Take My Heart...: Dark Ages - Fantasy (Dark Gods & Tainted Souls Book 3) (5 page)

Chapter Nine

Seth woke in the soft sand with the sun blazing down. True to their pact, Seraphina and he had spent another week living on the beach together in a lustful dream. Now though the feeling pulling him to the boats had grown stronger and stronger and nothing Seraphina could say or the fear she felt would hold him back. It was much more than a draw to finish it, he knew he and he himself had to make the crossing, of course like always, he had no idea why.

Stretching his sore muscles Seth stood. Silver sat in beside him in the sand, enduring the sunshine and watching him, for who knew how long. The Wolvern was off somewhere with Seraphina. Silver was clothed thankfully but looked troubled, he’d never seen her look worried, she like the Wolvern thought there was nothing she couldn’t handle.

Seth sat up from his sandy bed and looked at her. “What troubles you? Don’t tell me you’re sad we're leaving,” he said.

“I’m not sad you’re leaving. You both smell like sex all the time now.” She added, with a small smile, “But worried I am. I’m afraid, Seth. My people are afraid. I’ve never felt a fear like this before.”

“What of?” Seth said.

“My people are afraid, the black dogs grow in number and continue to kill and I’ve found this.” Silver passed him a scroll that looked like it was written on human skin. He tried to ignore that fact. It was a date marker of some kind, it showed the cycle of the moon changing shape and then it stopped. It went from a slender crescent, slowly to full circle and crescent facing the other way. Then it was just solid for lines and lines of script, an unchanging full circle.

“What’s that mean?” he asked.

“It means we didn’t do this, my mother told the truth, the moon just stayed one day and she didn’t do it,” she said.

“So what?” Seth asked.

“Who or what did? Why? And what kind of power would one need to possess to do something like that and most of all, what are they going to do to us when they find out that we’ve ruined it all?”

Seth opened his mind and tried to think clearly. Forgetting the weapons and battles he drew his mind to memories of scholars, learning and people wiser than him. In the taking of the General, he found the memory of a scholar, in old languages and old religions. He had taken the man as just a boy, one of his first tutors.

“The moon makes your people strong, but mine weak and crazed and fearful. They had been driven to becoming monsters to protect themselves from the terror of this place. Now the sun is back, they are back to the way they were and your people feel?”

“Afraid,” she said.” It sickens me. I fear nothing, but this fear it has no source. It’s not the sun, it’s not those black dogs, it just is, and it’s everywhere.”

****

She saw it in the look on Seth’s troubled face as he stood looking at the boats. After saying his goodbyes to Silver, their unlikely ally, it was time to leave. Of the two of them, she had the most to fear in their journey onwards. She was the one who was a killer in the eyes of her gods. Her uncle had disdained the normal rules of polite society and taught her in the ways of the Guild from childhood, but she still understood murdering people for their abilities was wrong.

Still she felt such a strong desire to go onwards. It was partly some unknown pulling, but part what her exile had turned her into. In truth, she did regret much of what she had done in her life. If asked to part with the blessings those sins had given her it would be a different question, but at least, she felt guilty about it.

Seth stood beside her and the Wolvern and simply nodded his head towards the beach.

“We off then?” she said with a forced smile.

“It seems that way. You can feel it right?” he said back.

“Yes I can feel it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not scared,” she said.

“I’ll be with you,” he said back.

Chapter Ten.

Goldie lay with his head up, looking around the dirt floor tent and listening to the muffled cries and moans of the dying and injured men around him. He’d collapsed face first in the roadway after his chat with the king and was carried under the arms like a sack of shit and dumped into the injured mess of bodies with the rest of the battle damaged Reds. He looked to his left with a groggy head and looked, he’d thought they had won but he hadn’t seen this. Men with pike wounds, missing hands, and fingers, cuts and wounds roughly bound with red stained canvas and homemade bandages.

A young boy worked on his arm. He had cut the shaft off the arrow with as much care as his shaking hands could and looked at Goldie’s eyes.

“I have to pull it out, sir,” he said with fear.

“Then fucking do it, but have a cloth ready,” Goldie said with a sigh. He let his head fall back against the bag of old clothing that served him as a pillow and grit his teeth. Bloody Stellos had to use barbed arrows. He felt the head of the arrow ripping his muscle and flesh as the boy’s weak hands slowly, so slowly, wiggled it free from him. Goldie slapped his hand over his face to stifle a scream and then it was done. The boy held the arrow with a look like he’d seen his first pair of tits and smiled.

“It’s out!” He then looked at the small river of blood flowing from his patient’s arm and quickly covered the wound with a dirty bandage.

The room fell quiet as a huge shadow entered.

“Did you just cry out? I thought Northmen feel no pain,” Farirkar said.

The big man walked over to Goldie’s side and looked at the shoulder and shook his head.

“Nasty wound. Now tell me what the fuck is going on. Looks and sounds like a battle and one we were not invited too, the king?” he asked.

“Short version,” Goldie said though gritted teeth. “New king showed up, killed the duchess, killed Dagosh, killed the Cold Death and now wants to hire us,” he said.

Farirkar thought for a moment. He could see the injured men in the room, all pairs of eyes on him. He had no love for the duchess, but Dagosh was a nice enough fellow. Still, he hadn’t become a paid killer because he was the sentimental type of person. He’d just won a battle and had 600 troops with their blood still up.

“To do what and how much?” he said.

“To run the Twin Plains name through the mud and then take their Keep.”

“Ha-ha. Take a proper castle and a standing army of thousands and support from every duchy in the area? Why would we want to do something like that?”

“We wouldn’t, but we should say we do,” Goldie said.

“Oh, a plan? Are you planning something? Yeah, that sounds fine then. Ok, I’ll get the men ready.” Farirkar patted Goldie on his bad shoulder and walked out with a smile, bellowing the Red’s victory song.

Goldie watched him walk away and thought of how quickly things could turn to shit. He’d be happy with his victory, his profits, and his prospects. All he had to do was take his loot, get himself to the nearest city and set up a tavern or anything. Now he had to lead this ragtag army once again against an enemy he didn’t even want to beat let only try to. If this king was anything like he thought then he could only imagine what he wanted them to do on the way to Twin Plains. He feared for any person that crossed their path along the way. He needed to find out about this king and what the hell was driving him. As he thought a face loomed into view and it filled him with hope.

Skinner walked up silently and simply nodded. “More shit then,” he said.

“Yes, more shit. What do you know about the king?” he said.

“Almost everything. I lived in his Keep for a few years.”

Goldie thought on that fact. “You were a prisoner in his jail?”

“True enough, what do you want to know?”

“I want to know what we’ve gotten ourselves into.”

“All you need to know is who the Order of the Learned are and then you’ll know who he is. They are secretive bastards. Good thing prisoners and slaves are invisible.

Skinner sat down next to Goldie.

“I’ll start at the beginning,” he said.

***

Thellas sat in the shabby dining room and ate a quick repast. The Duchess had the fine silverware laid out and he cut into a thin slice of meat that sat cold on his plate. The servers had run away it seemed so it was left to his Red tunic guards to help him. Old Renfra had finally arrived and joined him at the table. The man had been his mentor for many years since the night in his father study. Now his face was aged and he walked more slowly but was still filled with vigor for a sixty-year-old.

The man reached out and pulling out a padded chair sat down next to his king.

“Looks like you’ve been busy. I thought you might give me the chance to talk with her,” he said.

“What has she got to say? We have her books, we know where the passages are. She’s told us all she needs to.” He spoke between mouthfuls of meat.

The old man slapped him hard across the face with a loud crack. The king looked shocked and tears almost welled in his eyes. He spat the unchewed meat back onto the plate.

“I said I wanted to talk with her, did I not?” he said sharply.

“I’m sorry, of course, you did,” he said, rubbing his face lightly. “I got carried away.”

“Now finish up and follow me. We need to see if our spies have spoken true about this place.”

The king put down his knife and simply slid off his chair. He knew it was a mistake to keep his mentor waiting. He followed the elderly man through the dining room and into the library. It was a ruin. In the corner of the room lying on the plush carpet, lay the body of the Duchess. A torn down curtain of dark black covered her body from sight. The floor was littered with torn and destroyed books. The old man looked back at him and laughed.

“You did get carried away didn’t you!” He beckoned him to a wall. “Look at this.”

With a careful hand, he pulled out a single book, as it slide out there was a slight clicking sound from behind the bookcase. Taking the wooden frame he slid it slowly to the left, showing a dark stone archway and metal stairs behind.

“Let’s see what they’ve been hiding away down here,” he said with a grin and led on.

His feet easily found the metal stairs and his fine boots made no noise as he followed the old man down into the darkness below. The room was dank and smelled of wine and old barrels. The room opened out at the bottom and Thellas followed the disappearing back of his mentor. Soon they stood in an opened out room. It was filled with racks and racks of wine bottles. Each had neat writing on the label.

“A winery?” Thellas said.

“You see many grapes around here?” the old man said.

He reached out for a bottle, taking it carefully in his hand and let it fall to the stone floor. It fell with a soft cracking sound. They watched as the dark red liquid slowly dripped from the cracks in its surface.

“It’s blood wine, filled with dark magic and secrets,” he said.

The king was filled with rage as he looked at them. This was the sort of dark magic that his father died trying to destroy.

“What should we do with this, my King?” The man grinned.

“Destroy it all, every bottle, every drop, every trace,” he said.

Thellas reached forward. Taking a bottle smashed it hard against the stone floor, then another and another. All the work of the Gatherers, years, and years of collected knowledge. Languages, skills, learning and memories. He slowly and methodically smashed every bottle, sullied every drop and destroyed every trace.

Chapter Eleven.

Seth stood looking out to the small boats and saw his. He realized there was no way he could board one with Seraphina, he looked over at her and saw she was having the same thought.

“I’ll just hold yours tight, or lash it with a rope or something, we’ll journey together,” he said.

She held him close, now she was here the urge was pulling her as well and she knew it was time to face what she’d done. That person she once was seemed like a faded horrible memory but she still had to answer for her crimes.

“Thank you,” she said.

Seth looked at the Wolvern. It was so strong and powerful now and even beautiful. Its white fur shone in the sunlight.

“I guess this is goodbye then,” Seth said out loud.

It spoke back in his mind.
Only, for now, Druheim, our paths are still linked I’m sure of it.

Seraphina knelt down to the creature and held it close. She was going to be strong.

“I’ll miss you, Lord Dog, thanks for all the bats,” she said.

It laughed darkly.
Do not fear you’re still the strongest of us, remember that you are a warrior and not a victim, go into this with your head held high.

Seth patted the Wolvern on the head and it snapped at him. He took Seraphina’s hand and they started walking to the boats. He led the way to the one he knew was meant for him. The water of the ocean was cold on his feet and they waded until he was next to the wooden boat. Seth hugged Seraphina tight, feeling the warmth of her body in the cold water. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you go.”

Seth climbed into his boat and reaching out pulled another one close to his. She climbed into it and sat so they were both facing the distance.

“You ready?” he said.

“As I’ll ever be,” she said.

The boats started to pull away from the shore, moving from its own power. Seth easily held hers close to his as they slid across the water into the fog. The shore was disappearing and he heard the Wolvern’s words in his mind and surely hers.

Try not to let him die,
it said.