by Rob J. Hayes
Only once the Inquisition's competition was battered, beaten, broken or exterminated the Templars served no purpose. They became relics too powerful to let go and yet too costly to maintain. Thanquil was no stranger to history tomes and he knew the last Templar had died over two thousand years ago. Over time the descriptions of how to create the warriors had been forgotten and lost but clearly there were some within the Inquisition who were keen to rediscover just how to create such powerful tools. Thanquil couldn't help but wonder whether the God Emperor knew of the attempt and knew of Jacob.
“Someone sent you here?” Thanquil asked. “Sent you after Thorn? The Black Thorn.”
Jacob nodded.
“Who?”
Predictable silence.
“The council?”
Jacob held up a single finger.
“An Inquisitor?”
Jacob nodded.
That made things difficult with a side helping of unfortunate. Thanquil didn't have the authority to overrule an Inquisitor's order out here or anywhere. He may have given his word to pardon the Black Thorn but right now he had no way of holding up his end of the bargain. Not to mention he counted Thorn as a friend and would really rather not see the man tried by the Inquisition. He may have been responsible for the deaths of six Arbiters but the Black Thorn was most certainly not a heretic.
“Jacob, listen to me. The Black Thorn is not a heretic.”
Jacob shrugged.
“You have no reason to hunt him. He's actually helping me, helping the Inquisition.”
Again Jacob shrugged, focused his eyes on Thorn waiting in the distance and started towards him. Thanquil quickly stepped into the Templar's way.
“Jacob stop,” Thanquil was walking backwards as he spoke, well aware that he did not want to try and stop the Templar physically. “This is bigger and more important than any orders from an Inquisitor. Did you hear what happened last year between myself and Inquisitor Heron?”
Jacob nodded but kept walking.
Thanquil held up a hand. “Jacob listen to me...”
The Templar's own hand moved so quick Thanquil didn't have time to react. Jacob grabbed hold of his wrist and twisted. There was nothing Thanquil could do but twist with it to stop his wrist from shattering. He found himself on his knees with his scarred hand held above him, his shoulder straining in its socket and he was feeling somewhere close to all the pain in the world. Jacob looked down on him with dark, heartless eyes.
Thanquil had to admit the Templar was gentle. He was in no doubt, having already witnessed the man's strength, that Jacob could likely twist his arm from his body should he want but instead he just held him there. Thanquil managed to put out his other hand to stop Thorn's almost certainly suicidal attempt at rescue. Then he gripped hold of his right shoulder to brace it against the strain.
“Inquisitor Heron was working with two Arbiters,” Thanquil hissed through gritted teeth. “Kosh is dead but Kessick survived and he's here, building an army to finish what Heron started. He's using demons to possess people, to turn them into warriors to fight the Inquisition.”
Jacob let go and Thanquil drew his hand away, cradling it against he chest. He looked up to find the Templar staring down through narrowed eyes.
“It's the truth,” Thanquil pushed himself back to his feet and stumbled backwards a step out of Jacob's reach. Not that it would likely matter given how fast the man could move. “The Black Thorn is helping me to find and kill Kessick and put an end to this madness once and for all.
“Jacob, I need his help to do this and I could use yours also but I need you to promise you won't try to kill Thorn.” Thanquil swallowed and took a deep breath. “Please.”
Jacob was silent. He stood straight as a pole with his head cocked slightly to one side as if listening for some distant sound. After some time he frowned and sighed then looked at Thanquil and nodded.
The easy part was done, now all he needed to do was convince Thorn to accept a superhuman Templar with a mission to kill him. Thanquil ran through a number of arguments in his head as they approached Thorn's little bounty hunter crew and none of them tended to end well. He could feel his hands shaking in his pockets.
“Ya convince him of the benefits of not attackin' me?” asked Thorn as they approached.
Thanquil took a moment to survey the crew and noticed Henry was missing. Thorn stood with his axe in hand and a grim look on his one-eyed face, Anders sipped nervously from a hip flask while playing with the hilt of his own rapier, Suzku appeared to be as calm and content as ever with not a hint of an expression crossing his face and both Rilly and Six-Cities Ben looked about ready to pop, both carried weapons and Thanquil could tell both were willing to use them.
“He's agreed to join us until Kessick is dealt with,” Thanquil said, his left hand closing around a stolen key though he had no idea to which lock it fit.
“Fuck that,” shouted Ben. “Reckon I might just gut the cunt right now.”
If Jacob was worried he did not show it.
Thorn nodded, ignoring Ben. “Reckon we might take him up that offer. Seems he knows his way around a fight and we could use some more of that.”
“WHAT?” screamed Rilly. “That's my da's killer! There ain't no fuckin' way I'm crewin' up with him.”
The little woman started forwards short sword in hand but Thorn caught her, span her around and pushed her down into the dust. “Don't reckon I'm 'bout ta let ya get yaself killed, Ril.”
“I won't. We can take him, all o' us together.”
“Aye,” Ben put in. “I already beat him once. Gave him that scar on the side of his head. Woulda killed him but Beth wanted to do it slow.”
Thorn turned a harsh eye on Ben. “Last time ya had a small fuckin' army helpin' ya out an' that Arbiter still killed half of ya including ya brother. Safe ta say he can fuckin' take ya an' I reckon that's a man I want on my side when we come up against Kessick.”
Rilly surged back onto her feet and spat at Thorn, a thick glob of spittle hitting his duster. “You'll be doin' it without me.”
“Or me,” put in Ben.
Thorn took a deep breath and nodded. “Reckon that might be fer the best. Reckon he's worth more than the two of ya an' I reckon ya could both do with a spell here in Farpoint ta cool off an' remember who the fuck is in charge. Ya still here when we get back then we'll welcome ya. If not then not. 'Til then, ya both fired.”
Ben spat and stalked away but Rilly opened her mouth to protest.
“I said ya bloody fired ya dumb girl. Now fuck off.”
Thanquil saw the tell tale shimmer of tears in Rilly's eyes just before she turned and fled back towards the town. He let out a slow breath and turned to find Jacob observing the scene with almost as much expression as Suzku. He heard a scuff of boot in dirt behind him and found Henry not a few paces away, both daggers in hand. The Templar spared her a glance and no more.
“Jus' makin' sure, Arbiter,” Henry said with a wink. “Didn't know which way he'd blow.” She indicated Jacob.
The Black Thorn sniffed loudly and approached Jacob standing up just an inch or two taller and well within striking distance he met the Templar's eyes and gave a nod. Jacob stared on in silence. “Ya comin' with us ya follow my lead,” Thorn said in a voice as cold as the grave. “Good?”
Jacob blinked but made no other move.
“After we deal with Kessick if ya still reckon I need killin' we'll settle accounts then.” Thorn turned away. “Assumin' we both make it,” he said under his breath. “Thanquil, a word.”
They walked off a fair distance into the dark, well out of earshot and barely within visual. They were both silent and Thanquil took the time to wonder what sort of potential mess he had just created.
“Ya reckon he's ta be trusted?” Thorn asked stopping and looking up into the sky and the bright, flickering starlight.
Thanquil shrugged. “To the job. We're probably better off trusting him than fighting him.”
The Blac
k Thorn looked down at him. “Good ta know we're in this together.”
“You sent her away on purpose.”
Thorn nodded and went back to regarding the sky as though it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. “Got a bad feelin' 'bout this one, Thanquil. The kinda feelin' that suggests some of us ain't gonna make it, maybe most of us. Girl's been through more than enough already, don't need a nasty case of death addin' ta her troubles. Reckon she's better off here, safer off here. On the off chance any of us make she'll be waitin'. Can't say as I know 'bout Ben though. Reckon he'll look after the girl.”
Thanquil decided to fill the silence before the subject turned to himself. Last thing he wanted to think about, let alone talk about, was his own troubles. “So why are you doing this? Is it just about vengeance?”
Again Thorn glanced at him from his one eye. “Sounded an awful lot like a question to me.”
He wasn't wrong. Thanquil smiled a weak smile and tried not to think about why his compulsion was waning.
“Ain't gonna lie; the idea of givin' Kessick back a little ain't unappealin' but it also ain't the only reason. Drake Morrass wants the bastard dead too. Says Kessick is bad fer the wilds, like a wound gone ta fester. As a rule I tend not ta but in this case I agree with Morrass. Taken an awful lot from the wilds in my days an' now I reckon I'll give a little back by gettin' all murderous on the bastard took my eye.
“What about you, Thanquil, ya jus' here on orders?”
Thorn produced a small hip flask from his duster and unscrewed the top before taking a swig and handing it to Thanquil. Half way to his mouth Thanquil paused, hearing a whisper as if from a distance, some dark and terrifying voice just out of earshot. He patted the sword by his side and took a deep gulp from the flask. As he handed it back he caught a glimpse of Jacob in the distance staring his way, his head once again cocked to the side as if listening.
“I was tasked with rooting out the heresy within the Inquisition. With Kessick surviving, I failed. I don't like failing. Also he took your eye.”
“Aye,” Thorn said with a grin and swig before passing the flask back again. “He did that.”
Jezzet
Absolution. As ugly a deserted dustball as Jez had ever seen and she'd seen more than her fair share. Low wooden walls ringed the settlement but they were lazy and poorly spaced. At places even a full grown man could likely fit through the gaps, other places Jezzet wagered she could get a horse through. Not hers though, the beast had taken lame not a day back and now she rode behind Rose, the woman's perfume forever in her nose and Jez did not like the way she wriggled up against her. Some women went for that sort of thing but Jez was definitely not one of them.
No patrols walked the walls of Absolution and no smoke drifted upwards from within. No travellers, merchants or workers came and went and the only small signs of life were the birds that cawed at them from their own guard positions high up. One solitary figure sat at a table outside the main gate but he looked to be dozing in the afternoon sun as Rose's not so little entourage trotted up.
A real fortress. How will Thanquil ever find his way in?
“Looks deserted,” said on of Rose's guards.
The magistrate of Chade tutted and pouted at the man. “Looks can be deceiving. Kessick is here, hiding from his enemies and biding his time. Building his forces.”
“Enemies,” Jez mused. “He seems to have a lot of them.”
“Don't we all. If there's one thing I've noticed about getting older, it's that you always pick up more enemies... and more wrinkles.”
Jez snorted. “Speak for yourself.”
They stopped in front of the man at his table and waited. He wore a slightly conical straw hat that obscured his face from view but Jez could see his stark white hair bound in a warrior's tale and flowing down his back over his mud-coloured cloak. Nearby, within easy reach, was an old sword, its scabbard battered and scarred with heavy use. Jezzet got that tingling sensation she often did when faced with a warrior, the type of feeling that the man was dangerous and she felt the need to test just how dangerous.
The Sword of the North had once told her that Blademasters were born, not just trained and he had been one to prove it, challenging everyone and anyone just to test his own abilities. At the time Jezzet hadn't understood. She had thought him mad and terrifyingly so. Now things were different, she had leashed her own fear and understood his drive though she was still certain beyond a shadow of a doubt she was not yet his equal.
Yet.
Rose slid down from the horse, leaving Jez alone atop the creature, and approached the man with a wary caution. “We've come to treat with Kessick. I bring a gift, from Drake Morrass.”
Slowly, very slowly the man reached up with his left hand, extended a single finger and pushed up the brim of his strange, straw hat just enough to reveal an eye. He was old, white haired and had a face weathered with age and scarred with the same sort of use as his sword. He wore a neatly trimmed goatee of white whiskers and chewed lethargically on a small brown stick. He rolled a lazy brown eye over each member of the group and then shrugged, lowering his hand and letting his hat drop back down to cover his face.
Rose struck a pose and sighed. “So we'll just... go on in?”
Silence.
“Good. Nice to meet you.”
Rose waved forward the group and started walking through the gate into Absolution. Inside was a ghost town. Jez had been to more shitty little wilds settlements than she cared to count and all looked the same. Absolution looked just like them only empty. Squat buildings built from wood, wind blasted and somewhere between disrepair and derelict. Dusty streets usually slick with mud and animal droppings only these were missing all but the dust and of that it had more than enough. Signs above shop entrances or inns swung on rusty hinges and the dark doorways looked anything but welcoming. It wasn't the first ghost town Jez had seen but it was damn sure close to being the eeriest.
She suddenly felt the need to not be astride the horse and slid from its back, walking over to Rose quickly. The magistrate for once did not look to be in good humour and Jezzet couldn't say she blamed her. There was a feeling this town gave off and it was not a pleasant one, almost like insects crawling over skin. Jez shuddered.
“Don't take this the wrong way,” Rose said scanning the buildings for any sign of life, “but I am sorely glad I'm not you.”
“Huh?”
“I'm just dropping you off and getting the fuck out of here,” Rose turned an apologetic glance Jez's way. “You have to stay.”
“Thanks for the sympathy.”
“Sure thing, hun.”
“Have you noticed we're being watched?” Jez asked spying a gleaming set of eyes peering out from an upstairs window.
“I wondered what that feeling was,” Rose said with a shaky voice. “I was hoping it was just you staring at my arse again.”
Jez snorted. “It ain't worth a second glance.”
Rose stopped and turned to face Jezzet. “Men have paid good money to get their hands on this arse and I've never once had a complaint.”
Jez had that feeling all over now. That feeling she got when she was surrounded and in for a whole heap of trouble. “Just saying mine's better. Not so well ridden.”
“Well ridden?”
“Now ain't really the time, ladies,” said one of the men, a burly guard by the name of Nolan.
The group were huddling together, horses and people all as frightened as each other and not a one of them had actually seen the source of their fear but all knew they were more than a little surrounded.
“Perhaps we should surrender?” Jez asked.
Rose looked at her and nodded. “Someone put her in chains,” she said to the men before raising her voice. “We're not here to fight. I bring a gift and a message from Drake Morrass. He wants a truce with you, Kessick.”
Jez scowled as Nolan slapped manacles in place around her wrists. The big man shrugged and apologised but fastened them t
ight all the same. Jez considered strangling him with the chain but decided it would serve no purpose.
“You come in peace but bring a group of warriors into my town,” a voice deep with base rang out into the square. Jezzet recognised the voice from long ago, she had met its owner.
“They're not for you,” shouted Rose, looking around trying to find the source of the voice. “Just for the journey. For protection.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “How many of them are there? In case this thing goes south.”
“Enough,” Jez replied in a similar whisper. “Too many.”
Rose sighed. “Normally two of my favourite words.” She raised her voice. “Just here to make a delivery and then we're leaving... well most of us are anyways.”
“What makes you think any of you will be leaving?” The voice came from their left, a man standing in a dark doorway his eyes reflecting none of the bright afternoon light and his hands hovering above the hilts of two long swords sheathed at his hip.
“You Kessick?” Rose asked, waving at her guards to keep their own weapons down.
“Aye.”
“No he isn't,” Jezzet put in quickly. “Can't say who that is but I've met Kessick and it ain't him.”
Rose turned a simpering pout on the man in the doorway. “Sorry friend but I'm here to see your boss. Not really interested in the hired help. Run along and fetch him now please.”
The man stepped out of the doorway and then stepped aside. The next figure stepped into view and that was one Jez did recognise. Kessick had not changed at all, he was still short, of a height with her, and stocky, his steel grey hair was cropped short and he had the face of a man who had never known laughter. Every bit of him seemed hard, sharp angles and long, taught features. He carried no weapons but Jezzet got the distinct feeling it was because the man simply didn't need any. He even still wore the coat of an Arbiter though Jez knew full well he had long since had his name stricken from the Inquisition's records.