Pentigrast (6 page)

As the sun came up in the East over Strongshire the first rays of light crept into the cave licking at Talen’s boots. As the morning moved on the sun filled the mouth of the cave warming his body and bringing him back to consciousness. As he opened his eyes and sat up with great pain he heard a rustle outside the caves entrance and quickly pulled his dagger to arm himself. As he struggled to gain his feet he heard a loud snort as his horse wandered into the mouth of the cave. Sheathing his dagger Talen moved as quickly as he could towards the horse grabbing it by the bridle and laying his head upon its snout. Seeing that its eyes were still wide with fear he whispered softly to the beast while stroking him lightly. As he moved around the horse he inspected it for any injuries but found none, it would seem he just ran off in the excitement of the fight. Whether he followed Talen’s trail or just returned to a known place was unknown to Talen but he was glad to see his trusty friend along with the rest of his supplies.

Talen had guessed the time to be nearing noon and he had some hard decisions to make. Should he mount up and head for the borderlands or spend another night in the cave? After much contemplation Talen decided that the best course of action would be to spend another night in the cave. He could build a fire, eat and get a good night’s rest before setting out early the next morning, and with any luck he would be able to reach the borderlands by nightfall the next night.

Talen removed the horse’s saddle and bridle and pulled a heavy wool blanket from the horses pack to cover him. After setting the horse with a feed bag he found his way out into the day and grabbed as much dead wood as he could find. Starting a small fire he then wandered down the hill to a small stream and gathered water in a pot to clean his wounds again before brewing some strong red tea and preparing an afternoon meal. The rest of the afternoon and evening passed without incident. Talen cleaned and dressed his wound and ate a light meal and as the day turned to night he decided a fire would only bring unwanted attention. He doused the flames with snow and settled in under a heavy wool blanket for some much needed sleep.

In the middle of the night Talen awoke to faint voices, thinking it a dream he closed his eyes and tried to regain sleep only to hear the voices again and they seemed to be coming from the back of the cave where the dead women still sat in their circle. Talen sat up and reached for the pack beside him that held his lantern. Finding the lantern he pulled the last of his matches from his cloak and struck it against the floor. As he lit the oil soaked wick of the lantern and the flame began to rise so too did the voices from the rear of the cave. Quickly Talen got to his feet and buckled his sword around his waist before walking the length of the cave and stopping just short of the entrance to the room that held the dead women. The voices were growing louder now and a deep blue glow was emanating from the room.

As he entered the room he noticed that the pentagram on the ground was ringed by a strange blue flame, looking up he saw the twisted mouths of the dead women were moving together in unison like some morbid puppet theatre as they repeated the same three words “Doth Amini Pentigrast” over and over again. Their eyes, as black as coal, were wide with excitement and their chants grew ever stronger. The flame of the pentacle rose higher until almost touching the low hung ceiling of the cave…and then the chanting ceased. The twisted mouths of the corpses became slack once again and the wide black eyes returned to milky dull disks. The flame diminished to that of a match before sputtering out but the pentagram continued to glow a faint blue light. Talen remembered the old man’s tale of how these four would give power to the fifth women who would then steal life and wondered if indeed some poor soul only seeking the companionship of a beautiful lover had lost his life that night.

Talen then remembered another part of the tale told by the old woman to Riven “The women must be sacrificed in a way that spills no blood or marks there body with scar”. Talen focused on these words and wondered what would become of the ritual if the women were scarred after death or the morbid scene destroyed. Talen drew his sword and leveled it at the closest figure before him and as he pulled back to strike the head from its shoulders the eyes once again came to life and the once slackened jaw twisted in a mocking grin. “Fool!” The corpse spat in a mocking tone. “Do you believe that your steel can end our torment? Strike me if you dare and watch your sword shatter as if glass and the shards dance upon the ground. She awaits you Talen Morgan, and the time draws near, go to her in Quinth and leave the dead be. She has the answers you are looking for; only there can you end our torment.” The figure fell silent and the flicker of the lanterns flame was the only light left to the room. As Talen turned to leave he was met by the flashing glint of steel as Riven Lannisters raised blade came crashing down on him.

To be continued… May 14, 2013