Take the Darkness...: Epic Fantasy Series (Dark Gods & Tainted Souls Book 2)

by Julius Schenk

‘But what’s he like, better or worse?’ Goldie asked.

  ‘Better and worse in ways. He’s a soldier and a killer, but not a women hating shit like the current. He’s bone mercenary and he was born on the road. He’ll be a thorn in the side of the country, but not us. He’ll do what he says.’ Skinner said.

  ‘Good, he’ll do, we need to stand behind someone. Anyone else?’ asked Goldie.

  A few other men spoke up and named men and the small factions that they controlled within the larger body of men. She’d never heard of such an un-united group as they were discussing. The Cold Death had leaders and captains, but they followed Dagosh only.

  ‘I’ve got a good one.’ Said the only other women in the tent, and Josette didn’t even know she was a girl until she spoke. Her face was scarred and battered, but she would have been pretty once.

  ‘You’ve got Pellosi and Cravossi in high numbers, the desert faction, a few Northman, and a handful of women, but one thing that unites them is that you’ve got more than half of them done more than ten years in this worthless fucking group, and all of them captains done similar,’ she said in a slow drawling voice.

  ‘And what’s that mean to me?’ Goldie said with a sweet smile to the scarred women.

  ‘The history of this group is that they were once feared, they were a force of ten thousand that made kings and smashed dukes and now they are known as cut-throats and looters. I reckon you can fire their hearts on regaining their name, especially behind that man Farirkar.’

  Goldie clapped his hands together. ‘Sweet little holly, I think you’ve sealed it. I’ll need you to tell me all you know of their once glorious history. Okay, boys, we’re into it now. Let’s get moving, and if it all goes to shit we storm the tent and just kill as many as we can. We all ready to die?’ he asked.

  His motley group just nodded. Josette let Goldie take her by the hand and lead her to the side. ‘You’ll be in the guise of a prisoner, of course, but we’ll let you take him; after I kill his leadership, you kill the body,’ he promised.

  ‘I will do it, but Goldie, how did you get this rabble of scum to fight like this? They are the bottom rung, beggars some,’ she said.

  ‘You know well, little sister, you can only kick someone so long before they kick back.’

  Chapter 42

  The Wolvern and Silver were mere dots ahead of them in the distance and he walked along at a slower pace than he was used to with Seraphina; they had three days of travel ahead of them through what he was told was very hostile territory. Between the city of the former children of the Moon and the sea were packed all the creatures that they wouldn’t let within their walls, and the things that they fed on. This was such a vicious world and it seemed like there was no end to the predators killing each other.

  Seth turned to Seraphina. She looked like when he had first seen her, a pretty refined blonde girl with deadly eyes. She’d grown harder here, and more so in the last few days. He felt a lot of guilt towards what he had done to her; yes, she had tried to kill him, but it hadn’t been personal – he was just the quarry, the target. What he’d done to her had ruined her whole existence. Hard to find the words to fix that, especially for him, who wasn’t that used to expressing himself.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He said as they walked through the soft falling snow.

  Seraphina kept walking, but looked at him with her pale blue eyes and laughed. ‘An hour of silence and the best you can come up with is ‘sorry,’’ she said.

  He laughed back half-heartedly. ‘Sorry I ruined your life and made you go without washing your hair and ordering around your servants,’ he said.

  She laughed again, but this time with bitterness in her voice. ‘Try sorry I ruined your life, made you live like an animal eating the bodies of dead bats and dogs, and killed everyone you ever loved,’ she said.

  The silence stretched out between them again. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said, trying to show he really did feel it.

  ‘It’s fine, I’ve killed you a hundred times already in my visions and it’s made me feel a lot better. To be honest, I have very mixed feelings about you, but hatred is fighting a losing battle,’ she said.

  He felt cheered by that, they were all having to swallow old hurts and move on with what allies they could find in this cold land.

  ‘The fact is, Seth, you were like a whirlwind or a raging animal, you ripped through the world destroying anything that stood in your path. I got myself into your path, hell, I hunted you down and threw myself into your path. I would have killed you in a heartbeat, you were just the better fighter,’ she said.

  ‘Not now,’ he replied.

  She laughed again. ‘No, not now.’ He saw her image fade and realised she was actually behind him as she pressed a blade into his back. She’d been behind him the whole time. She laughed out loud and then rejoined his side. ‘It makes me able to forgive you because I know I could destroy you,’ she said.

  ‘So I’m like the bug under your heel?’ He asked

  She smiled back. ‘That’s right, little boy, but you’re a bug we need, and you do have your moments that make me hate you less.’

  ‘I do?’ He asked with surprise.

  ‘I saw you save her from those who would have defiled her, running in like the idiot you are to get killed rather than watch someone you don’t even like that much suffer that; if we’d met under different circumstances, you would have made a good servant or bodyguard,’ she said.

  ‘Well thank you very much, lady Seraphina,’ he said with a mock bow.

  ‘It’s Sera-phi-na, not Sarafeener: you should learn to speak correctly you Northern barbarian,’ she said with a laugh.

  ‘What, like you, little dove?’ He asked.

  She turned to him with a deadly look. ‘I’m trying to like you, but don’t ever, ever use Stephen’s words again.’

  Chapter 43

  The lovely woman stood in front of him as he surged with power. He’d taken at least twenty people into him and he knew he’d be more than a match for anyone, even her. If she was who he thought she was. The name Minsetta rolled in his head and was a mix of stories from Seth and tales and rumours that came up from the minds of the Dark Guards he’d just taken. She was a legendary killer and priestess for them, not one of them, but an ally or enemy depending on the year. To Seth, she was the lost love who had been moved against him, but who probably just used him as a puppet. Looking at her, Grimm didn’t think it would be that bad to be used by her.

  ‘You’ve probably noticed by now, that this circle is broken,’ she said, pointing to the badly placed bone and a small skull. ‘You should fix that quickly.’

  ‘I can see it’s broken, but why would you want me to fix it?’ He asked, but as he said the words he bent down and swapped the positions of the two objects, and saw the air thrum with power. If she’d let him fix his mistake, he’d accept. He flooded with relief that he now didn’t have to fight her.

  ‘Well, our little friend Elizebetha will be along in a moment and given I tried – oh, not tried, but was paid to kill her – she’ll have one of her tantrums if she sees me able to walk around,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure this is much safer,’ Grimm said darkly.

  She laughed back. ‘Well, appearances matter, Grimm, and I want to talk to you without hearing her whining voice in our ears,’ she said sweetly.

  ‘How do you know my name, we’ve never met…’ he said.

  ‘I’ve spent a lot of time in Seth’s mind until recently, and knew the sound of your voice. Lucky for you I did come, as you put out the call to anything at all and you left your circle open. Instead of my lovely self, you could have easily got a pack of those ugly black muts,’ she said, ‘so what do you have to say?’

  ‘Thank you?’ he said questioningly.

  ‘My pleasure, Grimm, now...’

  Grimm turned suddenly, and behind him was Elizebetha and a group of the Cold Death soldiers led by Dagosh. Her face was bright red and clearly she’d run from the
battlements. In the circle, the woman Minsetta actually sighed at her appearance and then put on a fake smile, Grimm almost laughed. The soliders of the Cold Death had bows drawn and arrows pointed at them both, Dagosh had his sword drawn.

  Before Elizebetha could open her shocked mouth, he turned on the soldiers. ‘She’s my prisoner and if any of you touch her I’ll have you flogged; you, Jenson, lower your weapon, your grip is shit and I already see the arrow slipping.’

  The soldier in question lowered his bow again with a look of relief and said, ‘yes, Captain.’

  Elizebetha stepped forward to assert herself and some control of the situation, but Grimm could see she was still reeling and he really had no time for her; he just wanted to talk to the woman and find out what she knew about Seth. He’d been so lost without him. He was a simple man, and following the Druheim was a noble cause – now he was just a paid soldier for a Duchess who annoyed him.

  ‘Everyone calm down, just tell us what you’ve done, and why is Minsetta of all people here?’ She asked.

  He hated her choice of words. Not ‘what’s going on’ or ‘what’s the plan’, just ‘what have you done’, not finishing the sentence and asking what have you done wrong, as if this act alone was a forgone conclusion and all that needed attention.

  ‘What I’ve done is something. I’m not just waiting to die and watching all my men get slaughtered,’ he said, pointing to the men. ‘I meant to call the Wolvern, but got her, and look, she knows about Seth so it’s a good thing, really,’ he said.

  ‘She’s a killer, she tried to kill me and Seth, and she’s killed hundreds more and worse...’ Her words trailed off as she saw for the first time what stood at Minsetta’s feet. She stood barefoot in a pool of blood that slipped out from the broken bodies of the black sash guards.

  ‘You took them? That was your plan? To take what wasn’t yours, and she is just the instrument?’ Elizebetha cried, ‘all of you go, now,’ and Dagosh led the soldiers away from the strange scene. Grimm could see they were at a loss for what was happening, and the thought he had snuck some woman into the Keep.

  ‘I did and I would again, I’m strong now and I can fight this fight better than before; you and Seth do it, and why shouldn’t I?’ He asked, ‘did you cry when Seth saved you again and again with his stolen powers? When we used our stolen skill at the bow to win this Keep for you? You’re a hypocrite and now I know that fucking word cause I just learned that proper label for you for the first time in my life,’ he spat.

  She looked at him sadly. ‘Oh Grimm, don’t you see it’s the path to corruption? You do it with good intentions to begin, to help save your friends and family, but then it takes you over.’

  Minsetta spoke up for the first time after watching them squabble like children. ‘Really, Elizebetha, you do go on so much. I know what Seth has been up to and I’ll tell you. I’ll be a good girl and not try to escape from this cage, and I’ll help you save your darling little pile of rocks here, as well,’ she said as if to a child.

  ‘And why would you do that?’ She asked, still fuming with rage.

  ‘Because I know the Druheim when I see one.’

  The lucky lady was a Pellosi goddess, but Goldie had always felt an affection for her. He’d grown up in the streets of Pelloss city, to a trader father and a Northern mother. His mother had been a slave to begin with, but his father soon fell in love with the strong woman and they popped out a litter of little brats to help him run his trade stall in the markets. His father was a shrewd man and had one child every two years so that he would always have some good free labour around; it was better than slavery because there was so much love. So much love that Goldie ran away at twelve.

  The lucky lady was like a big sister to him, and he’d taken to living on the steps of her temple in Pellosi, it was there that he learned that she had indeed blessed him. Games of chance and the like were legal inside the temple, and he made his first coins there. He never had to pick pocket: he cheated men fairly. He also learned to fight there, some people were sore when they realised they had just been cheated out of their weekly bread money by some kid of 13, when they’d thought they’d just beat him and take it back. Bad luck for them, he’d taken his fill of beatings already and was reluctant to take more.

  She shined on him again tonight in this endeavour against low hope that he’d actually find Josette. When Skinner had brought the skinny figure into his tent with a bag over her head, he knew. Little sister was back and now his plan would work fully. He knew he could turn the Bastards against their current ‘King’; all he needed was an invite to the dinner, and now he had one.

  ‘Don’t be scared,’ he said to her as he pushed her forward through the throng of men and towards the main command tent. It was a huge affair and he could hear heated voices yelling and swearing inside, which was a good sign.

  ‘I’m not scared,’ Josette said back. ‘I trust you, sort of.’ She was starting to trust him. He was wicked, devious, and without morals, but it looked like he was on their side – he’d made sure of that, now – and he thanked the lady for that.

  As they approached the tent and were stopped by the two rough guards with red sashes on their arms, Goldie pulled the hood off of her head with a flourish. ‘A gift for the king,’ he bellowed out loudly.

  The men on the door laughed loudly: they had heard of her apparently. Without more than that, they walked into the tent. Goldie, Josette bound with her hands behind back very loosely, Skinner, and two other men. The old dark skinned one and the Cravossi girl with a scarred face.

  Inside, the tent was huge. There was a massive fire in the middle of the room and around it sat close to twenty men. They sat on rough wooden stools and had their faces painted with red stripes. Goldie saw at the top of the circle were three bigger chairs which held none other than King Bastard, the man Farirkar, and a stern looking black desert man.

  He’d not seen Farirkar before, but felt relief when he saw the man. He was a monster. A Pellosi but with a huge frame, bare chest covered in scars and a long crest of hair that stuck up in the air, with what looked like blood. Clearly, it was a ceremony of some kind to bless the battle. They were a long standing group and had all sorts of strange traditions. Goldie had spent time travelling with men like this, selling them things and looting: he liked them, they were easy to grasp.

  Everyone stopped when he entered, and drew swords. He was a wanted man by the Duchess and had just walked into their tent. Good luck for them. Goldie walked through unfazed, pushing Josette before him.

  ‘A gift for the King,’ he bellowed again, and they all looked at him as he pushed her to the ground so her hands were facing the fire and not anyone else.

  The men had stopped their argument, which was clearly between the King Bastard and the man Farirkar; the Bastard had no face paint and wasn’t drinking as the rest were. It looked like blood wine. Fucking savages, Goldie thought.

  The King Bastard looked relieved to defer the conflict. ‘Oh look, men, our friend the Northern has come back and brought us a pre-battle snack,’ he said, and some laughed. Goldie cast his eye around the group. There were around six people laughing. He looked back at Skinner and got a nod in return. He’d marked them, as well: good man, that one.

  ‘On the eve of your victory, I wanted to see if I could buy some favour with this gift for you, King,’ he said.

  The Bastard walked up to Josette and looked into her green eyes. She looked back and spat in his pretty face. She wouldn’t be meek about it. ‘Ah my sweet girl, finally, after so long I’ll get to slip my dagger into you… how nice,’ he turned to Goldie. ‘Still, you are a valuable man and I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere.’

  ‘Oh no? How about a drink, first, then? I love blood wine.’ He said, and before they could say ‘no’ he took a goblet from one of the men and started drinking it.

  ‘I know a lot about your history, you know. I mean, that’s why I tried to hire you all. The Red Bastards, fifty years of history
!’ He raised the glass and a few drank, and then King Bastard sat down and let him go on. Goldie could see the annoyance in his face, but he dared not interrupt a toast to them. ‘Glorious history: forty years ago, you were led by the man himself, the Red Bastard, victory at Saltwater Plains and the valley deep!’ He raised his glass again and toasted, and more this time joined him. ‘Then came the fearsome Holgrave, he did twenty years by you, and you smashed the Cravossi King on the beach of Dakar and installed a new one! You burned his fleet! Ten thousand strong you were, red faced all, charging the beaches, and I’ve heard half the Cravossi army still shit their pants if they see a red face!’ They laughed along and toasted with him. He could feel it. He looked to Farirkar, who had never seen him before, but was judging him now. Goldie winked at the man, much to his surprise.

  ‘And now, my friends, your glorious army of a thousand will join forces with the weaklings of the Twin Plains and kill three hundred ex-slaves defending their homes and honour, and you’ll be proud that the Red Bastards can be called the lackeys of the Duke, oh sorry, the Duchess of Twin Plains.’ There was silence around the room and the King Bastard stood up. A man next to Goldie went to grab him, but Farirkar motioned him to stop and he did.

  ‘How fucking dare you!’ Screamed the pretty boy. ‘We’re a mercenary force and we fight for money, not honour.’ That was the wrong choice of words.

  ‘Money, oh yes, money is good. Of course you once fought for money and honour and won both in much higher amounts than now. Women would spread their legs willingly to a Red Bastard, but not with a rapist pig like you leading them. And what money do you speak of? There is no money, you’ve not been paid for this; you sullied your name for no profit!’

  ‘No profit’ was the magic phrase, and all of the men were on their feet and screaming. Farirkar stood, as did the older black man. He smiled at Goldie, as he was one at least already with him.

  Farirkar spoke in a deep voice. ‘What’s this talk of pay, King? You handle the money and we trust you to, and some may say your position depends on your connections and contracts, so where’s the fucking gold?’