Take the Darkness...: Epic Fantasy Series (8 page)

Chapter 14

Seraphina had never been much of a fighter. Sure she’d trained with her uncle Stephan a lot, and through him she had taken down her fair share of people who were great with swords, the rapier, and the thin ‘Lady’s blade’ which she still carried, but she preferred to plan and plot rather than just face someone with one sword against another sword. That’s what she’d had Dirst for.

‘What’s to stop her just commanding me to kill myself?’ She asked.

‘
I don’t think her power will work on you; you’re much too strong with your own lies, so you will see through hers.’
The Wolvern had always referred to her powers of creating illusions as lies, and the power of making people see her lies. She’d always thought of it as the power of creating beauty from nothing. Especially now, in this wretched place it was the only thing that had kept her sane.

‘So what? We go and find her and you help me kill her?’ She asked.

‘
I’ll journey with you, but you must do it alone, as she can still command me and I don’t want to be forced to hurt you.’

Seraphina thought about the creature’s request. On one hand, she wanted to kill Seth more than anything, and gain her revenge, but if anyone was going to blunder their way out of this hell it was him. He was like a windstorm in the desert that just flew along ripping apart everything that got in its way. Even now, he’d stumbled upon this Silver woman, and while she might be controlling him, she was also a strong protector in this world of hungry killers.

‘If I do manage to save him, then what? We’ll still be stuck here, and with him as company? You think I ever want to see his face again? I hate him, so why would I help him?’

It just laughed a dark laugh. ‘
You don’t hate him, I can see though your lies, you’re confused about him... but your little heart beat faster when you heard he was here.’

‘Because I want revenge,’ she yelled.

It laughed again. ‘
You don’t know what you want, so you’ll do what I ask.’

She just shook her head and stood up from her fire. Letting her features slowly change, she slipped into the illusion of the dead. Dark black eyes, pale skin, long feral teeth. It was always the way with this one: he was her friend but they were not equals. It thought of itself as a god and probably was, where as she was just a lost girl alone in a freezing land.

‘Let's stop talking and start walking then. But you have to tell me about this woman. I know you hate talking about her because she bested you, but you have to now,’ she said, teasing him. It was like poking a bear, but she enjoyed it. She could feel its anger in her mind, and she knew at least part of it wanting to save Seth was the chance to finally kill the silver tongue.

Chapter 15

Once she knew he’d recognised her, Josette left as quickly and quietly as she could. She’d waited until someone else walked in, and simply slipped past them into the street. She’d heard enough from Goldie to know that he was going to betray Elizebetha, and if that Bastard asked for her as part of the price, she was sure Goldie would agree to that as well.

While she thought Flint and Stone were solid enough, they were stupid and would believe anything Goldie told them. She’d have to do this herself and hope the King was able to be contacted, and soon enough. She drew her leather hood over her red hair and paced towards the front gate of the city on her long legs. She loped along looking as much like an archer, and a male one at that, as she could. The city was very dark now, and she knew it was a few good hours past midnight. The city vendors had packed up their stalls and the only people walking on the streets were the occasional drunken men and groups of people walking together to their houses. She drew her dagger out and held it in her hand beneath her thin black cloak. She looked like a shadow as she moved quickly though the city, and luckily no one was in the mood to try and rob her. The bow across her back did much to dissuade, especially given that the city was now filled with talk of mercenaries and war. She’d known it had been a complete mistake to engage the Red Bastards, and now that she had seen their current leader, she knew it was even more.

She’d first seen him three years ago. He was just a regular in their force then, and he’d clearly come up in the world. It had been the best and worst day of her life, that day.

She’d stood in the blazing sun of the Pellota slave markets. Feet resting on a small wooden stool and a thick rope tied around her neck. The Pellosi had a tradition of combining slave auctions and executions into one horrible event. It saved time. She’d looked out to the small collection of people who had come to watch her swing; there was at least twenty score, and more than a few city guards as well.

She’d looked even more like a child then. She’d been only twenty one, and was to be hung for murder and for being a runaway slave. The sun shone off her bright red hair and they had her dressed in a thin white shift to show off her lithe body. Even though they would plan to hang her, they would still try to sell her first. It was the cheapest and nastiest way to buy slaves, and it attracted the worst kind of people. That’s where she’d seen him.

He’d stood in a small group of men laughing and drinking in the daytime from rough clay jugs of cheap wine. They’d worn the red sashes around their arms and had swords clearly on display; even though it was technically not allowed, the city guard left them alone. She’d thought he was one of the most beautiful men she’d even seen, and that made her hate him on sight. Her whole life, it had been men like this who thought they were doing her a favour when they raped her. As if she should be happy because they were pretty like girls when they forced her. Her master hadn’t been pretty, though. He’d been a fat disgusting trader, but at least he preferred to hit her instead of fuck her. She’d prefer the taste of his hand more than anything else he’d had to offer.

She smiled a big fake smile at the crowd as the slave master introduced her to the audience: they wanted a show, she’d give them one, and she was going to die anyway so at least she’d go out with some fire about her. She was so filled with rage; it was a palpable force that came from her. Most of the people in the crowd wouldn’t meet her strong green eyes.

The hangman wasn’t in a hood, and was just like most other slave traders she’d met. Respectable clothing and well spoken, they thought they were just regular business people, not merchants of pain.

‘A young girl we have here, attractive in face and body, trained in the pleasure houses from age eight, then sold to a private patron at eighteen. Sadly, she has a violent nature and killed the poor man who owned her in a gruesome fashion. She is guilty of murder of her patron, an elderly man, attempting escape, and the serious injury of three city guards who tried to apprehend her. So, a mixed bag, I’d say, buyers, this lovely girl with a violent history, and we make no guarantees on her behaviour...’

She’d spoken up loudly. ‘Any of you fucking bastards buy me, I’ll kill you or myself, so either way it’s wasted coin.’ The audience of people laughed at that, but the Red Bastards looked up at her for the first time.

‘Yes, yes, very dramatic, we’ll start bidding at the low price of five silvers, and please remember this noose is not for show; if we don’t meet the reserve price, she will swing today.’ Some of the man’s family clapped at that. She knew they’d be bidding to get her back and kill her slowly; the only reason they hadn’t already was because she’d run straight to the city guard and handed herself in. They had needed some convincing she was really a killer so she’d stuck her dagger in one’s shoulder to prove herself.

‘Seven silvers,’ called out a man who looked like a poor farmer of some kind, probably wanting cheap labour and would even take a skinny thing like her. Seven silvers was much cheaper than buying a horse.

‘Ten silvers,’ cried the retainer of her patron’s family. If they got her, she’d just jump off the platform herself.

‘Fuck you,’ she yelled. ‘If you dogs buy me back I’ll do you like I did your father, the fat pig.’

Everyone except the family laughed at that, but they walked from the crowd along with jeers from the rest of the people. The crowd had quickly grown, coming to watch this young girl swearing and screaming, and they were enjoying the show.

‘Anyone else?’ Cried the slaver/hangman. ‘She’ll swing for seven silvers!’

‘Two golds,’ said a strong voice. Everyone looked at the bidder, and of course it was him. The King Bastard. She felt a flush of real fear go through her. She had no wish to go with him or his men.

‘Two golds was that, sir?’ Cried the man in an excited voice.

‘You heard right, we’ll get our money’s worth, won’t we men?’ He said, and the small group of rough men laughed.

‘Well, two golds it is. Have we a higher bid? Or is our redhead friend going with the fine men of the Red Bastards? A noble troop of fine young men.’ The crowd laughed at that: they knew what was waiting for her.

Then she heard that voice, the one that had saved her. It was soft but gruff, and filled with deep, deep anger

‘The Cold Death claims her,’ the voice said.

Everyone looked around, and then saw them. Dagosh, who she’d never seen before, stood in a group of soldiers. They had weapons openly displayed and she saw there was a tall woman next to him, with a stern face and a bow across her back. Dagosh was a tallish older man with a stern face and trimmed beard, he held a whip at his side and his dark eyes glowed with anger, and he was the only one not laughing, nor was his troop.

‘Ahh, Master Dagosh, that is not a bid, and I’ve told you before, you can’t come and disrupt like this.’

‘Oh I’m sorry, did I stutter?’ Dagosh yelled. ‘I said we claim her; she’s my little sister and has been wrongly imprisoned for years, and now you’re selling her. That’s illegal and you know it.’

‘Fucking hell, Dagosh,’ the man yelled. ‘How many little sisters have you got? It’s been eight so far this year!’

‘Okay Drake, I’ll be nice and bid three gold, but....’ Then he looked at the golden haired man and his men who were now looking very ready for a fight. ‘That will be the winning bid.’

‘Four gold,’ the Bastard said back in a relaxed tone.

The slaver, Drake, looked back and forth between Dagosh and the man. He’d never liked Dagosh because he was always coming and ruining his sales, but he knew not to cross him or his ex-slave mercenaries when it came to times like this.

Standing with that rope around her neck, she’d never wanted anything so much. This man who had been called Dagosh looked like a savior. He was an angry old fighter, and she’d heard of the Cold Death. They were mercenaries, but made up of bought slaves, and she’d heard no dark rumours about them except that Dagosh himself was teased for being a prude, which sounded good to her.

The slaver clapped his hands loudly and shook his head at Dagosh in defeat. ‘Winning bid, three golds from Master Dagosh.’ The men of the Red Bastards yelled and howled, but it was the seller’s choice. She had a new master now, and one she actually wanted.

She’d been so lost in her own world of remembering that day that she suddenly realised she’d reached the towering front gate and was being stared at by the two city guards who stood with large flat bladed pikes by its side. She pulled down her hood and saw them visibly relax; she had no idea how long she’d been standing there looking sinister.

One spoke in a young fresh voice, but he was still older than her. ‘Can we help you, ma’am? Lost, are you? Dangerous hour to be walking alone in this city.’

‘I need to speak to a King’s messenger about what’s happening right now in Black Rock,’ she said in reply.

They just nodded to each other. ‘There have been rumours flying fast tonight. If you don’t mind, we’ll show you to our Captain.’

She just nodded and let the young guard lead her into the small stone guardhouse next to the gate.

Chapter 16

It had been years and years since she’d done a summoning like this, and it had been so very long since she’d talked to her father. She had no desire to see him as a corpse, but she needed to speak with someone and he’d always guided her to the right path. While in life, he’d been the guiding light in her life. A strong believer in right and the leader of the Order of the Gatherers. He’d never been seduced by the power of the summoning, but had in his time fought against those others who had. He never spoke to her of this, but she could see it in his face sometimes when she’d seen him alone in his study, just staring into the crackling fire with a faraway look in his old eyes, and she’d always wondered what demons he was wrestling with. She’d ask, but he’d just smile his kind smile and ask her what she was reading or writing, and ease the conversation back to his daughter.

Even though Linda spoke of her father fighting against the Dark Guild, she had no memories of him fighting with a sword or engaged in battles. She had no idea what form his fighting took. She had the kitchen bring up a large bowl of blood from a slaughtered sheep, and stood in the room thinking as she placed her stones around in a circle. Grimm stood in the room with her, but he would leave once he’d helped her subdue her father, as she wanted to talk to him alone.

Grimm stood by silently as she began to sing her song. He listened to the words marking them. It was the second time he’d heard it, and he could remember it now. It took only moments before he saw that her longing to see her father had helped. The rift formed in the circle of her stones and a man walked through.  As he came though, Grimm was surprised because he had the look of a normal man. No teeth or black eyes, just a tired looking old man, who smiled at his daughter as he walked in.

Without a word, Grimm walked out of the room and left her to commune.

‘Hello daughter,’ he said in a quiet voice she remembered well.

He looked as he ever had. A slight man with an intelligent face and shrewd but kind eyes. He looked like a librarian or scholar, and had fingers stained with black ink drops from his constant scribing.

‘Hello, father,’ she said. It filled her with such relief and joy to see him as a man and not a monster. ‘How is it that you are a man and not a howler?’ She asked.

He laughed gently. ‘This is how we should all look and be, for I have passed beyond the land you call the land of the dead and have been judged.’

‘Do you know what’s happening here? What should I do?’ She asked.

‘You have to fight them, Elizebetha. You have to defeat the Dark Guild, and most of all you need to help your friend Seth if you can. He is now in a much bigger battle that will decide much.’

‘What do you mean?’ She asked.

‘The balance is wrong, the dead are not moving on, they are being held back, and we have to stop it. I could only pass because of the lore I knew. I held onto myself even in the cold, snow and death.’

‘What should I do? I don’t want to kill, but how can I stop them?’ She asked, crying.

‘Oh sweet daughter, you don’t need to kill them, but we can stop them. Let me show you the one place in this Keep that even you haven’t seen, and the reason we can’t let them take it.’

The man sitting across the small desk from Josette was not what she’d expected from the Captain of the city guard in a place like Pellota. She’d heard that these sorts of roles were given more as political favours and less on merit, but this man looked like any other hard-bitten soldier she’d seen in her life. He was older than she’d expected as well. The sides of his short clipped black hair were streaked with white and his short trimmed beard around a well tanned face which was also streaked with silver. He looked up at her from his scribing and smiled. It was a small but friendly smile that of someone used to talking with grandchildren rather than young girls. Yet, his face was scarred as if from more than one battle: he had a large cut through his left eyebrow.

He reached over his small desk and shook her hand. He had a lot of strength in the grip and his hand was the well calloused one of someone who’d held a sword his entire life.

‘Good evening, young lady. I’m Captain Morantin, and pleased to meet you,’ he said in a soft unhurried voice. ‘And who might you be?’

‘My name is Josette, and I’m a member of the Cold Death and here to ask aid for Black Rock,’ she said back. There was no way of knowing what kind of a man this was, or if he’d be able to help her.

‘Ahh the Cold Death, a frightful name for what I’m led to believe is one of the best mercenaries troops, if such a thing could be said of any of you. I can see by those cuts in your earlobe that you were once a slave as well.’

‘Not anymore,’ she said with pride.

‘Indeed, indeed, I’ve met your man Dagosh and have a lot of time for him, even though he’s a troublemaking bastard. So, before you continue, let me tell you what I know already to save you time,’he said.

‘Of course,’ She’d assumed they would know something, given the amount of noise Goldie was making tonight. It wasn’t against the law to recruit mercenaries, but it could be against the King’s interests, which was.

‘Well, your little troop led by four Northmen went to Black Rock. You killed the Lord Renton and placed his sister back on the seat. Then the Duke of Twin Plains, Luthor is his name, came along with a thousand or so men, and I’m guessing you’re all penned up like rats in a cage. So you decide, quite stupidly I might say, to engage even more mercenaries to help, and you come down here and cause all sorts of hell, scaring my city and then recruiting the Red Bastards of all bloody people. That about it?’

She was a little shocked at his level of knowledge of things that had unfolded in just a matter of days. Somewhere there were some very exhausted couriers and horses that had been racing back and forth from Black Rock. Who knew the city guard had such a good spy network?

‘Almost. The man recruiting the Red Bastards is a break-away and looks to be betraying us at the Keep, and the real leader of the Northmen, Seth. Duchess Elizebetha has asked me to try and gather the King’s aid.’

The older man looked at her as if weighing her words. It’s true she was little more than a girl, but she had a quiet fire in her eyes and actions that a fighter like this man could read. ‘And they chose you because you’re young, the break-away will underestimate you, and because you’re loyal to Dagosh and the Northman.’

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘Now tell me what I don’t know. Who is this break-away? Did he hire them, the Bastards, and if so, did you glean any plans?’

She had to judge this man. If he was crooked in any way, she’d be done for, and he wouldn’t be the first captain to be on the payroll of some of the shadier city dwellers. ‘But what choice do I have,’ was the question.

‘His name is Goldie and he’s a Northman as well, but gone rogue it seems. He’s hired 1200 men and intends to march them on the Duke and sell him the Keep. They plan to get him to retreat, enter the Keep as reinforcements, and take it.’

The man started laughing ‘til there were tears in his eyes. ‘The stupidity of some people still makes me laugh. Has this man actually met the Red Bastards? They are so deep in the pocket of that Duke they are like his personal troop!’

She was stunned, having had no idea. She knew they weren’t to be trusted, but not this. A terrible situation had just turned so much worse.

‘Oh,’ was all she could say.

‘So this idiot will lead them into his Keep, betray his friends, hoping for a nice reward, and just get himself put to the sword like the rest of you. The only thing I don’t understand is why the Duke wants the place; it’s near to worthless, no farming worth a damn and not strategic in any way. It’s a waste of man power to even try to take it.’

She was feeling so despondent and just let her mouth run. ‘It’s all some feud with the Dark Guild and Gatherers.’ She’d heard this from the Northman Grimm when he’d told her Seth had vanished, and she was the only one he’d told the truth to. She didn’t know how real it was, but wanted to believe he’d left only to save them.

The man grew quiet. ‘Did you say the Dark Guild? What do you know of it?’

Now she was worried she’d said too much, but there could be no backing down now. ‘I did, the Duke’s the big boss of it, and it’s like a brotherhood of some kind.’

The Captain literally put his hands together with excitement, and then reaching into his desk, he passed her a note that had the broken seal of the new King. It was at least a year old. ‘
Order to any guard or city warden that hears word of anything regarding a ‘Dark Guild’ or‘Brotherhood’: immediate word is to be send to the King and local troops assembled. They are branded enemies of the crown and all assistance is to be given to any engaged in action against them.’

She read the words and felt such a wave of relief flood through her as she read. The King was on their side of the battle, and who better as an ally?

‘So the Duke is the first brother then?’ He asked as she read it.

‘I think that’s what they call him,’ she said.

‘You’d think they’d tell you these kinds of things. See, I was sent here as soon as we found out about this letter, and almost a bloody year or so I’ve been waiting and waiting, and now finally I have a chance to help. First brother will be so pleased with me.’

He stood and yelled, ‘Guards!’ The door was flung open and the two men waiting just outside had their swords pointed at her within moments. ‘Sorry, you just came to the wrong man,’ he said.