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The Soul Forge

Page 4

by Andrew Lashway


  “Oh Gods…” the woman replied, helping him to his feet. “Not that I don’t believe you, but do you have any proof of this?”

  Thomas nodded, lifting his hand which had the emblem in it. She took it from him, studying it for only a second before nodding once.

  “Come with me, dear.”

  “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but who are you?”

  She helped him off of the floor with a sweet smile. He noticed she had a spare tooth on the left side of her mouth, and he couldn’t suppress a smile of his own.

  “I am Chancellor Valerium,” she replied. Thomas’ jaw immediately dropped, and he felt his face burn red. Dressed in a long black cloak that hid everything but her face, Thomas never would have guessed that it was the Chancellor.

  “I’m… terribly sorry, ma’am, I never saw you in person before…”

  “That’s fine, dear, just try to keep walking,” she said. Thomas belatedly realized that he had stopped, his shock forcing everything else from his mind. He started walking again, trying not to lean heavily on the Chancellor and failing miserably.

  She carried him to the front, passing rows of benches and candles. He briefly considered asking what this place was before deciding it could wait.

  Chancellor Valerium set him down beside a bowl of water, which she used to sponge off his face. He didn’t know what it was, but her touch made him feel better by the second. His vision was clearing, and he felt the sting from his many cuts and bruises start to fade.

  She briefly called to a guard, and had him take Thomas’ message, and proof, to the King. Once this was done, she returned her full attention to Thomas.

  “What was that thing? That emblem?” Thomas asked, immediately regretting wasting breath on the question.

  “That was a Captain’s Seal,” Chancellor Valerium replied, “only to be surrendered if something terrible has happened. As you are carrying and the Captain is not, it is proof of your claims.”

  Thomas considered telling her that the Captain had also been about to murder him, but he felt it wasn’t necessary. The man had done the right thing in the end.

  “You were very brave to bring this news to us. What is your name?”

  “I’m… Thomas, ma’am,” he replied with a credible attempt at a smile. “I’m from the Kimpchik farm.

  “So you’re Thomas Kimpchik, then?” she asked.

  “No ma’am. Thomas Finn. I just work at the farm. Mighty nice people there, even little Ms. Anna.”

  It wasn’t until he started talking about them that he realized how badly he missed them. He wrung his hands together, surprised when they didn’t hurt.

  “How do you feel?” Chancellor Valerium asked, stroking his hair.

  “Better now, ma’am, thank you kindly. But I should be getting on my way. A friend of mine has gone to warn the elves, and I need to check on her.”

  “The elves?” the Chancellor repeated, “you also warned the elves?”

  “Well, yes ma’am. I figure these brigands aren’t only our problem. It’d be better everyone knows, so no one else has to die.”

  “These brigands,” she asked, “what did they look like?”

  “Don’t rightly know,” he replied, “they were dressed in black and had black swords. No banners, no markings. Nothing like that.”

  “How did you escape?” she said as her hand rested on his thigh. He didn’t move a muscle.

  “Some of the guards were in the village, and they tried to fight them off. Gave us some time to escape. Gave their lives for me…”

  He trailed off as the thought took hold, and a whirlwind of emotion poured through him. True, the guards were going to mercilessly kill him, but at the end they had showed why they were guards in the first place. Thomas lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, feeling it crinkle under his touch.

  Thomas leaned forward, burying his head in his hands. So much destruction… so much death. Thomas couldn’t handle it. There was just so much reckless hate, so much undeserved malice. People, innocent people, had died today. People that were just trying to live.

  He felt a burning growing in his stomach, a fire that reached his eyes and gave him new life.

  “I must be going, ma’am,” Thomas said, standing up. She joined him, her hand on his shoulder.

  “You need to rest,” she said, pushing his shoulder to get him to sit back down, but he didn’t budge.

  “No ma’am,” he replied, “I need to find out who did this. I won’t get any peace until I know.”

  “We’ll have an inquiry, we’ll find out…” she started to say, but Thomas shook his head.

  “I understand, ma’am, and I know y’all will do your best. But there’s something I can do to help, and I’ve gotta do it.”

  “I… I understand,” she replied, “go look for your answers. But be careful. Whoever these men are, they are not to be crossed.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am,” he replied as he headed for the door. He felt stronger now, somehow, either from the Chancellor’s remedy or his new purpose. Either way, he was ready for the trip.

  He opened the doors and headed for Lucille. The horse looked bored, staring at him with a vacant expression. She was probably daydreaming. He was about to mount her when he realized he would be better off if she were properly equipped. That meant he would to find a saddle from somewhere in town.

  “Well, come on now. We have work to do.”

  Lucille followed along as he walked the path back to the Town Square. It was still bustling with activity, and this time no one seemed to notice the outsider amongst them. What he wouldn’t give for a bath and a change of clothes.

  He and Lucille passed many shops, but none of them offered a saddle. It was only after he found himself outside of a tavern that he realized it wouldn’t have mattered if he found a saddle, as he didn’t have any money.

  Thomas stopped in his tracks, at a loss as to what he should do. The people moved around him like a creek around a boulder, and still he did not move. He finally shook himself of his dread and walked down a random side street.

  He was completely unaware that he was being followed.

  “You seem at a loss, stranger,” a voice to Thomas’ left said. He turned to it, raising an eyebrow. The voice… it made his skin crawl. It was like the voice at the end of a very long tunnel that should be ignored.

  Thomas was about to do just that when the voice spoke again.

  “Perhaps I can help you… remedy your current situation.”

  The owner of the voice stepped forward, and Thomas got a good look. His only thought was that he had seen a fair number of beautiful women today, but this one…

  This one wore her attractiveness like she wore her clothing: open and fully displayed. She was nearly as tall as he, with long legs almost completely exposed to the world thanks to a long slit in her dress. Her blouse was white and unbuttoned, tempting Thomas to shift his gaze from her face. Luckily, that wasn’t too taxing.

  She had fiery red hair that ran in curls down her back, with glowing green eyes that Thomas had to focus on not focusing on. She had a smile that was almost creepy the way it moved up the right side of her mouth.

  It would have been tempting save for the feeling of mistrust crawling up his spine.

  “Come a little closer, let’s talk,” she said, batting her eyelashes.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but I think I’d rather not.”

  “Oh,” she pouted, “and why not?”

  “Cause you sure are pretty and all, but I just got the feelin’ you’re bad news.”

  She laughed then, her smile only growing wider. Then she waved her hand, and before Thomas could react something very hard hit him over the head.

  He fell to his knees, the world spinning around him. Before he could say or do anything, he slumped forward and the world was wiped away.

  “Why not just find someone else? An actual volunteer?”

  “Because no one volunteers for suicide missions
that actually expect to see them completed. We need someone who wants to live. And that’s him.”

  Thomas’ ears relayed the conversation to his brain before he was actually aware that he was awake. He wanted to groan, but he stifled the impulse so that he could hear the rest of the conversation.

  “There’s no way he’s going to agree,” a male voice said. It sounded light and almost comical, like a child who’d yet to come of age.

  “Oh, he’ll agree,” a female voice answered him. The way Thomas’ skin crawled informed him that he was once again hearing her.

  “Why? We’ve got no leverage.”

  “Yes we do. Just you wait and see. Wake up, little hero, I have need of you.”

  Thomas debated simply lying there, but he didn’t see any reason in delaying. With a slight groan, he sat up, but instantly fell back down as his head throbbed in terrible pain.

  “Sorry about that,” the woman said, “but if you’d just come inside we wouldn’t have had to do this the hard way.”

  “Apology accepted,” Thomas said with ill-disguised scorn, “but I don’t think that gives you the right to kidnap me.”

  “Oh, we’re not kidnapping you,” she laughed, “you’ll be free to go as soon as we finish our little talk.”

  Thomas may not have had that much experience when it came to people and their intentions, but even he knew better than to accept this at face value – no matter how pretty the face that was offering it.

  “And what is it you want to talk about?” he asked, looking around the room. There were lit candles and barrels, but little else. There were also three people standing around, one short boy with a full head of black hair and a birthmark on his right cheek. He didn’t look older than twelve, but his eyes said differently. Two other men stood at his side. They appeared to be twins with blond hair and a parallel scar on their cheeks. They also were both built like small mountains.

  “We have a job offer for you,” the woman said, sitting next to him on the impromptu bed composed of a table. Their thighs touched, and she looked at him almost bashfully. If it wasn’t for the fact that a chill ran up his spine, Thomas may have done something rash then and there.

  “A job? Doing what?” Thomas’ eyes narrowed. Somehow, he doubted this was a job he would readily apply for.

  “We need something… procured,” the woman responded, “from a client. If you collect it, we’ll be able to reward you for your efforts.”

  Thomas knew he should turn her down flat, but to do so in their territory where he was not only an outsider but completely at their mercy seemed a foolish thing to do. Stalling for time, he replied, “and what’s this item?”

  “A staff. That once belonged to King Ofan the Dark Priest.”

  Thomas’ blood ran cold. Even he knew that name, and the vile deeds attached to it. Wars had been waged, people had died because of that name. Their entire civilization had been threatened because of that name.

  And this woman wanted him to steal something with that name attached to it? Not likely.

  “Sorry sweetheart. But I want nothing to do with this.”

  “Oh don’t be so quick. You haven’t heard the best part.”

  Thomas made to stand up, but her hand was suddenly on his thigh and he found he couldn’t move it.

  “What’s the best part?” Thomas asked out of necessity, not curiosity.

  “If you don’t help us… a lot of people are going to die.”

  Thomas looked at her, eyes wide. “W… what?”

  “You see, we aren’t the only ones that want the staff. And if our competition gets it, they are going to start a war with it.”

  “Start a…” Thomas simply stared at her, his mind unable to process – or believe – what she was telling him. “How? Why? Tell me from the beginning, what’s goin’ on here.”

  “I will… but only if you promise you’ll help.”

  “I ain’t promising a thing, ma’am. Cause I don’t know if anything you’re saying is true. For all I know, you’re the ones planning on hurting people.”

  “We have our sources. The castle will be invaded, tonight, by a group of well-trained assassins. They’ll be trying to get the staff and return it to the Dark Priest.”

  “The Dark Priest is dead,” Thomas interrupted, “killed by General Chromwell.”

  “And General Chromwell put the staff into a vault,” the woman continued, “we need to get it first. You have no idea the power that staff has.”

  “This doesn’t make sense. None of it.”

  The woman looked torn, but eventually she shrugged and snapped her fingers. Immediately, one of the twins turned and walked out of the room, and he heard a familiar whinny sound from the back room.

  “Look,” the woman said, “we don’t have time to debate this. You’ve got a pretty horse, and…”

  “You hurt…” Thomas choked out, a rage he had so rarely felt pouring through his blood, “one hair on that horse…”

  She held up a hand to silence him. “We won’t hurt the horse as long as you cooperate. I’m sorry, I really am, but we have no time.”

  Thomas shook in his anger, but he knew his hands were tied. He wouldn’t risk any hurt coming to the horse.

  “What…” he could almost feel the bile crawling up his throat as the words were torn from him, “what do I have to do?”

  The woman, for her part, did legitimately look saddened at what she was forcing him to do, but that hardly mollified him. All he could do was go along with the job, and hope against hope that he could find a way out of this mess.

  Chapter 5: Wooden Nightmares

  Under the cover of nightfall, Thomas moved as quietly as he was able towards the concrete walls that blocked off the castle. Bathed and given a new set of clothes, he would have been grateful save for the blackmail he was operating under.

  Though to be fair, his role in the theft was rather simple.

  “Help!” Thomas shouted as he approached the castle gate. The two guards stationed there turned to him, one drawing his sword just in case. Thomas limped forward, holding his leg to sell the deception. The guards moved towards him, and he collapsed to the cold stone street.

  “What’s happened to you?”

  “I was…” Thomas coughed, inventing a stomach injury, “attacked by two thugs. They were twins, I think…”

  “The Trask twins?” one of the guards said as he helped Thomas to his feet. Thomas reached out and grabbed hold of the other guard as well, ostensibly using him for support.

  In reality, the aforementioned twins used the opportunity to sneak past the guards and into the guard shack. Thomas didn’t look at them, letting the guards either help him or leave him there. He had fulfilled his purpose.

  The sound of commotion reached his ears, and Thomas almost swore. Looking towards the source, he heard several shouts and then an alarm rang out.

  “Stay with him!” one of the guards yelled, running for the raised portcullis that usually guarded the entrance. The other guard put his arm around Thomas, helping the former stable boy stand. Then there was a scream of pain and fear, and the guard immediately set Thomas down to lend aid.

  That guard disappeared into the darkness, leaving Thomas alone on the cold stone. He lay there, his pretend injuries forgotten, when he heard a whisper he would have very much liked to ignore.

  “Thomas, something’s gone wrong! Get in there!”

  He turned to see the woman hiding in the shadows, motioning him to get moving. Thomas looked at the darkness of the castle courtyard, and hesitated. If something was in there that neither the twins nor the guards could handle, the odds weren’t in his favor.

  But Lucille was on the line, and so Thomas picked himself up off of the floor and ran into the unwelcome dark.

  The moment he crossed the threshold, the sounds of battle reached his ears. He immediately hid behind a bush as he tried to determine what was going on.

  He could barely make out the twins, engaged in battle with black-c
loaked intruders. Sword met sword in a clash of sparks as the combatants circled each other. The twins stood back to back, guarding each other’s flank as their dueling partners tried to breach their defenses. Thomas was lost in the back and forth of the battle as steel clashed.

  The bush rustled beside Thomas, almost making him jump out of his skin. A moment later, he was joined by the woman, looking very disheveled.

  “Okay, change of plan,” she said in his ear.

  “What’s goin’ on here?” Thomas asked, gesturing to the battle.

  “No idea. No idea who these men are. But the twins should be able to handle them. Unfortunately, there goes the element of surprise. So we’re – you and I – are going to have to sneak in and steal the staff.”

  “No way,” Thomas said, “I did my part. I distracted the guards.”

  “Yes, you did. But this is so much more important now. Don’t you see? If other people are trying to steal the staff…”

  “We’ve got no proof that’s why they’re here. They could be here for a hundred different reasons.”

  The woman nodded, but her face split into a smile. “Would any of those reasons let you sleep soundly tonight?”

  Thomas had no answer, mulling over the options. They could be thieves after the same prize, or they could be assassins looking to end the King’s rule. Any way he thought about it, he couldn’t believe the black-garbed attackers were there for any saintly purpose.

  Then again, neither was he. But when it all came down to it, the woman was right, and he had a job to do.

  “Where we goin’?” he finally said, and his voice carried every ounce of his regret.

  “That way,” the woman pointed, “towards the stained glass on the left of the stairs.”

  Thomas immediately started running in the direction that she pointed. The window in question was the picture of the King, holding in one hand a golden scepter while in the other he was casting out a dark figure covered in black and purple – the Dark Priest, Thomas had to assume.

  The woman smashed the picture to shards with the butt of a sword.

  “Here,” she said, offering the weapon to Thomas.

 

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