by James Bee
“You have all seen this same symbol scrawled across our walls and doors! This is the sign of the crimson moon! Drawn by those who would see us all fall to the northern fires!”The priest’s voice grew loud in his triumph. “We must root them out and destroy them! Lance the corruption from us!”
“This is no proof! A note left by a corpse!”Rolan protested. The man looked shaken, his face paler than normal.
“That is not all,”Gerald said quietly, drawing the attention of the room again. “There’s been grave-robbing in Redstone. The corpse that the farmer found was a man named Fillup. Some of you may have known him. His grave is empty. I saw it for myself.”At these words, Lucan spat out an angry curse as Blane smashed a fist down at the table. Fletcher in particular looked shaken, more than Gerald had ever seen him.
“This cannot stand! Grave-robbing under our noses! We must take action! Every day the people’s fear gets stronger and stronger. They talk of fleeing! Of surrendering and leaving Redstone to the Sanish!”Blane growled.
“Maybe they’re right. Maybe the town should be evacuated,”Rolan said. Every face snapped around to look at the merchant.
“All of our forces would have to escort them. Redstone would be abandoned and destroyed,”Gerald said.
“The mine too,”Kayl added. Rolan shook his head.
“The guild cannot abandon the mine. It wouldn’t be worth our heads. We would hole up inside of our walls and wait for them to leave,”the merchant answered. Gerald’s hands balled into fists. He would have the mine spared by the sacking of Redstone!
“We are not going to abandon Redstone. We are not!”Blane growled.
Gerald nodded his agreement.“Indeed. I have been tasked with protecting it, and I plan to do that. That means we must first root out these traitors within our walls and punish them accordingly.” Rolan opened his mouth to protest but seemed to think better of it.
“I will see to it. These heathens will not escape the justice of the gods,”Lucan said passionately. His eyes were gleaming, shining with zeal. He reminded Gerald of a hunting dog straining to chase after a fox. Gerald didn’t envy anyone unlucky enough to find themselves in his custody.
“As you wish. No harm shall come to innocents, though. We need to find the true culprits, those actually responsible,”Gerald said.
“All are guilty in the eyes of the gods,”the priest replied.
Rolan sighed loudly, rising from his seat.“Always with the drama, Lucan. If you all wish to spend your time chasing ghosts and questioning the small folk, I will leave you to it,”the guildmaster said, looking scornfully around at the table.
“I’ll have some questions for lords too,”Lucan replied, looking at him hungrily. Rolan shrugged off the threat and left the room. Gerald frowned at his back as he left. There was no telling what would happen when the Sanish arrived in force. NeitherRedstone nor the mine can survive on their own. We must stay united.
“I don’t trust him. He’d happily see Redstone razed to the ground if it meant the survival of his precious mine,”Kayl said, echoing his thoughts. Murmured agreements came from the others.
“What can we do, though? Perhaps the thought of losing half their coffers will make the guild more interested in our survival,”Gerald said.
“Pah! They’d make that gold back in one shipment. He only gave it to you to get you to allow him to finish their fortifications. He’s up to something. The man’s a rat,”Blane growled. Despair seeped into Gerald’s mind, unwilling to be held at bay any longer. How many enemies could they fight? How could he defend Redstone’s walls against its own people? What could he do?
“I’ll look into it if you like. I’m friendly with a few of the miners. They’ll talk to me much soon then an outsider,”Fletcher said, coming to his rescue. Gerald nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude. As reluctant as he’d been to have him in his service, Fletcher had proven himself indispensable.
“Thank you, that would be very helpful. One less thing to worry about,”Gerald said, slumping down in his chair. It felt as though the very weight of responsibility was pressing down, threatening to crush him flat.
“Word will have spread by now. Everyone will know that there are traitors within Redstone’s walls. Folks will be turning on each other soon enough. Suspicion and fear are a dangerous mix. People might start taking matters into their own hands. Could be trouble,”Blane said. Gerald knew he was right. He’d been inside of a city under siege. It turned people into animals, driven only by their basest instincts. He was not eager to repeat the experience.
“Aye. I want it to be known that all of these activities are outlawed. Anyone caught drawing these symbols or performing these rituals will be punished severely. As will anyone taking dispensing justice upon themselves. We must not allow order in Redstone to wriggle out of our grasp,”Gerald said.
“I need no instruction on how to hold my town from you. I’ve been protecting Redstone since you were toddling after your mother,”Blane sneered at him. Kayl made an angry noise, but Gerald lifted a hand to calm him.
“Clearly, my lord. You seemed to have everything well in hand today. I’m sure those who were dragged off into the woods must be so thankful that they were under your protection. When we arrived the state of Redstone’s defences were pitiful, barely more than a mouldy wall. I would not be so quick to boast of your prowess,”Gerald said quietly. His frustrations were pouring out of him. The garrison commander’s face went pale, and he gripped the hilt of his sword.
“Take care, bastard. Blane is known to lose his temper. Best bite your tongue,”Lucan said with a slight smirk. Gerald turned to look at him.
“I think my tongue has more to say. Perhaps some questions about how a fucking northern cult managed to grow under your nose? How could you be so blind? Both of you have failed in your duties. When the mayor died, Redstone fell to you. What did you do? Bicker amongst yourselves. Hatch your little plots and plans!”Lucan’s face tightened with rage. “You will do as I say and be glad for the instruction. If we all survive this, your lives will be in my hands. The Crown will be most interested in your failures, and your fates will be balanced in my reports. I would suggest you rethink how you address me in the future. My lord will do. Bastard does have such a nasty ring to it.”Beside Gerald, Kayl’s hand strayed slowly to his sword. Gerald couldn’t fault him for the reaction. Both men were staring murder at him, eyes bulging out of their sockets.
Instead of lunging at him, Blane rose to his feet. “As you wish. My lord,”he said through gritted teeth. “Now if you will excuse me, I have wounded men to attend to.”He turned and left the room, footsteps falling heavily on the wooden floors.
To Gerald’s surprise, Lucan smiled at him. “Seems like you discovered your backbone. I would hold on to that anger if I were you. It’ll serve you well in the coming days,”the priest said before also walking out of the door. Gerald watched him leave, feeling slightly off balance.
Kayl let out an explosion of breath and slumped down in his chair. “I thought they were going to leap over the table at you. By the gods, what compelled you say those things? You don’t need anyone else eager to stick a knife into you,”he said reproachfully.
“Leave me be. I’ve had a bad day. I can’t let them tread on me anymore, Kayl. I have to have muzzle them, at least a bit. They’re too dangerous otherwise. They might not respect me, but a little fear might help,”Gerald said wearily. His face was throbbing where the giant’s shoulder had smashed into him, and his ribs were still a mass of pain from Fletcher’s blade. All he wanted to do was crawl into his bed and wake up in the capital, with this all being a bad dream. It felt like months since they’d left. Since he’d saved those men’s lives and been exiled for it. His problems had felt so huge back then. What he wouldn’t give to be back there now. He missed the sneers, the whispers behind his back. It didn’t seem likely that he’d ever get to hear them again.
“I’m sorry, Kayl. It’s my fault you’re out here. You and Orland. My friendshi
p has cost you both dearly, I’m afraid,”he said.
Kayl snorted, shaking his head. “If it wasn’t us out here, it would be someone else. Damn, though! I thought this assignment was going to be easy. A boring few months babysitting some farmers. If you hadn’t gotten us sent here, the Crown would have probably sent some green company full of young boys, fresh off the training yard. At least we stand a chance. We can make a difference.”The big man laid his hand on Gerald’s shoulder. “Besides, you didn’t know any of this was going to happen. How could you? Orland’s the real fool. He volunteered to come up here. Imagine how he feels right now.”Gerald smiled with him, only feeling guiltier. I never should have let him come. I should have sent him away. As if sensing he thoughts, Kayl changed the subject. “Go get some sleep if you can. There’s no way tomorrow can be as bad as this, but I doubt it’ll be too pleasant.”Gerald nodded, though he doubted sleep would be forthcoming that night.
24
Chapter 24
Bleary-eyed, Gerald shuffled down the street toward his cottage. It seemed like the morning’s sparring with Fletcher had taken place a week ago. Every step jolted his ribs, sending a sharp pain lancing down his side. His chin hardly felt any better, the skin mottled purple under a struggling beard. His mind was blank, overwhelmed by the days events. A warm bed, beside a warm fire, was all that occupied his thoughts.
The streets were empty, save for him, it seemed. Gerald would have expected more obvious displays of panic, running around screaming and such. Instead the people of Redstone had hidden indoors, as though warriors could come running out of the shadows to kidnap them at any moment. Which he supposed they probably could. The attack today had been evidence of that. Shivering, Gerald wondered what had happened to those who’d been taken. Were they still alive? For their sake he hoped not. He could only imagine the horrors they could be enduring.
Yawning hugely, he opened the door to his small house. It smelled damp inside; likely there was some water leaking in through the roof somewhere. Shrugging off his cloak and hanging it up with this sword, he stepped inside. With a shiver, Gerald hurried over to the fire pit. Sweeping out yesterday’s ash, he set about lighting a blaze. At the first crackle of the burning logs, he relaxed. Now at least the unfamiliar room felt like the one at the palace. He’d spent many evenings sitting in front of the fire, alone up in his room. Though he could hardly believe it, he missed the place. Despite its flaws the palace was home, with its stone walls, drafty hallways, and floors that didn’t creak.
A sound behind him caused Gerald to twist around sharply. A hooded figure was rushing toward him, axe raised high above their head. On instinct, Gerald reached into the fire and flung a log at the intruder. His aim was true, and it struck the black-clad figure in the face. This bought Gerald enough time to roll to his feet. For the third time that day a thrill of fear ran through him. His hand grasped for the sword that wasn’t there. His attacker was between him and the door, his blade hanging beside it.
Lunging sideways, he narrowly avoided a wild swing aimed at his head. The axe buried itself in a table behind him. With a snarl, the hooded figure wrenched it free, sending splinters arching through the air. Gerald flung a nearby chair, desperate to keep space between them. His would-be assassin was keeping the axe between Gerald and any escape. The weapon came at him, again and again. Gerald dodged, but only barely. The blows were savage but not skilful. Whoever was trying to kill him, he was not trained. Anyone competent would have cornered him by now. All I have to do is wait for him to make a mistake, Gerald thought as he ducked a cut aimed at his head. Only the axe whirled in the air, changing directions, and embedded itself in his left shoulder.
Gerald felt the impact numbly. Instead of fear, anger blossomed inside of him. With a roar, he lunged forward, barrelling into the attacker’s chest. A surprised grunt escaped from under the hood as they tumbled backward. The axeman’s foot caught on an overturned chair, and the two of them fell down. Gerald landed hard on top, inadvertently driving his assailant’s head into the hard wooden floor.
Screaming, he swung his right fist at the man’s head, over and over. His vision was narrowed to the now unhooded face. A man’s face. The sounds of rushing water filled his ears. Again and again his fist dropped. With a furious cry, he wrenched the axe from his shoulder. Weakly, the man below him lifted up his hand, eyes wide and fearful. Gerald’s arm rose above his head.
“No!”the man croaked, blood dripping out of his mouth. The axe split his head in two. Bellowing, Gerald tore the blade free and hacked down again. And again. And again. Until the head of the axe was buried in the floorboards.
Rolling off the man, he propped himself up again the wall. Breathing deeply, the consuming rage began to subside. In its absence pain rushed it. His shoulder was on fire, a pulsing warmth emanating from it. Blood had soaked his shirt, splattering down onto the floor. Groaning, he struggled to his feet. With any luck, someone would have heard the racket and would come running. Although that person might simply be there to finish the job.
Gerald stumbled across the room, every step agony. Ears straining, he listened for anyone approaching the house. Not that he was sure what he could do to stop them if they were there to put an end to him. With a sharp cry, he slumped against the wall beside the door. Gripping the hilt of his sword with his good arm, he drew it free. The effort nearly sent him stumbling backward.
Over his ragged breath, Gerald thought he could hear footsteps approaching. With the last of his strength, he raised the sword over his head. He would only have one chance to catch whoever it was unawares. The footsteps came closer now. Whoever it was, they weren’t taking any pains to walk silently. They must think me already dead. The steps came to a halt in front of his door. With a whining creak, the door swung over. Gerald gripped the hilt of his sword as tight as he could, prepared to cut down the intruder.
He brought the blow up short as Orland stepped through the threshold with a bottle of ale in his hand. The nobleman gave a shocked cry as he saw Gerald standing there. Sagging with relief, the last bit of strength fled out of Gerald. Shouting, Orland rushed forward and caught him, just as Gerald’s world fled into darkness.
25
Chapter 25
The sound of screaming jolted Gerald awake. For a moment panic gripped him. Where am I? The room was unfamiliar to him. Sitting up quickly, he nearly passed out again from the pain in his shoulder and chin. The past day’s events came rushing back. The attack, the man waiting in his room. Passing out and being brought to the barracks. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he swung his legs out of bed. Seeing him awake, a nearby soldier hurried over. He was young, only a few years Gerald’s junior.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed, my lord. Your wound…”he said, looking at Gerald as if he would collapse at any moment.
“My wound is not in my legs. What is going on outside?”Walking stiffly to the window, he peered out. The heavy rain that was falling in sheets obscured nearly all of the world beyond.
“Not sure. Saw some people running toward the north walls, but I couldn’t say what about. Doesn’t sound good, though,”the soldier said. The screams were quieter now, but Gerald could still make them out over the rain.
“Help me dress,”Gerald said, beckoning to the man.
“You’re not supposed to be up and moving. Your wound could open again.”Gerald gave him a flat stare and he stopped talking.
“That was an order. I may not be Sir Kayl, but you still technically have to listen to me.”Slowly, Gerald moved over to where a fresh set of clothes was lying folded. The soldier helped him ease into the trousers, a tricky feat with only one hand. “What’s your name?”Gerald asked to help dispel some of the awkwardness.
“Gaul, my lord.”The name tickled something in his brain, as did the lad’s face.
“You look familiar, Gaul. Did you serve under me before?”Gerald asked, biting down a curse as they pulled a shirt over his shoulders. Gaul gave him a curious look as he deftly
buttoned the shirt.
“No. We met at the docks. Though I looked a bit different then, of course. What with the blood and bruises covering my face.”Recognition flooded into Gerald. He was one of the soldier’s who was pummelled. Beaten half to death and then whisked away up to Redstone. Piss-poor luck.
“Ah. Of course. Well, you’ve healed up nicely. Let’s hope that I have the same resilience.”Wincing, Gerald pulled on a coat and let Gaul strap a sword to his waist. Sucking in a deep breath, he stepped out of the door. Immediately, Gerald nearly passed out. Head spinning, he had to clutch to the wall for support. Luckily, Gaul’s arm slid under his good shoulder, supporting some of his weight.
“You really should stay in bed, my lord. I’m sure the situation is under control,”the young soldier said. Under control, but whose control? Gerald knew he couldn’t allow the others to run the city while he lay helpless. God’s only knew what kind of mischief the other lords could get up too. He didn’t trust them — couldn’t trust them. Who sent the assassin last night? One of them? By now, Lucan could have the citizens locked up for heresy and Blane the other half charging into the woods looking for a fight. Only he could save Redstone. Only him. Gerald felt the soldier’s hand on his head. “You’re burning up, my lord. The fever’s taken you. You need rest and water. Let me help you back…”
“No!”Gerald said, shaking his head as vigorously as he could. “Help me outside and try to keep me from ending up face-down in the mud. Wouldn’t do much good for morale.”With the younger man’s help, he started down a flight of stairs. Each one sent a shock of pain into his arm. Sweat began to pour off him and his breaths quickly became ragged. Damn Kayl for putting me on the second floor. Eyes watering, he reached the bottom of the staircase.