*****
Jadwiga was thrown roughly into a stable where one of the fishmen stood watch over her. Behind him, in the background, she could see movement. It was the wood spirits again moving about, looking as if scouting the area. If the men-at-arms and fishmen cold see them, they gave no sign. The soldiers were looking through the wagon.
Jadwiga could see the soldiers rifling the wagon looking for something. Perhaps they knew about the package the trio were carrying. How could they know? Too much didn’t make sense, as if the enemy knew about their plans.
*****
The Wallachian stood looking at the Teutonic warriors going through his wagon. His apprentice, Wart, sat on the ground rocking back and forth working himself into frenzy. As this went on, the activity of the wood spirits intensified and the wind picked up. The master looked at him with his palms down and the boy slowed down. He noticed the village headmaster and the sergeant arguing. The sergeant kept poking his finger into the chest of the headman and it seemed to be annoying the leader of the fishmen when suddenly the man was stabbed in the back of his head. A surprised expression appeared on the sergeant’s face before he fell to the ground. The Wallachian grabbed his apprentice and moved towards the back wall.
*****
The villagers wanted their sacrifices. That was the agreement. “The Ancient Ones demand a sacrifice.”
Hoff shoved the headman hard.“You will get your sacrifices when we say – if at all. We’ll wait for the commander, and when he says so, and who you get, then you can play with the nice folks.”
“No unbeliever. We were promised suitable sacrifices by the next moon – tonight. If you will not give them to us we will take them.”
“Only if you want this village burnt down, you savage.” He spit at the ground and turned to leave, when the headman pointed to his own ear. A woman walked up to the sergeant to offer him a drink. When he went to push her away she pivoted on her back heel and round-housed a short knife into the back of Hoff’s skull. The rest of the villagers had quietly surrounded the men at arms and most were killed.
*****
As David and Jan watched, it appeared as if their misfortune would be relieved. One man was left and he fought until he could fight no more. Wounded and bloody, he was overcome by the villagers. The women were the cruelest to him; they could tell this by his screams. He was brought behind a shed, towards the flat stone. They were followed by the remainder of the village who seemed bent on joining in the blood. One villager was left at each of the huts to guard the prisoners.
*****
From her captivity, Jadwiga could hear the chanting. She thought the villagers might let them go free, but then she realized they were substituting one set of monsters for another. The guard was transfixed on the events going on by the stone. He was sniffing the air as if he was taking in the scent of the blood. Jadwiga noticed movement off to the side. It was the wood spirits who had moved toward the stable. The spirits were part ethereal, part feral. They flitted about with wings, but had bark-like exterior. They sang, sing-song-like in light verse that seemed to keep the guard like stone in place. The spirits moved slowly, but kept singing, transfixing the fishman while others of their kind let Jadwiga go. The spirits released her from her prison and her bonds. While the man was still transfixed, she dispatched him with a small knife she kept in her boot.
The wood spirits moved, fading away back into the woods where they came from. Grabbing the guard by the heels she brought the body back to stable. Taking the dead guard’s spear, she moved around to the hut where David and Jan were kept. Getting their attention, they occupied the guard with their shouts when she stabbed him with the spear. Freeing them quickly, they took the dead guard’s weapon then snuck up on the guard at the Wallachian’s and killed him quietly, picking up his weapon and ready to face the balance of the enemy. The two men worked quickly to get the wagon ready while Jadwiga got the Wallachian and his apprentice.
*****
Jan tried to organize the survivors as quickly he could. Each of them went about their business as quickly as they could, but the Wallachian went to the wagon and pulled the small woolen bag from under the front seat and shoved in into his sash.
“We need to get the boy out of here; now!” There was a sense of anxiety in the man’s voice that was not there before. “He is the prize, we need to get him out of here.”
Suddenly Jan understood that this was a double blind. The boy had been ignored and in the background. They were led to believe there was a valuable object they were to guard – but the boy was the object. They had been set up as bait, and if not for the delay, the boy would not be here.
The men tried to muffle the sound of the horses and wagon as they pointed them in the direction out of town. The townsfolk were satiated for the moment, focused on the sacrifices, and started to work toward their next victims, walking around in a stupor that seemed like a sense of euphoria. When they finally noticed their captives in the midst of escaping, they were suddenly roused into action and with a roar and charged toward the wagon with their prizes.
Jan, David, and Jadwiga managed to get the horses hitched and moving with the boy protected by the Wallachain. David took the reins and tried to get the wagon moving quickly. Jan saw the townsmen coming toward them on the run and threw a spear toward the lead townsman, which hit him square in the chest. This halted them for a second, while they decided who was brave enough to tempt death again. David didn’t wait and started the horses into a gallop, making distance between them and the fish people. The townspeople ran, but could not keep up with the horses and went back to mount up.
Jan was not sure where they were going, but he knew he needed to get away – anywhere – as quickly as possible and tried to direct David down the road. They came to a fork in the path and his natural inclination was to go left.
“Go right!” shouted the boy out of nowhere, and David instinctively yielded to the order, taking the right fork which ran parallel to the water. He could see a ford ahead after a short distance, where the river bisected the road. As they closed on the crossing, figures emerged from the water. They were not the fishmen, but looked like their comrades; those that died in the crossing of the big river.
Their faces were pale, almost white, with blank eyes. David tried to whip the horses into a frenzy, to rush at the bodies at full speed to run them over, but the horses shied at the approach and were hesitant to keep going. The water was only waist deep, but they were stuck in the middle with the dead closing in on them. Jan and Jadwiga poked at them with spears, but it only stuck them without stopping them. They were not close enough to use their daggers and if they waited that long it might be too late.
*****
The fishmen and women got some horses and made their way after the prisoners. They were so far behind they could not see where the fugitives had gone. Rather than taking the right fork, they took the left, sure that was the direction they were heading to avoid the water. They had gone about one hundred yards when they saw a troop of horsemen moving toward them. They were brother knights and they were prepared for battle.
*****
Brother-knight Randolph was talking to Brother-knight Mortimer making leisurely time toward the village. “The Commander will be pleased with this, Brother. Once we get those stooges of the Grand Duke to tell us where the artifact is, the mongrels in that village can do what they want with them.”
“It is too bad they have not elevated themselves sufficiently to enjoy the blessing of the Eldar race. Those who do not serve the will of the Eldar Gods sufficiently will always perish.”
The force of twelve mounted sergeants and twenty infantry continued in this manner for another twenty minutes when they came upon a man to the side of the road sitting with his back against a tree. He was dressed like one of the infantry and was wounded in several visible places, including the head and hands. One of the foot soldiers came up quickly to examine him, followed by a brother-surgeon. The rest of the infant
ry came up and set up a perimeter. The surgeon examined him. After a moment he hurriedly called for water and then gently forced some down his throat. The man choked and coughed, but once he settled down, his words were no more than a whisper. The surgeon nodded and ran up to the brother-knight making sure not to make eye contact. “Brother…”
“Yes, soldier. Are you going to leave me in suspense?”
“No, my lord. The soldier is named Franz. He was part of the garrison left at the fish town. The headman wanted to sacrifice the captives at the new moon despite the orders to wait. The villagers rose up against the garrison and killed them.”
“How did Granz survive?”
“Franz, my lord. He said he was able to fight some off before they got the better of him. He was only able to crawl off once his attacker was killed by one of ours, sir. He hoped he would find us to warn us.”
“Very well then. Sergeant! Get the men in battle formation and get ready to move on the double. Brother Stephen, once we get to that village, kill all of them. They are no use if they can’t follow orders. Burn it all. If they want a sacrifice to the Eldar Gods I will give them one.”
“Brother-surgeon, will that soldier survive?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Kill him.” His words were ice cold as he thrust his arm out toward the wounded soldier.
“My lord…” The surgeon sputtered, staring at the commander in shock.
“He is a coward. He should have fought and died with his companions. We kill cowards.” The man sneered as he stared down at the surgeon, his almond shaped eyes never showing the slightest hint of emotion. “Kill him.”
“But my lord, he tried to warn us. We may still be in time.”
“Do not question me, Brother.”
“Yes, my lord.” The surgeon turned and went to the wounded soldier asking for his bag. He knelt down beside him and pulled out a jug. He lifted his head to the side to look at a wound in his neck. As the man relaxed, he stabbed the soldier with a small blade and held him there until life drained away. The jug was held next to the stable wound and collected the life blood. When he was done, he dropped the body as if it were a plank of wood and handed the jug to his assistant to put a stopper in. Randolph turned to Mortimer and the knight snapped to attention.
“When we are done here, kill that surgeon too. No one questions my orders. Especially not in front of the men. Bad form.”
“Yes, Brother Randolph. Consider it done.”
Randolph sneered once more as he turned toward the town. He spurred his horse forward, bending into the stride as he led the charge.
*****
Jan and Jadwiga kept poking the dead specters with poles, but it just stopped one while another moved forward. The Wallachian kept saying incantations and creating small shields that temporarily stopped them. The boy kept rocking back and forth mumbling to himself. The horses were stopped and were shimmying back. The undead were closing in, the horses were panicking, and there was so much noise and motion that Jan felt sick from his head to his stomach. The boy flung his hands out and there was a bright light. Jan raised an arm to shield his eyes, but as the boy cried out, he swore he saw a blast of energy that sent the specters flying back. It stunned friends and foe alike, but the Wallachian and Jan recovered quickly and grabbed the reins blindly and got the horses moving and across the water to the other bank before the undead could recover. In the deeper areas of the water, the mermen watched with disappointment and they went back beneath the surface. Slowly, the dead specters sank back where they came from and the waters were calm again.
*****
The town was still some distance away when they encountered a group of the strange fish people. By the looks on their faces, they were just as surprised to see the brothers as the brothers to find them here. Randolph felt the hatred tighten in his gut as he saw the weapons they were brandishing. Fools,
“Let us pass.”
The knights just stood there, stone faced, not understanding the man.
“We need to go after the strangers.”
Still, the knight stared at the strange people and did not say anything. Then a sneer formed as he raised one hand, causing arrows to fly from the treeline, knocking village men off of their horses. The fish-people stared in confusion, but the knights charged in, slashing them down.
Most of the people were still by the stone slab, with blood running off it. There were bodies floating away in the water that could not be determined.
Neither man, women, or the small emaciated children were spared the knights’ wrath. Those within sword length were cut down quickly. Those that evaded the knights were hunted by the foot soldiers. Torches suddenly appeared and soon the buildings were ablaze. Before long, the whole place was a burning inferno; smoke and embers flew everywhere combined with flames and screams. It was a frenzied hell. There was no thought of plunder, no actions against civilians, just death. Soon the sandy ground and lagoon were awash in blood.
Brother Mortimer was covered in blood and gore as he rode up to Brother Randolph. “The men were upset because there was nothing of value in the village. The people were could not be sold as slave and the women were ugly. When they are done this place will have never existed.”
Brother Randolph turned to him and raised his visor, squinting as the sun was setting. “What was that man saying? Not that it mattered; it was probably a lie.”
Brother Mortimer screwed up his face and thought. “I don’t know. I have never gotten the hang of that language. Our translator seems to have been killed. It just doesn’t matter. They are not worth worrying about.” Then the brother just trailed off and looked out on the bodies floating in the lagoon. “We didn’t find anything in their possessions. Maybe it was never there or these animals buried it.”
“The commander was quite adamant on the artifact and the spies. We need to come back with something.” Then the knight turned his horse and rode along the water’s edge.
*****
Along the river, back in the reeds a small boy lay still. He was the only one who was still alive from his village. He was hurt, having been slashed by one of the men-at-arms, but he laid still as he was taught and knew that the Eldar Gods would watch over and protect him until he was strong enough to take his own revenge, and hopefully ascend.
*****
The wagon started to slow down after about a mile or so. The horses and passengers were tired and dripping with sweat alike, but for different reasons. David dropped the reins and the horse just meandered on the path as the passengers slumped down in the wagon. As far as the Wallachian could tell, they were heading in the right direction, going west.
“It seems we were both a part of the Grand Duke’s plan.”
“So it seems. Did he alert you about us?”
“No, my friends. He did not.” There was a silence between them as they moved along. “My name is Georg. I was born in Constantinople and escaped during the slaughter when it fell. I claim to be Wallachian to keep people from questioning me too much. I was preparing a group of trained fools when the city fell. I wanted to forestall this day, to open the gate, but I was too late. Now fifty years later we are here, but we are not safe.”
There was the possibility of bandits, slavers, Teutonic Knights, and wild animals that could stop them, but they needed to keep going to Starybogow. The sun started setting and soon they would be in the dark; probably best to make camp in a hollow and hope for the best, but then they saw the fairy lights and for a second they knew they were safe.
Strength in Faith
Brandon Rospond
Cardinal Carafa,
16th Century engraving
The sun peaked in just enough from the arched window frames to cast its beam of light on his cloth shoes as he strode calmly yet purposely down the stone halls of the monastery. The sister to his left side seemed anxious, constantly having to slow herself when she got ahead of him. He took his time, going as quickly as the gnarled wood cane allowed him. Some
where, at the end of the deep sleeve of the crimson robe, his hand held the end, but looking down it seemed comical; the cane seemed an extension of the limb hidden within.
They passed many open doorways with men bent over quill and paper, as well as men in earthen brown robes who did not speak but instead bowed their heads as they passed the cardinal. The young woman by his side scrutinized every face they passed. He smiled.
“Elizabeth, you will not find Mathias among these men.”
She stiffened, bowing her head slightly.
“My apologies, Your Eminence. I am just-…”
“Eager to meet the man I have talked so very much about?” She looked toward him and he smiled with a wink. “I suppose that I am to blame for your excitement. Mathias is a devout follower of our Lord Almighty and has done much in support of the church. I suppose I have rambled my fair share about the man.”
The holy pair continued on, walking slowly through the hallowed halls with the cardinal's cane dictating their speed, until the corridor led to two wooden doors swung completely open, as if welcoming them. When they reached the first pew, he stopped, bending down and crossing himself in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. After his young acolyte did the same, he motioned for her to sit.
“Wait here, Elizabeth. While I speak with Mathias, take this time to pray and speak with God.”
City of the Gods - Starybogow Page 27