by J. P. Ashman
‘Well I am now, from now on in fact, so move Bill, I don’t wanna hurt ye.’ Longoss placed a hand on Bill to move him to the side, but the man didn’t budge. They locked eyes and Bill shook his head.
‘Longoss, listen, we won’t mention this, but ye turn this down and Poi Son will have yer head and ye know it. Just take the damned mark and be done wi’ it, man.’
Longoss shook his head in return.
‘Just bloody take it so we can go. It’ll be worse for ye if ye don’t,’ Kerril said from behind Longoss. Bill closed his eyes and sighed as Longoss spun round and knocked Kerril out cold. Longoss then managed to push past Bill and continue down the street, shouting behind him as he went. ‘I’m done, Bill. Tell Poi Son will ye?’
‘He’ll gut ye like a fish, Longoss, I seen it done.’
‘Not yer concern, Bill, and if he tries, tell him I’ll ram a fish up his arse and we’ll see what he’ll do about that, eh?’
Longoss continued to walk down the street despite the threats now following him from Bill about the whole guild coming after him.
‘That not bother ye, Longoss? The others? Ye think it’d bother yer new girl?’
Longoss stopped dead and turned, slowly, to stare back at the man he’d called friend.
‘Aye, we seen ye go there twice, Longoss. Ye never go the same whore’s twice so close together. Slut must be good.’
Clenching his teeth and fists at the same time, Longoss started walking back towards Bill.
‘So this is why ye’re refusing the mark, for a pissin’ whore?’ Bill laughed.
‘I gave ye a chance to leave, Bill,’ Longoss said, as he picked up his pace.
‘And I gave you a chance to take the mark after refusing it. I shouldn’t do, it’s my head as well as yours if Poi Son found out.’
‘I’ll spare ye now, Bill, but ye touch the girl and ye’re a dead man.’
Bill produced a long-sword from his coat and took on a defensive posture as Longoss closed on him. ‘No, Longoss, you’re the dead man. I can’t give ye any more chances and ye know the penalty for refusing Poi Son when he’s this insistent.’
‘Aye, and you know the penalty for drawing a weapon on me, boy,’ Longoss said, as he reached Bill and drew his knife.
Bill lunged forward immediately, his long-sword far outreaching Longoss’ small blade, but despite that, the knife scored a red line across Bill’s cheek. Cursing, the younger man jumped back and swung his sword across towards Longoss’ neck; a desperate move to keep the big man back.
‘Leave, Bill, I don’t want to kill ye,’ Longoss said, as he circled the other man.
Bill spat, then shouted. ‘Well that’s a first, not wantin’ to kill a man!’
‘Aye, it may be, but that’s me now.’
The long-sword came in again, this time at Longoss’ stomach and he somehow managed to parry the thrust with his knife. Bill smirked as he rolled his wrist and nicked Longoss’ ear with the tip of the blade.
‘He’ll have Poi Son after ye, ye know that don’t ye?’
‘Aye lad,’ Longoss said, ‘I know it.’
‘And he’ll have the bitch raped before he kills her.’
Longoss threw himself at Bill then, stabbing repeatedly and swiftly for the man’s face. Every blow was deflected just in time as the young man struggled to back step away from Longoss.
Managing to create a gap between them – using the prone Kerril – Bill reached into his coat and drew a second, shorter sword with his free hand.
‘They touch her Bill, I’ll bring the lot of ’em down, I swear it; the whole fucking guild!’
Bill swallowed hard, rapidly breathing as sweat beaded his brow. ‘Ye’re serious aren’t ye?’
‘I just swore it didn’t I, lad?’
Bill nodded his head. ‘Aye, ye did, me old mucker, ye did.’ Bill turned and ran, looking behind him one last time as he headed down the deserted street, past the black crossed doors and eventually round a corner.
I liked ye, Bill, and not many men can say I liked ’em, not many at all.
Sighing hard, Longoss kicked the stirring man on the ground back to unconsciousness before turning and continuing on his way.
After walking out of Dockside and well into the Park District of Wesson, Longoss looked up at the ornately carved, cliff-like sides of the Samorlian Cathedral. His mind raced at all that had happened to bring him there. His physical journey across the city was a blur after the brief fight with Bill.
So, yer sister’s here is she, Elleth? Well, I’ll keep me word to ye and get her out…somehow.
As he looked on, Longoss wondered how he’d manage such a thing, especially if he couldn’t kill. That’s gonna do me no good, Elleth. Why couldn’t ye’ve made me swear to it after I got yer sister from these bastards?
Sudden voices drew his attention to a large contingent of monks leaving a side door halfway down the cathedral; armed monks, followed by witchunters, all of which headed away to the north.
Well, at least I won’t face those bastards in there. Longoss made his way towards the door the group of men had just left.
***
The library in Tyndurris was crammed with books new and old, of scrolls native and foreign and of some artefacts that required jars and tanks to preserve their contents.
Morri had been sent by Master Orix to see a young sorceress by the name of Cullane. The oil lamp she sat under illuminated her deep blue robes and her mousy brown hair, which she wore down over her shoulders. She had her head buried in a large book, and jumped when Morri spoke.
‘Good morning, Cullane.’ Morri pulled up a chair and sat opposite the young and attractive woman.
‘Hello, Morri, good to see you,’ Cullane said. ‘You’re looking well, which is a rarity within Tyndurris these past few days.’
Morri beamed at the compliment. ‘As are you,’ he swiftly replied, a little too swiftly he thought to himself. He'd held a torch for her since their days as students at the guild, and had been extremely disappointed when Cullane’s skills had pushed her towards sorcery rather than medicine and healing. Since then, they'd seen little of each other and so Morri relished the opportunity to work with her again, albeit on the awful subject of the plague, or rather the cause of the plague.
Two clerics on duty in the city had also fallen victim of the plague and Morri had been most upset to hear of the death of Orrel, the guard at his infirmary who'd been a good friend to Midrel. Shaking away the awful thought, he smiled.
‘You’re here to see if I’ve found anything in these books I take it?’
‘Yes. Master Orix asked me to come down this morning after a quick nap, not that it was much of one mind, we’re all so busy trying to find as much as we can. I can’t seem to sleep for long at all, even when I have a rare chance to.’
‘I’ve only just been assigned to this,’ Cullane said, a sympathetic smile gracing her pretty face. ‘I was working on a long term project, but volunteered my services and this is what I’ve ended up with: book duty.
‘Good job I have this little fellow.’ Cullane grinned and nodded towards the pages of the book she held open in her arms.
Morri jumped as a long, sickly yellow worm emerged from the liquid-like pages of the book. The worm seemed to look up at him, despite its lack of eyes. Turning to Cullane, it whistled and clicked before squirming its way across and into the opposite page.
‘What the…’
Cullane chuckled.
‘It's a bookworm,’ she said, trying to straighten her face.
‘It's a what? Bookworm’s a term, Cullane, not an actual creature, or so I thought?’
‘Where do you think the term bookworm comes from, silly?’
‘Well I… I don’t know, but not from whatever that was,’ Morri said, shaking his head and still staring at the flat pages of the book, waiting for something to happen.
‘It's not corporeal; not a real worm. I summon it when I want to search large volumes and tomes. It travels through
the contents of the book without physically disturbing the pages, taking in the information as it… well… burrows through the written knowledge, I guess? I don’t have a complete knowledge of how it works, just how to summon and converse with it. That’s what the whistling was.’ She smiled at Morri again and he smiled back at her in amazement.
‘What did it say?’
‘It hasn't found anything yet, but I only just conjured it, so it’ll be able to search for a good few hours. Until lunch at least.’
‘Well that’s great. Not sure what good I am then.’ Morri’s eyes dropped to the book again, just in time to see a tail flick out of the side of the book, before sliding back in again. Morri shuddered at the sight and Cullane laughed.
‘You’ve been told what to look for?’ Morri asked, finally able to drag his eyes away from the book in her arms.
She slowly moved her head from side to side, one cheek raised. ‘Sort of, we’re looking for references in ancient recordings of diseases, for any unnatural causes, carriers and the like, but like I said, we’ve just started.
‘Any luck with Master Orix and the old Grand Master’s room?’
Morri shook his head. ‘Not as of yet. It seems Lord Severun destroyed or hid everything he was working on and he’s no longer here to ask…’ Morri looked down as he continued. ‘I know what he did was awful, Cullane, but I think it wasn’t the best course of action, what they did, to say the least. The execution I mean; a brutal affair if you ask me.’
Cullane nodded. That’s an understatement, Morri.
They both fell silent for a while then, until Cullane’s bookworm popped out of the book, whistled, clicked and dragged itself down and into a small, red-bound book on the table next to her.
Cullane closed the large book, placed it on top of a couple of others and dragged an even larger, more ancient looking tome off a precariously high stack. Once open in the middle, she placed the small red book onto the open pages of the tome and the bookworm slid from one to the other.
Morri’s mouth dropped open again and Cullane laughed, pulling out a smaller book and handing it to Morri.
‘Come on then,’ she said, as he took the book, ‘let’s get reading. We’ve a long day ahead of us and answers to find.’
Chapter 28: Sea Of Gold
Biviano was struggling to keep his eyes open as he took the first watch of the door.
‘Blind me, this is boring,’ he said to himself, for Sears and Ellis Frane were fast asleep.
Deciding sitting was worse than standing when trying to stay awake, he donned his helm and climbed wearily to his feet. Quietly, he made his way around the torture chamber, taking in all the vicious devices and tools used by the inquisitors to torture their victims.
Aye, victims… poor bastard victims of murderers who think they’ve a damned right to do it in the name of Sir Samorl. Pretty sure that hoary bastard would run the lot of ’em through if he were still about to witness this shit.
Picking up a particularly nasty looking tool, with barbed hooks and a long, needle-thin spike, Biviano’s nose twitched as a slight breeze crossed his face. He returned the tool to the desk he stood by and turned towards where he thought the breeze had come from. Moving slowly, short-sword now in hand, he held his free hand up to feel for any shift in the air as he moved slowly down the wall next to the bench.
‘There,’ he whispered to himself. He pressed his hand against the cold stone of the wall and to his amazement, the stone he pressed moved. Pressing harder, a mechanical clunk echoed through the chamber and the sound of gears and pulleys whirred as a section of the wall in front of Biviano slid back and then to the side, revealing a small, pitch black void beyond.
The void reeked of death.
‘Sears,’ Biviano shouted, without turning around.
‘I see it,’ Sears said, who was awake and already crossing the room towards his friend.
‘What is it?’ Biviano asked hesitantly. I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
Ellis Frane’s rough voice turned both their heads then, as he answered their question. ‘It’s where they keep them.’
Biviano and Sears looked to one another and then back to Ellis Frane. ‘Where they keep who, Ellis?’
‘The girls, Sears, it’s where they keep the questioned girls.’
Biviano looked to Sears quickly and could have sworn he saw a flash of red in the man’s eyes. ‘Keep calm big guy. Go grab me a torch and I’ll go check it out.’
‘The Three ye will. I’m going in there, Biviano, and I’ll be flayed if ye’re stopping me.’
Swallowing hard, Biviano ran across the room to grab a torch from the wall as Sears disappeared through the gap.
‘It won’t be nice, whatever you find,’ Ellis Frane said, and Biviano knew him to be right.
Following Sears, Biviano entered the small room on the other side of the wall. Torch held high, its flickering light danced across dozens of stacked, naked bodies, all of them female.
‘Some of these are kids,’ Sears said, his voice strained. His jaw muscles bunched under his red beard as he pointed to a small body off to his right.
Biviano, stomach churning, cast the torch about from the doorway. ‘She’s no more than ten.’ He closed his eyes tight.
‘Fucking ten!’ Sears’ eyes glowed suddenly, like hot coals in the dark room.
The lock of the torture chamber door turned then and Ellis Frane called out a warning.
As sick as this is, it couldn’t have come at a better time. Biviano looked at Sears’ eyes, before swiftly turning and moving back into the main chamber.
Sears was hot on his heels.
Biviano’s first sight in the chamber was of Ellis Frane, hiding behind the rack he’d previously been tied to. Biviano then looked past the frightened man, and at the same time, felt Sears push past him to run full tilt towards the chamber door.
Oh shit…
As Sears reached the door, it began to open. The big man kicked it with such force it split the frame and smashed it down and outwards. The resulting cry made it clear to all that it had flattened whoever had been opening it.
Biviano ran towards Sears as two warrior monks burst into the room. One swung a mace at Sears as the other ran at Biviano with a cudgel held high.
Roaring again – eyes now ablaze – Sears reached up and grabbed the mace as it came in at him, his other hand closing on the monk’s throat and crushing it easily. The body crumpled to the floor as Sears was rocked back by a thrusting blow from a wooden rod. As the big man stumbled to the floor, eyes flaring, an inquisitor stalked into the room, wooden rod tucked neatly under his right arm.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said, addressing Biviano – who'd just run through his attacker, and Sears, who was picking himself up off the floor. Inquisitor Makhell’s eyes scanned the room for Ellis Frane.
‘Gentlemen?’ Sears shouted. ‘Ye won’t be saying that when I tear ye to bloody pieces for those girls in there!’ He pointed to the hidden chamber, eyes flaring once more.
Hold big guy, just hold, this one’s dangerous, Biviano thought. His palm felt slick with sweat, and he gripped the hilt of his sword all the tighter for it.
‘I suggest you calm down soldier, otherwise I may see fit to—’
The inquisitor stopped then, as he finally settled his eyes on Sears’ own. ‘What on Samorl’s earth…’
Biviano smiled as he saw the genuine fear in the inquisitor’s eyes. He thought of the girls in the chamber then and of Ellis Frane and what he’d been through at the hands of these men. Ye’ve done it now, ye sick bastard. Ye’ve got him so angry even I can’t stop him.
‘Red sky, inquisitor,’ Biviano said, grinning.
The inquisitor tore his eyes from Sears’ glowing orbs and looked to Biviano then, whilst backing away from the red bearded guardsman.
‘He was born of a red sky?’ Inquisitor Makhell’s ashen face looked back to the burning eyes of Sears.
‘Aye, but not during a red night, inquisitor,
or morning for that matter; Sears was born in-between ye see. In-between a red night and a red morning… for Sears was born under a blood red moon…’
Upon hearing the words, Inquisitor Makhell turned to run for the door.
Sears roared and his eyes flared as a rush of flames burst from his open mouth, flowing like liquid to engulf the doorway the inquisitor had intended to use. The flames inadvertently swallowed another warrior monk who was running to the inquisitor’s aid.
Inquisitor Makhell turned then, just in time to deflect a blow from Biviano’s sword, as a lunge followed from Sears’ blade.
The warrior monk ran screaming from the room as the flames engulfed him.
The three men lunged, parried and swung at each other in a rapidly moving blur, as the two guardsmen forced the inquisitor round towards the rack.
Biviano knew the inquisitor was dangerous, but not only that, he knew he had to try and keep Sears away from him if they were to find out where the Grand Inquisitor was. He needed the inquisitor alive.
Inquisitor Makhell expertly side-stepped and twisted to avoid several sword thrusts and overhead chops, whilst jabbing and striking back at the two men whenever possible. He struggled to pull his eyes from those of the large guardsman, fearing the beast would open its mouth and spit flame once more.
Biviano stepped in close then and thrust his sword towards the inquisitor’s right leg, hoping to incapacitate him long enough for them to pin him down.
The thrust was stopped dead by the skilled man, who stepped forward and wrapped his arm around Biviano’s, bending it back until Biviano had no choice but to drop his weapon, and all the while the inquisitor fended off Sears’ attacks with his wooden rod.
Stamping down hard on the inquisitor’s soft-booted foot, Biviano managed to break free, just in time to see Sears launch himself at the man.
Inquisitor Makhell cracked his rod across the side of the big guardsman’s head, which seemed to have no effect as the fire eyed monster wrapped him in a bear hug and squeezed, roaring as he did so.