“I’m not sure that I believe you,” Eder sighed, shaking his head. “But thank you. You’re one of the only people who ever believed I could do something worthwhile.”
Kane’s stomach lurched, not unpleasantly, as the strange sensation of falling overtook him, this time even more muted and further away. The less intense the feeling became, the more he found himself wanting it to come back, to return to full strength and overwhelm him. That was temptation talking, he reminded himself. He must continue to be strong for the safety of his small squad and those under his protection.
“What does it feel like?” Eder whispered, and for a moment Kane doubted his ears.
“It feels like standing on the Citadel walls and looking down, when you can see all the way to the river and it makes you a bit dizzy and light-headed,” he said, after a moment’s thought. “But it’s going away gradually.”
“You sound sad about that.”
“It’s quite a nice feeling, in its way,” Kane said. “Not that it’s worth putting myself in danger for, of course.”
“Of course,” Eder repeated, solemnly. “I was just curious, it’s not something I would ever consider doing myself so it’s likely I’ll never experience it.”
“You could,” Kane shrugged, and the answering look of horror on Eder’s face made him want to shovel the words back into his mouth. “I didn’t mean now or anything, and it’s not like you have to, just if you were ever curious again or-“
“The very idea! I couldn’t possibly,” Eder said, although he seemed to be talking more to himself than to Kane. “I don’t intend to dabble in sacrilege any more than I already have, I’ve learned my lesson.”
“Forget I said it,” Kane said, shaking his head.
Eder turned to him, probably to give Kane a lecture on temptation and sin and blasphemy, but whatever he would have said would have to wait. His eyes widened, and before Kane knew what was happening Eder had an arrow nocked.
“Kane! Bandits!” he hissed, rising and shooting in one smooth movement. There was a scream from the direction he had shot, and Kane whipped around to see a thin, wild-looking young man with an arrow buried deep in his shoulder, along with maybe half a dozen others, all similarly scruffy, thin and visibly dirty, even in the last light of the day. Kane let out a yell, and charged the gaggle.
A couple of them scattered, caught off guard by the shout and the arrow and the fact there was a young boy running at them with a sword. The others were made of sterner stuff, but Kane had been training for this for years.
He neatly dodged the first swing of what looked like a butcher’s cleaver, and struck the man hard across the back, turning to the flat of his sword at the last instant. The man fell forward with a groan, and didn’t get up. Everything was simple now, as worries about Elixir and side effects and what it all had to do with Eder melted away. Kane moved precisely, tidily, as he always had in practices, the motions slotting into place without engaging his brain.
He took down two more men in quick succession, parrying a clumsy first swipe and slicing across the back of the legs of one, and knocking the knife from the hands of another before kicking his legs out from under him. An arrow zipped past into the arm of Kane’s uninjured foe, pinning him to the ground with a yell. The last of his remaining opponents was disarmed as an arrow entered his hand and emerged halfway up his forearm. The man retreated into the woods from where he had come, cursing loudly.
Kane scanned the scene, checking for any more surprise guests. There was a bandit peering into one of the tents, but suddenly he stiffened, and fell backwards, the handle of a knife protruding from his right eye.
Eder let out a squeak and an arrow hit the ground alarmingly close to Kane’s feet.
“I think that’s all of them,” Kane said. “Is everyone else all right?”
Terrell crawled out of his tent, a look of shock on his face, and retrieved his knife, wiping it on the grass in a daze. Kane couldn’t help but stare at him. It didn’t take Terrell long to notice, and as he looked at Kane the shock disappeared from his expression and the corner of his mouth quirked up slightly, although his eyes still bore an unsettled light.
Davena emerged from her tent, bleary-eyed and frightened, but trying to speak calmly to Cahaya and reassure her the situation was under control. Sampson also came out, stepping over the dead bandit with an expression of disgust. He surveyed the three injured bandits with a critical eye.
“I thought there would be fewer survivors,” he said.
“They are disarmed and disabled,” Kane replied. “The camp is safe from harm, judging by the way their compatriots ran I’d guess they’ve had their fill of fighting for the night.”
“They are bandits, Brother-Corporal,” Sampson fixed him with a withering look. “If you suffer them to live they will only attack more travellers, some less prepared and alert than ourselves.”
Kane was beginning to sympathise with Eder’s earlier doubt. While Sidhe would be a different matter entirely, he was sure, he had seen the leanness of the young men who had tried to rob them, and the desperate looks on their faces. He realised he did not want to bear the responsibility of taking the lives they clung so fervently to.
“They are young, poor and starving, and in honesty I’d hardly even call them bandits, thieves at worst. It would be dishonourable to kill them in cold blood. Besides, isn’t mercy what the gods would want?”
“I should be delighted to argue theology with you at a later date, Brother-Corporal,” Sampson said acidly. “But if you have no stomach to do your duty I am sure someone else will.”
He turned to Terrell. “These men cannot be allowed to prey on the innocent any longer. In the name of the Brother, do what must be done.”
In what had to be a first for the books, Terrell saluted Sampson smartly, drew his knife and set about methodically dispatching the bandits with a single, swift cut to the throat. They had heard the orders relayed from Sampson, and Kane heard two of them begging Terrell for mercy, to spare their lives. For all his talk of duty, Sampson still turned his back on the sight.
“In the name of the Sister, judge these men fairly for their actions…” Eder muttered a prayer, his voice shaky.
Kane couldn’t take his eyes off Terrell.
“Surely this isn’t necessary,” he said to Sampson.
“Every death is regrettable,” Sampson said. “But think of the murders these men would have committed in future. Think of the children they would have orphaned, the women they would have widowed.”
“Might have.”
Sampson sighed.
“You will learn in time, Brother-Corporal Kane, that we are the instruments of the gods and we do as we are bidden, no matter what it is we are bidden to do nor our personal feelings on the matter. Do you understand me?”
The last young man did not beg for his life. He simply closed his eyes as Terrell approached him. Kane tore his eyes away from Terrell’s blade and met Sampson’s steely gaze.
“I-“ he began, but was interrupted by Davena stumbling towards him, a wild look of panic on her face.
“Sophia is missing!” She darted past Kane, heading to check the western forests for the professor.
“She can’t just have gone,” he said, lunging to catch Davena’s arm as she flitted about. “What did you find in her tent?”
“The side of her tent has been cut open, her belongings are halfway across the Borderlands and she isn’t there!” Davena wailed.
“Surely these men wouldn’t have-“
“I told you, Brother-Corporal,” Sampson said, and a wave of anger rose hot and ready in Kane at his smug tone. “Not everyone is as innocent as they may appear to your tender heart.”
Kane stormed across to Sophia’s tent, to see for himself her absence. It was exactly as Davena had described, the tent torn open, the blankets in disarray, several papers blowing merrily about outside, but thankfully no blood. He rummaged about, as though he might find Sophia hiding, flattening her
self against the floor, for a jape.
He turned up only a length of silken cloth, which Davena looked down at and gasped.
“That’s her veil,” she said, with a sob. “She wouldn’t have gone anywhere without it.”
Kane found nothing else in Sophia’s abandoned tent, save a small sliver of sharp flint which looked as though it didn’t quite belong on the loamy earth of the borderlands. He crawled out of the tent, and threw it viciously across the barren gap towards the Sidhe forest with a curse. Two people assigned to his protection, just two, and one of them had gone and gotten herself kidnapped by bandits.
“If we’d kept them alive a mite longer, we might have been able to rescue Sophia,” he said bitterly to Sampson as he returned to the campfire.
“We must continue,” Sampson said levelly. “Professor Sophia was only acting as a chaperone for the lady Cahaya, it is she who must reach Auris, that is our mission. We cannot have any delays on such foolish errands as rescue missions or search parties. Particularly if there is a Sidhe hunting party in the vicinity.”
Kane had to accede to the eminently sensible point, but Sampson’s demeanour was troubling.
“You seem remarkably calm, Immaculatus, might I ask how that is?”
Sampson turned to him, a serene expression on his face.
“I have faith, Brother-Corporal,” he said. “I trust in the gods and I follow their will. I highly recommend you do the same.”
With that, he swept off to comfort Davena, who seemed to be having difficulty keeping her own cool in the face of Sophia’s disappearance.
“I’m sorry, Kane,” he heard a small voice from behind him, and turned to see Eder awkwardly twiddling with the feathers on an arrow.
“You did well, Eder,” Kane said. “It’s hard to hit anything in this light.”
“I hit every single thing I was aiming for,” Eder said, but there was misery rather than pride in his voice. “I just couldn’t shoot to kill like I’m supposed to.”
“If you hit everything you were aiming for then you did an excellent job as far as I’m concerned,” Kane said, in a tone of voice which brooked no argument.
Eder nodded, but his expression was still dismayed. Kane left him to it and approached Terrell, who was stood at the edge of the camp, facing out towards the distant Sidhe forest. Terrell’s face was wet, shining in the starlight. The knife was still clenched in Terrell’s fist, and it seemed to gleam with red. Kane saw a couple of drops of blood fall from the tip of the blade as Terrell’s hand shook slightly.
“It isn’t as hard as I thought it would be,” Terrell said, and his voice was far away. “I don’t know whether that makes it worse or better. The first one was the hardest and that wasn’t even very hard at all really.”
“You didn’t need to do it, Terrell.”
“You heard what Sampson said. It needed to be done. And I did it.” Terrell turned to Kane, and smiled as though everything was fine, as though the tears weren’t still drying on his face and the blood of the men he had killed wasn’t soaking into the earth behind him. “I told you I could still be useful to the gods, Elixir or no.”
“Someone will need to bury the bodies,” Kane said. “I’m sure Sampson is eager to conduct the rites and send them off to their proper judgement, but he’s not got the muscle to shift the earth.”
“I’ll do it,” Terrell volunteered. “It’s only right. Besides, I couldn’t sleep right now if I wanted to, I feel like my blood is fizzing.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Absolutely. You can count on me.”
Kane shrugged and left him to work on the soft earth. Eder was still standing around in the darkness, unsure what to do with himself, and it was only when Kane gently took him by the arm and escorted him to the tent that the spell of motionlessness was broken. Davena and Cahaya had retired, both in considerable distress, and after issuing a few terse instructions to Sampson, Kane turned in for the night as well.
His dreams were filled with Sidhe song, starving outlaws, and Terrell advancing on him with a hunting knife that dripped with blood. He awoke several times, and on the final time he saw pale light through the tent flap, and with a weary sigh arose to face the day.
11. Mysteries upon Mysteries
“As Sorley slept, the Sister did come to him in a vision all in white, and laid in his outstretch’d hand a delicate flower. She whispered into his ear that this was to be the salvation of humanity, the defense against the guile and cunning of the dark creatures that plague the land. And Sorley heard, and he obeyed.”
The Song of ST Sorley the Exalted
True to his word, Terrell had buried the four dead men in untidy and probably rather shallow graves. He was awake when Kane arose, making polite conversation with Davena, who had at some point in the night taken over from Sampson as Terrell’s watch-partner. Kane approached them, stretching the kinks out of his tense muscles as he walked.
“Good morning, Brother-Corporal,” Davena said politely as he neared them. “You’re up early, we were going to give it another hour before rousing you.”
Kane shrugged ruefully. “Trouble sleeping.”
“Understandable, given the circumstances,” the Healer nodded. “There has been no further sign of anyone; even the Sidhe song stopped a little while ago, which at least gave us a welcome respite. But of course, there has been no sign of Professor Sophia either.”
“Perhaps at sunrise we’ll see some tracks or other sort of evidence as to where she’s gone. I know Sampson said no rescue missions but if the trail is obvious I can’t just ignore it.”
Davena smiled weakly. “I’ll deal with Sampson if it comes to it. I’ve been doing so for many years now, I’m very much in practice.”
“Terrell, do you want to get your head down for an hour before we strike camp? You’ve worked hard last night and you’ll need the rest.”
“I’m all right,” Terrell shook his head. “A nap this morning isn’t going to make much difference now, I can make it through to the night. You’re definitely taking first watch, though.”
“I can sort that,” Kane said, with a smile. Terrell seemed to be back to normal, and with the bodies out of sight the whole night seemed to have been a particularly vivid nightmare, to be banished by the dawn light. Unfortunately, the dawn light also illuminated the dried blood on the ground, which turned Kane’s stomach as he saw the size of the pools. He went to see if Sophia’s kidnappers had left any indication as to where they had taken her. What he found did not please him.
“There’s absolutely nothing,” he told Davena, when he returned. “Not a footprint, not a scuff, nothing. I don’t know whether they carried her or dragged her but either way there’s no sign. I’m beginning to think they floated her along, like a cloud.”
“Perhaps they are skilled at covering their tracks,” Davena sighed heavily. “I suppose that would fit, being kidnappers and all.”
“That’s the thing,” Kane continued. “There are tracks everywhere else in the camp. I can see exactly where the bandits snuck up on us and exactly where each of them… fell. I can even see where the ones who fled went, just nothing from the other side. I can’t follow a trail that isn’t there.”
“We shall pray for her,” Davena said. “That is all we can do now. If the gods will it she will escape her captors and reach safety.”
Kane refrained from reminding Davena of all the other things that could happen to Sophia if the gods did not will her freedom.
“As Sampson says, we must have faith,” he said, feeling like a fraud.
“Brother-Corporal Kane!” the aforementioned Immaculatus called from across the camp, his voice shrill and tremulous. “I must speak with you immediately!”
Davena gave Kane a sympathetic look as he turned to face Sampson, who was rushing towards him with a terrified expression.
“We have a crisis on our hands, Brother-Corporal, and I fear it may place our whole mission in jeopardy!”
“I tho
ught you said the Professor was non-essential, Immaculatus, and that we should carry on without her?”
“This crisis is far more important than the Professor,” Sampson said, his face darkening. “I am referring to the loss of-“ he looked around, and lowered his voice, “the sacred Elixir.”
“What?” Kane went cold all over. First bandits, then a kidnap, and now the Elixir being taken; he had been worried about jinxes but this was worse than he could have imagined.
“It is missing, Brother-Corporal, and I fear it has been stolen by the same people who took such liberties with our camp last night, perhaps even the same people who took Professor Sophia from us. You must track them, and retrieve it. And her, of course.”
“I would if I could, Sampson, but they have left no tracks. See for yourself, there isn’t a footprint outside of her tent. It’s like she was taken away by magic.”
He had meant it to sound flippant, but regretted his choice of words as Sampson went pale, and made a gesture to ward off evil.
“Sidhe sorcery!” the boy gasped, swooning slightly. “Their accursed hunt-song should have warned us, but why would they take the Professor?”
“More importantly, why would they take the Elixir?” Kane asked. “I thought it was supposed to ward them off.”
“Foolish boy,” Sampson spat. “The Elixir, when properly blessed, protects one from the magics of the Sidhe, it does not repel them like oil and water.”
“Then why do they want it?”
“It is likely for their changelings,” Sampson said, with authority. “When the Sidhe take children from the humans they slaughter, they are turned into monsters like their abductors – eating their enchanted food, drinking their unholy concoctions. The Sidhe desire the Elixir to keep these corrupted youths at their prime for longer, for old slaves are of no use to them. It is a dreadful perversion of its true purpose.”
“That’s monstrous!”
Sampson cleared his throat. “Brother-Corporal, I fear we must turn back. This mission does not have the favour of the gods.”
The Child Guard Page 12