The Return of Cathos (Tales of the Silver Sword Inn, Complete Collection One)

by Wilson Harp

  Hemal heard the sound of Bartimus’ horn blowing from the temple as he made his way over to the shaman’s body. The glowing gemstone lay on the ground, and a long black arrow was embedded into the lizard’s head. From the angle, it looked like it had struck from almost directly above the creature. Hemal picked up the stone and immediately realized that it was a soul-stone, used to capture the souls of victims of dark rituals. He suddenly felt hope that he could return life to the boy and started to run back to the temple. Donal was rushing out to meet him and upon seeing the soul-stone urged Hemal back to the altar.

  Bartimus was leaning on a pillar, cuts and tears through his mail shirt evident, and blood covered his face. He had his horn in his left hand and his sword in his right. Hemal thought he might need some herbs and bandages, but that could wait until the boy was tended to. When he got to the altar he looked at the boy’s lifeless body. The bald man’s knife had merely cut into the boy’s stomach, and the blood was minimal. Hemal took the gem and held it over the boy’s forehead and started the prayer of blessing that he hoped would reverse the spell that trapped the soul in the gem. After several minutes, Hemal heard a loud crack and felt the gem shatter in his hand.

  He looked down to see the boy’s eyes flutter open and take a deep breath. Donal and Bartimus were standing by the altar.

  “We need to get going,” said Donal as he cut the bindings from the boy.

  “Listen,” said Bartimus. “The horns in the distance! They are coming.”

  Donal smiled broadly and lifted the boy into his arms. “Let’s head back to the hill. We can meet them there.”

  No lizardmen came near the party of men as they carried little Patrick up to the hill where they had made the fire pit. There were over a dozen men from the town already there when they arrived, eager and willing to hunt the lizardmen who had taken a child.

  “Guardsman Bartimus, you need to be taken care of,” said Guard Captain Kersten. “You look a mess. A few days off might be good for you. I’ll make sure your wife knows not to make you do work around the house.”

  Bartimus went off with his captain and several other guardsmen to get patched up and to let them know what happened.

  Several of the townsmen made a litter for Patrick and were already moving him down the hill back to the town.

  “Where is your fourth?”

  Donal turned to the man speaking with him, a forester named Wilhelm.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The fourth man, Donal. The one who was up here on the hill right before we started blowing our horns. I was scouting ahead and saw the smoke from the fire pit. Then I saw a man slip down the side of the hill and start into the bog.”

  Donal fixed a stare on Wilhelm. “He was not with us, but do not hold anything back. What did he look like?”

  “It was at a good distance, Donal. I didn’t see him clearly. He was a slender man with a bow as tall as he was. I couldn’t find any tracks from him when I went to look to see which way he went.”

  Donal nodded mutely as the pieces of the puzzle started working into place.

  “Come now,” Donal said as he clapped Wilhelm on the shoulder. “There will be no more hunting here today, the lizardmen have gone to ground. Let’s find something to eat.”

  ------------------------------

  Croft was counting his coins for the day with his ledger open when Donal walked in stinking of the swamp and sweat.

  “I heard you got the boy back. Will he recover from his ordeal?”

  Donal nodded and walked over to the bar. “He will recover. They took him to the shrine in town where Hemal will tend to him.

  “Then what’s wrong, Donal? You look like you are wound tight.”

  Donal pulled several items out and placed them on the bar. “I know why Calaran wanted to speak with me now.” He held up a knife and a leather bracelet. The bracelet was made of several leather strips cleverly woven together. In the middle of the weavings was a silver coin.

  “I can tell by your face, Croft, that you have seen these before.”

  “I’ve seen two such bracelets, but they both had copper coins, not silver. Calaran collected them from Horas just last week.”

  “And the knives?”

  “I think Lendin has one and Horas the other.”

  “I would have thought Calaran would have taken the knives as well.”

  “I don’t think he knew about them. What are they Donal? What is going on?”

  Donal sat on a stool and put the knife down. He turned the bracelet over in his hand and said “The Cult of Cathos. I thought we wiped it out, but I guess it has taken root again.”

  “Necromancers? Are you sure?”

  Donal pointed at the shattered gemstone lying on the bar. “That held little Patrick’s soul for a few minutes today. With it the cult could raise probably twenty undead minions. And the lizardmen are working with them this time.”

  “Divine preserve us. You need to go see Calaran at once.”

  “I leave as soon as I know where to start looking.”

  “The Golden Harp in Loramund. That was where he was headed first.”

  Donal picked up the bracelet and shoved it in a belt pouch. He then stood and started walking towards the door.

  “Wait, Donal. What’s this?” Croft was holding the long black arrow that Donal had set on his bar.

  “That is why the cultists were in the Shadowmist Wood. That is who they are hunting, and we need to find him first. He is the only thing standing between Black Oak and an army of the undead.”

  Danger in the Woods

  It was a busy day in the Silver Sword Inn when Horas stepped through the doorway. Ever since Calaran the bard had made a reappearance, people seemed to have rediscovered the cozy comfort of the inn sitting a few miles outside of town. It wasn’t a refined set of people who sat in the common room. A couple of nicer inns in Black Oak catered to those with pretentions. Those who avoided honest labor were missing as well; they haunted a few rough dives with watered whisky and stained walls in the old part of town. The clientele of the Silver Sword Inn were farmers, craftsmen and travelers, a sort of people that enjoyed their time together but wouldn’t put up with bad behavior any more than would the stout innkeeper.

  Croft stood behind the bar talking with a young boy. Horas had heard that Croft was making enough to hire a full-time messenger boy, and young Mikel looked to be the lucky lad. Mikel’s father ran an orchard a little further down the road from Black Oak, and his trees filled the town’s winter pantries with apples, pears and plums each year. Mikel was the youngest of four boys in the family and was one of the fastest runners among the children in the area.

  The young boy stuffed a piece of paper into his pocket and scurried through the crowded room and out the front door as Horas approached the bar.

  “Good afternoon Horas, what brings you out here today?” Croft had seen Horas come in. He had scratched out the rest of his supply needs for Mikel to take into town while looking at Horas and the changes that had come over him in the last couple of months. He had a harder look about him now. His axe still hung by a heavy leather belt on his waist, but now a hard leather cap sat on his head and a small wooden shield was slung over his shoulder. He no longer wore the thick leather jacket that he once thought was proper armor, but wore a set of cured and boiled leather armor that hung down to his thighs. A matching set of vambraces covered his arms from his elbows to his wrists. He looked like a serious adventurer now.

  “I’m supposed to meet Karl and the rest here. We’re going out to Long Branch to find out what happened.” Horas motioned to the keg of beer sitting on the bar as he put down three copper coins.

  Croft nodded as he filled a mug for Horas. “I guess you’ve all heard the story then?”

  “Lendin filled us in on everything. He said that a group of adventurers were attacked while they slept at Long Branch. Two were killed, and the two who got away are still recovering in town. They didn’t know what it was,
but Lendin and a couple of other hunters went out the next day and recovered the two bodies. Bloated and half rotted by the way he told it,” Horas said before taking a few sips of his beer.

  “And you and Karl are going to go find what attacked them?”

  “Not just me and Karl. A few others are coming as well.”

  “Lendin going?”

  “No, his father needs him to help with a large order of barrels that came in. Apparently old Cruses in Gen finally died, and his sons aren’t interested in being coopers. So Kemis got a bunch of business from one of the inns in Gen and from a couple of vineyard owners as well. Their first shipment is supposed to be up there next week sometime. Plus, I don’t think Lendin really wants to go hunting this thing.”

  “No, I suppose not. He’s had a taste of adventure, and I don’t think it suits him,” said Croft.

  Horas had just opened his mouth to respond when he saw Cassie come out of the kitchen and start sweeping the common room floor. Horas shot a quick grin at Croft. “I think I’ll help Cassie sweep up some.”

  Croft shook his head. It would take Cassie twice as long to finish with Horas helping her, but he understood they were young and knew he just had to put up with a fair bit of nonsense.

  Croft was about to go into the kitchen to speak with Magda about dinner service when the front door to the inn opened and several young men came in. With a quick glance over his shoulder, Croft saw Karl, Val and Medrick come into the inn. Croft missed a step when he saw Bernadette come in right after them. The innkeeper stopped and turned back to the common room.

  Bernadette liked to be called Berni, but that was no name for a girl. Besides, Croft had known her since she was a child. Her mother, Kerla, had been one of those women whose life was the result of bad fortune compounded with worse choices. Drink and men accounted for most of her waking hours, which mostly occurred when the sun was down.

  Bernadette had found Kerla’s body in an alley a few years back. No one could say for certain how she had died, and she had been buried in the pauper’s area of the graveyard. Bernadette had placed a wooden marker over her mother’s grave and tended it ever since. She had determined that she would never end up like her mother. Croft had never seen a harder working, thriftier young woman in all of his life. She was a quick study and willingly learned jobs that she had never tackled before. She also stayed away from any drink, not even having a beer or wine with dinner. She drank well water and milk, even when she visited the inn with her friends.

  And there she stood, Horas’ old heavy leather coat swallowing her small frame and a spear in her hands that was longer than she was tall. Croft walked over to the group and met them before they reached the bar.

  “What is this, Bernadette? You going out into the woods with these boys?”

  “Yes Master Croft, I am going to help them hunt whatever killed those men.”

  “She’s good, Croft. She’s been practicing with the guardsmen, and she is really good,” said Karl.

  Croft looked at her with a doubtful expression. “I don’t doubt that she has picked it up easily, but the whole of the fight is not in the ability to use a weapon, but the willingness to use it. Are you ready for that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “The Council has put up a reward of fifty silver coins for catching or killing whatever is in those woods. They don’t want to risk their guardsmen this far from town, but they don’t want something that can kill travelers this close.”

  “So it’s money. There have got to be easier ways to make money.”

  “My mother thought so as well, but I won’t do that. Besides, I’ve heard stories of you traveling with a woman named Ermine who was good in a fight. And there was Serena of Loramund; she won a gold chain from the Duke if I remember that tale.”

  Croft smiled. “Yes, Bernadette, there are some women who have made a success at adventuring. Just be careful. Remember, those who have to prove something usually are toasted by their friends on the anniversary of their deaths.”

  “I’ll be careful, Master Croft. I promise.”

  Croft fixed his stare on each of the young men in the group before turning and walking back into the kitchen.

  ------------------------------

  “That was unpleasant. Are you sure you want to go, Berni?” asked Val.

  “Yeah, let’s get going. I know you think we won’t run into whatever it is until nightfall, but I would rather get there and set up before it gets too dark.”

  “I agree. Do we have the lantern oil?” asked Medrick.

  “I have ten flasks of oil. That should be enough,” said Horas as he looked over the others. “Where did you get the crossbow, Val?”

  “My father told me to take it when he heard what we were planning. I took a bolt in the back the last time I was out; figured this time I might give a bolt myself to whatever is out there.”

  “Good idea, Val. I have some oil as well, Horas, and I have some holy water from Brother Hemal at the shrine if we need it,” Medrick said.

  “I really hope there is nothing undead out there,” said Bernadette, shuddering a bit at the thought.

  “You’ll do fine. Is your staff enchanted?” Karl asked Medrick.

  “No, but Master Orias will be teaching me how to put enchantments on items next year if I keep up my progress.”

  “I only asked because the carving is so beautiful. It looks like it was ensorcelled like in the stories.”

  Bernadette hit Karl on the back of the head with her hand. “Forget the delicate carving, Karl. Are you going to want to compare shoes next? Let’s get going!”

  “Lead the way, Berni,” said Val. “We’ll just follow after you like puppies.”

  Bernadette smiled back at Val and headed out the front of the inn.

  Soon the small party of young people from Black Oak left the High Road and headed into the Shadowmist Wood. It was just past mid-summer, but the weather had been mild and comfortable for a few days. A nice breeze kept the air moving under the trees, and the sounds of animals and birds going about their business made the trek into the woods feel like a casual walk instead of a hunt for something dangerous.

  “That’s odd. You would think that if something were out here that could kill men easily, the birds and animals would be nervous and quiet,” said Karl in a wondering voice.

  “I asked Lendin about that once, and he said that if the animals sense something is wrong they might be quiet, but a predator is just a part of nature. That’s what they have to face every day, so to them it is normal,” responded Horas.

  “So it’s a natural predator? Like a bear or some wolves?” asked Bernadette.

  Medrick shook his head. “I saw the bodies. It wasn’t a bear or wolves that rotted away flesh.”

  The rest of the trip to Long Branch was quiet as each considered what could be out in the woods. Finally they spotted the clearing through the thinning trees and saw the run-down buildings that still stood from the former hamlet.

  Splotches of something unusual were on the trees near the hunter’s camp which stood in the center of the abandoned settlement. The splotches were bulbous and milky white. Some were as small as a robin’s egg, others bigger than a large man’s hand. The buildings also had the splotches on them, both inside and outside, and there was a very large pile of the milky white substance in a small pit that served as a latrine between two of the buildings.

  “What is all of this?” said Karl. He looked closely at the large pile near the privy pit. He tapped on the top of the pile with the bottom of his large square shield, and something moved inside it. He jerked back, but his shield held fast to the white substance. “Don’t touch it!” he called out. “It’s sticky. My shield is stuck.”

  Val heard his brother’s warning just as he heard a skittering sound directly above him. He looked up into the tall beech and screamed a warning as he raised his crossbow. The giant spider dropped straight down on him as he fired the readied
bolt, but the dangerous creature’s tough carapace deflected the bolt easily. The spider knocked over Val and bit him on the leg. He screamed and reached for the sword at his belt.

  Horas had his axe in his hand and dove at the spider. Standing nearly three feet high and almost six feet across, the monster moved with the speed of its normal sized cousins. Horas hit the ground where the spider had been standing. He rolled as he landed and was on his feet in a second. Karl had dropped his shield and swung his mace hard at the spider by the time Horas located it again. The mace bounced off the spider’s head, and it stabbed out with its front legs. Karl dodged one, but the second caught his left arm above the elbow and sliced it deeply.

  A blast of flame from Medrick tore off one of the spider’s legs. The creature made an evil hiss and jumped at the young wizard. Bernadette slid on her knees under the spider as it was in the air and stabbed at the monster from below with her spear. The momentum of the spear thrust forced the spider to miss crushing Medrick under its mass, but it spun about and started coming at Bernadette and the wizard quicker than they could blink. Horas dropped his shield and reached into the satchel slung on his waist. He pulled out a clay flask of lantern oil and then threw his axe at the spider. His throw was on target and powerful enough to embed the axe in the spider’s body. He pulled the stopper from the oil flask and waited.

  The spider turned towards Horas, enraged with pain at losing its leg and having an axe thrown into it. It leaped again over Bernadette and Medrick right at Horas. Horas threw the open flask of oil right at the spider’s head as it came down on him. The young warrior dropped to the ground in a roll, narrowly avoiding the creatures lunge. He heard the clay flask shatter on the spider’s tough hide as the monster hurtled over him.

  “Medrick, flame him!” he shouted.

  “Horas!” Bernadette said.