A Demon's Quest the Beginning of the End the Trilogy Box Set

by Charles Carfagno Jr.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  Jacko stared at his body and could see that his stomach wound was deep and blood flowed endlessly down his clothes. “You’re hurt bad, Teacher.”

  “Why did you come after me?” Ma asked again, ignoring him.

  “I believed that you were in trouble and needed my help.”

  “You shouldn’t have come. You almost got yourself killed.”

  “Who are those men and why are they after you?”

  “They work for a man called Thelmaer, and he and my father were partners in a criminal syndicate a very long time ago. Thelmaer was captured during a raid and took the blame because he looked up to my father. He never once said he was associated with my dad no matter how much they tortured him. When Thelmaer finally got out, he paid a visit to my father, wanting to start their business over, but my father changed. While he was away, he’d prospered in the diplomatic world and earned a fortune in the mining business, plus he had a wife and two small children. To try to make amends for his time in jail, my father offered him some money for his trouble, but his offer was an insult and infuriated Thelmaer to the point he left vowing revenge.”

  “Your father should have paid him whatever he wanted.”

  “I agree, because Thelmaer was broke, homeless, and had nowhere to go. Many years later, Thelmaer started his criminal life again and visited my father once again to give him another chance, but my father turned him away. Thelmaer was furious and did the unthinkable, kidnapping my eldest brother, and held him for ransom. My father ignored his threats, and Thelmaer sent his body back one piece at a time, starting with his fingers and eventually ending with his head.”

  “I can’t believe he ignored him.”

  “My brother was a good man and never hurt anyone a day in his life.” He paused. “When my father refused to pay him, Thelmaer decided to come after me as well, but I got away and hid in our Order. Like a…coward.”

  “You’re not a coward. Your father is for not repaying his debt.”

  Ma finished freeing Jacko from his bonds and wrapped a piece of his own garments around his stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. “You should go before it’s too late,” Ma insisted.

  “Too late for what?” Jacko smiled ever so moderately.

  “Slyantom will be back soon and...”

  “We can defeat him together,” Jacko responded passionately.

  “No, we can’t. You’re not skilled enough and my wound is too deep; plus he’s extremely deadly with those blades of his. Even if I survive, this will never end, because Thelmaer wants his revenge.”

  “It’s not fair. I am not leaving you here to die alone.”

  “Don’t be imprudent.” Ma became increasingly angry. “You’re young and have your whole life ahead of you, and besides, this is not your responsibility and there’s no sense in you dying as well. I should be able to bide you enough time to get away, so you’ll need to move quickly.” He reached into the shirt’s inside pocket and gave him back the note the judges gave Jacko. “Give this to the master; he’ll need proof of your accomplishment.” He paused as if thinking about something. “I need you to do me a favor. In your travels, I want you to go to Mirkin and tell my father, Mui Shin, of my sacrifice and warn him of the coming trouble.”

  “Even after all the trouble he’s caused you?”

  “Family is like that.” He smiled.

  “I can’t leave you behind; come with me,” Jacko insisted.

  Ma took several labored breaths. “I’m in no shape, so please do as I ask.”

  Jacko realized it was pointless to argue with him anymore, so he begrudgingly agreed and turned away.

  “Jacko, I don’t think you’re in any real danger, because they don’t know who you are, but be prepared just in case and make sure you tell the master.”

  Jacko faced him again. “I’m afraid for you.”

  “Don’t be, because Slyantom and the rest of the Chatar are going to know what it’s like to face someone from our Order. Now get going.”

  Jacko accepted his fate, thanked him for everything he did, and left without turning around again. It was too painful for him.

  ****

  Equipped with a crossbow gun on each arm and finger knives securely on his fingers, Ma created several misleading paths throughout the camp, hoping when the fox returned he’d send his men to search. When he was finished, he sat back against a tree smoking his pipe. He knew it was pointless to run, because they would only find him again and maybe next time, someone like Jacko might get killed. He took another long puff, savoring the taste, and thought about his brother. After he died, an empty chasm grew within his beating heart; to make matters worse, his father didn’t lift a finger to avenge his death, or even stop these men. If he had, he wouldn’t be in this mess. A tear streaked down his cheek. “I don’t deserve this, and if I somehow live, I swear to the gods I’ll make him pay for his own crimes,” Ma spat. He took several deep breaths to calm himself and reflected on his own life. For the most part, he was pleased with how it turned out; his only regret was that he never took a wife or had children. He would’ve been a good husband and dad, he decided. Another tear rolled down his face. Everything was going to be taken away from him because of his father. I guess we pay for our father’s sins, he thought and drew one last puff from his pipe and stood up. “Well, at least I’m going to have plenty of company on my way to the afterlife,” he said, then tightened the blood-soaked bandage around his waist and hid in the foliage like a spider waiting for his meal.

  Slyantom and his entourage returned an hour later, halting just short of entering when they saw the lifeless bodies of the other captains.

  “I want answers. Find out where they are,” Slyantom barked. A handful of guards entered the camp to investigate while he watched from afar observing.

  From across the camp, Ma counted twenty, including Slyantom, and the odds of his success were very low if had to fight them all. He waited, hoping his plan would work.

  Several minutes later, some of the guards discovered the fake paths and reported their findings to Slyantom. The fox spoke to them in hushed tones and ordered three groups of four to go off in pursuit. Ma knew his odds weren’t going to get any better than they were now and began sneaking around in the tall grass until he was positioned directly behind the fox. Slyantom started moving toward the camp. Ma took aim at him and fired both crossbows. The first bolt grazed off his right shoulder while the other one missed him entirely. Slyantom grunted and quickly ducked down. The other guards did the same because they didn’t know who was out there. Ma moved behind a tree.

  “Nice try, but foolish. Come out and face me Ma, you coward!” Slyantom shouted.

  Ma reloaded the crossbows and stepped from behind the tree.

  “Why didn’t you run like your friend?” Slyantom asked as he was standing up.

  “And miss the party?”

  “You’re a fool for killing my friends; for that I’m going to flay the skin right off your body.” Slyantom unsheathed both short swords from across his back. “Take him,” he ordered.

  His men pointed their crossbow handguns at him and began moving.

  “I thought we were going to fight—or are you too afraid?”

  “I do love a challenge…”He paused. “But seeing how you killed my associates, I think I’ll err on the side of caution.”

  “Alright, have it your way.” Ma readied himself.

  The fox glanced down at Ma’s clothing and noticed it was soaked through with blood, more than he’d remembered. He told his men to stop. “I changed my mind. I think we should fight, so remove your crossbows and let’s get started.”

  Ma grinned. He knew the fox had something up his sleeve, but this was his only chance, so he complied. “Order them not to interfere.”

  “You are not to intervene, do you understand?” Slyantom ordered. His men lowered their weapons and stepped away.

  When they were ready, the fox went on the
offensive, swinging both blades as if they were one. His first attack missed, and Ma blocked the other two fairly easily, then countered by kicking him several times in different places, the last knocking him backward, wincing in pain. Ma grinned. The fox straightened and charged. This time he changed his tactic and swung his weapons in a round arching motion. Surprisingly, it distracted his foe, and he was sliced across the chest, causing him to stumble away. Slyantom pressed further to finish off the teacher, but Ma regained his footing and either blocked or evaded the series of attacks, before feigning backward then quickly lunging forward with lighting speed, aiming for his chest with both open palms. Before the impact, Slyantom managed to cross his blades in front of his chest, hoping to soften the blow, but he was wrong. Ma hit him with enough velocity and force that it bent his swords, cracked most of his ribs, and sent him sprawling to the ground coughing up blood. Sensing freedom was within his grasp, Ma turned his attention on the guards, taking them by surprise. Despite his wounds, he was still fast and agile and fought like a possessed demon. The first two fell after they were hit with well-placed palm strikes to their heads. Another pair died while unsheathing their swords, and the rest were no match for him either. After the last guard died, he confidently walked over to Slyantom.

  “Well, it looks like you failed.”

  “Please let me go,” Slyantom pleaded, wincing in pain.

  “Let you go? You wanted to kill me, my father, and my friend, and you want me to let you go?” Ma said angrily.

  Slyantom coughed up more blood. “I promise never to bother you or your family again.”

  “I don’t believe…”

  The sound of booted feet indicated the other guards were returning and halted Ma in mid-sentence. He’d forgotten all about them, and as he glanced around, he was relieved to see they didn’t have Jacko with them. The sound of crossbows being loaded was enough for Ma to realize his doom. His final attempt to kill Slyantom ended when he was shot multiple times with quarrels. The bolts tore through his body, piercing his lungs and other vital organs. He remained upright for what seemed like an eternity, until his strength weakened, and he fell to his knees exhausted and short of breath. Slyantom gingerly rose to his feet, rubbing his chest and wiping the blood away from his mouth. Ma kept his attention on his nemesis as he approached.

  “You fought well and I will keep that in mind the next time I encounter someone from your Order,” Slyantom began. “I want you to know something else as well. Your father and associate are also going to die by my hand.”

  Ma was saddened, not for his father or his life, but for Jacko. “Leave my friend alone; he has nothing to do with this.”

  Slyantom acted like he was thinking about it. “I thought about it, and the answer is no. He escaped and no one ever…” He suddenly broke out into a coughing fit and spit up more blood.

  His injuries brought a wide grin to Ma’s ashen face. “Maybe you won’t get the chance after all.” Ma laughed at him.

  His laughter angered the fox so much that he shook in rage, screamed, and hacked him apart until his dismembered body was scattered at his feet. When the fury finally subsided, he sent a half-dozen Chatar off in pursuit of Jacko, and with the aid of his remaining guards, went off in search of a healer, hoping that it wasn’t too late to save his life.

  Chapter 4: The Meeting

  Nightfall descended upon the town of Redden as the temperature slowly dropped to a chilly twenty degrees, and the snow began to fall, covering the ground in a light dusting.

  From his balcony, Torhan observed people shuffling about as their day was ending. Several days had passed and still no significant sign of his friend, which was very unusual for Jacko, because he’d never missed one of their training sessions before, and that caused him to grow uneasy for his childhood companion.

  A few minutes later, Torhan reentered the room, closed the doors behind him, and pulled the curtains tightly together, shutting out the night. He sat down on the bed, hoping that would help ease his troubled mind, but, as the minutes passed, he grew even more impatient. He needed to do something to help calm his fears. His options were limited. It was too late to train, so he could either go downstairs and drink himself silly or go for a walk. Picking the latter, he threw his cloak on, secured his sword around his waist, blew out the candle, and left his cozy room. The inn was almost full with patrons drinking and having a good time, and it took some restraint for him not to sit down and join them.

  Stepping outside, Torhan pulled the cloak tightly around his body to help ward off the cold. He traveled south toward the more desolated part of town, where only the drunks, thieves, and ruffians roamed the streets this time of the night. He ventured down the narrowing streets and stopped when one store, in particular, caught his attention. A tilted sign, attached to a rusted pole, read, “Alaric’s Equipment Store.” The building appeared to be falling apart from the outside and was in need of major repairs. Until this very moment, he’d never felt compelled to go inside the establishment. After gazing down the deserted street in both directions, he opened the creaky door and stepped inside.

  His first impression was one of dismay; the place was filthy, poorly lit, smelled of dead rodents, and the wares were carelessly strewn about. Suits of armor, haphazardly stacked on top of each other, were either dull from apparent lack of care or rusted and falling apart. Shields and weapons fared no better. Torhan was preoccupied when a husky-looking gentleman suddenly appeared from behind the counter.

  “I’m Alaric, and I own this place. Can I help you?” the gruff man asked.

  “Is this all you have?” Torhan gazed about.

  “No, I have the good stuff in the back. I just bought this place and haven’t had the chance to bring it out. What can I get you, young man?”

  “Let me see some of your slashing weapons?”

  Alaric nodded, opened a drawer on his left, and produced a stack of papers. “Okay, let’s see.” He began riffling through several pieces of parchment. “Armor, bows, shields,” he called off each as he turned the pages, “they have to be here somewhere.” He continued flipping through the pages. “Ah, slashing weapons, here they are,” he exclaimed and handed Torhan three pages, marked Hand-to-Hand. “Take a look at them and let me know if you see anything of interest. I’ll be right back.” Alaric entered the backroom.

  Torhan studied the list, trying to determine what he wanted to see when someone said, “Junk, that’s all it is. Junk!”

  Torhan turned around and was surprised to see a shadowy figure standing right in front of him. The tall, skinny stranger was dressed in black leather, his dark hair was short and unkempt, and he carried a solitary sheathed knife strapped across his chest.

  “What do you mean junk?” Torhan calmly asked the gentleman, trying not to reveal how surprised he was by his appearance.

  “If you’re a man of the edge,” the stranger paused for a few seconds and looked Torhan from top to bottom, “and it seems that you are, check out the craftsmanship on some of the higher priced blades, and you’ll see what I mean. If I’m correct, come to my friend’s store and have a look at his wares. His merchandise is by far topnotch quality, and for the right price,” he smirked, “he might be favorable to part with some of his special items.”

  “What sort of special items does he have?”

  The stranger grinned slyly. “The variety that you don’t find in this area or any other place within a hundred miles,” he paused again, “if you know what I mean.”

  “Sounds interesting, where’s the store located?”

  “After you leave here, go left and walk down three streets, make a right, and the property will be the fourth building on your left. Make sure you tell him Molech sent you.”

  “If your claims are correct about this place, then I’ll stop by,” Torhan replied; he didn’t want to seem too eager given the circumstance that he’d never met this person before.

  “You won’t be sorry,” Molech firmly said and walked to the front
door, then paused. “Remember to tell him that I sent you,” he said and left.

  Heavy footsteps marked the forthcoming return of Alaric. “Whom were you talking to?” he asked.

  “Didn’t you see the person standing next to me?”

  “Did someone come in while I was in the back?”

  “Never mind.”

  “It’s getting late. Did you decide on anything?” Alaric pressed, because tonight was the night that Mari, the serving wench from the Talken tavern, was cooking his favorite meal of goat innards smothered in a cream sauce with a side of greens. He’d been anticipating this meal all day and knew that it would be waiting for him when he returned home.

  “Let me see some of your finest weapons.”

  Alaric sighed. “Which ones do you want to see: swords, axes, spears, or hammers? And don’t forget they come in different lengths, so you’ll have to be more specific.”

  “Okay, let me see some of your long swords, two-handed axes, and daggers.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Alaric said in delight and left.

  Torhan thought about Molech, He didn’t hear the door open, so he had to be here before he’d arrived. If that was true, why didn’t Alaric know he was there?

  Alaric returned a short time later, carrying a number of items. Torhan took his time inspecting the weapons, while Alaric began to close the shop for the evening. After mulling over them for several minutes, he decided Molech was right. Each weapon had tiny imperfections up and down the metal, and he knew right away the weapons would never last more than a few battles before becoming useless. He decided that the weaponry wasn’t worth the value. Out of politeness to Alaric, he carefully studied them for a few moments longer, then said that he did not have enough coin for weapons of such quality and purchased a dagger instead.