“Stay safe,” Alia said. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Do I ever?” Jonas said before moving off at a ducking run.
*****
The knives went in easily. But it didn’t stop him. He wasn’t wearing armour. That really bothered her. Why wasn’t he wearing armour?
“Why weren’t they wearing armour?” Alia said.
“What’s that?” Trimas said.
“The berserkers. They weren’t wearing armour.”
Daeholf frowned. “No, they weren’t…”
“It’s bothering me,” Alia said.
“Me too now,” Daeholf said. “A full heavy set of armour and they’d have been damn near unstoppable.”
“They weren’t exactly child’s play as they were,” Trimas said.
“Granted. But they could have been better,” Daeholf said. “Or worse from our point of view.”
Trimas shuddered.
“He’s a mage, right, Marlen is a mage,” Alia said.
“Yes?” Trimas said.
“Mages are supposed to throw fireballs and turn you into frogs. Okay? So if he’s a mage, why does he have tools?”
“Hmm,” Trimas said. He too was now deep in thought.
“Marlen does a lot of surgery doesn’t he?” Alia said.
“Yes, we’ve seen many examples,” Zedek said. “Come across some of his tools too.”
“Why though? Why doesn’t he just zap you better?”
“We think it makes it easier for him to work his magic. More efficient.”
“What if it is more than just that?” Alia said.
“Go on,” Trimas said.
“Maybe he has to touch. He has to actually touch you to do his magic, healing for good or bad.”
“So what you’re saying is when we confront him he’s not going to just blow us into pieces, he’s going to need to touch us to make us bleed to death or whatever?” Trimas said.
“And the berserkers…” Daeholf said. “Hmm.”
“We’ve seen his altered die without him touching them. We’re sure it was him that killed them remotely,” Trimas said. “Surely that knocks the idea down?”
“They weren’t wearing armour either though,” Zedek said, thinking back.
“Armour,” Alia said. “Armour blocks him.”
“There may be a certain amount of logic to that,” Zedek said. “But how would that work?”
“Metal is not flesh. He probably can’t work it.”
“It’s worth a try,” Trimas said. He looked at the four of them. “But none of us are wearing much. What do you have in mind?”
“We may have a few minutes before Jonas is ready, whatever it is he has planned. Maybe we could rustle up a suit of armour. We could get one of us fully covered. He can’t touch us then.”
“It’d probably need to be full coverage to be sure,” Daeholf said.
“They weren’t stripping the armour from the soldiers on the battlefields before they were putting them on the cart,” Zedek said, musing. “Maybe there is a discard pile around here somewhere?”
“Hard to see,” Daeholf said. “We don’t have the light yet but it makes sense.”
“Let’s have a quick poke around, see what we can scrounge up,” Trimas said.
“What about Jonas?” Alia said.
“We wait for him to launch his distraction and fill him in when he gets back,” Trimas said. “Let’s see what we can find, see if we can’t put something together.”
“He is coming back isn’t he?” Alia said.
“I’m sure he is,” Zedek said. “He wouldn’t be that daft. Now let’s see what the pile of stuff over there is.”
*****
He couldn’t go through that again. Seeing her lying on the battlefield. And she was still hurt, much as she wouldn’t admit it. Oh Daeholf had checked for the obvious signs of concussion but that was no guarantee. He couldn’t risk it happening again. He knew Marlen. And what he was capable of. Mostly anyway, he amended, thinking back to the berserkers. That had been a surprise. He circled his shoulder again. He wasn’t ready for another fight like that. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for another fight like that.
They were waiting on the other side of the churchyard. Waiting for his signal. He sighed. He couldn’t risk it. This was something he had to do alone. And he had a plan. A plan that only risked himself.
He peered out from behind the tree. The altered guard had no idea he was here. He had time to set things up.
From under his shirt he pulled out a small package of waxed cloth. Inside was a leather-wrapped glass vial. Much as he didn’t like carrying it this close to him, he didn’t want to risk it getting lost or broken. The stopper was still firmly in place. Which was good. Otherwise he’d probably be dead.
He took his secret knife from its wrist sheath on his left arm. He unstrapped the sheath and carefully, oh so carefully, emptied vial into sheath. He put the empty vial down carefully on to the waxed cloth. He certainly didn’t want to come directly into contact with the stuff himself. With extreme care he worked the knife back into the sheath, coating the blade liberally. Nervously, he strapped the sheath back on his arm. Though it had been designed for this purpose he didn’t want to risk this stuff coming close to him for any longer than necessary.
This venom was the deadliest stuff he’d ever seen. He’d used it once before and that was his second most shaming memory. He could clearly remember the blood leaking from every orifice as the man’s flesh dissolved from the inside. It was a terrible thing to do to someone. It was also the only thing he was sure would do the job. Whilst he could have filled the others in and have them try an arrow or two, he had to be sure that Marlen got a good dose directly into somewhere vital. There would be no half measures. And there could be no risking him getting wind of what he was going to try.
Now there was the problem of getting to Marlen. There was no chance of fighting his way in. It needed to be something better than that. He was about to take an enormous risk but he didn’t see any other way. He hooked a cloak about his shoulders and raised the hood. Close enough. He should look just like any other altered. The four on the other side of the churchyard would not notice the difference.
He stepped calmly out from behind the tree and walked slowly towards the gate with his hands up.
“I’m here to see Marlen,” he said. “I’m Jonas, we’re old friends.”
The guard started and raised his sword. Jonas hoped that the four were not looking this way at the moment.
Jonas continued walking forwards slowly. “I’m unarmed and he’ll want to see me.”
The altered looked at him doubtfully but Jonas was making his lack of weapons clear.
“Trust me, he’ll be unhappy if you turn me away.”
The altered waved to one of his companions patrolling the churchyard nearby. “Take him to the boss but kill him if he tries anything.”
Jonas was led across the yard. He tried his best to make sure his body was between the naked sword and where the others might be watching from. He didn’t want to give them any cause for suspicion.
His escort spoke to the man on the door. The man on the door knocked on it twice. The door opened slightly and there was a hushed conversation. After a moment the door opened further and Jonas was ushered in.
Jonas took a minute to look around. This was it alright. The pews had made way for tables. Operating tables by the look of it. Only a few were occupied and the bodies on them weren’t moving. Marlen was standing partway along the main chamber, cleaning his arms off with a cloth. He looked up as Jonas started to approach.
“So it is you then,” Marlen said. “You’re not as dead as the reports would have me believe.” He studied him for a moment before turning to his attendants. “Wait outside,” he said.
“It is me,” Jonas said.
“It’s been a long time,” Marlen said. He finished cleaning himself off and walked to meet Jonas, picking up his staff along the way.
>
“It has. You look well,” Jonas said. And he was right. Marlen looked largely as he had all those years ago when he’d last seen him, or maybe even younger somehow, though that was impossible.
“The years have been kind. You look … a bit battered,” Marlen said, studying him.
“I got into a fight with one of your berserkers. You should see him.”
Marlen started at that. “You killed one of my men? By yourself?”
“Mostly. A little girl helped me.”
Marlen’s jaw dropped momentarily. He composed himself quickly. “You always were more capable than people gave you credit for,” he said.
Jonas shrugged. It made him wince.
“Left arm dislocation,” Marlen said, watching him. “I guess you popped it back in but it’s obviously causing you some trouble. I can fix that for you.”
“I’ll manage,” Jonas said.
“Why are you here?” Marlen said. “You forgiven me and decided to join me?”
“No.”
“Shame. Though I’m not sure if I’d have believed you if you’d said yes. We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”
“We didn’t.”
“So why are you here?”
“I’m hoping to talk some sense into you.”
Marlen laughed. “Sense? Really?”
“Can’t you see what you’re doing?”
“I know exactly what I’m doing. But can you see it?”
“You’re hurting people. A lot of people.”
“I’m saving people. Even more people than you could possibly imagine.”
“I’m sure you believe that.” Jonas stepped forwards with a pleading gesture. “But…” He stumbled.
Marlen reached out instinctively to catch him. Jonas plunged the hidden knife deep into Marlen’s side.
“What…?” Marlen said, staggering back, pulling away from the knife. He wobbled, leaning on his staff, pain and hurt evident on his face, blood leaking from his side. He started to shudder.
“I’m sorry,” Jonas said, straightening.
Marlen staggered back another step, gasping. Blood was now leaking from his ears and eyes. He coughed and it was bloody foam. Jonas bowed his head slightly. Marlen wavered and fell to one knee, barely supporting himself on his staff.
“I’m so sorry,” Jonas said, voice trembling.
The knife wound on Marlen’s side opened and black stuff oozed out to drip on the floor.
“That was … unpleasant,” Marlen said, struggling to his feet. He spat blood on the floor.
Jonas looked up, shocked. “That was the deadliest poison I’ve ever come across.” He raised the knife again.
Marlen steadied himself. “Don’t.” He gave Jonas a dangerous look.
Jonas hesitated.
“I’m disappointed it came to this. I thought better of you,” Marlen said, raising his staff.
“And I, you,” Jonas said, adopting a knife-fighting stance.
*****
“He’s not coming back is he?” Alia said, looking towards the church.
“It doesn’t look like it, no,” Daeholf said gently.
“Then we’ll have to go with our backup plan. Get in the cart,” Alia said unnecessarily firmly.
“This is the worst idea I’ve ever been involved in, and I’ve been in many,” Daeholf said, climbing in and laying prone. Trimas clambered in awkwardly next to him.
“We can’t sneak you two through the guards to the front of the church while you’re in that armour. You clank more than a blacksmith,” Zedek said, climbing up on the cart seat. Alia joined him and started the horse walking.
“Do they clank?” Trimas pondered aloud, trying to get comfortable.
“Besides, it was your plan.”
“That doesn’t stop it being a bad idea. It’s just not the worst option we faced.”
“You’re not the one driving this cart. I have to look these things in the face and lie to them. You just have to lay in the back on a pile of corpses and act dead.”
“Well that won’t be hard, I certainly smell dead.”
Trimas pipped back in. “You’re good at lying, Zedek. Everything thinks you’re human.”
“There’s a difference … actually, there’s no difference, most people would kill me if they discovered I was an elf.”
“Exactly.”
“Do you three plan on arguing all the time?” Alia asked, reins in hand.
“Pretty much. Calms the nerves.”
“It’s common in the military.”
“They do, both of them.”
Alia sighed and shook her head. She wished she was with Jonas and someone who’d take riding into impending doom more seriously.
“On the plus side, at least we don’t have to walk in this armour.”
“How typical of the officer to want to ride everywhere,” Daeholf muttered
“How typical of the footsoldier to want to march everywhere,” Trimas whispered back.
“You do realise,” Alia hissed, “that Jonas might be dead and you’re talking about horses… Again.”
“Calms the nerves…”
“Yes, I heard.”
“Shut up, we’re getting close.”
The cart rattled down the lane, and ahead of them three men stood watching. They didn’t look like seven-foot berserkers, but they were almost certainly Marlen’s altered and the first line in his defence of the church.
The cart pulled to a halt a short distance from them, Alia nodded, and Zedek rolled out his practiced lying voice.
“More bodies for the boss.”
“Good, good, take them in. He’ll probably have you strip them of that armour. Next time just bring in ones with no armour.”
“Will do.”
The cart resumed movement, and they passed the guards. Now they were moving up to the church with a handful of altered busy on either side.
Just keep calm just keep calm… Zedek thought.
Alia guided the cart to the door of the church and stopped. They weren’t sure where the cart was meant to go, but no one was stopping them. No one had guessed their disguise.
The door was two feet away, and Alia slipped off her seat, tapped her hand on the cart and said, “We’re on.”
Two of the corpses, the two wearing head-to-toe sets of full coverage armour, rose with a clank, stepped down and they all went for the door.
*****
A bloodied hand reached out and touched the cold stone as Marlen steadied himself. The feeling was a sharp contrast to the hot fluid that covered his hands, and he began to be aware of his surroundings.
He was stood in his operating theatre, tools spread around him, a body on the slab and a great deal of work done.
But what work?
What had happened?
Think back, before the blackness, before the fog…
Jonas had come here, yes, Jonas, after all these years. Jonas had attacked him…
With poison. A deadly, scything poison which had made Marlen burn, but which he had overcome. Overcome and…
Marlen looked at the body on the slab. Cut open, worked on, but with Jonas’ face.
He’d killed Jonas.
By the gods, he’d killed Jonas and laid him on this slab and … and blacked out?
Not on the ground, not unmoving, he’d blacked out and he’d done something to the corpse. But what? Jonas wasn’t living, or breathing, the corpse hadn’t been healed.
Marlen felt his gorge rising. Had he just mutilated the body? Was that it?
All this time healing, and his lost almost-son returns and they fight, he dies and you do this Marlen? You lose your mind and do this?
Jonas had once accused him of that. And he deserved it.
Deserved every part.
No, and Marlen felt his blood warming up, mind clearing, the shock receding. Jonas didn’t understand, another in a long line of people who distrusted progress. Marlen could heal great wounds, make super warriors, make people better, a
nd Jonas had stood in the way.
If only Jonas had seen…
If only Karina had seen…
Ignore them. The past was very much now just history. He was the future, and wasn’t there a battle on?
Weren’t their rebels who needed his help?
Perhaps he should take more of a command role this time.
But first to wipe the blood off his hands and work out how much time he had.
Turning, there was a blade on the rag, so he picked that up first to move.
Behind him came a loud crash, as the doorway was first pushed open with speed and force, and then slammed shut.
Marlen turned as the wooden spar was dumped into place, effectively sealing the door against the outside.
He was still standing, knife in one hand, covered in blood, when four people entered the room. A young woman, a tall but thin man, and two people in full suits of armour, mismatched and worthy of no imperial accolades.
A young woman? Didn’t Jonas say something about…
Alia looked at the scene with rising anger in her veins. Jonas was laying on a slab looking very dead, his clothes cut away, and something had clearly happened to his body. Something horrible.
Not only was he dead, not only was her mentor murdered by this bastard, his body had been defiled too.
She didn’t want to scream her frustration, she wanted to leap forward and use her knives to slice this man to little pieces. She barely saw his face or his frame, just a man who needed to die immediately.
But she’d been trained, to hold on, keep control, and keep her part of a plan. Three fellows stood beside her and she needed to play her role.
Zedek, Daeholf and Trimas knew they didn’t have long to take this in, but all looked at Marlen to size him up and found their gazes drawn to the murder on the table. Zedek, knowing he was unlikely to get a shot, raised his bow anyway.
Marlen, for his part, took the four in without anger, calmly put the knife down and picked up his staff. He stamped the butt onto the ground, hard. Hand to staff, staff to ground, staff to a puddle of now drying blood, a crackle of energy spread out rapidly, crossing the bloody floor to where the group were standing.
The wave went through the leather boots of Zedek and Alia without stopping, and both reacted as if struck by lightning. Waves of pain shocked them rigid, their nerves on fire, their muscles unresponsive before their legs shook uncontrollably and knees gave out, folding them to the floor.
Dark Healer (An Empire Falls Book 1) Page 63