Brenyn rapidly killed two, and Glora slew another pair.
But the enemy was now alerted.
Men appeared in the doorway, swords in hand.
When Brenyn and Glora slew another man each while they hesitated, uncertain, in the doorway, the invaders abandoned the lighted building for the shadows, pouring forth in a rush, and began to engage with Murlet’s men.
The fighting began in earnest.
Because they were better organized, Murlet’s band had the better of it at the first, but the enemy were hardened, callous men, and gradually the fight became a more equal struggle. Brenyn and Glora, however, when any separation occurred between the enemy and their own men, reduced the enemy’s numbers, one or two at a time. Then, as their numbers dwindled, the enemy began to break and to try to escape to the rear of the central building. Murlet’s men gave chase. Brenyn, finding the enemy moving out of his sight line, leapt off the roof and raced toward the town center, where he found another building to the right that afforded a better view of the ongoing struggle.
It was then that a figure appeared out of the shadows at the far end of the town. Dressed in robes of black and bearing a staff, this figure began launching bolts of what appeared to be balls of fire at Murlet’s men. Two or three went down, crying out in pain.
Brenyn scrambled across the roof to get a better shot at this newcomer – undoubtedly the “sorcerer” of whom they had been warned. While he was changing his position, Glora, somewhere off to the left, sent an arrow speeding toward him but the robed man quickly raised his glowing staff and reduced the missile to dust.
Brenyn gaped in astonishment at this shocking exhibition of power. When he had first heard of the “sorcerer”, he had thought that they would be facing some sort of magician, a fakir, a conjurer of cheap deceptions, but this creature – man or whatever he was – possessed real power, and had already wounded or slain two or three men.
The sorcerer then looked in the direction that the arrow had come and raised his staff yet again, aiming the glowing tip. Brenyn understood at once that he meant to wound or even slay Glora with his strange fire and would likely succeed.
A chill of warning shot through him.
That chill was followed by an odd sort of heat that seemed to quicken his heartbeat and sharpen his eyes and his mind.
Time slowed even as his heart abruptly raced.
Below him, in the streets and all around the town’s square, the sounds of the battle faded. In the night sky overhead, the stars seemed to abruptly brighten, clearly delineating everything upon which they shone.
The sorcerer, standing in open area just beyond the building at the center of town, assumed the immobility of a statue, frozen in the act of raising his staff.
Brenyn nocked an arrow and as he did so the bow that his mother had made for his father grew strangely warm in his hands. Surprised, he looked down. The runes carved into its length shone bright, clear, and vivid, as if imbued with light from the suddenly bright stars above him.
He lifted the bow and took aim.
He released.
The arrow, gleaming like a bolt of lightning, sped through the night.
It struck the sorcerer.
At the moment of impact, Brenyn’s arrow flared bright for an instant and then burst into flame, the glimmering sparks flaring out and disappearing into the night.
In that instant, time lurched forward and started again.
The sorcerer’s staff shattered and dropped from his hands.
His arms shot out to the sides and his head tilted back. A piercing scream reverberated through the night and faded away among the dark streets of the town.
The sorcerer crumpled and fell and moved no more.
Around Brenyn, the sounds of the battle erupted once again. The strange heat in his bones subsided and the runes upon his bow went dark as the wood cooled in his hands.
There was no time to ponder the meaning of the last few moments. He drew more arrows from his quiver and returned to the task of killing the enemy.
A short while after the death of the sorcerer, the fight turned decisively in favor of Captain Murlet and his band. The squatters broke and fled. Murlet’s men ran them down, killing them in the darkness beyond the limits of the town. Some few escaped into the darkness and thence into the hills, but nearly all were slain. Murlet then gave orders for every building to be searched.
Finding all enemies beyond his sight, Brenyn slid off the roof and dropped to the ground, retrieving his shield, and then made his way toward the town center. There, he found Murlet, Kristo, and Riana attending to their dead and wounded in the light that spilled out of the large central building. Three of the band had been slain and four wounded. None were well-known to Brenyn.
Glora was already there, talking quietly with Murlet when Brenyn came up. She glanced over, saw Brenyn, and went silent.
He looked around for Jed, but his friend was not in view.
Just then Captain Murlet, who had been kneeling by one of the wounded, looked up, saw him, and stood, beckoning with his finger.
“Come, Brenyn,” he said. “Let us go and see that sorcerer that you slew.”
Brenyn, accompanied by Glora, followed him around to the other side of the building where the sorcerer’s body lay sprawled upon the earth. The sorcerer lay upon his back with his mouth and eyes wide open, a gaping hole in his chest. All around the edges of that hole, his robes were singed as if from fire.
Murlet leaned down and looked into the glazed eyes of the dead sorcerer and then straightened up and shrugged.
“He looks mostly human to me,” he observed.
“But he employed real power,” Brenyn pointed out.
Glora looked over. “As did you, Brenyn,” she stated.
Murlet nodded at this and frowned at Brenyn. “Whence does such power arise?” He wondered.
Brenyn shook his head. “I told you – I know not.”
Murlet studied him for a moment with narrowed gaze. “You should, perhaps, strive to discover the answer,” he suggested.
Brenyn thought about the way the bow had warmed in his hands and how the runes had gleamed in the night but decided not to speak of it. “If I knew where to seek the answer,” he told Murlet, “I would go and seek it, but I know not.”
Murlet smiled and glanced over at Glora. “Well, I am just grateful that you were here, else he would have slain my sister.”
Brenyn inclined his head, abashed, and then looked around. “What now, captain?”
Murlet indicated the scattered houses that stretched away into the gloom. “We need to search all these houses,” he replied. “Go and find a companion and then help the others make certain that we slew all the enemy – and see whether any townsfolk remain in any of these outlying buildings.”
Brenyn nodded and turned away.
When he came back to the south side of the central building, he found Sergeant Kristo dividing the men into pairs and sending them into the town to seek out any enemy that might have escaped or be in hiding. Jed was there, on the outskirts of the group.
“Are you alright?” Brenyn asked him.
Jed nodded. “Minor scratch or two, nothing serious.” Then he tendered a savage smile. “Slew one, though, wounded another.”
Turning and meeting Kristo’s gaze, Brenyn raised his hand and indicated the two of them. Kristo nodded and pointed behind him, beyond the building and toward the north end of the town.
“Take a torch and go,” the sergeant said.
Setting his bow and shield aside, Brenyn drew his sword. Jed found a lighted torch and together they went into the gloom of the northern reaches of the town. The first few buildings were already being searched by others, so they went on toward the outskirts. Here, the houses were situated further apart, and there were more dark shapes of buildings further on, next to the woods.
They searched through the first of the houses that was not being searched by other men, finding no enemy or citizens, though there
was evidence of violence – stains upon the wooden floors that reeked of death.
Cautiously, weapons at the ready, Brenyn and Jed searched two more houses with the same result and then found themselves at the edge of the town. Brenyn peered into the darkness, noting that there were at least two more buildings that lay beyond the confines of the small town, one upon the dark slope to their right and the other situated next to a stretch of forest that wound up the bottom of the vale.
Brenyn glanced up at the farmhouse on the slope and then turned to direct his gaze toward the dark shape of the building that stood next to the woods. As he moved his eyes from the building up the hill, something caught the corner of his eye – a flash, a small flare of light that shone for just an instant and then went dark. He looked back up the slope, but the structure was dark now.
“Did you see it?” He asked Jed quietly.
“See what?”
“Up there, at that house upon the slope,” Brenyn answered without pointing. “A flash of light, just for a moment.”
“You think someone’s there?” Jed asked.
“I do,” Brenyn replied. “Put out your torch and let’s go.”
They eased along the dirt track that led out of the town until they came to where a path branched off and wound up toward the farmhouse on the hillside. The house was a small affair, with one outbuilding, just large enough for a horse or a single cow, standing a few yards further up the slope behind it.
There was no sound or suggestion of movement or light.
“You’re certain you saw a light?” Jed whispered.
“I did.” Brenyn motioned with his sword. “Go around to the back in case they try to run. I’ll go through the front door.”
“Be careful, Bren.”
“I always am.”
The door to the house, a narrow wooden slat affair, was shut but not locked. Brenyn eased it open, his sword at the ready. There was only darkness inside the tiny house. Wielding his sword at the level of his waist, he swung it leftward and then back to the right as he stepped in and left, next to the wall. The steel found nothing.
With his back against the wall, Brenyn waited for his eyes to adjust. With no source of illumination other than the starlight, the gloom inside the house remained thick and nearly impenetrable. The house was comprised of a single room. Over to the right there appeared to be the shapes of two beds, overturned upon the floor. Nearer at hand there was a small table and three chairs. Along the back wall were a few cupboards that had been ransacked.
There appeared to be no one in the room.
There was another door at the back, just to the right of the cupboards. This door was eased open and Jed slipped inside and moved to his left to stand against the wall.
There was silence for a long moment; then Jed whispered; “I see nothing.”
“No, nor do I,” Brenyn agreed. “Let’s check that little barn out back.”
There were no animals in the barn, only a single stall on the right with a bit of hay in the manger. Jed turned in a slow circle and then sheathed his sword. “I don’t know what you saw, Brenyn,” he said. “There is no one here.”
But Brenyn was kneeling down, feeling of the floor. “Why is this bit of the floor clean of muck and made of wooden planks?” He wondered. “Put a light to your torch, Jed.”
Jed produced his flint and the torch flared. It was as Brenyn had said – a piece of the floor, perhaps three feet by four feet, was composed of wooden planks and was free of debris. There was a length of leather attached to one end of the rectangle, as if it was to be used as a handle of sorts to lift the planks up.
Brenyn pointed with his sword and stepped to one side, off the wooden planks, meeting Jed’s gaze as he did so.
“Who do you think is down there?” Jed whispered. “Do you think some of the mercenaries are hiding there?”
Brenyn shook his head. “Not likely,” he answered quietly. “Most likely – if anyone is down there – it is a citizen, but we cannot be certain, of course. Hold the torch high and pull up on the latch. I’ll face whoever it is, should there be someone.”
Jed nodded, knelt down and grasped the length of leather. Holding the torch up, he lifted the rectangular section of wooden slats and stepped back, exposing a dark hole in the floor of the barn. While Brenyn held his sword at the ready, Jed lowered the torch.
A rough ladder led down into the hole.
Next to this ladder, two pairs of wide and frightened eyes gazed up at them.
Brenyn knelt and looked at them, keeping his sword trained down upon them. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that they were an older man and a young woman, who was barely more than a girl. Beside them, there was a bucket of water, some blankets, and some parcels of what were probably foodstuffs, wrapped in cloth. After examining the rest of the pit and finding no one else in the hole, Brenyn looked at the man and the girl.
“Is this your farm?” He asked.
The older man swallowed and nodded.
“And you have been hiding from the intruders all this time in this pit?”
Once more, the man nodded.
Brenyn sheathed his sword. “We are not them,” he told the man and woman. “And we will not harm you. We have been sent by the prince to remove the invaders – which we have done.” He went silent for a moment and then extended his hand. “You can come out now. You will not be harmed.”
Neither of them moved.
After a moment, the old man swallowed again and spoke. “You look like mercenaries,” he said.
Brenyn nodded. “We are mercenaries, but we are not like the others. We will not harm you – and we have slain nearly all of those that have ravaged your town.”
The man’s eyes glistened. “They slew most of the men,” he said then, “even the children – and the women, they…” He could not finish.
Brenyn nodded with sympathy. “I know,” he answered. He watched them for another moment and then he withdrew his hand and stood. “If you wish to remain hidden, we will understand, and we will go away and leave you be. But know this – we will leave when the sun rises tomorrow and will go back whence we came. If there are mercenaries that remain in this region, they will not be kind, should they return and discover you. You have until morning to decide what you will do.”
He looked at Jed. “Drop the door.”
“Wait.”
This came from the young woman.
Brenyn held up his hand to stop Jed and looked down again.
“You are not with the bad men?” She asked.
Brenyn shook his head. “We are not. We were sent by your Prince Pelterez to rescue you.”
She glanced at the older man seated beside her. “My father is very ill,” she said, “and cannot long endure such discomfort.”
She studied her father for one long moment and then stood and reached down to help the old man to his feet. Then she looked up at Brenyn. “You will not harm him?”
“We will not harm either of you,” Brenyn replied. “My name is Brenyn and that is Jed holding the light.” He knelt once more and held down his hand. “Give him to me,” he said.
The young woman maneuvered the older man next to the ladder and after a quiet word from her, he held up his hand. Brenyn grasped the hand and pulled him carefully up and out and into the barn. The young woman came climbing up after him.
As he helped the older man over to the railing of the stall, Brenyn could feel him tremble, though whether this was from fear or from some sort of malady, he could not be sure. He looked at the girl. She was slender and taller than she had appeared while in the pit, and, though young, she was more woman than girl.
Brenyn inclined his head to her. “You may do as you like,” he told her. “You may remain in your own home or come down to the town where our band awaits.” He glanced at the old man. “We have no surgeon,” he told her, “but our captain is skilled in the arts of medicine. He may be able to lend aid to your father.”
She met Brenyn’s gaze and the
n turned to look at Jed where her gaze rested for a long moment. Jed nodded his head to her but seemed unable to speak. She hesitated for only another moment and then seemed to come to a decision.
“My name is Evonne, and this is my father, Seygord. We will come with you to the town.”
“Then let us go,” Brenyn answered, but as they stepped out into the night, he hesitated and looked north. “Are there any other farms to the north?” He asked.
It was Seygord that replied, in faltering tones. “No,” he said, “there are only the mines that way.”
Brenyn kept looking northward. “Mines?”
“The prince’s gold mines are up there, next to the base of the hills,” Evonne stated.
Brenyn glanced over at Jed, who was looking at the girl. “We will need to search those mines tomorrow,” he said. “We must tell Captain Murlet.”
Jed nodded and held out the torch. “Here; take this,” he said to Brenyn. “I will help Evonne to get her father to town.”
With the old man walking carefully between his daughter and Jed, they made their way back into the town and around to the front of the central building. Captain Murlet, still attending to his injured, looked up as they came into view. “Who’s this, then?”
“They dwell up the vale some way,” Brenyn told him. “They have hidden from the invaders all this time.”
Murlet nodded somberly. “Well, they are the lucky ones,” he said.
“This man states that there are mines up at the head of the valley,” Brenyn told him.
Murlet considered and then nodded again. “We will search the mines after sunup.” He indicated the interior of the building. “Take them inside where it’s warm,” he said, “but don’t let them go upstairs.” His brow darkened and he glanced at Evonne before he continued. “There’s a bit of horror that they should not see.”
Brenyn looked at Jed, who was still gazing surreptitiously at the girl. “Take them inside,” he told him. “I will go and search that other house next to the woods.”
At this, Jed looked away from her and frowned at Brenyn. “By yourself?”
A Plague of Ruin: Book One: Son of Two Bloods Page 21