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Dark Healer (An Empire Falls Book 1)

Page 64

by Harry Leighton


  Daeholf and Trimas, dressed head to toe in metal, felt a tingle but no more, metal-capped toes warming slightly. Both sighed with relief, and were pleased to see Marlen look surprised, and then narrow his eyes.

  He shifted his balance to his back leg and raised the staff, left hand gripping the base and positioned close to his hip, the other mid-way up, aiming the tip like a spear.

  The armoured pair moved forward with no time to spare on concern for their fallen friends. As they closed, Marlen lunged quickly forward, feinting for Daeholf’s head, forcing him to duck back before thrusting the tip of the staff directly into a surprised Trimas’s chest before he could get his shield up to cover. Trimas staggered back a step from the thunderous impact. Daeholf stepped in, swinging to cover him, but his sword was met easily with the staff by a simple twist of the wrists from Marlen. Marlen then countered low, staff angled across his chest, using his body for extra leverage. Daeholf got his shield in the way but it gave an audible crack from the contact.

  Marlen stepped back, body angled with right shoulder forward, posture defensive, smiling at them both, encouraging them on.

  Trimas glanced down at his breastplate. There was a noticeable dent where the staff had made contact. Marlen was strong. Quick and strong. They had a problem. He glanced at Daeholf and saw the worried look in his eyes. He nodded at him and in unspoken agreement they moved a little further apart, looking to come at Marlen from two sides at once. They started to circle, Trimas on the left, Daeholf on the right.

  Wary of Marlen’s speed, Daeholf advanced first, leading with his shield. Marlen whipped the staff into it before quickly turning it back to catch Trimas’s sweep as he looked to take advantage of the opportunity. Marlen kept the swing going, turning the block into a sweep of his own, taking the tip of Trimas’s axe towards the ground, opening him up for a follow-up strike but was forced to block the incoming Daeholf’s sword, quarterstaff style with the butt of his staff. Marlen kept moving, turning and stepping through, passing between Daeholf and Trimas to end up on their other side.

  Zedek started a low chant, mouth moving in a language no one could readily identify, and began to move very slowly, a look of intense concentration mingled with the pain. Marlen glanced back in surprise at the noise that was now coming from behind him and Daeholf and Trimas took the opportunity to press, attacking furiously. Marlen was pushed on the defensive, blocking their strikes high and low, forced into giving a little ground to them.

  Trimas cut high as Daeholf cut low, moves perfectly orchestrated as Marlen used a vertical block. Moving as a pair, he and Daeholf were reading the other’s attacks as if they had been fighting together for years, time spent sparring against each other now put to very different use. Alternating high and low, left and right, Marlen was blocking quickly but with no time to launch any strikes of his own.

  They had him on the run but for how long? Trimas wondered. How long could he keep up this sort of pace in full armour? His axe was starting to feel heavy in his hand as he cut high, this time taking a sliver of wood from Marlen’s staff as he blocked.

  Alia writhed on the ground, fighting a war against her own body. Her muscles were locked and nerves on fire. The pain was unbearable. Through tear-filled eyes she could see Jonas on the slab, arm hanging down lifelessly. It stoked her anger ever higher and she held onto it as tightly as she could, a solid rock in a storm of agony. Slowly but surely, focussed totally on the anger and thoughts of revenge, she started to overcome the pain.

  The nerves and muscles wanted to throb in agony, but she was able to use that anger to overcome them. Slowly she was able to get a limited amount of control back, slowly…

  The smell cut through the war in her body and drew her eyes. On the ground was a small patch of liquid which stank of death…

  Of death?

  Poison. Why it was on the floor she had no idea. Perhaps Jonas had tried to use it and Marlen had been too quick for him. But maybe he had known something about how to defeat Marlen after all.

  She had regained very limited movement but that didn’t matter. You didn’t need to be a brilliant fighter to stab someone in the back with poison, and that her ravaged body could do.

  The fight ahead of her, she bit into her lip, felt the blood begin to flow, and forced herself to her knees and elbows. She dipped a knife in the poison, and saw movement next to her.

  Alia forced one last movement out of her body, pushed herself up and lunged awkwardly, putting the knife deep into Marlen’s back.

  As the knife entered his back, Marlen froze and Daeholf’s sword cut clean through the healer’s right arm below the elbow, sending both arm and staff flying.

  Marlen screamed, stumbling back, Trimas’s follow-up strike narrowly missing him. Marlen continued to back off unsteadily as tendrils of blood and mucus raced from the stump, forming into an arm-like shape. As he backed off, his skin turned pale, red foam leaking from his mouth and blood from his eyes.

  The severed hand grabbed Daeholf’s ankle as he advanced, fingers biting into the armour, and he chopped down at it with his sword.

  Sensing a chance, Trimas moved in close and connected with his axe, severing Marlen’s head cleanly with a spurt of strange blood, head landing with a wet thump a few feet away. Before the body had even hit the floor, tendrils came from the neck, waving their fleshy feelers, and they reached over to where the head lay, inviting reconnection.

  Zedek wobbled over and jammed a spear down into the head, using it to pick it up and throw it into the far corner. Tendrils continued reaching, but the body was growing thinner as the insides were burned away in the attempt. After one last stretch, the feelers went limp and lay spent on the floor. The hand gripping Daeholf’s ankle went slack. He lifted his armoured boot and stomped on it hard to be sure.

  The four of them started breathing again as they saw the body stop moving.

  “What do we do?” Zedek asked.

  “Kill it with fire,” Alia instructed, getting unsteadily to her feet. “We burn it. All. Until there is nothing left but ash. Then we mix the ashes with oil and burn them again. Let’s see him heal back from that.”

  “The doors…”

  Now they could hear nothing, just silence, and their brains were able to get through the small detail of how the door had been hammered on from outside during the fight.

  “The altered were trying to get in.”

  Daeholf removed his helmet, as did Trimas, and was nearest a window so peered out. “They’re all on the ground. Not moving.”

  “We stop Marlen, we stop them. Excellent.”

  “Not really,” Daeholf said. He could see something else out of the window, and now they could all hear quick marching, right up to the barred door.

  “What?” Trimas said.

  With an almighty crack the door was smashed open, and men rushed in. Two held a portable battering ram, all were armed but none had imperial armour.

  Alia and her friends tensed, weapons raised, but the newcomers just looked at them and shouted “Safe”.

  A woman walked through and called, “Jonas, where are you?”

  She found herself looking at Alia and Zedek, who looked at each other.

  “Well?”

  They sadly stood to one side. Now Karina could see Marlen’s shattered body and Jonas’ bloody corpse.

  She didn’t scream or shout or do anything but stare coldly for a long time. Then she turned to the people in the room.

  “General Trimas I recognise of course,” Karina said. “You, I suspect, are Captain Daeholf.” She turned to Zedek. “And unless I very much miss my guess, you're an elf.”

  They looked at her, shocked.

  “Who the hell are you?” Trimas said.

  “A friend.”

  “How do you know us?” Daeholf said.

  “Though he's making an effort at disguise, the general is recognisable to those who have seen him before.” Karina was certain.

  “I'm not a general now. Trimas, please
. And do we know each other?”

  “Not yet.”

  “That explains him,” Daeholf said. “But…”

  “You match the description of a man who distinguished himself in the siege of Vadoz. It's been a while since I read the report but I'm sure you were promoted from sergeant.”

  “Uh…”

  “I'd assume your career continued on a similar trajectory. Though oddly enough, you also bear a passing resemblance to the man who caused all the trouble in Grale.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Daeholf said.

  “Like I said, a friend. Someone who is going to help you.”

  “Those two I sort of understand,” Zedek said. “What makes you think I'm an elf?”

  “I'm sure Jonas told you what happened to me. I did some research. I now know more about your people than almost anyone else in the empire.”

  “With respect, that is not a high standard.”

  “Believe me, I'd love to talk, though I'd imagine that would make you rather uncomfortable given what Marlen made me. But we don't have time. You are Jonas's friends.” She paused, looking at the body. “Were Jonas’s friends. That makes you my friends. And that means I have a responsibility to get you clear before the Emperor arrives.”

  “What?!” Trimas exclaimed.

  “It seems he wasn't happy about the rebellion and even less about how Garrow handled it. I don't think two wanted men and an elf in the vicinity are going to help things calm down.”

  “The Emperor is coming here?” Daeholf said.

  “No more than a couple of hours behind me,” Karina said.

  “He’ll crush the revolt.”

  “Already been done,” Karina informed them. “The imperial army rallied better and staged a night attack. Swept through the rebels. The army is scattered, prisoners are taken, resistance is ended. And the Emperor will want a detailed report.”

  “How do you know all this?” Alia said, moving to stand with the trio.

  “Alia. I'm so sorry,” Karina said. “When I got Jonas's letter I got here as fast as I could.” She looked at Jonas again. “It will haunt me for the rest of my days that it was not quick enough.”

  “How do you know me too?” Alia said, visibly struggling to hold back her emotions.

  “Whilst I already knew Jonas had an apprentice, he spoke of you at length in his letter. He wanted me to take care of you if anything went wrong.”

  “Sounds like him. But I'm not an apprentice anymore. I can take care of myself.”

  “You're one of us,” Trimas said softly. Daeholf put a hand on her shoulder. She shook it off gently.

  “Thanks,” she said, a little tremble in her voice. She cleared her throat. “But I'll be fine,” she said firmly.

  “Come with me and we'll lay Jonas to rest properly,” Karina said to her. “What comes after that can wait a while.”

  “We want to be there for that,” Daeholf said. Trimas and Zedek nodded.

  “I'm sorry boys, but you don't have time. I need to get you clear now.”

  “Clear to where?” Daeholf said.

  “I think we can help each other,” Karina said. “You can help me with a problem I'm having some distance from here. I can get you away and set you up with some funds.”

  “How do we know that we can trust you?” Trimas said.

  “Jonas trusted me so I hope you can do the same. That and I'm not turning you in to the Emperor for what would probably be a substantial reward.”

  “It wouldn't be that much,” Trimas said.

  “You'd be surprised,” Karina said. “And for you too,” she said to Daeholf. “The hierarchy are rather upset at what you did in Grale.”

  “Can't prove that was me,” Daeholf said calmly.

  “There are people who’d like to ask you questions though. Especially General Kasek.”

  A dangerous look entered Daeholf's eyes. Karina nodded.

  “You'll have to learn to hide it better than that, Captain. Though I actually agree with what you did in the circumstances.”

  Daeholf forced himself to relax. “It seems we don’t have a lot of choice.”

  “Not a lot, no. I’ll brief my men outside. You’d better say your goodbyes for now.” She backed off and left, bodyguards in tow.

  “One day we’re all going to have a very long conversation,” Alia said.

  *****

  “I thought we were leaving?” Alia asked.

  “We are,” Daeholf explained, “but we want to see the field first.”

  “Why?”

  “We were soldiers. Seeing what happened after, burning it into your mind, is vital if you’re not going to believe the songs and stories.”

  “I thought soldiers sang those.”

  “You only believe them until the first time. Then you’re trying to tell yourself they’re true. Then you get to where we are, and you need to know the truth.”

  They crested a low hill to find themselves on the spot where Garrow had stood the day before. Ahead of them was a large tree, and every branch had at least one corpse hanging from it.

  “Storn,” Trimas whispered, looking at the man’s twisted neck and purple face.

  “And these?” Zedek asked.

  “The rebel council apparently.”

  Ahead of them, hanging in the breeze, where the corpses of Julen, Larly, Gaken, Lavine and the Chairman. Even Makern had not escaped.

  “Did we do this?” Zedek asked, this time in a hushed voice.

  “Maybe,” Daeholf forced himself to concede. “Maybe we did. But it was necessary.”

  “You agree with them then, more than the imperials?”

  Daeholf wasn’t sure he wanted his friend to point that out. “We did but … but Marlen was using them. He engineered this out of chances we gave him. We had to stop him. This time the rebels had to lose. If we’d let a new empire of those berserkers begin…”

  “We had to do it,” Trimas agreed, “but we shouldn’t stop feeling shit about it. You have to be honest about your actions.”

  They all turned and stared out over the battlefield.

  They were silent for a while, before Daeholf turned to Alia. “What will you do?”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Bounty hunt. I’ve been trained. I'd like to think I'm good at it, or will be. Time to do it.”

  “You could come with us if you want?” Trimas offered.

  Alia shook her head. “Thanks but … I want to set out on my own. Maybe I’ll take my own apprentice in the future.”

  “Understood. But what will you do the rest of the day?”

  “Will I speak to Karina?”

  “Yes.”

  “I … will. But … I don’t trust her.”

  “Neither do we.”

  “I’m not surprised. Okay, enough memory making, we need to be gone.”

  *****

  Guards surrounded the old governor’s palace in a ring two deep. They wore the most ornate armour the citizens had ever seen, and would have been hugely tall had the area not just experienced seven-foot maniacs charging about.

  In the middle of this ring, in the governor’s state rooms, on a throne which had been carted especially, the emperor sat, in full regal dress and with a sword at his side encrusted with more jewels than the rebels had planned to steal.

  “Thank you for answering my questions,” the chancellor said to a man standing in the middle of the room. “Please wait outside.”

  Vance nodded and marched out of the chamber.

  The emperor was now alone with his chancellor, barring a couple of scribes.

  “Where did you dig him up from?” the emperor asked.

  “He came to us.”

  “Do we trust him?”

  “No, of course not, Your Highness, except everything he told us has corroboration from the other reports we have collected.”

  “Which means the guard really did get full of themselves and start a war, and over a corrupted healer.”

&nb
sp; The chancellor paused. “He didn’t say…”

  “I have other reports. So, the condition of the rebellion.”

  “Broken. The army scattered, the leaders dead, their will broken. They are running back to their farms and their villages to hide.”

  “Good. And the healer is dead.”

  “Other reports?”

  “Indeed. Which just leaves us with Garrow.”

  “He crushed the rebellion.”

  “He did. He did. But he marched a legion to war against its own people without the emperor’s permission. I find that problematic. And unfortunately for him I am the emperor.”

  He raised a finger, and a scribe stepped forward from the back of the room. The chancellor noted that this scribe hadn’t written anything down.

  Not one thing.

  “Garrow is going to have an accident. Upset rebels. He won’t recover.”

  The emperor hadn’t taken his gaze from the chancellor. “Now, we will need a new governor.”

  Continued in…

  Knives Of Bastion

 

 

 


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