Warden (Book 2: Lure of the Lamia) (7 page)

BOOK: Warden (Book 2: Lure of the Lamia)
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Chapter 10

 

Errol went through his typical routine the next morning, trying to ignore the palpable sensation of excitement in the air. Everyone was keyed up over the fact that the troupe would begin performances that day.

Naturally, however – being a farming community – chores still came first in Stanchion. Thus, even with visitors coming in from nearby wards, not a lot was expected to happen before early evening. But that still didn’t keep everyone from talking about it.

Nevertheless, after completing his rounds, Errol meandered slowly back to the area that had been designated for the troupe’s use; as usual, when people were in a celebratory mood, there was always the potential for things to get out of hand: jealous rages, drunken brawls, etc. Thus, he’d be serving in a peacekeeping capacity for the most part, making sure things stayed civil. However, it meant that this would be a long day for him; although he wouldn’t have to stay until the last performance, he would be here well after the time he’d normally have turned in for the night.

Fortunately, the evening progressed without anything untoward happening. Although there were lots of unfamiliar faces – visitors from neighboring communities – everyone proved to be on their best behavior.

The area provided for the troupe’s use was a flat, open area often used for community picnics. Although very much near the center of town, it wasn’t too far from the river (so there was a source of fresh water) and sat on the edge of the forest.

Anru and Miabi’s performers were lively and engaging. Anru, for instance, put on an amazing display of strength – lifting extreme weights, bending metal bars barehanded, and the like. Sharn showed rare skill with the bow, shooting arrows through tiny rings, using them to snuff out candles, etc. All in all, the entertainment was everything the crowd could have hoped for.

In addition, the male members of the troupe tried to charm the local girls with flowers and sleight-of-hand involving cheap jewelry. Likewise, their female counterparts flirted brazenly with the Stanchion boys, trying to get them to participate in games of skill. (In fact, Errol saw Miabi’s daughter Sharn – when she wasn’t performing – chatting animatedly with various guys on no less than three different occasions, including the mayor’s son, Chad Sterillo).

Things went so smoothly that Errol even had time to spend a few minutes with Gale. Sadly, she was having a “girls’ night” with about a half-dozen of her friends, and refused to let him pry her away from them for long. However, she did let Errol sneak a kiss, and made sure to let him see that she was wearing the bracelet he’d given her.

There were actually only two instances that Errol found noteworthy through the course of the evening. The first was when he found Baro conducting his knife-throwing game. Immediately furious, Errol had stomped over to the man’s booth, practically ready to throttle him. Surprisingly, Baro had greeted him with a smile and asked Errol to examine his knives again. This time, he found all the blades to be near perfect.

“You switched them out,” Errol observed, putting the knives down after inspecting them. Baro said nothing, merely smiled. “All right, you can have your game, but if I get any complaints of cheating, everyone who played gets a full refund.”

“Fair enough,” Baro said, acquiescing.

The other event that got Errol’s attention occurred later, when the show involving Berry began. The homunculus had fascinated him earlier, so he had made sure to be on hand when the barker proclaimed that the little man was ready to be displayed.

“For a single coin,” announced the barker (another son of Anru and Miabi named Cru), “you can see a sight so rare and so astounding, you won’t believe it. The homunculus! A man so tiny he can stand in the palm of your hand, and yet whose knowledge would fill a thousand books!”

Errol had to admit that the barker was good, and a line soon formed in front of the tent housing the little man’s cage. The barker then began allowing about a dozen patrons at a time to enter the tent, which was about all that it could comfortably hold. Included in the first group were a couple of farmers, a few out-of-towners, and Gale – along with her friends. As Warden, Errol was privileged to enter without paying and he did so, eager to see what Gale and her friends’ reaction would be.

Inside, everyone gathered around the table holding Berry’s cage, with the barker in the middle of the group. (The only exception to this was Errol, who – having already seen this attraction – stood off to one side.) The cage itself was covered with a cloth, so that the interior of it could not be seen.

“Now,” said Cru, “I present – the homunculus!”

Cru whipped the cloth off the cage in dramatic fashion, and there was a collective gasp of amazement as everyone first laid eyes on Berry. There was a slight bit of jostling as several people leaned in for a closer look. On his part, Berry – still playing his card game – ignored everything going on around him. You would have thought he was in the privy for all the attention he paid those gawking at him.

“And now, a special treat,” said Cru. “For the lowly sum of one more coin, the all-wise and all-knowing homunculus will answer a single question for any of you. Any question at all.”

There was silence for a moment as everyone looked at each other. Finally, one of the farmers reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin.

“I’ll bite,” said the farmer, handing the money to Cru, who tossed it into the cage. As soon as the coin passed through the bars, Berry looked up at the farmer.

There was silence for a moment, and then Cru gestured to the farmer, saying, “Please, ask your question.”

“Will we have good rain this year?” the farmer asked.

Berry’s eyes began glowing eerily red as he pondered the question for a second before responding. “Rain is water, which is the source of all life. It makes plants grow, quenches thirst, refreshes. Rain, then, is always good. And yes, you can expect it to rain.”

General laughter followed this proclamation as the farmer frowned, unsatisfied. “That’s no answer! He hasn’t said anything that a two-year-old doesn’t know!”

“I’m sorry,” said Cru. “The homunculus answers questions with wisdom we may not fully understand.”

The farmer turned to a young man next to him – obviously his son, as they had the same look and build. “Let this be a lesson to you, boy. Never deal with creatures of magic; they’re far too wily and will get the best of any bargain you make with them.” This was followed by more laughter.

“I want to try,” said a voice Errol recognized. It was Talia O’Dell, who just happened to be one of the girls in Gale’s group. (As near as Errol could figure, the two were in each other’s company tonight by virtue of having mutual friends as opposed to having a sincere fondness for each other.) She handed a coin to the barker, who placed it in the cage. Berry’s gaze turned to her.

“Who is my one true love?” Talia asked, casting a glance in Errol’s direction. Errol saw Gale’s face turn red in anger, and her fist curled up into a ball tight enough to crush diamonds.

Berry’s eyes glowed red again. “You are quite a beauty, gentle girl. Lovely hair, flawless skin, soft hands. I can see that you take great care of yourself and have much pride in your appearance. You would be a dream come true for almost any man.”

At this, Talia once again cut her eyes smilingly towards Errol, who found Gale also giving him a look of righteous fury.

“As for your one true love, you have already found them. The person who loves you above all others. The person who cares for you more than anything else. The person who will do anything to make you happy. Your one true love is yourself, selfish child.”

The tent again broke out in infectious laughter as Talia’s mouth dropped open. Now it was Gale’s turn to smile and Talia’s to be furious. She stomped off to the side like a petulant child, not far from where Errol stood.

It was clear now that Berry’s specialty was comedy, as more patrons paid not so much for the accuracy of the little man’s answers but for their jocularity.

“Evil little monster,” said a voice next to Errol. He turned and saw that Talia had moved closer to him. “Would it kill him to give a straight answer?”

Errol shrugged. “Maybe that farmer was right. Homunculi are unnatural creatures, born of earth-magic, so maybe it’s best to leave them alone.”

“Earth-magic?” Talia repeated. “I’ll have to ask my great-grandmother about that.”

Errol nodded silently. Talia’s great-grandmother (who came from a distant land) was reputedly a powerful witch. Errol didn’t know if that term properly applied to her, but the old lady had definitely been trained in magic to some degree. He had seen her use it. But almost everyone was able to utilize magic to some extent, although few outside of sorcerers and the like were as well-versed in it as the Wardens.

Wary of how Gale would interpret his proximity to Talia, Errol chose that moment to leave the tent. A few minutes later, he saw Cru show the first round of patrons out and invite the next group in. He gestured to get Gale’s attention, urging her to come over.

“I’ll be leaving shortly,” he said. “I’ve got to get home and get some rest. I’ll be having long days the entire time these performers are here.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Gale said. “We’ll be leaving shortly ourselves. A couple of us will still have to ride back out to our farms in the morning, so we plan on heading out at first light.”

Errol nodded, grateful that she didn’t seem interested in saying anything about Talia. Gale looked at him expectantly, but here – surrounded by people – he felt less sure of himself than he had in the Beverly barn.

“Well, goodnight,” Gale said after the quiet had endured for a few seconds. She turned to walk away.

Before he knew what he was doing, Errol reached for her, taking hold of her arm and turning her back towards him, before kissing her. A bevy of hoots and jeers erupted from her friends, making Errol blush and pull back.

“Ignore them,” Gale said, giving him a quick kiss before stepping away.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked.

She turned towards him, frowning in thought as she continued stepping backwards towards her friends – including an angry-looking Talia. “Unlikely. I still have chores to do at night – mending, cleaning, and such, you know. Two nights in a row might be pushing it.”

“Then I’ll see you the night after tomorrow.”

“We’ll see,” she said with a smile, and then stepped quickly back over to her friends, who were giggling and speaking in hushed whispers.

Errol left shortly thereafter, going home and thinking that spending a good portion of the next few nights watching the troupe wouldn’t be so bad if it let him spend more time with Gale.

The next morning they found the first body.

 

Chapter 11

 

Errol felt as though he’d barely closed his eyes when fierce banging on the door of the Station House woke him up. Looking out his bedroom window, he could see that it was still early – well before dawn. Nevertheless, the pounding on the door continued, and as he staggered sleepily through the house and opened the door, Errol fought the feeling of irritability that often accompanied a night of less-than-adequate slumber.

Standing on his porch, illuminated by the torches they held, was a group of about ten people, led by Mayor Sterillo. Just from the look on their faces, Errol knew it was bad.

“We’ve got a body,” the mayor said, before Errol could even ask a question.

Without another word, the mayor turned and stepped off the porch, towards a wagon parked in the Station House yard that Errol hadn’t initially noticed because of all the people on his porch. He fell into step behind the mayor, with the rest of the group following him. The back of the wagon was covered with a tarp.

“You may want to prepare yourself,” said the mayor. “It’s pretty bad.”

The mayor whipped the tarp away, and Errol struggled not to wince at what he saw. The body in the wagon was that of a young man – roughly eighteen years old or so. Alive, he probably would have been hale and hearty, with a broad chest and well-muscled arms. That chest was now caved in, with almost every rib broken and several plainly visible. His limbs, all folded inwards towards his body, seemed to bend at odd angles – clearly broken by the application of some crushing force. His stomach had split open under whatever pressure had been applied to him, spilling the victim’s intestines. In short, the body looked like an overripe piece of fruit that someone had squeezed to pulp. The only thing untouched had been the young man’s head, but even that was not completely unsullied, as it appeared that he had spit up an inordinate amount of blood – enough to cover the lower half of his face – when he died.

Even with the blood, however, the young man seemed familiar to him. Then Errol remembered: it was one of the guys who Sharn had flirted with.

“What do you think?” the mayor asked as Errol grabbed a torch and leaned in for a closer inspection. “A constrictus, maybe?”

“Maybe,” Errol said. “Where was he found?”

“Down by the river, near the Heart Tree.”

Errol nodded. A constrictus was a predator that seemed to be a hybrid between a carnivorous plant and a vicious reptile. They usually lived in aquatic regions, and had lengthy tentacles (or vines, depending on who you asked) to bind prey and hold them underwater.

“I can’t say that it
isn’t
a constrictus,” Errol said after a few moments, “but I’ve never seen one do anything like this – at least not with a person. For the most part, they try to wrap you up, drag you underwater, and make you drown. I’ve never seen one crush a body like this before.”

Errol pulled the tarp back over the body and stepped back. “I need to see the area where he was found,” he said.

*****

 

Errol had initially thought that he’d need a guide to show him where the body had been discovered. He could not have been more wrong. The area in question was clearly defined by a large, conspicuous expanse of ground covered by a brownish coating that Errol immediately recognized as dried blood.

It had taken about an hour to get to where the young man had been killed, and by that time the sun was starting to climb into the sky. Errol had been grateful for the fact that he wouldn’t have to inspect the scene by torchlight. The mayor and his group stood by silently as Errol canvassed the area.

If there had been a struggle, not much evidence of it was present. Based on the tracks he could see, Errol concluded that the victim – now identified as being from a neighboring ward – had been pounced upon practically without warning. Two things struck him as odd, however.

First of all, although the imprints on the ground gave the impression of a large, serpentine body, they weren’t consistent with any constrictus tracks that Errol knew of. He didn’t see any evidence of the vines or tentacles that a constrictus would normally use to move along the ground. What he saw seemed more consistent with a giant snake.

The other thing that gave him pause was the fact that there were no tracks or trails to or from the river. It was as if whatever had killed the young man had sprung up from the ground…or fallen on him from overhead. As the thought occurred to him, Errol looked up in alarm, his hand instinctively going to his dagger. The others with him did the same – some even gasping as they turned their eyes to the limbs overhead – although any fears proved unfounded. There was nothing threatening in the branches above them.

Errol took a moment to look around. They were standing about twenty feet from where the ground sloped down to the edge of the river, in an area that was not heavily wooded but very well shaded. Not far away stood the Heart Tree. It was in fact, not a single tree, but two huge trees that, over hundreds of years, had grown up in such close proximity that they had fused together. They were like an old wedded couple, which had led to young paramours carving their names inside hearts on the trees. Hence the name “Heart Tree.”

Over the years, as the trees continued to grow, the earlier-carved hearts moved up the trunks, leaving room at the bottom for new lovers to etch symbols of their undying love. In short, hand-carved hearts and names now covered the lower thirty feet of the two trees. In fact, several of Errol’s own ancestors were supposed to have their names somewhere on the Heart Tree.

Errol turned his attention back to where the killing had occurred. There had been lots of people through the area, and many of the tracks had been trampled (probably the result of the body being discovered, then moved, etc.). Still, by diligently searching the region, he was able to come across what he believed was the killer serpent’s trail. It ran across the ground to a spot about forty feet from where the body had been discovered, disappearing at the base of a tree.

Errol looked up again, not surprised this time at finding nothing above him. Whatever the creature was, it had killed and run away. Which begged another question: if the young man had been prey, why hadn’t he been eaten – even partially? Other than apparently being squeezed to death, nothing else had been done to the body.

Errol turned to the group that was with him, all of whom – especially Mayor Sterillo – were obviously waiting for him to speak.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what did this,” he said, before explaining the conclusion he’d reached.

“So,” said the mayor, “you think it’s a serpent of some kind, but not necessarily a constrictus?”

“At least not a species that I’m familiar with,” Errol replied, “but that’s about right.”

“What are you going to do about it?” someone asked.

“I’m not sure there’s anything I can do,” Errol answered. “My best guess is that it came from the river, even though I don’t see any tracks to or from that direction. I could set a ward for it, but it’s not like putting one in front of a monster’s lair, the place where you know it goes in and comes out. It’s a riverbank. It can come out anywhere up or down the bank, and on either side.”

“So what should we do?” another asked.

“Honestly speaking,” Errol said, “based on the fact that – other than killing him – it didn’t molest the victim further, there’s a good chance that this thing isn’t really a man-killer. And if that’s the case, it’s probably moved on already.

“That said, we’re only about a quarter-mile from where the troupe is performing, and the Heart Tree is a popular attraction. We’ll warn everyone to stay away, but we’ll post a couple of guards here tonight, just in case.”

It wasn’t a perfect solution, of course, but it seemed to mollify those present, most of whom were residents of Stanchion. Mayor Sterillo selected three trios from those present to be guards who would serve in shifts that night. With that settled, the group broke up to go spread word of what had happened. The mayor volunteered to take the victim’s body to Barton Winslow, a Stanchion farmer who also served as the ward’s undertaker, in order to prepare it for transport back to its hometown.

Errol was the last one to leave the area. He felt he’d done his best, but something about this entire scenario left a bad taste in his mouth. Or maybe he was just tired. Hopefully, he would be able to get through the day with minimal effort, make a perfunctory appearance at the grounds where the troupe was performing, and then get to bed early enough to catch up on his sleep.

In the end, he was only partly right. While he got through the day without incident for the most part (he was occasionally asked about the young man who had been killed) and he was able to get home at a fairly decent hour, his sleep was once more interrupted in the wee hours.

Another body had been found.

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