Finding The Soul Bridge (The Soul Fire Saga Book 1) (31 page)

59

Jem led the horse down the track to the castle. He had borrowed the sick old horse with permission from uncle Tarn. He didn’t have to go far or haul a heavy load; he only needed to look the part. He was dressed as a merchant, with a straw hat and travel worn clothes.

The horse was pulling a noisy old cart with pots and buckets and other tinckery lashed to the side. He descended the hill from the tent village, like a traveller who was nearing the end of a long journey. As he approached the bridge he kept on walking, as if oblivious to the local politics and hailed the gate. “Ahoy!” called Jem. “I be a peddler of fine wares.”

There was no movement and no answer. Jem approached the steel gate closer and closer. “Ahoy the gate!” shouted Jem. Three guards approached the gate and shouted at Jem. “Be gone you vermin, we have no interest in your pottery.” The guard’s eyes were bloodshot, an obvious sign that they were affected by the nettle smoke.

“Ahoy laddie.” shouted Jem in a jovial manner. “Mine wares not pottery is, I is tinckery and berry wine only has.”

“Berry wine?” How much berry wine?” asked the one guard.

“I is has one quart of berry wines has.” said Jem as he laboured to stay in character.

The guards laughed. “One quart?” said the one guard. “That’s not enough for a garrison, that’s enough for one man, be gone with you.”

“No, no,” protested Jem, “one quart is one quart wagon is. I is has one quart wagon, I is has a hun’d bottles is.”

The heavy gate started to open. The captain of the guard was standing by the other two guards. It was the same guard that had tried to assault them on the beach. His eyes were blood shot and black. “Let’s buy some berry wine from this guy, I need a good drink.” said the captain. “How much gold do you want for a bottle?”

“I is tired is,” said Jem. “I is not take gold is. Mine horse is sick is. I is pay you berry wines for nice horse and foods is.”

The guards let Jem and his horse in. Jem walked slowly and coughed at the smell of nettle smoke. The guards led him to their small tavern between the keep wall and the main castle. Jem didn’t ask them any questions. He played the part of a merchant who took pride in his wares and offered all and sundry a miniscule sample of the berry wine.

The ploy worked and the guards agreed on bogus terms with Jem to take a bottle each. It wasn’t long before the entire garrison was so drunk on the berry wine that Jem simply walked out of the keep gate unhindered.

60

Jem stood in the entrance of their tent. He was leaning against the tent post as he watched a group of people leave the castle in the distance. They seemed to be in a hurry. Thist was fidgeting with the inner sole of his new boots and looked distracted. He didn’t know that Jem was there.

Jem, Thist and Kelvin had discussed the plan a few times and it had seemed feasible. But now Kelvin had vanished and Thist was having doubts, or perhaps it was just anxiety. He knew that he had to do this one job and he knew he had to do it on his own. The potential fallout could be catastrophic and he didn’t want to see his friends get hurt, or worse, die at his hand.

“I think you are ready.” said Jem. “We don’t want to keep our unsuspecting adversaries waiting too long. I am sure that they are preparing their next move as well.”

Thist glanced around. “You startled me! How can they be waiting if they are unsuspecting? Anyway, I just want to look the part, you know?’

“I know.” said Jem. “But how do you fully prepare for something like this?”

“I don’t know.” said Thist shaking his head while chewing on his bottom lip. “Are there no scrolls of teaching for this kind of thing? What about the scrolls that you got from the old man? Don’t they say something?”

Jem shook his head, he was exhausted to the bone with all their travels and the work he did alone on the trebuchet. He had returned from the castle early in the morning after spending most of the night trying to evade drunk guards. Jem just wanted it all to be over already; perhaps he had never wanted to start it in the first place. They knew that there lay the answer to the world’s problem in the hands of the ruler of the castle and nobody with that amount of power in their hands would give it up without a fight. “The scrolls are useless.” said Jem. “I was inside the keep last night and had a good look at everything. The scrolls are for a different castle.”

“Well, so much for that.” said Thist.

Thist wore a long coat over a loose shirt, a pair of craftily stitched sheep skin boots with the fur on the inside, and tight trousers. All were black except for the studs on the belt and the chain mail vest made of polished rings. His long curly hair was pulled tight over his head and tied in a ponytail with just a dangling bang over his right eye where his hair had turned white.

The clothes that Thist had ordered from the tent village tailor were all freshly made to his specifications. It was what he called his ‘death wish’. He had ordered them before the siege had begun and had insisted that the tailor not spare any time or cost. “It may very well be the last thing that I wear and if I am going to die in it I want it to be incredibly stylish.” He had said.

The tailor had heard rumours of Thist’s eccentricity and had just nodded his head and mumbled, “Nobody truly knows when they will die, so you should always dress well.”

Jem knew why Thist wanted fantastic and expensive clothing. It was so that he could imbue magic into each item. Thist had noticed that if he used poorly crafted objects, it didn’t matter how great his magic was. Nothing could make up for poor quality items.

Jem knocked on the door post, “It’s time now. Let’s go.”

Thist straightened his coat in the mirror one more time and then winked at himself.

He picked up his staff from next to the door post and ambled out. His shoes made no sound on the floor, as if he were not walking but floating. The long black coat didn’t sway or flap but kept his legs hidden. Only his toes and heels could be seen flashing their presence. On Thist’s belt was his ever present whip, rolled up and held by a quick release clasp.

“Before I go,” said Thist, “I have to give you something.”

Thist present Jem with a small wooden box. It was not longer than his forearm and not thicker than his wrist. It was light and Thist had pain in his eyes as Jem took the box.

“What is it?” asked Jem.

“I have become very powerful in the last few weeks.” said Thist.

“I know, and I am very happy for you Thist.” said Jem “However it is disturbing to me. We were children when we started on this journey but now we are formidable. There is nothing that can stop us, especially you.”

Thist chuckled, “Do you remember that bear that we trashed when we got the mushrooms?”

Jem laughed. “When we lost the mushrooms?”

“I wonder what we would do if we had to encounter that bear today?” said Thist.

Jem shook his head. “He would be toast.”

Jem opened the small box. Just at that moment Thist glanced away. “It’s a small dagger.” said Jem. “Thank you. Is it special?”

“Jem listen to me.” said Thist, “This is very important. You must wear this dagger with you for the rest of your life; when you wash, when you swim, when you do anything. You and you alone must control this dagger.”

Jem raised his face inquisitively. “Why? What have you imbued into it?”

Thist was quiet as he averted his eyes from Jem and the dagger.

“Thist. What have you done to this dagger?” insisted Jem.

“I imbued it to be my ‘Bain’.”

“Your what?” asked Jem.

“My weaknesses, my nemesis.” said Thist, now exasperated. “This dagger can kill me and I can do nothing to stop the one who holds it. I am giving it to you so that you can use it to kill me if I become evil. And I will not be able to stop you.”

Jem gaped at Thist. “I am honoured that you would trust me with this but what if I become evil and you are still good?”

“I don’t know Jem,” said Thist. “Can a man who is truly ‘good’ ever become evil?”

“I think you are safe for now.” said Jem. “But what if you become evil and I die before you die?”

“Then the world will be at my mercy until a man with a good heart finds the Bain dagger…and kills me.”

Jem took the dagger and sheath from the box and tied it to his belt. “Don’t turn evil.” said Jem as he patted the dagger.

“Sure.” said Thist. “Thank you and don’t die.”

61

Jem and Thist walked out towards the castle. The smoke from the burning nettles on the far side had cleared and the early morning sunshine was welcome. Only the birds could be heard and the morning air was sporting the first cold snap of an early winter. Thist drew in the fresh air with only the smell of dead campfire coals and old road dust hinting at their own presence.

Thist looked at Jem and nodded. Both men knew that the exchange meant more than words could say. Jem slapped Thist hard on the back and said. “Go do your thing well, and I will go and search for Kelvin.”

Thist tightened his lips and nodded at Jem. Then he started walking to the castle. The guards had no idea what they were going to confront this day. No amount of preparation or battlements or bridges or moats or steel gates or boiling oil could prepare them for the apocalypse that approached them on foot.

Thist stood in front of the main gate that loomed ahead of him. It was enormous and towered above him, making him look insignificant. He waved a hand above his head to try to signal one of the guards but at this distance he could not tell if they saw him. He rubbed his hands in the cold to warm them and then he blew into his hands ending with a quiet whisper. A few minutes later a small door in the gate opened up and a squad of guards was ushered out. They all wore the same uniforms. The men wearing them, although young, looked weary and broken.

One guard put his hand to his temple and clenched his eyes as he stumbled to where Thist was standing.

“What do you want stranger?” stammered the lead guard. He was intimidated by the confidence that flowed from Thist’s face. The guard looked Thist up and down a second time and recognized his face. It was the same captain of the guard that they had seen near the beach but this time the man looked stricken as he scrutinized Thist.

“Take me to her.” was all Thist offered.

The lead captain flicked his head up and forward in a rude manner.

Thist stared into his eyes without opening his mouth, blinking or even moving in the smallest way. The guard opened his mouth in horror, dropped his sword and reached for his ears in agony as he fell to his knees.

Thist turned to the next guard and said. “Take me to her.”

The second guard was struck by fear as he glanced up at Thist and down at the captain. The captain’s body was wracked with pain as he choked on his own vomit. Thist had done nothing. The captain had drunk too much berry wine the previous night.

“We don’t have a king.” said the other guard. “May I inquire as to the name of the sir who requires the presence of our mistress?” said the guard.

“No” said Thist.

Two of the five guards tried to revive the captain. Thist ignored the commotion on the bridge and started to walk toward the castle gate.

“My good sir, please,” pleaded the guard, “our mistress will have my head if I let you in.”

“You have no choice, you cannot stop Me.” said Thist. “This entire castle has fallen under my control.”

“I cannot let you go in.” said the guard. “Sir, please.”

Thist stopped and looked at the captain whose body had gone limp, “Do you see your captain over there?”

The guard looked sombre and nodded. “Yes sir, I do.”

“If you do not want to end up like him,” demanded Thist, “then you will have to take me to the mistress of your castle.”

“Good sir.” said the guard. “Our Mistress does not show her face and she does not see people. You cannot see her.”

Thist was puzzled. It seemed to him that the guard was lying. There was something afoot and he wanted to know why the guard would risk his life before letting him in and still lie about it. “How can you serve a mistress like that?”

The guard looked uneasy. In a moment Thist could see that although this man still drew breath, the life had left him when his own dreams had died.

“You people are dead,” said Thist. “But you don’t want to die, how odd?”

“I do want to die.” said the guard.

“Then take me to your mistress.” said Thist. “She will grant you your wish and I will have mine that is the worst of it. But if I have my wish then the people will be free and you will have a new life.”

Thist walked through the gates and saw the inside of the castle for the first time. The thick outer walls were constructed with large granite blocks that had been cut and placed with precision.

On the inside of the castle walls were gardens leading up to the castle proper on the hill in the centre. Around the edges, between the gardens and the mistress’s abode, were hundreds of small chalets where everyone else resided. In the centre of the polished brick paving lay the boulder that Jem had slung in with the trebuchet. The bolder housed the secret stash of soul stones.

As Thist walked closer to the boulder he could hear the familiar voices that had haunted him for so long. He put his hand on the boulder and it cracked in half. In the centre was the cache of soul stones.

Thist retrieved them and placed them in the pouch on his shoulder strap. He had missed them from the moment that they had left him and now he was relieved to have them back with him.

Thist moved to the centre where the castle loomed. It had towers and spires like a castle within a castle. The guard’se second in command had delegated the care of his leader to two others as he came scampering up to Thist. “Please, my good sir. I beg of you, don’t wake the dragon.”

Thist stopped in his tracks as the feeling of anxiety flooded over him afresh. “Dragon?” said Thist.

The guard nodded, as he bit into his own fist. He was not meant to say anything about the dragon. It was forbidden.

“You don’t mean a metaphorical dragon, do you?”

“No sir.” said the guard “She, our mistress, is a real dragon. She sleeps and we never wake her.”

Thist knew that there was a dragon but still took the opportunity to glean as much intelligence from the talking guard as possible. “And it’s a girl dragon, is it?”

“Yes, I mean no, I mean we don’t really know for sure” said the guard, “Please just leave her be.”

“Where is everyone else?” enquired Thist as he folded his arms and stared at the guard, his eyes boring into the guard’s soul.

The guard hung his head as he started to weep. “Your army broke us.” He sobbed. “The smoke, the ghost archers, and the siege engines were bad enough, but the smell of rotting corpses…” The guard wept for a minute before he could continue. “…and then the voices. The voices shouted and screamed day and night and most of us just ran away overnight without taking any belongings. We were more frightened at the thought of the dragon’s awakening, than if your army would overrun us.”

“Why can I not wake the dragon?” asked Thist. “How long does she sleep?”

The guard ran his hand through his hair as he tried to recall details. “It has been told to us that she has been asleep for nine hundred years. It is the guard’s duty to protect her and her comfort, and to stop people and things from waking her.”

“How long has it been since the last time that she was awake?”

“I told you nine hundred years and a bit.” said the guard. “Please don’t wake her.”

“Did you capture my friend?” demanded Thist. “The one we call Kelvin.”

“No sir,” stammered the guard in surprise. “We have not captured any of your army. We tried but they eluded us. How big is your army? And how do you hide them so well?”

Thist held up three fingers on one hand.

“Only three hundred?” gasped the guard.

“No!” said Thist. “There were only three of us.”

The guard looked like a broken man. “Take me to your dragon mistress.” said Thist.

The guard cringed, “Sir, please, can I not convince you of any other outcome?”

Thist unclipped his whip from his belt in a visible display of defiance. The guard had seen what Thist could do with a whip and beckoned Thist to follow.

The inside of the castle keep was deserted. The smoke from the stinging nettle ball had left a bitter smell in the air that made ones throat itch. But worst of all was the smell that lingered from the cheese bomb. There were no people or animals around the keep area, only abandoned buildings. “Was the whole keep occupied?” asked Thist.

“No it was mostly abandoned, but for the community of a hundred guards, the support staff of twenty servants and farm hands.” said the guard.

“Where there any small children?”

At this question the guard looked puzzled, “No, we have not seen young children for nearly twenty years. You may very well be the youngest person I have seen of late.”

“How many guards are left still?” asked Thist.

The guard’s right hand trembled as he looked back at where he had left his leader and his comrades. “None, I am the last. But if you wake the dragon then I will run.”

Thist was perplexed. “Why do you guard the dragon if you are so scared of it?”

The guard shook his head, “It all made sense in the beginning I guess. The story was passed down through the ages and men were recruited to guard the dragon and the castle.”

“If this dragon is so powerful then why did it need guards?” asked Thist.

The guard looked a little irritated at this point as he screwed up his face in a gesture of annoyance. “We guard it from disturbance, so that it would not awaken.” said the guard. “Look, this is as far I’m willing to lead you. Follow this path ahead of us until you find a door. Once you have entered the door then go down the long hall until you find a broad circular stairwell leading down to the basement of the castle.”

The guard turned to flee but Thist caught his arm. “What then?”

The guard jerked his arm free. “At the bottom of the stairwell is the dragon’s lair. Now leave me be, I will not be a part of your madness.”

The guard ran for the open castle gate.