Executioner- Reign of Blood

by Edwin McRae

  “A cake made out of cow meat?” wondered a bemused Vari.

  Arix gave her a wry grin. “Built like a brick shithouse.”

  Vari’s confused expression was very cute and Mark had to laugh, albeit softly. “He means heavily-muscled.”

  “Oh, like a flesh boulder.”

  Now it was Mark and Arix’s turn to look confused.

  “It’s a Karaji saying,” explained Vari.

  “Yeah,” agreed Arix, almost succeeding in keeping a straight face. “I prefer to keep my flesh boulders in my pants, but if you Karaji like to have them roaming about the countryside, far be it from me to judge.”

  Vari looked to Mark for help. Mark rolled his eyes. “Arix is now referring to his testicles.”

  Vari wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Could we stick to the topic at hand, please?”

  “Oh, I always keep my bollocks at hand, darling. Would be a tragedy to misplace them.”

  “Arix!” warned Mark.

  It was Arix’s turn to roll his eyes. “Fine fine, Mister and Missus Grimsby. This sergeant, she moves like a killer too, so I’d hate to think how many fights she’s seen the better side of. The scars on her face and arms tell the same story.”

  “What color is her hair?”

  “Are you kidding me? Reivers change hair color more often than they change their underpants.”

  Vari nodded. “For once, Arix and I agree on something.”

  “Was it platinum?” pressed Mark.

  “Yeah, actually, it was.”

  Mark looked to Vari. Their eyes met, and Mark could see that Vari was thinking the same thing. Arix was talking about Dayna’s murderer.

  “You two met this lady before?” asked Arix.

  “Yep,” answered Mark softy. “She killed a friend of ours.”

  “Then what are we waiting for? We kill the sergeant and capture her boss. Vengeance and info in one tidy package.”

  Mark clenched his teeth against the rising heat within him. It was tempting, to put Dayna’s murderer in the ground, but this was about Garland, not revenge. In RL, his mother always labeled him too timid or accused him of being a chronic procrastinator. In RL, he was inclined to agree with her. Here, he’d been through too much for anyone to mistake him for timid. He looked over at Vari and took a moment to soak her in, her smooth chocolate skin, her dark, glistening eyes, her cascade of jet black hair. No, he wasn’t timid or a procrastinator. He just had a lot to lose.

  “Are you sure this inquisitor will know where the source of the corruption is?” asked Mark.

  Arix shook his head. “No, but nothing’s ever one hundred percent. I just think she’s our next best hope. I mean, she’s there to find artifacts, so she must have read up on whatever history there is of the place.

  “Like the Altar of Khorlvah?” asked Vari.

  “Yeah, but from what I heard, that’s just one item on her shopping list.”

  Vari squeezed Mark’s hand. “What do you think, Mark?”

  He smiled. “I was going to ask you the same question.”

  She shrugged. “Over two hundred reivers, and we’ve both seen what the sergeant can do.”

  “Maybe we could take some of these rangers with us,” suggested Arix. “Seems like there’s more than enough to guard Citadel.”

  “No,” answered Mark, a little too sharply. “I won’t be responsible for any more deaths.”

  He looked at Vari, about to say more, but she silenced him with a frown. “Don’t go thinking you’re responsible for me, Mark. If I die out there, it’ll be my own stupid fault.”

  “You go girl,” quipped Arix.

  Vari shot him down with an obsidian glare. “Be a good executioner and execute some restraint when it comes to voicing your false niceties.”

  Arix shrunk back into his chair and pressed his finger to his lips. “Forget I spoke,” he squeaked, both knees now jiggling furiously. The floorboards creaked in protest, and that’s when irritation turned into an idea for Mark.

  “Did you hear all this, Sid?” he asked.

  “I did, yes.”

  “Could you also hear Arix’s jittery legs?”

  “At first, yes. I had to withdraw my consciousness from the floor so I could concentrate on the conversation.”

  Surprised, Arix stilled his legs. “I’m a kinaesthetic. Movement helps me think.”

  Mark ignored him. “You can shift your consciousness around?”

  “Within the confines of this fortress, yes.”

  “Sorry, bear with me here, but if I moved the fortress, would you stay with the land or travel with the building?”

  The question seemed to catch Citadel by surprise and there was a long silence as he mulled over an answer.

  “Um, I just want to point out,” interrupted Arix, “that the longer we wait, the more chance Karina has of finding her other artifacts and fucking off back to Credence.”

  “If my theory plays out here, that may not matter,” Mark assured him.

  Arix didn’t look reassured. If anything, he looked a little pissed off, like something he wanted very badly was slipping through his fingers.

  “I am the stones of this fortress and they are me,” Citadel finally answered. “I go where they go.”

  “Okay, cool. Then I have just two more questions. One, could you shift your entire consciousness into a single stone?”

  “I...I actually have no idea,” admitted Citadel. “I’ve never tried.”

  “Could you try now?”

  “Alright. Give me a moment.”

  The fortress rumbled. The rafters, door frames and floorboards creaked, the sounds of an old house settling in for the night after a hot summer’s day.

  “Well I’ll be.” Citadel’s voice, while the same tone and timbre, sounded much smaller. And rather than coming from everywhere at once, it seemed to be projecting from just behind Mark, near the study door. “I am now officially haunting the stone directly to the right of the door catch.”

  “That’s really impressive, Sid,” complimented Vari. “Your proprioception must be extraordinarily sensitive.”

  “I know the feeling,” quipped Arix. “My prostate is extraordinarily sensitive too, especially when my girlfriend strokes it by putting her finger-”

  “I’m referring,” interrupted Vari, “to Sid’s awareness of his own body.”

  “Yeah, it was a joke, Vari,” answered Arix. “I know what proprioception is.”

  “A pity you don’t know what a joke is,” snapped Vari.

  “Oi! Shoosh, you two,” insisted Mark and he knelt so that he was at eye-level with Citadel’s stone. He tapped the stone three times. “Sid? Can you feel that?”

  “The first one felt like a hammer blow to the skull so I withdrew into the stone’s core so as to dull the subsequent assaults.”

  “Sorry. We’ll make sure you have a nice, comfy satchel or something for travel.”

  “Travel?!” squeaked Sid.

  “Yes. I was hoping you’d come to the Barrens with us.”

  “Why?”

  “Stress fractures in stone, that’s caused by earth movement, right?”

  “Mark!” exclaimed Vari. “That’s genius!”

  Mark blushed and his smile made his cheeks ache. Yes, he was feeling rather proud of himself.

  “Oh, I see,” said Sid. “You want me to sense the tremors that will lead you to the source of the corruption!”

  “Only if it’s not too much trouble for you, Sid.”

  “To feel fresh earth beneath me, to sense the contours of rugged new climes and exotic architecture? That would be simply astounding, Mark.”

  “So I can take that as a ‘yes’?”

  “Emphatically.”

  Mark stood and turned to Vari and Arix. “There we have it. The Chasms of Corruption quest continues.”

  Congratulations!

  The Chasm of Corruption Quest has been reinstated in your quest log.

  “Mohkash of the Flowing Waters agrees with you,
Mark.” Vari stood and hugged him. “I think Braemar would’ve been proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Vari.”

  He looked across at Arix and saw a flicker of anger cross the gamer’s face before it was lost in a seemingly genuine smile.

  “Well done, mate. Most astute.”

  Mark nodded his thanks, but inside he was wondering just how much he should really trust the executioner. His motive was painfully clear now. He had wanted Mark and Vari to help him hunt Inquisitor Karina because she was the only person who might know how to log him out of Reign of Blood. The fact that he hadn’t just come out and said so, that was the troubling bit. Mark decided he was going to have to play his cards close to his chest where Arix the Damned was concerned.

  12

  [Karina]

  Karina pulled her kerchief up over her nose to block the putrid aroma of rotting flesh. Maribella seemed not to mind the stink. She was kneeling by one of the corpses, inspecting the dead soldier’s armor.

  “This gear’s better than ours. Greaves, cuisses for everyone,” Maribella ordered the assembled reivers. “Breastplates too for the scouts and archers.”

  “Begging your pardon, captain,” answered one of the archers. She was a stocky young woman with scarlet hair that was shaved on the sides and tied up in a topknot. “Dez and I can’t wear breastplates. Gets in the way of our draw.”

  “I know that, Tris. Strap the fucking thing to your back so you don’t get knifed while aiming.”

  “Oh. Thanks, captain. Didn’t think of that.”

  Karina allowed herself a smirk. Maribella had done as she asked. Two archers, two men-at-arms and two scouts, each as stupid or psychotic as the next one. She watched as her small troop salvaged armor from the withered bodies. The magic that had mummified and preserved them was gone. Most pieces had to be scraped out and then polished clean with dry dirt. Maribella offered her a breastplate but Karina pulled down the collar of her shirt to reveal the blue-tinted sheen of her chainmail vest.

  The captain raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Can’t say I’ve seen that metal before, madam. That something you inquisitors cooked up?”

  “Indeed it is. Take high-grade steel and apply lightning to galvanise it. Skyforged steel, we call it. It’s a time consuming and rather expensive process.”

  “How expensive?”

  “A soldier’s annual pay.”

  “Not too bad. Might start saving up.”

  “Per link, captain. Per link.”

  That produced a stunned silence and the faintest twinkle of avarice in the captain’s eyes. Karina cooled her down with an icy smile.

  “The penalty for a non-inquisitor found in possession of skyforged steel is an extended period of suffering far beyond the point where the recipient begs for execution.”

  The harbingers of a scowl twitched at the corners of her eyes and mouth as Maribella turned to her soldiers. “Dez and Tris, find shooting positions and skewer anything that’s not us. Kravel and Durk, with me. Serna and Colik, have a snoop around.”

  “Anything you want us to keep an eye out for, captain?” asked Colik. He was a wiry greyhead, not much different to the mummified corpses that lay about them. Karina wasn’t sure how old he was, but he’d already shown himself to be as agile and tireless as a mountain goat.

  “More of her,” answered Maribella, pointing at the statue that languished in the chasm nearby. “Agrovesh. She’s a war goddess,” explained Karina. She encompassed their surroundings with a sweep of her hand. “This was the headquarters of the Vorasii Legion, once the mightiest army in the world.”

  “Guess they didn’t know us reivers then,” growled Kravel.

  The others laughed while Karina offered them a patient smile. “Your tiny brain would bleed at the mere sight of the Vorasii Legion in full force, Kravel. Just feel fortunate that your eyes will only witness the fading epilogue of their once glorious story.”

  That got an even bigger laugh, but Karina knew it was because she’d said Kravel had a tiny brain. They likely didn’t understand the rest of it. She felt a pang of loneliness, one she quelled immediately. Yes, she often felt like a stranger in her own culture, but that only made her stronger. You had to be far above it all to truly see the big picture.

  “Be on the lookout for shrines, temples, anywhere these legionnaires would worship their goddess,” she ordered.

  “Yes, madam,” confirmed Colik.

  The grey goat and his lean offsider jogged off towards one of the larger buildings that bordered the parade ground. Judging by the majesty and ornate nature of the structure, it was where she would’ve started looking too. So far it seemed that the captain had chosen her people wisely. Half conscious yet highly capable. A perfect combination in a minion.

  The archers left to take up their positions while Karina led Maribella and the two lumbering men-at-arms over to the chasm. Kravel was as bulbous as Durk was tall. The pair reminded her of the bat and ball used in a game of Diamond. She found their muscled masses quite comforting. Plenty of metal-clad meat to hide behind should someone or something start shooting at her.

  Although the depths of the chasm were submerged in inky darkness, Karina didn’t think there was anything lurking beneath that midnight surface. Not at the moment, at least. She’d been honing her Sparks of Sentience skill since her first foray into the Barrens. The ability allowed her to sense the energy produced by the brain, human or otherwise. The larger and more active the grey matter, the more obvious the energy signature. Although the Barren’s denizens weren’t exactly what she’d call “intellectual giants”, most still gave off enough energy to be identified up to a distance of about thirty meters, further if she invested some EP. Which is what she did now, probing deeper into the black, scouring it for signs of life. Nothing. The chasm had emptied its belly into the parade ground.

  Karina left the chasm’s edge and picked her way through the battlefield, flanked by her human shields. Maribella brought up the rear.

  The inquisitor pointed out the blackened line of burned corpse soldiers. “If I recall correctly, you saw the warlock breathe fire at Captain Serik?”

  “As far as I could tell, madam. I was choking on my own blood at the time, so not totally sure I saw things straight.”

  “Well, judging by the burn patterns, these deadmen were all set alight within the same moment. If just one had been set alight, perhaps by a torch, we would see more variation in the char as the fire spread from victim to victim. Yes, I suspect your warlock friend is here in the Barrens somewhere.”

  Maribella scowled and there was a murderous glint in her eyes. “That fucker and his bitches massacred our company.”

  “Then I would be happy to facilitate your vengeance. Garland’s conquest is long overdue and removing that obstacle would please our betters most mightily.”

  “Begging your pardon, madam, but I won’t be taking anyone’s opinion into account when I shove my sword through his bowels.”

  “The glory of our empire is built upon the collective glory of its citizens, captain.”

  “Thank you, madam.”

  Karina crossed to a patch of bloodstained dirt. “One of them fell here.” She knelt down and scrutinized the scene. She picked out a hair from the mess of dried grey matter and splintered bone. It shone a light copper when held to the sun. “Your report mentioned a red-haired druid?”

  “Yes, madam. He created the quicksand that I fell into, and brought the wall down that crushed Serik.”

  “We don’t need to worry about him then.” She motioned to a spear lying nearby, its head caked in dried blood. “Regrettably, his death was quick and painless.”

  She stood and walked over to the other line of corpses. She nudged a broken leg with her boot, noting how the shin bone had broken without any sign of exterior force. “The Karaji Figurist snapped your forearm, did she not?” Karina noted the captain’s involuntary shudder with quiet amusement.

  “Yes, madam. Sculpt Bone spell, if I heard her co
rrectly.”

  “You did, and it seems these deadmen suffered it also.” She swept her eyes across the battlefield, confident in her summations. “Once we add the axe wounds into the mix, it would appear that the warlock and his companions helped facilitate our demon’s escape. They came here, probably to investigate the chasm, and subsequently lost their druid.”

  “That means they’re close,” growled Maribella, her hand instinctively dropping to the pommel of her sword.

  “Yes.”

  Your Mind’s Eye ability has increased to Tier 4.

  Your chance of an intuitive leap when assessing a situation has increased to 25%.

  Karina nodded with satisfaction. She’d spent too much time in the library and torture chamber of late, neglecting some of her more pragmatic abilities. It was nice to be in the field again.

  “We should follow the warlock,” urged Maribella. “Kill him and that Figurist bitch. Recapture the demon.”

  “No.” Karina fixed her with a cool, ‘remember your place’ look. “We shall locate and recover the Altar of Agrovesh.”

  “We’re going to let the demon escape with the warlock? Surely that’s-”

  “Calm yourself, captain, before you say something you will regret over many an agonising hour.”

  Maribella closed her mouth with an audible clack of teeth.

  “Good girl. And rest assured that we shall make our amends in the fullness of time. Once we have all three altars, our demon and our warlock shall melt away like shadows before the Breaking Dawn.”

  As if on cue, a distant whistle cut through the tension between them. It was Colik, waving from the balcony of a tall, thin structure that leaned precariously against its more sturdy neighbor. Karina was reminded of a drunk propped up against a wall so he wouldn’t topple over while he took a piss.

  “He moves quickly for an old goat,” remarked Karina, rather impressed.

  “Colik spent most of his younger years as a mule for the starweed gangs in the Bardruls. The starweed got the better of him in the end. Only reason a patrol was able to corner the wily bastard. He chose to sign up rather than hang.”