by Flank Hawk
Even though I didn’t think she’d answer, I asked, “Why didn’t it surprise you when I mentioned the sword I intend to barter?”
She levered herself up from her stool, once again playing the part of a bone-weary old woman. “Who you name as the enemy, his forces even now comb the Faxtinian lands for your prince. Fortunately for you, it has not crossed his mind to seek the sword and prince separately.” She turned and began to leave, but stopped and said over her shoulder, “At least not that I have heard.”
Chapter 23
North Africa
2,873 Years before the Reign of King Tobias of Keesee
General Mzali had no intention of returning to his bunker. Activation of the ventilation system using the first key would release the variant strain Ebola virus into the bunker. The second would initiate the twelve hour countdown, the end of which would trigger detonation of eighteen tons of explosives, destroying the underground complex.
“I believe we should enjoy the fallout of world events touring the fjords of Norway,” said the general, realizing the lieutenant failed to catch his play on words. “Then maybe visit our friends in Germany, should they survive.”
Once aboard the refurbished ballistic missile submarine purchased from a mothballed fleet four years earlier, General Mzali ordered it out into the Mediterranean. His objective was to submerge and ride out the chaos and destruction he’d helped unleash. Instead of ballistic missiles, the launch tubes carried food and supplies to be supplemented by bunkered caches scattered around the globe.
Making my way to the city gate before the sun rose, I kept replaying my encounter with Belinda the Cursed. Somehow, the negotiations seemed to go too easy, too well. Outside the gate and on the way back to our campsite, I set those concerns aside. In addition to a mixture of merchants and mercenaries, strings of men, women, and some children, bound by ropes and chains, trudged toward the city under watchful goblin eyes, ready with their whips.
Now I understood why the inner courtyard marketplace had been cleared except for makeshift stalls with a central platform. My stomach turned at the thought of a slave market. Those in chains weren’t captured soldiers. They were survivors from the Faxtinian villages routed and destroyed by the enemy. Magical, thumb-sized marks like tattoos had been emblazoned on the forehead of each captive, identifying them as property. I’d seen such marks on prize bulls, used instead of branding to avoid marring the animal’s hide.
I clenched my teeth while facing the sneering goblin grins. As always, their eyes betrayed gleeful malice. There was nothing I could do but avoid the captives’ tortured expressions when they dared glance up from the ground. I told myself the numbers were small, less than one hundred. Their fate was better than becoming a zombie. I took solace in knowing my family had fled south in time. That Keesee was now besieged fostered my resolve to trade the Blood-Sword for something capable of stopping the Necromancer King.
Rather than avoid or ignore the jeering faces of the goblins, I marched past, meeting each with grim resolve. Some laughed, especially when in the company of an ogre. The rest looked to their captives, shouting about some imagined misstep. After passing the last of the captives going to auction, the majority of travelers on the road again consisted of merchants leading beasts of burden hitched to carts bearing food or wares.
As I approached where the road crossed over the irrigation ditch that led to our camp, I spotted a few vultures spiraling downward, hurrying to join those already feasting. The cawing of gore crows jostling for carrion morsels grew louder. In the distance I saw the woods near our camp. Maybe the brethren of the dead ogres there returned for revenge?
I broke into a sprint, hoping the scavengers fed upon dead livestock. The vultures and protesting crows took flight. With a sigh of relief, I saw that the bodies weren’t human. One ogre and four goblins, or what was left of them. I’d seen enough battlefields to recognize they’d died in combat. I moved the bodies with my spear. Nothing was left in their camp, not a blanket, waterskin, or food. Next to the scattered supply of wood, no warm coals burned under the dead campfire’s ashes.
The nearby scavengers hopped closer, anxious for me to depart. “Camp’s picked clean as your bones will soon be,” I muttered to the dead goblins before scanning the irrigation ditch and then down the road. Only a trio of men leading oxen with carts plodding toward Sint Malo. They were a quarter of a mile away and appeared oblivious of me.
I trotted toward our campsite. When I reached it, I found the campfire scattered and cold as the goblin camp’s. I knelt, examining the grass and weeds. Although tramped down, they didn’t appear to have been slept upon during the night. Shaws could have told for sure.
I don’t know why I didn’t consider the possibility that Roos and Lilly had run off with the Blood-Sword. Even if they had, certainly not as a team, and the body of one would be lying in the camp.
I searched around for some sign of where Roos and Lilly had gone until movement in the woods caught my attention. It was Lilly waving her hand, signaling me to her. I looked around. The men and oxen had plodded past, stirring up the crows but not stopping. I checked the sky for dragons before crossing the unplanted field to meet her.
“Been waiting for you all morning,” Lilly said, grinning. She ducked behind a tree and nodded the direction of the road. “See your Crusader friend’s handiwork?”
“The dead ogre and goblins?”
Lilly nodded and led me deeper into the trees. “He found out they had slaves. Then he had only one thing on his mind. Forget the sword.”
“Are you okay?” I asked. “Is he okay?”
We reached an overgrown path and took it.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “Glad you’re back. How’d it go?”
“Fine. Even got you something.”
Lilly stopped and turned. “Really?” She smiled, but with eyebrows raised, unsure. “Food is all I really need. I already hate hardtack.” Lilly held out a hand. “Looks like you could use some help.”
I unslung my crossbow and handed it to her. “I’ll dig out your stuff when we get to camp.” I readjusted my load. “Where are we camped?”
The shade of the thick trees overhead couldn’t hide Lilly blushing. “That wasn’t what I meant.”
I winked. “I know.”
I listened to Lilly as we continued down the path. “After Roos snuck up on them goblins in their sleep,” she explained, “and blasting away with his gun, it wasn’t safe to remain anywhere nearby.” She shook her head, kicking at weeds as she spoke.
Things obviously hadn’t gone as planned or smoothly between Roos and Lilly. “Exactly what happened?”
“That Crusader saw them goblins and an ogre set up camp not far from us, near the road. He has some sort of long tube he calls a spyglass. When he saw the forehead marks on the chained humans his face turned red. Said he could tolerate a lot in this accursed land, but he couldn’t abide slavery. Especially not women and children.”
She shook her head. “I tried to talk him out of it. Told him protecting your sword was more important. He wouldn’t listen.” She spun around, getting further worked up. “Oh, and unless you have an afternoon to waste, don’t ask him about his beliefs.” She didn’t finish the thought. Instead she turned and strode through the trees. “He wouldn’t even let me hold your sword while he went and ‘liberated’ the slaves.”
“How far?” I asked, getting angry that Roos risked the Blood-Sword. Then I recalled how I felt after seeing the chained captives herded toward the city. Besides, nothing could be done about it now.
“I snuck up with the Crusader,” continued Lilly. “He stabbed the ogre through the eye while it slept. Shot three goblins that came at him. The shaman tried to spell the Crusader. He hacked off the goblin’s hands with his saber before chopping off its head.
“The Crusader said some kind of prayer and faded the marks on everyone’s forehead. All but—” she started, but didn’t finish.
“All but what?”
“We won’t need the goats anyway,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
Smiling, I mimicking her answer. “Nothing. You’ll see.”
Lilly led me south for about three miles through scattered hedgerows and meadows, and across farm fields, several of which were planted but unattended. We approached a sod hut. Roos sat on a rock outside the low, rectangular structure whose north wall and accompanying section of thatch roof had been torn down. Another man was squatting next to Roos, watching the Crusader clean his rifle. We were about ninety yards away when Roos noticed us and waved.
“Who’s that with him?” I asked Lilly.
“One of the men the Crusader rescued,” Lilly said, looking away, then at the ground.
“Does he know about the sword?”
“Not unless the Crusader told him.”
As we neared, I recognized the man standing next to Roos. He was one of the peasants ambushed in the wagon trap set by the goblins; the one who’d tried to escape on the plow horse.
“Why didn’t he leave with the others?” Lilly didn’t answer. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“We need help,” she said, looking straight ahead. “The Crusader isn’t enough.”
“What?” I asked, trying to keep my voice low.
“Safety in numbers,” Lilly explained. “Piyetten won’t hesitate to kill goblins. You saw that.” She stiffly gestured with her hands. “Remember?”
“Does he know I was the one who shot that goblin with my crossbow, then fled when the giant showed up?”
“Yes. But he doesn’t blame you.” She finally looked at me. “They beat him up pretty bad, though.”
I shook my head and let out a hiss of frustration. “It would’ve been better if he’d left last night with the others Roos freed.”
“Why?” Lilly challenged.
We were almost to Roos and Piyetten. “Later,” I said before greeting Roos. “I hear your evening was almost as interesting as mine.”
“Good to see ye again, Hawk,” said Roos. There was anger in his voice as he leaned on his rifle. “This is Piyetten,” he gestured. “Ye friend Lilly invited him to join us.”
Piyetten stood a little taller than Roos, but far thinner. An unsure smile crossed his bruised face, revealing a gap were several teeth had been knocked out. He wore the same ragged clothes as before, only now there was blood mixed in with other stains. Attached to a narrow belt hung a curved goblin sword. I guessed he was about the same age as Lilly.
Piyetten appeared confused. Knowing Lilly, he probably expected more than what I actually was. I might’ve felt the same way I decided as I leaned my spear against the sod hut and looked inside. Next to Roos’ gear sat the Blood-Sword, lashed firmly into its scabbard. “I’m glad you survived, Piyetten,” I said. “You’ll want to be on your way after lunch. I’ve some food if you need it for travel.”
Piyetten ignored Roos’ nod of approval. He pointed to Lilly. “She said I could join you. I don’t look like much, but I’ve a strong back to carry supplies and I can use this sword.” He clutched the hilt hanging at his side. “I’m ready to be a mercenary.”
“Does he know what to expect tonight?” I asked Lilly. I wasn’t sure I was ready for the full moon to rise, and I knew Lilly.
“It doesn’t matter what happens tonight or where we go,” argued Piyetten. “Crusader Roos said you’re a mercenary. You can teach me to fight.”
I was sure that Piyetten had experienced some terrible things; That didn’t convince me he was ready to fight. Goblins are one thing. Giants, zombies, and sorcerers are another. I frowned, knowing I couldn’t discuss plans with him around.
“No,” I said.
“Why not?” asked Lilly. “He’s like me. Has no family, nowhere to go.”
“It’s true,” said Piyetten, almost pleading. “I escaped the salt mine before the goblins came. They surrounded it and captured the earth wizard. They collapsed the mine before burning the town. Killed everyone,” he gulped, “and made them into zombies.” His voice fell to a whisper. “Even youngens.”
I understood the mixture of disgust and horror Piyetten displayed as he told his tale. I’d battled zombies, several of which had been friends and fellow soldiers. I looked to Roos. “You know what we’re up against. What do you think?”
He thought a moment. “Forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those that are stumbling to slaughter.”
I scratched my head, getting the gist of the Crusader’s advice.
Lilly’s glare said she got it too. “Abandoning him here to fend for himself? If you do, Flank Hawk, do you think he’ll survive?”
“I have no intention of abandoning him out here. Strength in numbers, you say? He should have gone with the others Roos freed.”
“Go with them?” asked Piyetten. “They’re the ones that ran when that goblin jumped me.”
“He’s here,” said Lilly. “And he can help us. You wanted to leave me behind too.”
“Is he the same as you, Lilly?” I looked to Roos who shook his head. “You still have no idea what we’re up against.”
“I will follow you no matter,” said Piyetten, setting his hands on his hips. “Just like Lilly.”
We needed to discuss this without Piyetten around. “Go for a walk.”
“What, so you can get a head start?”
“Lilly,” I said, “convince your friend to go for a walk.”
“He’s staying with us,” she said, standing next to him with arms crossed.
I’d had it. “Really? Us?” I began shedding my satchel, new blankets and sacks of food. “Piyetten can stay the night with us. We’ll see what he thinks of you after that. And I hope it’s favorable because he isn’t going, and you’ve convinced me that you shouldn’t either.”
Her jaw dropped in shock. “No!” She sent a venomous glare at Roos. “It’s been your plan all along to get rid of me. Flank Hawk, you can’t stop me.” A wicked smile crossed her lips before she added, “I can swim faster than any ship leaving shore. I know you. You won’t let me drown.”
I turned and walked back into the hut. “I won’t have to.” I strapped the Blood-Sword across my back so its hilt stuck above my right shoulder. While I understood her desire to bring Piyetten along, I couldn’t allow it. He’d be one more to die. And the fact that Lilly had already conspired with Piyetten, to follow over my objection? I felt betrayed. My stomach churned, sending burning fluids up into my throat as I realized the blow my trust in Lilly had taken.
I sat cross-legged in the shade of the hut, watching Roos load his revolver. The fact that he loaded silver bullets didn’t escape me. I wondered if they were less valuable than the blessed ones he carried. Lilly sat just out of our earshot, facing her newest friend, Piyetten. By his wide eyes, I guessed she was explaining what would happen tonight.
Roos slid his revolver into its holster. “I told ye friend Lilly of my silver bullets.”
“How did she take that?”
“Ye friend did not laugh.” He frowned. “My jest was poor.” While polishing his bayonet he continued, “Lilly claims born to her curse. A true-blood, she says.”
It seemed odd for Roos to consistently refer to Lilly by name or she, rather than it. Their time together must’ve had some impact on the Crusader. I pulled Guzzy’s dirk from my boot and tested its edge on my thumbnail. “What does true-blood mean?”
“Ye friend will take the form of her beast. Not a hybrid as would one bitten and cursed.” He nodded toward my dirk. “Has silver in it?”
I nodded. “It was my cousin’s. Never holds an edge long.”
“If ye friend decides to attack you, Hawk, that weapon will do little to fend the beast off. Not before ye would be inflicted with her curse.”
“Do you think we need to worry about Lilly after the
rise of the full moon?”
“I believe not, friend Hawk. Thy friend Lilly has a fondness for thee.” He looked up toward her. “I counseled her against inviting the lad.”
Lilly turned to stare at Roos when he said that. Her eyes grew narrow when he said, “I pledged to slay ye friend should she threaten to bring the curse upon you or upon me. I will do the same if she brings it onto the lad.”
I looked away from Lilly, saddened at the turn of events.
Roos checked his steel cup. “Ye beans are finished soaking. I shall gather tinder for the branches ye gathered.”
I watched Roos march off the opposite direction of Lilly. I wasn’t sure what unsettled me more: Lilly’s impending change or Belinda the Cursed’s arrival and leaving Lilly behind. Deep down I hated to admit that our separation increased Lilly’s chances of survival. I wasn’t hungry.
All four of us sat around the fire, watching it flutter in a stiff breeze that hinted of rain. Without conversation, each of us was content to reflect on our own thoughts. I focused on plans to negotiate with the greater elf, a task that seemed totally beyond me. Bartering over the price of livestock or bushels of oats was one thing. When I matched wits with Belinda the Cursed, I was sure she somehow came out on top. What were my chances of obtaining something to stop the Necromancer King? I knew next to nothing about magic, and I was sure such knowledge would be crucial. Maybe Roos could advise me.
Lilly looked up, agitated at the darkening sky. A few heavy clouds raced past the stars coming into glitter. I followed her gaze and saw the rising moon just as she did. Her body stiffened. She stood, keeping her eyes on the round object. Taking shallow breaths, she strode away from the fire.
“Be careful, Lilly,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
She continued away from the fire without responding. Roos pulled the leather strap off the metal stud, releasing the holster flap covering his revolver. Piyetten sat with knees held tight to his chin, afraid to look away from the fire. I told him, “It’ll be okay.”