Kings and Daemons

by Marcus Lee

  He’d scoffed at the story, of how less than a thousand supposedly daemon-possessed warriors had almost routed the Witch-King’s army, putting paid to further conquest. Instead, he’d chose to believe that his father had lost his mind in his dotage. He’d killed him shortly after that, sickened by his apparent weakness.

  Yet now as he looked down the hill at a man he’d seen pierced by lance and sword, stand and rip the throat from his poor sergeant, he realised the truth of his father’s words.

  He licked his lips nervously.

  The men all around him sat in their saddles in deathly silence, not believing what they’d witnessed, awaiting his orders to charge, run this creature down, and avenge their fallen brothers.

  He drew breath, about to give the order, when movement below caught his eye. The daemon was running, and for just a split second he felt relief, but then he realised the creature wasn’t running away, it was running up the hill, running toward them.

  Its swords were in its hands, the fire from its eyes outshone the dying sun in the sky behind it, and the sound that screeched from its mouth was the most hideous noise he’d ever heard. The creature was attacking.

  The horses started to rear in panic, and it spread to the men in an instant. Suddenly, one of the lancers nearest Kasamda wheeled his horse around and galloped away. In all his years, Kasamda had never seen someone run; the consequences were just too hideous.

  But moments later, shouting with fear, more and more followed the man’s lead.

  Kasamda turned back to see the daemon closing in, then looked around frantically to find that he was all alone, not a single one of his men had stayed.

  His trembling hand lowered the lance, but as he turned back to face the daemon, he realised it was far too late. The daemon flashed by. For a moment he thought it had let him be and felt shame that he’d wet himself in panic, but realised as he looked down that it was his blood soaking his trousers instead.

  I’m sorry father, he thought. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Then everything went dark.

  Chapter XII

  Taran sat and thought back over the last few days.

  They’d covered a lot of distance, across all types of terrain, thanks to Maya setting a pace that while demanding was also achievable. She would run for fifty strides, then slow to a fast walk for twenty, alternating between the two, pushing forward then recovering while still on the move. It had been far better than trying to run all the time.

  At times they’d had to circle settlements, giving them a wide berth to ensure their presence remained undetected, and now they were currently camped in dense woodland after Rakan had suggested they break a little earlier than usual for the day. They were exhausted and needed more time to rest and recuperate. There was still no sign of pursuit, but that wasn’t to say that Rakan hadn’t grumbled and cursed in worry at the need to do so.

  Taran had shared his concern, for if Darkon and Lazard had escaped, then they would be following, and yet Darkon had been badly wounded, so maybe, just maybe, they were leaving those two far behind. But Rakan was sure they wouldn’t be the only ones who hunted them.

  So even as he’d collected firewood earlier in the afternoon, he’d stayed alert for danger, often stopping to listen, and his hand had never strayed far from the hilt of his sword. The task had been surprisingly more difficult than it should have been. Despite being in a forest, much of the wood had been damp and covered with mould making it unsuitable due to the thick smoke it would have produced, so he’d had to take time to find the driest he could.

  After that, Rakan had taken some time to show him how to create simple traps and alarms. Some were simple, designed to create noise. Small dry sticks slid under leaves so they remained unseen, but that would cause a loud snap to give an audible warning should a foot be placed upon them. Other nastier ones were hunting snares, adapted to spring a sharpened stick into any trespassers body. Nothing fatal to a human, but enough to cause shock, pain and alarm, giving warning to the camp.

  Maya had left to hunt as soon as they’d chosen the campsite. At the time, he and Rakan had both voiced concerns about her going out alone, but she’d pointed out that she was better off without them if they wanted her to return with any food.

  He’d nonetheless worried about her for a while and had wondered if she thought of him as often as he found himself thinking of her. It was strange. Never in his life had a woman kept his attention for more than a few drinks or perhaps a night. Her independent strength was rather attractive, but then he was finding a lot about her attractive of late.

  Now, as the light in the woods started to dim, he started preparing the campsite.

  He cleared the ground under the rocky outcrop for sleep and then set to creating a medium-sized fire pit. He dug into the soft ground, and lined the resulting pit with stones, then surrounded it with a half-circle of rocks. Next, he placed a couple of large flat rocks to create a roof, so that it would hold the heat, and stop the light from being seen as the opening was toward the rock face.

  Rakan came back into camp and raised his eyebrow as he picked up some more sticks and started carving the ends to sharp points. ‘Damn fine work,’ he said. ‘Just a shame we can’t do anything about the smell once you get the fire going, but at least there’s no wind, so the smoke won’t carry much tonight anyway.’

  Taran warmed under the genuine praise.

  It was getting quite dark. As Taran got the fire going he kept looking around, then to his relief saw Maya flitting amongst the trees, moving amongst the shadows. As she came into camp, Taran could see she carried a half dozen rabbits and a few birds. The pouches at her side seemed stuffed full as well.

  Rakan stomped off with a few more sharpened stakes as Maya sat down next to Taran in front of the fire. She unslung the game from around her shoulders, then pulled a knife and started to expertly skin the rabbits. She looked at Taran from under unruly hair, her face filthy.

  Despite the grime, her eyes shone brightly in the firelight and Taran noticed that her lips were red, parted, and definitely clean enough to ...

  ‘Hey,’ said Maya interrupting his thoughts. ‘Great work on making such an amazing fire, I’m sure you’ll make a great kitchen lady for a lord one day,’ and she smiled mischievously.

  ‘Hmmm,’ Taran replied. ‘I’m not sure how to take that, but then again you look like you’d either make a good butcher’s wife or a scarecrow. Take your pick.’

  Maya laughed as she looked through the veil of knotted hair in front of her face, then frowned. ‘You’re right. I do look and also feel disgusting. I think I might even smell more than Rakan does.’

  ‘It’s strange,’ said Taran, leaning forward, wrinkling his nose. ‘I think you do smell worse. In fact, I mentioned once that you smelt of bear and never got an answer. So why exactly do you smell that way?’

  Maya paused, then in a quiet voice told the story of the wolf and what had transpired after.

  Taran had heard parts of it before when they’d first talked, and yet still he was transfixed, not just by the words, but by her expressions. Maya’s hands moved as she spoke, weaving pictures in the air, and Taran was sorry when she finished.

  ‘I think I’ve been talking way too much,’ she said. ‘Now make yourself useful and pass me some of those sharpened sticks. Rakan can sacrifice a few of them for the sake of our dinner cooking properly and us having provisions for the next few days.’

  With that, she skewered the meat and had it sizzling over the fire before Rakan stomped back in and sat down on the other side of Taran.

  ‘I don’t feel safe here,’ Rakan complained. ‘Those traps I’ve put out might give us some warning, but we need to keep watch tonight. I’ll take the first shift while you two sleep, then it’ll be you Taran, followed by Maya. We sleep with swords unsheathed, and Maya, keep your bow strung and an arrow notched, you hear me?’

  Both Taran and Maya nodded. Taran unsheathed his blade and laying it down alongside his blanket as Maya di
d the same with her bow. Rakan lay his sword across his lap.

  ‘First things first. My stomach thinks my throat has already been cut. I’ve never been so hungry,’ grumbled Rakan.

  ‘Be patient,’ cautioned Maya, as Rakan burned his fingers on the flesh of a cooking rabbit as he tried to pull one from a skewer. ‘They’re almost done, but some we need to overcook because they need to keep for the next day or two without spoiling.’ She reached into her pouches and pulled out three large leaves onto which she put the berries and roots she’d discovered during her hunt, before adding the hot meat.

  ‘Dinner is served,’ she announced, before passing the largest of the portions to Rakan who nodded in gratitude. He tore into the meat, and the juices ran down over his chin and dripped onto his clothes.

  ‘Hey,’ said Taran in mock indignation. ‘How come he gets the wolf’s share?’

  Maya laughed. ‘Maybe it’s because he has the table manners of a wolf!’

  Both Rakan and Taran laughed with her. It was a rare happy moment, and Taran couldn’t help but wish there would be many more.

  They ate in companionable silence then. Taran continued to feed the flames, while Maya apportioned more food amongst them and then made food parcels for the days ahead.

  ‘Best let the fire die now, lad,’ said Rakan, ’and you two should get some shut-eye. We’ll head off about midday tomorrow I reckon, give ourselves time to recover fully, and maybe our huntress can find us some water.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Maya. ‘I’ve found some already. Tomorrow I’ll take Taran, and we’ll refill our water skins first thing.’

  Maya moved to her blanket and lay down on the ferns Taran had put down to soften the forest floor.

  Taran lay down as well, facing Maya, and gazed at her in the dying light of the fire's embers.

  Maya smiled sleepily back at him, eyes half-closed as exhaustion started to claim her. ‘You know,’ she said softly. ‘The first time I saw you all in uniform, scars upon your cheeks, I hated you like I hated all the other soldiers. There was nothing good to be seen in any of you. Never did I think for a moment that you were a prince in disguise who would rescue me from my doom.’

  Her eyes closed then as she snuggled down, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

  Then to Taran’s surprise, one of her legs snaked out from underneath, and her foot found and rested gently on his.

  ‘Good night, my prince,’ she whispered.

  Taran’s heart almost flipped in his chest, and he licked lips that were suddenly dry. ‘Goodnight my princess,’ he whispered back. But she was already fast asleep.

  -----

  Rakan’s eyes tried to pierce the darkness as he stood silently under the rocky outcrop. His sword was bare, but he kept it behind his back in case it caught and reflected any light, giving away his position.

  He breathed slowly and deeply, looked intently for thirty heartbeats in one direction before turning his eyes to another. He tried to memorise the shadows, so when he turned back again, he would see if there were any new ones. He never turned his head however, for if he were spotted, then a cunning assassin would only move when his attention was elsewhere. Move the eyes, not the head, yet in the dark, the eyes were one of the least useful senses, for it was his hearing that he relied upon the most.

  The rocky outcrop helped conceal them, but also gave any unwelcome visitors a veiled approach, so Rakan had placed over half the traps on its far side. He felt confident that if they were discovered, he would hear something and at least they could face their fate weapons in hand.

  His eyes flickered to the two youngsters, and he felt a strange sense of duty to protect them, especially the lad. Now it was apparent Taran was becoming fond of the girl, and he could see this was reciprocal, he worried for her too.

  Not forgetting that for the first time in years he could move without having to hide the pain from so many old injuries, all thanks to her gift. It was just a shame he likely wouldn’t live long enough to enjoy his newfound feeling of youth.

  The moon was moving across the sky, and Rakan knew he should wake Taran for his watch, but he let Taran sleep on. Keeping watch was a skill that Rakan had mastered over many years of being in the military, and while he knew the boy wouldn’t shirk this duty, neither did he fancy having his throat cut in his sleep because the boy had missed an approaching enemy.

  Seven more days he estimated, would get them to the base of the Forelorn mountains, and then he would have to convince old Laska that he was there on the Witch-King’s bidding, and they were to be shown the passage over the mountains and into the Freestates. Simple.

  Simple but likely doomed to failure. Rakan’s hopes rested on the unlikely premise that the Witch-King had overlooked this possible avenue of escape, and hadn’t contacted Laska or sent troops ahead.

  But, if they were lucky enough to be believed, the next worry was; why had so few agents made it across and back again over the years? Whatever the mountains held was something that chewed well-trained agents up with ease. So how it was possible that one tough old soldier, one gifted young lad, and a girl with skills in healing and hunting would succeed, was beyond his skills at foretelling.

  Then he smiled to himself, for the three of them had recently defeated five Rangers and four soldiers, while in his past, dozens of his enemies lay cold in the ground. ‘By all the gods I wouldn’t bet against us!’ he breathed.

  His mind settled, he focussed again on the gloom. Let the youngsters sleep, for he would sleep again when they were safe, or when he was dead.

  -----

  Kalas reached the top of the hill, the sound of his breath coming in gasps, loud to his ears in the confines of his helm. Tearing it off, he laughed in sheer relief to still be alive when he thought he had charged to meet his doom. Even the daemon’s laughter in his mind seemed truly joyful, untainted by darkness.

  The blood rush left him, and his hands shook as he took the time to look around. The fleeing cavalry were heading east, and in the distance another group rode toward them. It wouldn’t be long before they came back to finish him off. He swore loudly, realising they were between him and his quarry.

  Kalas started a gentle run down the west side of the hill, backtracking his earlier path toward the woods. There were so many cavalry, and he couldn’t afford to be in open ground for his luck surely wouldn’t hold again.

  The daemon whined and cried its displeasure at being so close but now so far from their prey. He soothed it unconsciously within his mind, making promises of blood and life if only it were patient, and it settled down, mewling a little like a kitten demanding milk.

  He entered the shadow of the trees as around three hundred lancers reached the crest of the hill from whence he came. Some of the men rode down to investigate the bodies strewn about the grass, and carrion birds protested noisily, as they took to the air having only just started to feast.

  Kalas stepped back deeper into the shadows, and then let the daemon light flood from his eyes. The men on the hill all looked in his direction then. He could imagine the chill they would feel as it ran down their spines, as they realised the story the fleeing cavalry had told was true. If they took the risk and followed him into the dense forest, he wanted them scared, jumping at every shadow, not flooding in like an unstoppable tide.

  He screamed, letting the daemon take his voice, its howl a promise of horrors beyond imagining, making the distant horses shy away, then laughed in relief as the troop dismounted without approaching further.

  The taste of the girl's blood and life would be his to enjoy sooner or later; he just needed to be patient. With that, Kalas hunkered down and thought of the slaughter to come to help pass the time.

  -----

  Taran awoke with a start, feeling strangely refreshed. Light filtered through the trees, and he sat upright. Rakan sat opposite him, smiling.

  ‘You needed the sleep,’ Rakan said gruffly. ‘You youngsters have no stamina.’

  Taran turned his head to see
Maya already up, readying a brief breakfast from the last night’s leftovers, and he felt a little disappointed he’d not awoken to find her sleeping next to him. She came over and gave him a large leaf full of meat, fruits and roots.

  ‘Hey,’ said Rakan. ‘How comes he gets so much this morning?’

  Maya scowled down at Taran. ‘I think If he snores like a bear, he should eat like one too.’ But the kind smile in her eyes offset the words. She ruffled Taran’s hair gently as she walked past to give Rakan his breakfast. ‘Don’t worry, there’s plenty for you too. I feel so very safe protected by two of the wildest animals in the forest; a wolf and a bear,’ and she laughed merrily as she sat down to join them.

  They ate in silence, although Taran thought, sitting next to Rakan when he ate was hardly silent. How could someone eat so noisily?

  ‘Right, I’m going to take Taran here as my bodyguard while we get some water,’ announced Maya, and she rose, sweeping up the water skins, leaving Taran to get to his feet quickly to catch up with her.

  Taran looked briefly at Rakan.

  Rakan smiled back at him. ‘Go on lad. I’ll break camp. You look after the girl.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ thought Taran as he hurried after Maya, ‘bodyguard,’ and liked the sound of the title. As Maya led him swiftly up and down small inclines through the trees, what amazed Taran was Maya’s unerring sense of direction. She moved through woodland, that to Taran looked the same in every direction, with confidence and purpose as though she’d travelled this way a hundred times before. However, as time passed, Taran briefly considered whether she was lost; but any doubts fled when they crested a small rocky rise.

  There below them was a spring-fed pool with water trickling down a rock face, to gather in the hollow below. It was a large pool that no doubt had once provided life to many of the woodland animals.

  ‘Oh my,’ exclaimed Taran, holding his nose. The water was now green with slime as were the rocks, and the smell of wet wood, the foul water, and rotting vegetation was overwhelming. Taran stood a little shocked, then realised Maya must be testing him. ‘We can’t drink this. I’m no woodsman, but this will make us sick if not kill us. We’d be better off just eating berries than taking a sip of this. Now, where is the drinking water that you found, is it nearby?’