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Preserving the Ingenairii

Page 14

by Jeffrey Quyle


  “Let’s get moving on to safety in Three Forks,” he said after consideration. “We’ll have time to talk then.

  “How is our other guard? Did he survive?” he asked, suddenly remembering the attack from the night before.

  Constanc shook her head. “He died on the spot. They stabbed him in the heart.”

  Alec leaned forward and slowly stood up. “Everyone needs to carry a weapon,” he said. “I’m going to see what’s left on the attackers. Where are their bodies?”

  “The crowd came and pulled them away for us. They dumped them over there,” Nestor pointed as he walked up.

  Alec walked over to the bushy screen, then pushed through it and saw the pile of dead men. Rigor mortis had set in, and stiff bodies maintained grotesque shapes as he rolled them aside to find weapons he could plunder. He took a sword to replace the one he had lost the night before, and chose one that was an upgrade from that weapon. He stripped off a black leather vest and pulled a bandolier of throwing knives off another man, and a bow and quiver of arrows off a third body. Satisfied that he could protect himself and his companions, Alec slipped back through the bushes to the campsite. The bustle of activity at the campsite stopped, as all eyes turned to look at him.

  “You’re serious about being a warrior ingenaire, aren’t you?” Constanc asked.

  “I think we need to be ready to protect ourselves,” Alec answered, as the others looked at him cautiously. “Harry can go in front, and I’ll take the rear position,” Alec motioned to their remaining guard to lead.

  The last of the meager camp supplies were packed, and the group began to follow the road east towards Three Forks. Stracha was directly in front of Alec, then Nestor, with Constanc and the nameless leader directing the horses behind Harry. It was evident to Alec that Stracha now wanted to talk to him, an attitude much changed from the day before.

  “How long will it take us to get to Three Forks, and what will we do when we get there?” he asked the girl. He needed to understand better what was happening around him, and this girl right now was apparently eager to please him with answers.

  “Don’t you remember?” she asked.

  “No, my memory is not quite right yet,” he told her. “Will we meet other ingenairii there, in Three Forks?”

  She glanced at him sideways, as he swiveled his head around to observe their surroundings, looking for possible threats. “Yes, the survivors from the Ingenairii Council will have their meeting there, you know that. We’ll meet them and probably join forces with them, then have to decide whether to go to Stronghold or Goldenfields; at least that’s what Parnell thinks. We won’t be able to stay in Three Forks; it’ll probably fall soon too, with a demon leading the Michian invaders right into town.”

  The mention of the demon startled Alec, and reminded him of the piece of the One Cross he had possessed. He looked at his hands instinctively, knowing they were empty, then shoved them into his pockets. He knew he had picked up the piece of the Cross in the ingenairii realm, but had he been able to bring it back with him when he transitioned back to this world?

  His fingertips felt a rough fragment. He grasped it and pulled it out into the sunshine, examining it carefully as he walked along. It appeared to be intact, unharmed by the spiritually fiery blaze it had ignited in the energy realm as it ended the existence of the demon he had fought there.

  Alec’s heart thudded in his chest as he realized that he wanted to destroy another demon, and every demon that was involved in invading the Dominion, and those in the land of the lacertii as well for that matter. “We won’t let the city fall,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “We can defeat the demons now.”

  He felt the girl’s hand grip his arm, and he looked down at the long fingers, then up at the pretty face with smudges of dirt. “Are you Alec?” she whispered the question. “Can you truly defeat the demons? They’ve been killing our people for years. I didn’t know there were any warrior ingenairii left after all the battles with demons. But if you’re Alec, if you’ve come back to life, the Dominion and the ingenairii can survive!”

  Alec gave a sob at the thought that the warrior ingenairii were gone. No Nathaniel or Moriah or any of their successors left to fight for the Dominion; it was a tragic realization.

  “I will fight the demon and I will win,” Alec said through clenched teeth, ignoring the girl’s tightening grip.

  “You are Alec, aren’t you? Where has Gordon gone?” Stracha asked.

  “I am who I am,” Alec said tersely. “I am here to heal, and I am here to fight.”

  “You said you loved me,” Stracha spoke in a low voice. “Just last week you said you loved me, Gordon. When we get to Three Forks we can go to Goldenfields and join the court there, or we can sneak back into Frame. I hear that once the Michian forces control a city, life is bearable, if you don’t cause any trouble, if they don’t know we are ingenairii,” she said, switching tacks.

  “When we get to Three Forks, we will see what happens next,” Alec replied. He wondered how much longer it would be until they arrived at the city safely. “This is not the time to talk about living with Michian control; you will never want to try that,” he said as he remembered when he had briefly visited the land of the empire. What had become of Rief, his companion in those days, he wondered. She had returned to the Dominion with him, and then he had left for his long imprisonment with the demon in the ingenairii energy realm.

  His old life, it had ended fifty years ago. He reeled further as the truth sunk in; he would not be able to pick up any of the pieces of the life he had left behind. There were no friends here who knew him, who could laugh with him at old memories, or mourn with him for lost companions. No one else alive would remember laughing with Jonso the clown, or understand the comfort Helen Millershome provided.

  He walked on silently, and felt the girl’s fingers leave his arm as he turned to watch the crowd on all sides, looking for potential threats. The landscape was growing populated with houses and buildings, indicative of their arrival at the outskirts of Three Forks. Hours later they reached a mob that was stopped in place on the road.

  Alec walked up to the front of the ingenairii group. “What’s the hold up?” he asked the leader, Parnell, Stracha had called him.

  “The rumor is that there’s a checkpoint ahead, and there’s a regiment of Goldenfields Guards trying to pass through to reach the front,” the man replied.

  “If that’s true, I’m going to go with the Guards to the battle,” Alec said. “Where will I be able to find you in the city after the battle?”

  Parnell looked at him strangely. “We’ll take refuge at the Ingenairii Hall, next to the cathedral, until the city has to evacuate. After that we’ll be on our way, probably to Goldenfields. Stronghold may be safer longer, but the court is there, and we don’t want to get caught in those politics,” Parnell bowed his head. “If you go to battle, I don’t expect I’ll see you again.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” Alec said simply, as he heard a commotion in the distance. Minutes later there was a clear disturbance moving towards their knot in the congested traffic. Soon after that, a Goldenfields standard appeared above the crowd and made steady progress towards their location.

  “Good luck to all of you,” Alec told the group of healers. “Keep up your good works.”

  Constanc pushed towards him and looked at him with an admiring gaze. “Gordon, you make us proud. Please, please be careful while you help the soldiers, and come back safely,” she said kindly as she hugged him and Nestor came over to grip his arm reassuringly. Stracha simply shook her head.

  “Alec, be careful around the demons,” she said, in a tone that was both concerned and taunting.

  The vanguard of the Goldenfields unit was passing Alec’s position, and he hitched his pack on his back as he shouldered into the crowd and then began striding hurriedly beside an officer in the Guard. “I’d like to join your unit, sir,” Alec said respectfully.

  The tall man looked d
own at Alec’s puny size. “We have enough drummer boys and we don’t need a mascot, son,” the man said matter-of-factly. “You go back home to your mom or the girl you’re trying to impress. There’s still going to be a need for more soldiers when you’re a little older; come back then.”

  “I can fight now. Look,” Alec held up his arm to show the warrior mark.

  “Nice tattoo, youngster. Now stay out of the way,” a non-commissioned officer commented as he held out an arm to drive Alec away from the passing soldiers.

  Alec stood in disbelief for several minutes as the column moved past him. It appeared to be a small battalion, possibly three companies, with no more than six hundred men. He saw the last ranks of men pulling carts with supplies, and fell in among them. “Can I help?” he asked a team pulling a rough-hewn wagon loaded with arrows.

  A man pulling a shaft looked over and grunted. “Stay behind the wagon and shove it when we get into the ditch,” the man directed without looking.

  Alec thankfully took his position and followed the wagon, frequently putting his thin shoulder against the wagon to help it over the mangled roadway. Within four hours they reached the edge of the battle zone, Alec could tell, as the shouts and orders around them took on an exclusively military tone, and the number of refugees around them fell dramatically.

  “Leave the materiel here, and join your platoon,” an officer ordered. “What’s this?” he asked, grabbing Alec’s shoulder.

  “The kid came out of the crowd and offered to help push the arrow wagon,” one of the soldiers said defensively.

  “So you worked your way up here anyway, did you?” the man said, and Alec recognized the lieutenant he had first approached. “God help you. Stick with these men and stay out of the way,” he ordered and gave a gentle shove that sent Alec forward.

  Alec could tell they were headed directly to the front, as his companions resolutely trudged through the mud towards the loudest sounds of combat. He could smell the faint stench of death.

  “We’re going right into the line. Stay low,” a soldier next to Alec advised him as they began to convert from a column on the move to a three rank line. Alec struggled forward, to where he could peer over the shoulder of the front rank to see what was happening.

  His eyes immediately focused on the horrific creature that was standing in front of the Michian forces, near a single black robed sorceress. The demon was staring at the Dominion line as it began to move forward, and Alec felt as though its eyes were piercing his own soul. He felt nauseous as he knew what he was about to do, and suddenly he was down on his knees vomiting in panic.

  “Hey!” one of his companions said angrily.

  “Leave it alone. That’s the least of your problems right now,” another soldier said.

  Alec braced his legs and spurted out beneath the shields held by the front line, entering the open space that defined where danger was waiting.

  “Get back in here kid!” a voice shouted, but Alec stood up and sprinted towards the demon, which watched his approach passively. Help me now, Lord. I need your protection and your strength, he prayed fervently.

  It surely must dismiss me as no threat, Alec thought to himself. He pulled his bow off his shoulder, reached back, engaged his energies and started pulling out arrows at the fastest pace possible, firing them all at the eyes of the demon. As the sixth arrow left his bow he dropped the weapon and sprinted closer, hurling knives from his bandolier as he ran, alternating his target between the left and right eyes, then suddenly sent his last three knives at the left eye as he arrived almost within reach on the demon.

  His tactic worked, just as it had worked before, and a knife flew untouched through the demon’s batting paws, to land with a sickening sound in the pulpy flesh of the demon’s eye. The evil-tempered creature screamed with rage and clawed at its face, while Alec pulled out his sword and sliced quickly across the stomach of the demon, inflicting a shallow but painful wound that further enraged the demon.

  Alec began to circle right, towards the blind side of the demon, seeking to draw it away from the Dominion army as it recovered from its wounds. Screaming in horrific tones, the monster pounced at Alec with speed that was frightening, and he responded with his ingenaire powers at their highest level, diving and rolling out of harm’s way. He focused completely on the demon now, not noticing the collective gasp and cheer from the Dominion forces when he popped back to his feet.

  The demon closed on him again with astonishing speed, and Alec swung his sword with all his might, taking a chance that he would leave himself open to a strike. His aim was true and the partially blinded monstrosity misjudged Alec’s position, allowing his sword to cleave through the forearm of the hideous entity. All the observers on both sides of the battle gasped in silent amazement, while the demon again screamed as it watched its clawed hand twitch violently on the dusty ground.

  A stream of viscous blue blood swept across Alec’s face, burning like acid as it was hurled out from the gaping, blunt end of the forearm. Alec’s hands went to his face to wipe the mess from his face, and then he rolled again, sensing an attack coming at him. He felt claws rake across his calf and knock him askew, so that he landed harshly on his side. He continued to roll until he unexpectedly bumped into a frightened sorceress, who had jumped the wrong direction while trying to avoid Alec’s frantic movements.

  Alec felt the searing pain in his leg as he looked up at the terrified sorceress above him. Releasing his warrior powers, Alec reached down and healed the worst of the slashes in his calf, then dropped his healing power. He heard the rapidly approaching demon, and twisted to see how close the monster was approaching. Alec felt fear as he re-engaged his warrior powers and ran from the demon into the midst of the frightened Michian soldiers, some of who futilely swung their swords at Alec while most others fled from the catastrophically changed situation.

  Alec heard the demon chasing him, drawing nearer as they penetrated further into the Michian ranks. Alec sensed his warrior abilities starting to fail, and realized that he had little time left before his powers disappeared and the demon caught him. He reached into his pocket and pulled free his talisman, that was more than a talisman, the piece of the Cross.

  Alec stopped, turned and held his right hand and the Cross fragment out in front of him, causing an immediate collision with the demon, which was closer than he expected. As his hand punched into the chest of the demon, the claws of its remaining hand slid across him, pulling Alec away and tossing him to the side. He fell to the ground in agony, suffering from the continuing pain on his face and the new bloody gouges across his back. He heard the eruption of the sanctified flames and felt the intense heat of the flaming consumption of the hatred that constituted the demon, and before he passed out, the last thing he remembered was the rancid smell of the burning unholy flesh.

  Chapter 20 – The Identity Debate

  Alec heard the voices speaking nearby. He could make no sense of their words, and he lay on his side on an itchy wool blanket, feeling a humid breeze blow across him. Gradually the sounds of the voices resolved themselves into words.

  “You can’t tell me anything else about him? He was a milquetoast healer apprentice who turned into the most powerful warrior in the Dominion overnight?” a commanding male voice asked in a skeptical tone.

  “He had a bad experience in the power realm, and when he came back to us, this is who he was,” another man’s voice responded. “We know who he was before, and he looks exactly the same, except for the results of yesterday, that is.”

  “Will you be able to heal him? We’ll need him again, and it would be a shame for him to live looking like that,” the first voice asked.

  Alec groaned as he rose closer to consciousness.

  “He’s awakening. Alec, are you alright?” a woman’s voice asked.

  He sensed something wrong in the woman’s voice. “Who are you?” he asked in return. “Can you heal me?” he felt the intense pain that lay like stripes of fire acros
s his back, as well as the stiffness in his leg. He felt terrible discomfort on his face and the movement of his mouth was difficult. The pain in his back was an old story, he knew, but he couldn’t fill in the blanks. “Imelda? Is it you? Can you heal the wound?”

  “I told you he was Alec!” the woman’s voice rose triumphantly.

  Why would Imelda make such a statement, he wondered momentarily. “Who are you?” he asked again. “Stracha,” he blurted out suddenly, as his memories jogged into place.

  “Where are we?” he asked a slightly different question.

  “We’re right where you fell when you destroyed that demon,” a man’s voice said. “I wish I could have seen it, although some who did see say they wish they never had.”

  A shiver of pain crossed Alec’s back again, and he moaned. “We’re going to put more salve on it, Alec,” Stracha’s voice said. “Just hold on and be brave.”

  The pain in his back was not the arrow from the Locksforts. He was not in the infirmary in Goldenfields. He was not Alec, a healer and refugee from a decimated carnival.

  He opened his right eye, and saw gauze across his cheek, while his left eye would not open. There was pain across his face, and the memory of the demon’s blood spraying across his face came back chillingly.

  “Did we win? Is Three Forks safe?” he asked.

  “Son, not only is Three Forks saved, but we may be able to return to the outer provinces of Frame if we can keep harassing their army in retreat. Michian soldiers don’t know how to lose; they haven’t experienced a loss in all these years when they’ve had a demon out front. Once they lost here it took all the starch out of them and they’ve been rolling up ever since. If the field marshal had enough troops we could chase them all the way back to Oyster Bay right now,” the commanding voice told him. “Or if you could lead our army again, they would follow the soldier who killed a demon…no matter what his size.” Alec could detect the hint of unexpected humor in the man’s voice.

 

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