A Dark Tyranny

by C. M. Pendleton

  “Wait. Stop,” ordered Gerald.

  Gerald approached the horse. It pawed at the ground in anticipation. He pulled the old man by the arm. The soldiers reacted to keep the man from falling to the ground. They held him up and looked at Gerald with confusion. Gerald pulled himself atop the horse and looked down at the men.

  “Bring the commander and the other one to the king. That is an order. If you do not have them, I wouldn't bother returning,” ordered Gerald.

  The soldiers did not know how to react. They looked at Captain Eaves.

  “Let him go,” ordered Captain Eaves.

  Gerald kicked the horse. Matthias' greatsword bounced on Gerald's back like a child playing with his father's things. The horse jumped forward like a bolt of lightning and galloped into the night.

  “He would have left us regardless. At least this way, he did not get any of us killed in the process,” said Captain Eaves.

  Howls were heard to the south. The sounds of beasts running and snarling echoed in the darkness. The soldiers looked around the camp with their weapons in hand. They could hear the wolves circling them. The darkness was filled with frantic breathing and growling. The soldiers were unnerved by the howling. It was deafening.

  “Stay together,” said Captain Eaves.

  “Cut me loose,” said Matthias.

  “They let the others go. They are heading back to the castle. There's another here though,” Karl yelled into the night. However, his words were cut short. Luras' blades sank into the man's chest. He coughed and fell to the ground looking incredulously at Luras. Blood began to pool around him.

  One of the soldiers approached Matthias. The soldier lowered his crossbow and began to fumble with the knotted twine. He kept looking back out into the night with each howl or snarl. The soldier cursed while pulling at the knots.

  “Calm yourself. What are you doing? Cut it,” said Matthias. The man reached to his waist for his sword.

  “There!” yelled Captain Eaves.

  Suddenly, two wolves charged out of the darkness. One of the wolves leapt at a soldier that was fumbling with his crossbow. It bit down hard on the man's neck and jawline. Bone cracked, as the soldier screamed and pushed at the beast. Its teeth tore through bone and flesh with ease. The man's screams became muffled and then nothing. The beast stood on two legs and snarled at the men with a frantic savagery. It reached out for Luras with its black claws. It swung trying to rake its talons across his chest. Luras pivoted backwards causing the wolf to lean forward. Luras brought one saber down cleaving the beast's arm off. It yelled out in terror and jumped towards Luras in a frenzy. Luras had already begun to follow with his other saber. It sank deeply into the beast's leg. He twisted the blade free severing muscle and bone. The creature fell to one side. Captain Eaves struck the beast through the chest. It dropped to the ground in a lifeless heap.

  The second wolf locked eyes with the soldier trying to free Matthias. It ripped at the ground with its legs, as it ran towards them. The soldier stopped trying to free Matthias and grabbed his crossbow in a panic. His breathing was loud and sounded like staccato screams. The wolf was at him before he could release the bolt. It hit him like a bull knocking him to the ground. The soldier was dazed. Everything spun around him and his stomach turned. He felt a stinging pain. A crossbow bolt jutted out from his leg. The soldier screamed reaching for his sword. The wolf sank its claws into his leg and pulled him past Matthias and towards the darkness surrounding the camp. The man scrambled and screamed. He grabbed at the grass but it tore away in his hands. The men could hear him screaming in the night, as the wolf snarled and tore at his flesh. It howled loudly in the shadows.

  “Cut me free!” yelled Matthias. Captain Eaves cut Matthias' binds. Matthias quickly grabbed a sword from the dead soldier. He took another sword from the weapons surrendered by the bandits.

  Ellison felt his skin growing hot. His head began to throb with pain, but he grew a clarity to his senses.

  I can hear them.

  “Skin Slavers. They're coming,” Ellison said.

  Ellison's body ached. His muscles felt sore and burned with fatigue. He fell to one knee holding his stomach.

  They’re coming. Men and wolves.

  “Are you hurt?” asked Luras.

  “I don't know,” replied Ellison. “Keep them away from me. They have wolves with them. Keep them away.”

  “I don’t see anyone,” said Captain Eaves.

  “These men are with them,” Matthias said, motioning to the captured bandits.

  Captain Eaves walked towards the bandits with his swords in hand.

  “No!” yelled one of the outlaws.

  “Wait!” yelled Luras.

  The outlaws stood to run but they had nowhere to go. Captain Eaves struck them down quickly. He made sure each was dead. Luras looked at the dead bandits. He saw the look of shock and terror on their faces. Their bodies were contorted and spilling over each other. Luras stared at Captain Eaves with disbelief. He looked at all the men around him, Matthais, Captain Eaves, and three soldiers standing over the corpses of the men. One wolf laid dead beside them.

  “They made their choice when they took those captives. The king would have killed them … or the slavers would have taken them too. They would have drawn against us the moment they charged in here,” Captain Eaves said to Luras.

  “He is right, Luras,” whispered Matthias. “We are already out manned.”

  Two more wolves emerged from the darkness. This time they did not run towards the men. They were also not alone.

  “Skin Slavers,” said one of the soldiers.

  “Don't give them time to plan. Any chance of survival we have is to keep them off balance,” warned Matthias.

  Three Skin Slavers left the shadows and began to approach the men. One of the wolves flanked them on each side. The slavers were armed with swords that were sheathed in cured skin that had been heavily oiled. Two of the slavers wore leather cuirasses that were adorned with flayed skin from their victims' hands. The skin had been dyed black, brown, and a faded purple. The slaver in the middle carried a long staff with a scalp stretched over the top. Long black matted hair draped down the staff. His teeth had been filed to points, which caused the pulp and roots to be exposed on some of his teeth. His gums and teeth had begun to rot in places. Some teeth hung from gums in thin strands. He wore a tunic woven from the chests of other men. The slavers had a putrid odor of decay that followed them. They looked at Luras with astonishment and a sick desire. The slavers spoke to one another in a garbled speech. One of the slavers motioned towards Ellison, while he spoke to the others. Luras walked towards the slavers.

  The slaver with the staff looked at Luras. He spoke to the others in a garbled tone, while he turned his head like a confused dog. The slaver started to speak in the language of the realms. It was sloppy and distorted, but the words were audible. The slaver grinned and laughed, as he spoke to Luras and the others. He looked at them as if they were already dead. He did not see them; he only saw their skin.

  “There is nowhere to run,” the slaver said with a grin. He motioned to the darkness around the camp. “We are everywhere. You can ...”

  His words were suddenly cut off. Luras sank both his blades into the slaver's neck. He crossed the blades and the slaver's head fell to the ground. The other two slavers reached for their swords, while the two wolves charged towards Matthias and the others. Luras kicked one slaver sending him to his knees. He then pivoted back twisting his sabers and slicing through the other slaver's chest and neck. The slaver grasped at the wound on his chest and fell. The slaver on the ground began to yell out to the others. Screams of rage and anger spilled out of the darkness. Other slavers ran towards the camp.

  Ellison rolled on the ground in pain. His insides twisted. He felt sick to his stomach, but it was more than that. He could feel his stomach moving. His bones felt weak, while his skin burned. He gagged as if he was going to vomit, but instead his shoulders dislocated. Then h
is legs and arms pulled themselves out of joint. He felt his skin moving; it was stretching. Ellison yelled out in pain, but he did not hear his voice. He heard a deep roar within his gut. He saw Captain Eaves look down at him in shock.

  “Matthias!” yelled Captain Eaves.

  An anger brewed inside of Ellison. He needed help. He was hurting. But the wolves and slavers were trying to overtake them. Ellison thought of the lake and the slaughter of women, children, families - his friends. He thought of his brother. He thought of Malvern and the locked gate. He longed for Malvern's death. Ellison did not know if he was shaking from rage or pain. He was seering with anger. Suddenly, he could see the two wolves that had been with the slavers. They leapt at Matthias and Captain Eaves. One of the wolves hit into Captain Eaves like a galloping horse, knocking him down on the ground. The other jumped towards Matthias but it darted back, out of the way of his blade. Ellison saw Luras with both his sabers in hand. He stood looking at the Skin Slavers that were gathering around them. Ellison had been unable to stop his brother, Malvern, the assault on Timball, or the massacre at the lake. Now, these Skin Slavers. Suddenly, Ellison sprung to his feet. He grabbed the wolf that was standing over Captain Eaves. He slammed it into the ground feeling its bones break. The wolf snarled and yelped. Ellison bit down hard on the wolf's neck. He could taste its blood and fur. The wolf cried out. Ellison felt the wolf's throat loosen and fill with blood. The other wolf stood in momentary confusion, as it looked at Ellison. Everyone seemed to stop. Ellison leapt at the other wolf. He dug his claws deeply into the chest of the beast. Ribs and muscle tore as he sank his claws into the wolf. It snarled and bit at Ellison in vain. Its breathing was already labored. Air escaped from its chest. Ellison stood over the wolf and cried out in anger. He heard the sound of another wolf. However, this wolf was himself.

  Matthias looked at the enormous white beast that stood before him. It was a Storm Wolf. A creature of enormous size with pale red eyes. Its snow colored fur bristled and swayed in the wind like the grass below them. Its hulking frame slowly raised and lowered with each snarling breath. The wolf's breath heated the air around it. It stood on two legs. Like the others, it was capable of running on two legs or all four. Blood dripped from his mouth spilling onto white fur. Its claws were wet with blood. The wolf arched its muscled back and howled.

  “Are you there, friend?” asked Matthias, looking into the eyes of the white Storm Wolf.

  Nearly twenty Skin Slavers stood motionless around the perimeter of the camp. They stared at the great white wolf looming before them. They called out to each other in their garbled black speech. There were no more wolves with them. The three Storm Wolves lay dead in the camp, along with the outlaws and Skin Slavers. Matthias helped Captain Eaves to his feet, all the while keeping Ellison in his sight. Suddenly, Ellison ran towards the shadows. He dug his claws across two slavers and slammed into another. They fell like straw men. He disappeared into the shadows. The slavers yelled to one another. Half of them pursued Ellison into the night. The remaining slavers ran towards Luras and the others. One of the soldiers hit a slaver with a bolt from a crossbow. It landed in his chest sending him backwards. Matthias cleaved one of the Skin Slavers with both blades. Luras darted from a sword and countered taking the arm from one slaver and slicing the leg open of another. Captain Eaves kicked a slaver to the ground, while a soldier shot a crossbow bolt towards another. The same soldier swung wildly with his sword. A slaver dodged his blade and it caught Matthias in his side. Matthias felt the cold sting of the blade cut through part of his hip. His tunic grew wet with blood. He turned to strike out and saw the soldier.

  “Are you trying to kill me?!?! Aim away from me!” yelled Matthias.

  The soldier looked at Matthias and started to speak but stopped, not knowing how to respond. Instead, he swung at an approaching skin-slaver. Luras caught the slaver as he passed with his blade. Two slavers swung wildly at Matthias. He parried their blows with ease. He sliced through one of their hands. The slaver grabbed his hand and yelled in pain. Matthias struck the slaver through the gut. The other slaver swung again, but missed Matthias. Instead, he turned and ran.

  “These are not fighters. They barely know how to use their weapons,” said Matthias.

  “I believe their strength lies in numbers and the wolves. They split their party,” replied Captain Eaves.

  Luras twisted and parried two blows with both ease and grace. He countered by slicing through one slaver's thigh and, as he fell, brought the other blade up across the slaver's neck. Luras swung both sabers at once severing another slavers arm and opening his chest. Luras' skin was a dull translucent red. He seemed oblivious to the men around him. He was aware of only himself and the slavers around him. The remaining two slavers ran back to the darkness. A soldier began to notch another bolt into his crossbow.

  “Let them go,” said Matthias. “We need to move before the others return.”

  “That man turned himself into a wolf. I seen it, just as you. He done it right in front of us,” said a soldier.

  “I don't think it was purposeful,” replied Captain Eaves.

  “I hope they don't catch him,” said the soldier.

  “They should hope they don't catch him. They could barely hold a sword to us. We shouldn't be here. Any decent army would have had their way with us,” replied Matthias.

  “His name was Ellison. Was it not?” asked Luras.

  “The brother of the traitor king of the east. They say his brother lied to his people and let them die, while the army retreated to Castle Horos,” said Captain Eaves.

  “Come north with us,” said Matthias.

  “You can join with the Acolytes,” said Luras.

  “There is a problem there. I am not an Acolyte,” replied Captain Eaves.

  “The king will consider you a traitor,” said Matthias.

  “I do not plan on returning,” said Captain Eaves. “You two may return. I do not think you will be held responsible for any of this.”

  “I will stay with you,” replied a soldier. The other agreed.

  “All of you come,” said Luras.

  “We aren't Acolytes, Luras. It's not our calling to journey north. I'm sure there's a resistance somewhere. We'll find it. Don't worry yourself with us. You two go north. You can be there by morning if you walk through the night,” replied Captain Eaves.

  “If you change your mind, you know where to find us,” said Matthias.

  “I will follow the multitude of blue light,” said Captain Eaves.

  “Good luck,” said Luras.

  “What is your name?” asked Matthias.

  “Xander. I am Xander Eaves,” said Captain Eaves.

  “Good luck, Xander,” replied Matthias.

  “And to you both,” said Xander.

  Chapter 27

  The Land of Karth

  The air had grown cooler. The dirt slowly gave way to grass covered hills. The sun was at its highest and very few clouds were in the sky. Red and brown leaves swirled and danced in the air, as a light breeze blew across the foothills. The great falcon soared high above the tops of the trees and rocks. Fin and the others made their way over the rolling hills of the Northern Realm. Finn walked beside Borman Thyn. Torin's wounds were bandaged, but he still walked carefully and held one hand over the wound. Gilnor and Dord walked with Torin. They chewed on strips of dried deer meat, while they helped their friend.

  “I'm fine. Leave me be,” said Torin, grumbling.

  “I fear your body isn't,” replied Gilnor. “Your stubbornness would keep walking long after your body is dead and stone.”

  “We should stop for a while. Allow him to rest,” Dord said to the others.

  The group stopped by a large rock that jutted from the side of a hill. It was as if half the grass covered hill had been removed leaving a rocky skeleton in its wake. Torin sat down in the grass leaning back against the rock. He looked at his bandages; blood was soaked through and began to drip down his leg. Torin felt
the wound with his fingers. It wasn't closing. He sighed angrily.

  “One of you will have to sew this,” said Torin. “It is not rotten … just bleeding.”

  “I will do it,” said Gilnor.

  “Let him sew it and give me a moment to sleep. We can still walk more before nightfall,” said Torin.

  “We'll need a fire for this,” said Gilnor.

  Gilnor laid out his pack and began to sort through its contents. He removed a leather skin and opened it over the grass. He placed a needle, a pair of metal claps, and a spool of thin leather thread upon it. Dord began gathering sticks and branches for the fire. He laid them down long ways over the grass, and began to stack the others vertically making a small triangle-shaped campfire. The rock was against the wind, which kept the breeze at bay. Dord used flint and steel to start a fire. He stoked it with some dried leaves, lightly blowing and cultivating the flame. Gilnor placed the needle and the metal clamps into the edge of the fire.

  “Boil some water for these,” said Gilnor, as he tossed some thick woolen bandages to Dord.

  “Do you want a branch or leather strap …?” Dord asked Torin.

  “How about four of your damned fingers,” said Torin. “I'm no child. This isn't the first time I've been cut, clapped, or threaded. Bastard gorgon. Lizard bastard.”

  “Come. Let's leave them to this,” Borman said to Finn.

  “And you, tell your damned bird I ain't dead. Last thing I want is something pecking at my innards while he stitches them up,” Torin said to Finn.

  “I'm afraid he doesn't peck,” retorted Finn.

  “Well … you never know,” said Torin.

  “You won't feel it if he does,” said Finn.

  “Come,” said Borman.

  Borman and Finn left the camp and wandered amongst the grassy foothills and rock. The breeze was cool and moist. It felt good against their skin and lifted Finn's spirit. Borman took a wooden pipe from a pouch that hung along his leather belt. It was made of bright yellow yew and was heavily polished. A water dragon was etched into the wood. Its tail started at the tip of the pipe, while its body and neck stretched along the stem and shaft. The two heads of the water dragon lifted up to the bowel of the pipe. Borman took a pinch of dried leaves from the pouch and placed it into the bowl.