A Whisper of Darkness

by Troy A Hill

  “Yes, Your Grace,” the man said. “If they get nervous, we know we’re on the trail.”

  “We’ll try to catch up once we have an idea if his route is direct or not. Let the hounds run towards the end of the valley.” Penda pointed towards the gap in between two shallow hills. “Looks like the creature is staying consistent. We will try to pick its trail up at the far end.”

  The hunt master whistled to pull his men and their dogs back in for instruction. Penda let the dogs and their handlers stay in point, but the dogs ran ahead now, guided by whistles from the hunters. The hunt master was smart enough to keep them from the line where Undead Baldwin had run.

  The few prints we had found so far showed a much longer gait than I would have suspected from a running human. Whatever animated the corpse was giving it unusual strength. Enough to cover two human paces in a single step. That meant it was fast. My kind of undead fast.

  We continued that way for another hour. The horses trotted along the main track through the valley. The dogs stayed off to the side and ran with us. We slowed a few times to let the dogs cross the path. Each time they grew skittish and refused to follow the road. Whatever they sensed, they didn’t like. I figured that meant we were on the right path to follow the undead monster inhabiting Baldwin’s corpse.

  As we moved out of the vicinity of Penda’s main town and fortress, the surrounding hillsides grew more numerous with trees. Copses became a thickening forest. We stayed on the main path, which was rutted with wheel tracks. Penda had us slow and asked the hunt master to bring the dogs across again. The hounds made passes across the path several times in the next league. The dogs balked whenever they crossed the main path.

  “If he stays on the path, we’ll have an easy time,” Ludló said.

  “I suspect that he won’t,” Penda said, gazing down the path. “That thing was too intelligent. I suspect there might be a trap, an ambush in here somewhere.” He glanced at me. “Has Lady Gwen shared any lore with you? The Cymry seem to have many tales of old monsters. And with your battle last year at the abbey, you are the closest we’ve got to an expert on this subject. Any knowledge or tales of walking dead?”

  Interesting question. This wasn’t the first time someone had unknowingly asked me about my nature. But after six hundred years of practice, I was skilled in dodging such questions about myself, even when they were unintentional.

  “The corpses we fought at the abbey were made to walk again by magic,” I said. “Lecerf was a wizard and called forth many hundreds. They were slow and fought without skill. The only way to kill them was to take off their heads or do enough damage that their bodies weren’t intact enough to fight.”

  “Has Lady Gwen said anything about undead?” Penda asked. He wasn’t aware of how Gwen, Seren, and I communicated, so I had to be cautious of what I relayed.

  I shook my head. “She was just as confused as the rest of us when the Witch Hunters were the culprits and raised an army of corpses. Who knew that the dead could walk again?”

  Seren chortled across our mental link.

  “Don’t you have babies to play with?”

  “I’m holding one now,” she replied. “He and his sister like to sleep a lot, so we take turns holding them.”

  As we rode, I got that feeling between my shoulder blades. We were being watched. Another league passed, and I couldn’t shake it. I kept my mind, with my goddess-enhanced senses reaching out around us. I watched for the ripples that signalled something magical trying to hide.

  Nothing.

  But the hairs on the back of my neck wouldn’t relax.

  You’re getting old, I told myself. Or scared. Last fall at the abbey spooked you, Maria. Just relax.

  That’s when I noticed what I had missed. A flash of fur in the tree line. My hand darted to Soul’s hilt. Then relaxed.

  Wolves. Paralleling us. They stayed deep in the shadows. I reached out with my thoughts. An invitation to speak.

  “You are pack?” the leader’s thoughts flashed back.

  “I ran with this pack leader,” I sent and included a vision of my friend Greyback.

  “You run with two-legs on four-legs, they hunt?”

  “We hunt another two-legs.”

  “Come… alone… we share…”

  Cryptic. I got the sense the pack leader wanted to be sure of me before he shared whatever he was hinting at.

  “Where are you going?” Ludló boomed out as I turned my horse.

  “Going to talk to an old friend,” I said and smiled. “I need to do this alone.”

  “Send men with her,” Penda said over his shoulder. He rode ahead of me.

  “No, Your Grace,” I said and held his eyes. “I must insist. What I need to do needs to be done alone.”

  “No one ventures off by themselves with those creatures on the loose,” Penda declared, his voice solid, commanding. By now he had turned his steed to face me.

  I pointed ahead to where Talian rode with Dunstan. “Those two can stay here on the road and observe me. I won’t stray from their sight.”

  Penda held his gaze steady on my face.

  “You won’t say what you mean to do?”

  “Something that only Gwen and I can,” I said. Seren could too, but I didn’t need to tell him that.

  “Druidic ways? Magic?” he asked.

  “Not quite,” I said. “I have friends, animals, who will share information. But a full hunting party with dogs, men-at-arms, spears, and swords will intimidate them.”

  The Mercian king considered for a second, then nodded. I whistled at Talian with a signal that the Penllyn men used. Ludló waved both him and Dunstan back.

  “We will continue for about half a league then wait,” Penda said. “That will give you enough space for your… friends… to be comfortable?”

  “It should,” I said. By then Talian and Dunstan had returned.

  Once Penda and his men had moved on, I slid out of my saddle and left the lead with Talian. He and Dunstan chatted while they waited. Their laughter drifted on the wind behind me as I walked deeper into the forest.

  After a few hundred yards, I looked back. The two young men on their horses were still visible. There was enough scrub and deadfall around for the wolves to feel safe.

  I squatted and waited. A few seconds later, a muzzle with yellow eyes above it slid out of the brush.

  “You are pack,” he sent.

  “Someday, we will run together, my friend,” I replied.

  Two more wolves edged into the small clearing. They approached, and I stayed still while they smelled me.

  “Death,” one sent to the pack leader. “But not dark death like the other.”

  “You have seen the dead two-legs?”

  “Dark death ran. Dark death smell of death. Pack frightened of dark death,” the pack leader sent. “You hunt dark death with two-legs?”

  “We do,” I replied. There was little I could think of that would frighten a wolf pack. I hoped they hadn’t been scared enough to not observe Baldwin. “Have you followed the two-legs who smelled of death?”

  “Dark death two-legs ran. Fast. Faster than pack can run,” he replied. His two pack mates melted back into the woods. “Smell of death stayed on two-legs path. Ran beyond second flowing stream.”

  After a beat, he added, “Dark death bad for all. Bad for pack. Bad for two-legs. Bad for land and all animals.”

  “Will you continue to watch?” I asked. “Tell me what you find?”

  “If two-legs with wolf cousin not hunt pack, we help hunt dark death,” he replied.

  “I promise to ask the pack leader of two-legs not to harm your pack,” I said. “He will want to run together and kill dark death.”

  “We will run,” the pack leader sent and faded back into the scrub. “We talk again when white orb in dark sky.”

  34

  Camp

  I didn’t see nor sense much of the wolves after that. They ran ahead, well ahead, of where we rode.


  “Your friends are…?” Penda asked when I rejoined the hunting party.

  “Helping,” I said. “Your men need to leave all wolves alone this trip. No stray arrows, no throwing rocks. Nothing to drive them away.”

  “Wolves? You are a remarkable person,” Penda said. Then his smile faded. “How do I explain that to the men?”

  “Aren’t you King of Mercia?” I said. “What happens to those who argue with you?”

  “Depends on their tone,” Penda said. “I listen to the men in my guard. I don’t always heed their advice, but I listen. They respect me for it.” He looked towards Ludló.

  “They’ll listen,” the guard captain said. “I’ll tell anyone who complains to ask you about it, milady. I’ll tell them the furry buggers are your friends, and any who harms one will answer to you.”

  “If that makes it easier,” I said. I didn’t want some kind of reputation from Ludló threatening his men with my wrath.

  “You’ve got the reputation already,” Ludló said, reading my expression. He grinned. “Not a man here who isn’t glad you’re along on this trip. Too many are dead already. They may not say it direct, but they respect you. You proved yourself in battle. Twice. You’ve got our backs, and we’ve got yours.”

  Gwen rose a few hours later. We had just made camp when I sensed her mind reach out for contact.

  “Feel any better?” I sent.

  “Much,” she replied. “I kept willow bark with me for the headaches, and Afon knows how to help me if I need to use that spell again.”

  “How strong was the one you unleashed last night compared to what you did at the abbey?”

  “About the same,” she replied, then paused for a good moment. “That shows just how strong this black cloud is. The spell at that level wiped out several score of Lecerf’s undead, and it only reduced this cloud to about half of its size.”

  “Any idea what it is?” I asked. “I don’t like this. We’ve got two different creatures of darkness running around, and a shifter. What in all the hells is causing this?”

  “You know as well as I,” Gwen sent back. Her tone had shifted back to that of Gwen the leader, Gwen the first disciple of the goddess.

  “My dreams?”

  “Yes,” she sent. “The Lady’s adversary still fights on. Killing Lecerf didn’t destroy whoever is challenging her.”

  “I keep thinking Lecerf was her challenger.” I sighed and watched as Talian worked to erect a tent for me. I shared my vision with Gwen. That was easier than explaining what was going on around me. Dunstan came to assist.

  “Dunstan seems to be recovered from his meeting with the cloud,” Gwen sent.

  “Now that Urthbert is gone, he’s not getting teased about the encounter,” I replied. “He and Talian have taken to each other. The friendship seems to be good for both of them.”

  “Celebrate the small relationships, dearest,” she replied. “The Lady has brought many of us together to combat her foe. We never know who amongst our friends has a critical role to play in what lies ahead.”

  “What lies ahead?” I asked. “I’d hoped that the abbey was the end of the battles.”

  “If it were, Penda would now be The Lady’s champion,” Gwen said. Her tone was quiet. I could tell she was drifting in thought. “You still hold that position, else you wouldn’t have found Arthur’s sword when you needed it.”

  That left me with little to say. My role, no matter how little I wanted it, was to be the champion of the goddess. At least when it came to sticking swords into people, things, and monsters. That part I did well.

  Gwen and Afon cleaned their small camp and headed out again. The trail of magic they followed was weak, Gwen said. She lost track of it several times during the next few hours. I left them in peace and kept my worries to myself.

  The light of the campfires lit the clearing where Penda had set up camp. Two small fires lit the night. The first was larger, as the huntsmen and the dogs gathered around it, as did the guards, including Talian and Dunstan. Most of the men sat on their bedrolls or leaned back against a tree or larger rock.

  The other fire was for Penda. Only three camp chairs were out. I assumed for Ludló and I along with Penda. All the men, including the king and guard captain, were gathered around the cook fire the huntsmen had blazing.

  Talian headed my way and passed me a simple bowl of boiled vegetables, laced with some dried meat that soaked up the broth. I grabbed two mugs and sloshed ale into each. Enough so the men wouldn’t think twice about my meal and drink.

  My young friend and I drifted away from the camp. We nodded at one sentry. The moon was up. It gave us enough light, even through the trees, for Talian and the guard to see.

  Once we were past the sentry, I glanced back to make sure we were out of sight of the camp. More than enough trees grew here to block my line of sight back to camp. That was both a blessing and a worry. We’d need to be extra vigilant tonight. There was too much cover for something to approach unseen. We didn’t have many options in this part of Mercia, but Penda said the forest was thick and wide.

  Talian held his empty bowl out. I traded mine for his and poured my cup into his now-empty one.

  “You and Dunstan are getting along well?” I made it a question as an invitation for him to talk.

  “Urthbert got under his skin in a big way,” Talian said between mouthfuls. “He’s sorry that whatever is in Baldwin got to him like that. Dunstan is a good man. He wants to earn his father’s trust and prove he’s worthy of a position in the guard.”

  “His older brothers hold all the positions in Cenric’s household?”

  “Exactly,” Talian said. “He’s the youngest of the brothers, like me. He was afraid Lord Cenric would continue on with us instead of returning to their lands. Dunstan is away from both the bully Urthbert, and from his family. He’s ready to be his own man.”

  “You two try not to engage Baldwin if you can help it,” I said. “That thing isn’t like the undead back at the abbey. Whatever that is…”

  “It’s fast,” Talian finished. “Everyone is talking about how fast it moves. They say they’re grateful Lord Emlyn trained you to be as fast as he is. Say the only people they’ve ever seen move that fast are you and him.”

  “You’re not correcting them, are you?” I said.

  “No, milady!”

  “Good. Let them think Emlyn trained me,” I added.

  Lord Chamberlain might track down the school and teacher where Emlyn trained. I wasn’t worried. Aemi was skilled at hiding his identity. He would have moved on several years ago, if not before. He’d be in a different part of the world, with a different name, by now. Probably on his second or third location since Emlyn had been his student.

  I felt a tickle at the back of my mind then. My eyes drifted along the tree line. I saw a flash of fur and sensed my wolf friends approaching.

  “Sit on that rock,” I told Talian. “Don’t move fast, and keep your mouth shut no matter what.”

  He did so, without even voicing a response. I squatted down and waited.

  “He is pack for you?” the wolf sent. This wasn’t the same wolf who had conversed with me earlier.

  Wolf speech was limited, and trying to translate it into human ideas was challenging. I thought I understood his meaning.

  “Yes,” I replied. “He is from my home pack. We run to help another pack with an esteemed pack leader.”

  The wolf slid out and stepped towards Talian. He stayed an arm’s length away and raised his muzzle to sniff the air.

  “You have a strong pack,” my new furry friend replied.

  I glanced at Talian. His eyes were wide but not worried. He sat as still as the rock under him.

  “Have you found the creature we search for?”

  “It ran this way,” the wolf replied. “Pack run hard. Run fast. Found den where it slept while bright orb in the sky. Smell of rotten death.”

  “How far away?”

  “If you run now, we fin
d den as bright orb rises.”

  Merda! Several hours. Undead Baldwin had a major lead on us. Wolves could communicate across great distances, just as Gwen, Seren, and I could. The wolf before me was their rear guard, tasked with communicating with me.

  “Thank you, my friend,” I sent. “I will keep watch tonight. Please find me if there is any other news of the dark death.”

  “We will run together,” the wolf sent and faded back into the brush.

  35

  Breaking Dark

  “We are closing on it, dearest,” Gwen’s thoughts came to my mind.

  “All is quiet here,” I replied. “How close are you?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” she added. “But you need to see this. Are you with others?”

  “No,” I sent. “I’m walking the perimeter of the camp.” Something in her tone gave me the idea I would not like what I saw. I found a tree about as thick around as my waist to lean back against. Out here, I was between two of the three sentries Ludló had posted. No one was close enough to see me.

  “Go ahead,” I sent and closed my own eyes.

  Gwen’s yellow ball of light lit a small pool around her. Sheep lay in the grass of a meadow. They all seemed quiet. Sleeping.

  “Not asleep,” she sent. “There’s more.” Her gaze shifted down. An elderly shepherd, wrinkled and dry, stared at the sky. Unblinking.

  “Look closer,” Gwen sent. She stared at the old man’s eyes.

  Dead. Lifeless. The parched skin around them was framed by stark white hair, his face wrinkled and cracked with aged lines. The eyes… They were young eyes. Eyes of youth. No cloudiness, showing little if any damage that the years bring.

  “How old?” I asked.

  “Ten winters, perhaps,” Gwen said. Her tone was sombre, even in our mental speech. “It drained the life from this youth, and all the herd. They all appear to be in their advanced years. Even the lambs. It’s as though they’ve had their future lives drawn from them.”