by James Bee
They were alone out in the woods, unarmed and drunk, spying on some strange ritual. Very suddenly, Gerald felt as though they were trespassing, intruding on something dangerous and forbidden. The fear of discovery pressed upon him suddenly, and he was fully gripped by raw terror.
“We have to get out of here. Now,”he whispered to Orland. For once the nobleman seemed to be lost for words. Gerald felt, rather than saw him nod, and they began to slowly creep backward. Cringing at every snapped twig and crushed leaf, they slowly edged away from the clearing. While they were far from silent, the chanting was covering their escape.
Until Orland crashed down beside him. The nobleman muffled a curse as Gerald helped him to his feet. Mentally vowing never to sneak off with him again, Gerald began to creep backward again, but something stopped him. The air was dead quiet.
Dread filled him as he looked up. All movement inside the clearing had stopped. All those within were looking out. Out at them. Hands by their sides, eyes shadowed, they gazed. None moved. None spoke as the moment stretched on. Gerald could feel Orland shaking, and he grabbed his arm to steady him.
Suddenly, a sound from behind the fire broke the silence. It was a dry creak, as though a great log had been snapped. Around the fire, everyone bowed their heads. Over the crackling and spitting of the fire, Gerald strained his ears. There was no sound, only the roaring of his heartbeat.
Then, from the side of the fire, there was movement. A man was walking, towering high above the others. Even from a distance in the darkness, Gerald could tell he was a brute of a man. As he got closer, Gerald could see he held something by his side. Long, with a curved end. It didn’t take much imagination to guess what it was used for.
The tall figure moved slowly, deliberately, over to the front of the fire. The others scattered before him, moving out of his way. Standing tall, the shadowy giant lifted the weapon and pointed it out toward them. The light from the fire illuminated it, and Gerald could see something dripping off the end.
Blood.
“Run!”Gerald hissed urgently, and he pulled Orland after him. All thoughts of caution and silence were gone as they crashed through the underbrush. The racket masked any sounds indicating that they were being followed. Raw terror drove them on as they stumbled over fallen trees and crashed into holes. Desperation was pounding a hole in his heart as they struggled through the trees. Any moment he expected to feel hands grasp him, bear him down, and drag them back into the forest. The edge of the woods hadn’t seemed far, but it took them an eternity to reach it.
Bursting through the last few branches, they exploded into the moonlight. Yet they didn’t slow. Sprinting forward, they charged down the hill. Gerald chanced a glance backward into the blackness of the trees. So intent was he that he nearly ran headlong into Kayl.
“What’re you two doing? Playing grab-arse in the woods?”the big man said, his smile vanishing when he saw the expression on their faces.
14
Chapter 14
“These deviants must be hunted down and punished! This affront cannot be endured! The gods will not allow it!”Lucan shrieked. He’d been ranting and raving for the past fifteen minutes, though it felt closer to an hour. Across from him, Rolan sat, his expression of scorn as worn as an old sock.
“They’ve done nothing wrong! Frightening the mayor is hardly a punishable crime, is it?”the guildmaster said. Gerald longed to tell him to stuff his face, but he held his tongue for now. Truth be told, he was rather embarrassed about the night before. In the light of day it all seemed preposterous, like a strange dream. If he’d witnessed it alone, he might have been able to convince himself he’d imagined the whole thing.
“Brawls! Brawls and vandalism! They’ve been running amok through our town!”Lucan said, scowling at Rolan. The merchant waved the accusations away with a careless shake of his hand.
“It’s the festival! Everyone was getting out of control! You’re chasing ghosts, I tell you! Just some people having a secluded campfire, singing some songs!”he said. The condescension dripping from his words made Gerald grind his teeth.
“I saw the blood, Rolan! I’ve seen enough to know what it looks like.”That too the spindly man waved away.
“You were drunk, and it was dark! It could have been water or nothing at all!”
“I know what I saw,”Gerald growled.
“Maybe you did or maybe you didn’t. What are you going to do? Start a witch hunt? You don’t know who any of them are! It’s a waste of time! Aren’t you supposed to be finding out what happened to Banesfort?”Rolan said, jabbing a finger in Gerald’s chest. “Not that there’s anything to figure out there, but at least he’s actually dead!”Gerald frowned. As much as he disliked the man, Rolan had a point. He was supposed to find out what happened to the old mayor. But he was just so busy. Also he would have to talk to Wylliam again, which was almost too unpleasant to contemplate. Might be easier to just rule it a natural death. Decide that there wasn’t anything sinister happening at all.
Just then, the door to the meeting chamber burst open. Kayl strode through it, hand on his hilt. In a moment, Gerald could tell that something had happened. His friend had many skills, but hiding his feelings was not one of them.
“Come quickly. A body has been found,”he said grimly. Shock coursed through Gerald as he leapt to his feet. He rushed out of the room, Lucan and Rolan hot on his heels. Outside, a wagon waited, pulled by an old, shabby-looking plough horse. Beside it an old man stood, wringing his hat in worry.
“I just found ’im. Didn’t kill ’imor nothing.”Shock changed to dread as Gerald approached the wagon. The smell of death filled his nostrils. He’d smelled it before, and the stench brought back memories he’d long since buried. Stepping up to the wagon, he peered inside.
It was a corpse, that much was certain. Beyond that, there was little that could be sussed out. Whoever, or whatever, had been dead for a while. Whether or not they’d been chopped up was anyone’s guess. It looked as though a butcher had gone to work, neatly slicing the cadaver into pieces. Suppressing the urge to retch, Gerald turned to the cringing farmer.
“Where did you find this?”he asked. The poor man looked on the edge of panic. His eyes darted from face to face. Gerald didn’t think it was the look of a guilty man, only one that was worried he might be found guilty.
“Behind me barn, my lord. A little ways past the horse feed. I was moving some muck when I smelled it. I followed my nose and I found the poor soul lying in the dirt. Then, quick as I could, I came into town and got help,”he said, gesturing to Kayl.
“I went out and collected it, not an hour back,”the big soldier said. If he felt queasy at the sight, he didn’t show it. Gerald, on the other hand, was struggling not to lose his breakfast. It wasn’t a smell that you got used to. Nor one that you should get used to.
Lucan and Rolan slowly approached the corpse. The transformation on Rolan’s face was immediate. The sneer was gone, replaced by horror and disgust. Blanching, he reeled back from the cart. Pushing past Gerald, he was noisily sick in the bushes. A reaction that was not unlike Gerald’s when he first saw a corpse.
Lucan, on the other hand, barely flinched at the sight. His face was pinched from the stench, but beyond that there was no reaction. He stared down into the wagon for a long moment before stepping back.
“This is the work of a cleric,”the priest said, spitting out the word like poison. Despite the warm day, Gerald shivered. Everyone child in the country had heard the tales of the northern priests sacrificing children and drinking their blood to satisfy their hungry gods. Stories told to scare children into behaving. Ones that he’d long since dismissed as simple fancy. Faced with the mangled corpse and last night’s terrors, he was forced to reconsider the conviction.
“What are you saying?”Rolan asked, having recovered somewhat. Kayl had given him his canteen, and the merchant was washing his mouth out with it.
“I’m saying that a northern cleric did this. I’ve
seen it before. More than once. And there will be more if he isn’t found,”Lucan said icily.
Rolan shook his head.“I’ve tired of your tales, priest. I would wager a bear did this, or a pack of wolves. Not some northern devil, intent on frightening us,”the merchant said before stalking off.
“Gerald, how many people do you think you saw last night?”Kayl asked. The big man was stroking his chin thoughtfully.
“About fifty, I reckon. No less than forty,”Gerald answered.
“No chance that many people could hide out in the woods without our patrols catching them. No chance,”Kayl said, shaking his head.
“They’re not out in the woods. Their inside our walls,”Lucan said. “You think it’s a coincidence that we’ve been having these ‘activities’ at the same time as this ritual that Gerald witnessed, or when this body showed up?”Shaking his head, the priest spread his arms wide. “This town is under siege. Foreigners have come to wrest the souls of its inhabitants away from the true church. This cannot be allowed to continue. If you do not do something about it, then I will!”
Once again Gerald was pressed into a position of having to make a difficult choice with no clear information. It would be much easier to dismiss Lucan’s claims. Accepting them would mean having to wage a war against his own people. Folks who already had more than enough reasons to dislike him.
Yet if Lucan was right, he couldn’t afford to ignore this. A murderous cult operating within his walls? It couldn't be allowed to continue. He had to find a way to control the situation, to keep Lucan on his side without risking himself.
“Do you have any notion who might be a part of it? Besides Rolan, of course,”Gerald asked. The priest sucked his teeth for a moment before responding.
“So far we’ve been unable to determine any of their identities. Most of the devilry happens at night or out in the forests. I have my suspicions, of course, but none that I can act on yet.”Lucan stepped forward and continued in a low voice, one that only Gerald could hear. “I could make use of the old methods to get some answers. Round up a few of the vagrants and ruffians that darken our streets.”His eyes lit up at the thought. Gerald didn’t have to ask what the old ways were. Thumbscrews and red-hot pokers. Not the sort of thing to make him popular with the common folk. Nor did he particularly want to grant Lucan that type of power. The man unnerved him, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. He seemed almost bloodthirsty, eager to dispense the God’s ‘Justice.’
“No. I won’t authorize the torture of innocent people,”Gerald said.
“Innocent! There are precious few in this town whose innocence is intact! Most are corrupted by money, swayed to debauchery and immorality by its lure. This would be no unjust punishment! This would be justice!”Lucan said, nostrils flaring.
“I will not abide it, Lucan. I will not,”Gerald said firmly. Lucan stepped backward, disgust plastered on his face.
“I care little for what you will or will not abide, boy. I cannot allow this town to slip farther into the clutches of the Enemy. Those who do his work will not hide from me, nor my methods.”The tall priest turned to leave. Anger prickled at Gerald, compelling him to speak.
“Lucan!”The man stopped and slowly turned around.
“Wha…”
Gerald strode forward and grasped him by the scruff of his robe.“I’ll give you one warning. Disobey me and I’ll drag you from your precious church and throw you in chains,”Gerald said softly. Lucan paled slightly and said nothing. Feeling slightly foolish, Gerald released him. Without a look back, the priest stalked off, robe billowing behind him.
“You need to work on that temper, mate. Reckon that one could cause a lot of mischief if he wanted to. Town like this, the church is all the folk got. You couldn’t imprison him. Would cause a riot, you’d have a mob at your door,”Kayl said from beside the wagon. Gerald’s face flushed; he’d forgotten that he was there, as was the old farmer.
“I know. I know. Just figured I ought to put some fear into him, make him think that I might actually have some bones in me. Too many bastards in this town think that they own the place. I’m going to have to show them otherwise, sooner or later,”Gerald replied.
15
Chapter 15
Gritting his teeth, Gerald pushed with all his might. Beside him, men groaned as they strained against the back end of the wagon. The stubborn bastard refused to move, stuck in nearly a foot of muck. Then it began to slowly edge forward. The farmer was working himself hoarse, yelling encouragement as he whipped the horse into a frenzy. Digging his heels deeper into the mud, Gerald slowly stepped forward.
With a wet smack the wagon pulled free, causing Gerald to nearly fall over. Catching himself just in time, he slowly walked out of the puddle.
“Many thanks, gents!”the farmer yelled, waving his hat as he bounced away down the road under the light of the setting sun. Wiping his hands on the top of his pants, Gerald began to walk toward the town hall.
“Not often you see a mayor getting his hands dirty.”Felecia said, falling in beside him. As usual, her appearance threw him and he struggled to answer.
“Nice to actually get something done for a change. Even if it is just pushing a wagon out of the mud,”he said, suddenly conscious of his dirty appearance and sweaty face.
“I think you’re doing very well, my lord, considering the circumstances,”she replied.
“The circumstances being that the town is falling to bits around me? A week since that body showed up, and I’m not any closer to figuring out who put it there. Or what to do about it,”he said, fists balled in frustration. Suspicion was lying heavy around the town. Gerald could see it wherever he looked. People walked quickly, in small groups. Merchants glared at farmers, farmers scowled at miners, and miners glowered at everyone. There was little laughter, and smiles were a rare commodity on the streets.
“The lords being constantly at each other’s throats isn’t making anything any better, either,”Felecia added. There was no need to specify which lords she was talking about. Rolan, Lucan, and Blane had been quarrelling daily, at odds about every single issue, arguing about how it should be handled. Gerald was starting to almost hope that some northerners showed up, just so they could have a common enemy.
“GERALD!”a voice bellowed, cutting through the other chatter on the road. It was unmistakable, and the owner pushed his way through a pair of horses to get to them.
“Kayl?”The look on his friend’s face was strange. One that Gerald hadn’t seen from him in a long time. A look that they’d shared moments before the worst day of Gerald’s life. A look of fear.
“The woodsmen returned. Those that survived, at least,”the big man said. Gerald’s blood went cold, and a pounding echoed in his ears.
“Where?”Was all he could sputter.
“Your chambers. I’ve sent out messengers to the other lords. I thought it best that we keep this secret for now. To avoid panic.”Kayl wiped the sweat from his face as he spoke. It was practically flooding off him.
“Good. Good. You did the right thing. Felicia? I need you to do something for me.”Gerald tuned to the young clerk. She was milk-pale, shaking slightly. Forgetting his bashfulness, he reached out and placed a hand on her arm. “I need you to go to the town hall and hold things together for me. Don’t say a word about this to anyone. We can’t afford panic. Not till we have a stronger grasp on what exactly is happening.”Felicia nodded quickly. Motioning for Kayl to follow, Gerald took off in a jog for his house.
People glanced at them as they went by, but Gerald was past caring. The spectre of the northern tribes had been hanging over him for days, and he could wait no longer. Battles in the town were won by words and political manoeuvres. He was worse than clueless in those contests. An enemy, though, armed with weapons, was a different matter entirely. That he could understand, that he could work with.
Turning round a corner, he came to his cottage and burst through the door. An odd sight awaited him in the living r
oom. Lucan stood, pouring steaming tea into the mugs of four seated men, while Orland hovered behind with a plate of bread and cheese. Gerald had forgotten that the nobleman had passed out on his couch the night before. If he was surprised by the sudden guests, the nobleman didn’t show it.
“Ah, Gerald, I was just entertaining these gentlemen in your absence,”he said, passing out the food to the eager hands of the woodsmen. The scouts looked exhausted, muddy, and caked with dirt. More than one had a wound, hastily bandaged. It was their eyes that worried him the most, though. They were wide-open, darting around looking from corner to corner. They had the look of a hunted animal.
“Thank you, Orland. How are you men? Do you need anything? Should I fetch the surgeon?”One of the men made to stand, but Gerald waved him down.
“No my lord, sitting here and eating is all the luxury we need. Feels like we were on the run for weeks,”the man said. He looked as though he was about to pass out. Gerald knelt next to him, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.
“On the run from who?”he said gently.
“The Sanish, I think. Can’t say we thought to stop and ask them.”The man shivered as he said the name.
“Do you know how many they were?”Gerald asked, afraid of the answer. The woodsman shook his head.
“The trees were alive with ’em. Everywhere we looked there was more. Odd symbols painted all of them bodies, eyes burning out of their skulls.”The scout squeezed his eyes shut, as though he was trying to not remember. “They chased us for three days, barely stopping for rest.”