m not your bloody friend, outsider,” the man with the coif said. His eyes were strangled by fear, but he was determined to put up a brave front. “Now for the last time, beat it!”
Realizing that negotiations were going nowhere, Godwin marched up to the men. He was a foot taller than the tallest of them. In an instant he seized the torch and pushed the one who carried it onto the snowy ground.
“Thanks for saving me the trouble,” he said. He turned and threw the torch onto the pyre, which erupted in a spectacular blaze of light. The peasants moaned and sunk to their knees as they watched the fire.
“You’ve done it now,” the man on the ground shouted.
Yaura pushed past Godwin. “Honestly,” she said to him. “Does it make you feel good to beat up starving peasants?”
Godwin didn’t give an inch. “If they’re the kind of starving peasants who murder little girls, then yes.”
“Tell us what happened here,” Yaura commanded, turning away from Godwin. “Why were these girls killed?”
“We can’t tell you that,” said the man in the coif as he rose to his feet. “You’re not one of us. It’s not your concern.”
“See this?” Yaura asked. She extended her thrygta-pommel sword. The peasants eyes grew wide when they saw the dragon-in-chains. “Know what this means? It means I’m making it my concern. Now tell me what happened.”
“My gods,” the coifed peasant said.
“That’s what I thought,” Yaura said smugly.
“Have our prayers been answered? Shigata? Here?”
“Well,” Robert said quietly to Godwin. “I guess the Shigata do still earn some respect in the West. You had me thinking people cursed the ground you tread on.”
Godwin huffed. “Everyone loves a Shigata when they need one. It means they’re desperate, and probably fo
r good reason.” Robert’s smile vanished.
“Please, lady Shigata,” the peasant went on. “Come with us to our village. We’ll tell you all we know. There’s a terrible demon that plagues us. We’re done for sure without your help.”
Yaura smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere.
“Wait a minute,” Godwin said. “We don’t have time for detours, and forgive me for being blunt, but I doubt you can afford us.”
Yaura hit him. “You’ve been complaining about the lack of demon contracts for months and when one falls into our lap you’re ready to walk away? For shame.”
“We’re not charity workers, Yaura.”
“Then we’ll take the demon’s head and sell it to a lord who will sell it to the King. Or bring it to Unduyo and sell it to the Sages, who will do the same but for a better price.”
Godwin made a grumbling sound.
“I wouldn’t mind a roof over my head for a night, and the safety of being in a village,” Robert put in. “Especially if there’s a demon lurking in the woods.” He glanced nervously to the west. The sun was setting and pink fingers of light snaked through the tall trees.
“We can pay you!” the coifed man said. “I swear it. We’ll pull together all our riches and give you everything we have if you just get rid of the blasted beast.”
“I suppose it can’t hurt to hear them out,” Godwin said.
The walk to the village was an odd one. The coifed man—Edwin, as he introduced himself—and his brother Altwen walked with Robert and the two Shigata while the other ten villagers trailed a good distance behind, whispering nervously.
“What village are we going to?” Yaura asked the brothers.
“We have no name,” Edwin said.
“We prefer to remain anonymous,” Altwen agreed.
“No lords and no tax, is that right?” Godwin asked. They nodded in agreement. “A fine plan though it seems to fail to consider the necessities of life in the wilderness. Having some knights to call on is generally helpful in situations like this.”
“Begging your pardon, Master Shigata, but the men with swords tend to be worse demons than the demons. I don’t mean you of course. The knights and such, if you understand me.”
“I do,” Godwin said. “That doesn’t change the fact that there’s a horror somewhere in these woods, and you’ve no obvious way to stop it save luck. Luck that we were walking by. Luck that we decided to stop and burn the bodies so you could catch up to us. Luck that we agreed to hear you out.”
“Luck is a fine thing,” Altwen agreed as if Godwin were not criticizing him.
“It won’t be any trouble,” Robert said brightly. “This is what you do, isn’t it Godwin? You’ll brew up some magical whoo-whoo with your master alchemy abilities, put the beast in its place, and we can all be on our merry way.”
Godwin did not fail to notice Edwin and Altwen exchange a strange look when Robert mentioned alchemy.
“For the last time, I’m not an alchemist,” he grumbled. “And as for you two,” he said, turning towards Edwin and Altwen. “We haven’t agreed to take any contract from you yet. I have a bad taste in my mouth from what we saw back there. If I were you, I would be sure to speak honestly and not hold anything back. That is, if you don’t want this to end badly.”
As he spoke he heard a rush of whispers and jitters from the villagers behind them. He turned to scowl at them, and they simply shrunk closer together and continued to whisper excitedly.
“We have no secrets, Master Shigata,” Edwin said. “We just don’t dare speak out in the woods. It’s not safe.”
“No, it certainly isn’t,” Godwin agreed.
Chapter 16
The village, if you could call it that, was bleak and dreary. Edwin and Altwen had led them to a large grove with ten odd houses clustered about. Candles glowed in the windows and Godwin saw the faces of children disappear behind drapes as they entered. A light rain was falling by the time they arrived, and the temperature felt as though it had risen considerably.
“You can stay at the inn as long as you’re here,” Edwin said. “Free of charge, master Shigata.” Something about the place was putting Godwin in a foul mood the instant he saw it.
“What’s the name of this inn?” Yaura asked.
“No name,” Altwen said.
“Just like the town,” Godwin mumbled. “The Nowhere Inn of Village Nowhere. Well, let’s see it then.”
The building looked rather small for an inn, and they soon realized why. It wasn’t an inn at all but simply some dead woman’s home that had never been properly sorted out. They stepped inside where the air was dank and musty. Piles of crates, scrolls, bottles, jugs, and more plates, cups, and silverware than the village could use in a lifetime if they never scrubbed a dish clean for the rest of their lives were stacked in every inch of the house.
“Looks a bit nicer when we let the sun in,” Edwin said as he pulled back a curtain. As he touched the fabric, a massive cloud of dust exploded from it and a thousand resting gnats were blown into a frenzy around his head. Coughing, he backed away quickly. “Just needs a bit of cleaning, I suppose.”
“All right,” Godwin said. “Enough puttering around. I want to know who’s responsible for the deaths of those girls, and I want to know now. Somebody better start talking if you know what’s good for you.”
“Better to have the conversation over a meal, master Shigata, if that’s right by you.”
Godwin started to grumble in protest but Yaura placed a hand on his arm. “There’s nothing wrong with a free meal before we decide what to do,” she said.
The brothers cleared off the thousand random items from the dining room table. The room was dusty as hell and smelled like sour cabbage. They invited the guests to sit down while they set about assembling a quick dinner. The sun had set by then, and they heard howling off in the distance.
“Bloody wolves,” Edwin cursed.
“Be thankful they’re there,” Yaura said. “It’s when the wolves are scared to come by that you really have a problem.”
The brothers set out a meal of fishy broth with forest mushrooms. It was thin and terrible, but Godwin was relieved when they at least had the decency to bring out a keg of beer from the basement. That was also thin and terrible, but at least the alcohol would help him forget the other unpleasantries. When the dirty dishes were cleared and a small fire was lit in the hearth, the two brothers sat down with glowing tobacco pipes and began to speak.
“We thank you for coming, master Shigata,” Altwen said. “Now, we’ll get to the heart of the matter.”
“Who killed the girls?” Godwin asked roughly. The tobacco smoke was making his nose tingle.
“A rusalka.”
“Good thing we avoided Ice Bay to stay out of the way of those rusalka,” Robert mumbled.
“Quiet you,” Godwin said to Robert. Then, turning to the brothers, “That’s nonsense. Rusalka don’t mutilate their victims like that. They only drown them.”
“Rusalkas are terrible demons. They can do all manner of devilry, if you understand me, sir.”
“No, we don’t understand you!” Yaura burst out. “And for the record there’s more than one ‘master Shigata,’ here if it pleases you! Now tell us the truth about why those bloody girls were butchered!”
Godwin nodded approvingly. He had been wondering when Yaura’s patience would run out.
“Please, we meant no offense,” Edwin said.
“Forgive us lady Shigata,” Altwen said. “No disrespect was intended. We just didn’t know women folk could be Shigata. We ain’t used to it is all. As for the the girls, let us explain.”
“You see,” Edwin picked up. “The rusalka showed up about a month ago. It’s killed several of our people already. We were panicked. There’s not many of us, and we can’t afford to lose the few that we have. Well, those two girls were the latest victims. The rusalka drowned the two of them.”
Yaura’s eyes narrowed. “Would you care to
explain why their bodies were cut open?”
“Well, the rusalka must have done that too.”
“What! Outrageous! A rusalka wouldn’t cut up two women like a demonic laboratory experiment!”
The two brothers seemed to shrink into a corner as Yaura screamed at them. “I don’t know what to tell you,” Edwin said. “You can go and see for yourself. It’s a rusalka out there, and you can ask it why it does what it does.”
“This is ridiculous,” Godwin complained.
“We should go,” Yaura said. “Unless you’re ready to be honest with us.”
“No! Please. Please don’t go. We’ll all be drowned and eaten without you.”
Godwin and Yaura exchanged a glance. Whatever they were leaving out, the two brothers really were scared. No one was that good at acting.
“We are dealing with matters far outside of my expertise,” Robert said to Godwin and Yaura. “I’ll default to your judgement with this. It’s the only proper thing to do.”
“Then let’s get to the next question before we make a decision,” Yaura said. “Who was murdered? Did she live in this house?”
Edwin and Altwen glanced at each other. “Murdered? The woman who lived here? No, she died peacefully in her sleep. That was only last week, after the rusalka already made itself known.”
“Look, some woman was murdered,” Godwin said. “Or you’re lying about the rusalka. Rusalka’s don’t just show up out of nowhere. They’re the result of a woman being killed. Usually a pregnant woman. Usually murdered by her husband. Sound familiar?”
“Honest sir, it doesn’t,” Altwen pleaded. “There’s been no pregnant women around here, and certainly no murders.”
“Perhaps another village?” Yaura asked.
“There’s none for many miles,” Edwin said. “Just us.”
“We know it’s a rusalka,” Altwen said. “She’s a beautiful water lady, but she can turn hideous in a flash—just like that! Her teeth are like needles and she’s got hundreds and hundreds of them.”