By Moonlight Wrought (Bt Moonlight Wrought) (53 page)

         “Not so brave, now, are you, whelp? 
Black turd, am I?  I’d slit you open like a little fish, and then strangle you
with your own guts!  But I have other plans for you.”  Its voice was so deep
that it rumbled within Will’s own chest, like tremendous thunder so close that
it shakes the earth.  As It pulled back, light penetrated the hood and even in
dark shadows Will could see Its face was the same twisted horror that Cinder
had seen in her last minutes, the same face It showed when the evil and the
wicked could no longer be contained in the human body, and forced their way out
uncontrollably.

         “You’ll tell your precious master that I
want to meet them, not the Watch, not any outsiders, just them, in the same
place.  I’m wounded and I want this over with.  I want them off my trail and
I’m sure they want their precious revenge.  Sunset.  Tell him!” It bellowed,
then rose up like a vast dark tower and stepped over Will and stomped away into
the building somewhere, Its boots sounding like great drum beats, shaking the
very floor. 

         Will lay still, unable to move for
several moments, then he ran.  He ran, practically flying, all the way to the
Stormweather’s, where he relayed as much as he could recall.  Alanna hugged and
calmed him; but he would remain terribly frightened for some time.

         “That’s it,” Selric said angrily.  “It’s
time to get rid of this bastard once and for all.  Take care of each other,” he
said to Will and Alanna without so much as pausing a second when they
protested.

         Dirk was in his room when Selric popped
open the door.  Dirk relaxed, putting his sword away when he saw who it was. 
“You’re gonna get killed sneakin’ up like that,” Dirk said.

         “I wasn’t sneaking,” Selric said.  Tallow
was sitting on the bed with Dirk, leaning against the wall, a book in her
hand.  “Hello,” Selric said to her.

         “Hi,” she answered.

         “Selric, this is Tallow,” Dirk said as he
continued sharpening his sword with a whetstone.  “Tallow, this is Selric
Stormweather.  He’s in our...group, I guess you could call it.”  Tallow wanted
to ask if he was one of
the
Stormweathers, but did not have the chance.

         “Dirk,” Selric said, after looking
strangely at him; he did not know that Dirk had any other friends and he did
not know what kind of friends they were or how close.  “Will was caught by
Svenson today.”  Dirk leapt to his feet, worried, but Selric quickly allayed
his fears.  “He’s fine.  The Fiend sent a message with him.  We’re to meet him
at the same place at sunset.  He wants it over and knows we do as well.  He
wants us off his ass.  He says he’s wounded.  I think we three should go now,
not sunset.  We’ll set a trap of our own.”  Tallow looked surprised.  She had asked
Dirk before if she could help him.

         “Me?” she asked.

         “No,” Selric said as if she were a fool,
then remembered his manners and smiled.  She could not help but smile back at
his incredibly handsome face.  “No Tallow:  me, Dirk, and Fiona.”

         “What about Missy?” Dirk asked.  Tallow
had never heard of any Missy before.

         “Mel’s not ready.  I already saw Fiona.” 
Tallow put Mel and Missy together and knew that it was Melissa whom they were
talking about.  She knew Dirk’s love for her, even if he had never admitted it.

         “Well I am,” Dirk said.  “Let me dress
and we’ll go.”  He walked to the ladder.

         “What about your armor?” Selric asked,
pointing to his leather hanging on the rack.

         “No, I want something else.  Goodbye,
Tallow,” Dirk said, sheathing his sword.  She ran to Dirk and squeezed him
hard.  She wanted to beg him not to go, but she knew it would be useless and
only make her seem selfish and uncaring about Cinder.  She kissed him and
watched him leave, Selric right behind with another kind smile for her.  He
mouthed the word “goodbye.”

         Dirk went downstairs to the arms and
armor department and found a highly polished steel breastplate and an
open-faced steel helm.  Then, he took a large kite shield, war axe, short
sword, and two throwing knives; this time he would be prepared.  Selric
assisted him into the armor then they saddled Dirk’s horse, Thegoric.  They
rode north and met Fiona at the Stormweather estate, where all three walked to
the rendezvous point.  They stopped by to see Bullward, but he had apparently
been revived; the tent was gone.  They entered the building and found the
window where the Fiend had fired on them and explored as much of the structure
as they could, so as to know it by heart in the coming darkness.  Selric set a
few snares which would alert them when tripped, and Dirk blocked off several
doors, making entry to their part of the structure possible only through
selected routes.  Then, they sat and they waited for their enemy to arrive.

         It was after dark, about twenty minutes,
and there still was no sign of the Fiend.  “Well?” Dirk asked.

         “I’m going down,” Selric said.  “Maybe
he’s hiding somewhere else, waiting for us.”

         “No, Selric should stay.  He’s got his
crossbow,” Fiona said.  “Cover us Selric.”  She and Dirk moved cautiously down
the stairs in the dark, and made their way out into the street.  Dirk raised
his shield and walked on, the silence and the threat of a possible melee had
his heart racing and adrenaline pumping fiercely.  Fiona had bought herself a
chainmail armor shirt, and a shield as well that day, hoping that combined with
her enchanted ring she would be impervious.  She followed behind Dirk, her mace
at the ready.

         They had passed nearly out of Selric’s
view, when he whistled them back.  He ran down the stairs and met them in the
street.  “Let’s start searching the buildings, but first let’s go to where he
fought Mendric.  We’ll go everywhere we went last night, so we cover it all. 
Who knows where he meant when he said “the same place”,” Selric said.  The three
searched for half-an-hour and found nothing. 

         “What’s it mean?” asked Dirk then.

         “It means that he set us up,” Fiona said.

         “A trap,” said Selric.

         “If it’s a trap, why doesn’t he get us?”
Dirk pressed.

         “It’s not a trap for us,” Fiona said.

         “Tallow!” Dirk gasped as he tried to run
off.

         “Wait,” Selric said, grabbing him.  “Come
with us.  Your horse is over at Fiona’s.  We’ll go past my place, it’s on the
way, then to hers, then get our horses and ride to Bessemer’s.  We should get
there just as quickly as if we were to walk directly there from here.  I’ll
even send guards down that way when we get to the estate.”  They ran as quickly
as they could to the Stormweather villa.

         Selric found Alanna and Will safe in Mendric’s
room, Alanna reading stories aloud.  With only a brief explanation Selric left
and sent a dozen Stormweather guards to Bessemer’s to check on Tallow and to
wait there until ordered differently.  It was only seven blocks to Fiona’s so
they ran, not wanting to wait and saddle the horses.  As they rounded the last
corner, the Fiend’s plan became dreadfully apparent.

         Bear Fellaxe, barbarian northman, unable
to make another sled run due to the gates being closed by royal decree, had
holed up in the city as best he could.  As he did occasionally, he had gone to
see Dirk.  When he heard from Tallow that Melissa had been injured, he vowed to
“go round her place and cheer her a bit.”  Bear thought a good sled ride would
help, passing swiftly over the snowy streets.  So he rode up.  By the time he
located her home it was after dark and as he neared, the dogs grew strangely
anxious.  Then, Bear noticed the two huge black wolves lurking near the
doorway, the doorway he knew to be Melissa’s, according to Dirk’s directions he
had gotten days ago while during a regular visit.  The wolves snarled at Bear’s
approach, so he stopped and released the dogs.

         The sixteen huge beasts, which had
attacked wolves, bears, even trolls, showed no fear and soon swarmed over the
monsters.  Bear fetched his axe and ran forward.  The dogs were in a fierce
fight that Bear did not have time to see finished:  the door stood ajar.  He
ran inside where, near the door the fat man, Marlo, lay dead; his stomach cut
open.  On the stairs ahead lay tall Donagee; his throat gashed, one arm
missing, and with a great wound to his chest.  Bear bound past them, nimbly
guiding his gigantic frame up the stairs.  But just as he reached the second
floor he was confronted by a huge black form nearly as large as himself.  It
was coming down toward him from a higher floor, Melissa in Its arms.  The Fiend
dropped Melissa and drew Itself up, even larger than the northman, seeming to
fill the entire room as Bear stepped uncontrollably back.

         Bear gathered himself, let out a bellow
and rushed forward, his axe flashing down.  But the weapon was turned aside,
wrenched from his grasp.  Bear was not taken aback, and pummeled the shadow in
the head.  It reeled, then regained It’s composure as Bear grabbed It in a
great hold, trying to squeeze the breath from It.  Bear also latched on with
his teeth, biting into the thick hide, or armor, he didn’t know which. 
Momentarily, he had the Fiend, but It turned the tables by knocking Bear’s grip
loose and grabbing him in turn.  It squeezed the northman and he heard his own
ribs crack from the immense strain on his spine.  He screamed.  Bear knew that
if he did not act quickly, his back would break next.  He slammed his broad,
scarred forehead into the face of the Fiend, and It shrieked, releasing It’s
hold. 

         Bear whipped out his long hunting knife,
wheezing from his cracked ribs, and he lunged.  But the Fiend slashed his face,
and as Bear raised his arms for protection, It brought Its knife up into his
middle, slicing through leather, hides, furs, muscle, and flesh.  Bear fell
forward, bleeding profusely.  The Fiend struck him twice in the back for good
measure, but knew time was precious.  Bear tried to rise as the Fiend hauled
the unconscious woman away, but for all he was worth he could not stand.  He
lay there, feeling his life slip away, weeping for Melissa’s fate and his
inability to help her.  He screamed his rage, calling for anyone to help his
friend, then darkness came.

         Dirk saw Bear’s sled, and nearby his dogs
were growling and tearing at the carcasses of two black creatures Dirk
recognized as the wolves, or two very much like the others, that had chased him
and Cinder.  Selric and Fiona ran up the steps and inside, Fiona screaming
frantically for Melissa.  Dirk saw that three of the dogs were mutilated,
another four were so badly hurt that they would have to be destroyed.  He felt
satisfaction that the beasts that had so terrified sweet Cinder now lay dead,
though he was sorry for the brave dogs at his feet.  “Dirk!” he heard Fiona
call, then his mind returned to him and he remembered Melissa.

         He quickly ran inside and saw Marlo and
Donagee.  “What did we do,” he thought, “bringing the wrath of this thing on us
and our friends?”  He held his head in pain and remorse.  He hated death and
wished that the nightmare his life had become would go away.  “Dirk!” he heard
Fiona call again, this time from up the stairs.  Dirk ran up, his heart racing,
blood cold at the fear of finding the most important person in his life dead in
her bed.

         Bear lay in a tremendous pool of blood. 
Tears filed Dirk’s eyes as he fell beside his friend.  “Bear,” he called.

         “I tried to stop him, Dirk.  He took
Melissa.  Carried her off.”  Fiona came back down from upstairs; she looked
totally lost and disheveled.  Selric was behind her.

         “Relarius is dead,” Selric said. 
“Aldren’s wounded upstairs.  Mel’s gone.”  Fiona looked at Bear, not knowing
him when she passed by him the first time; besides, he had seemed very dead.

         “I thought he was one of the one’s who
did this,” she said kneeling down.  She realized that Dirk knew him when she
saw his expression.  “Oh, Dirk.  He’s a mess.  I just don’t know.”

         “Please.  He tried to stop Svenson,” Dirk
pleaded.

         “Little woman,” Bear said.  “Do not
worry.  I’m prepared to meet my gods.”  Dirk motioned for her to try her magic
anyway, even against Bear’s protests.  Bear looked at him.  “Do not heal me!”
he warned Fiona, then looked back to Dirk.  “Go get her.  She will make a good
mate.”  He paused.  “Don’t wrestle him.  He’ll break your back...never felt
such strength.”  Bear’s eyes closed.

         Fiona used the power of Aura Painbliss to
heal the northman then sighed.  “He is alive:  for now.  That’s all I can do. 
The rest is up to him.”  They heard footsteps on the stairs and all leapt up,
weapons ready.  It was a man in the uniform of the Watch.  He was startled, but
relaxed when the three now -hardened warriors lowered their weapons.

         “What in the name of the gods happened
here?” he asked.  Selric reached for the writ, but realized that it was still
in the hands of the horse tender.

         “We came here and found all this,” Selric
said.  “There’s two alive, at least three dead.  I’ll explain the rest to your
constable, preferably the Head Constable.  I’m Selric Arnesson Stormweather. 
Tell him what I said.  He knows where to find me.  Now we have to get the
murderer who did this.”