A Kingdom Falls (The Mancer Trilogy Book 1) (19 page)

Spear knocked Ending’s hand away.  “Really?”

Ending nodded.

Spear remained silent for a second before he made his way to the entrance of the tent.  Looking inside, he saw the great and good of the Craktoneons praying in the early morning for the salvation of one of their founding Brothers.

He saw Brother Warsmith sitting alongside them in the front row, looking lost and unsure, as if he did not know quite what to do.  He saw Sergeant Guardian Aaron Power stare at the congregation with a hungry and predatory look.  He saw Sergeant Guardian Dransfield and Sergeant Guardian Black standing on opposite sides of the great tent.  The tension between the two men was palpable.

As he observed the gathering, he felt a gaze upon him.  Turning his head, he made eye contact with Brother Warsmith, and for a brief moment in time, the old strong and powerful Brother Warsmith returned to those eyes.  Warsmith nodded once in reply to an unasked question.  Guardian Spear solemnly nodded his respect and farewell before turning swiftly and walking to Guardian Ending.  “Provisions?”

Guardian Ending shrugged his shoulder upon which was the bag.

“How many days?”
Guardian Ending indicated five days’ worth.

“That will be enough to start with.”  Guardian Spear touched his jacket where the Sacred Book of the Craktoneons was safely nestled.  “Let’s go, my friend.”  Without a backward glance, the two men disappeared into the fog.

***

Aaron watched as the fools knelt and demanded that their false god heal an old sick man.

“
Does
the sight not sicken you, my darling
?”  Joanna Harris’ voice sounded in Aaron’s head.

“It does, my dearest.”

“
Then worry not, for soon they shall all be dead and we shall be together
.”

“Together in glorious death.”

“
Yes, Aaron, my darling - together in glorious death
.”

“The attack
?”
queried Aaron Power.

“
Shall begin in moments, my darling
,” purred Joanna.  “
Keep your eyes open as we have taught you and, through them, I shall open the shadow-doors that will bring my kin through
.”

***

Brothers Bowler and Widden, accompanied by four Guardians, entered the tent and made their way to the head of the praying Craktoneons.  Brother Widden struck the ground five times with the end of his staff, signifying the end of the praying.

“Brothers and Guardians, we are here...” began Brother Bowler when a solitary high-pitched scream sounded out from a nearby the tent.  A low murmur ran through the congregation.  Another death scream split the early morning.

***

Aaron Power smiled and drew his sword as a shadow-door opened beside him.

***

Joanna Harris charged through the shadow-door with manic eyes and a hunter’s laugh on her lips.  “Fear Him, for
He cometh
!” she shrieked.  She gripped the mace she was carrying tighter and swung it into the face of the man closest to her, shattering bones and cartilage, and spraying blood everywhere.

Two further shadow-doors opened, and Gideon Sandhu and Miriam Gregorious entered the fight, their swords slashing through flesh and lopping off heads.

***

Aaron quickly made his way to where Brother Warsmith was still kneeling.  “
Now you die, old man
,” he whispered.

Brother Warsmith looked up with a dazed and confused expression on his face.  “Boy, what is happenin...”

Warsmith never finished his sentence as Aaron’s sword drove through his chest and out his back.

***

“Noooo!” screamed Sergeant Guardian Luke Black.  As he surged toward Brother Warsmith, he saw Aaron Power place a foot on Warsmith’s chest and push him off the sword, before bending down to pick up the brother’s Holy Book.

“Die!” cried Luke as he approached Aaron, who simply looked up and sneered, as men from the Brethren of the Night flooded into the tent and attacked the dazed Craktoneons.  Luke’s sword swept down but was easily parried by the rising Aaron.  “Betrayer!” accused Luke as he swung again.

“Fool,” grinned Aaron as he repelled Luke’s attack and pressed home his own.

“You will die, betra... Arghhh!”  Luke called out as a dagger was plunged into his back.

Aaron Power nodded to the Brethren standing behind Luke, who had sunk his dagger into the Guardian’s back.  “You are not worth the effort,” scoffed Aaron as he turned and made his way towards the love of his life, who was currently ripping through the Craktoneon Guardians.

***

The Brethren pulled out his dagger from Luke’s flesh and plunged it in again with a mad giggle.  Luke dropped his sword and fell to his knees as once again the blade was removed from his flesh.  Lifting his head, he witnessed the massacre of his comrades.  How easy it had been, how so very easy it had been.  Luke swayed a little as a heavy object crashed into him on the way down to the ground.  Turning his head, he saw a man’s body lying next to him, blood pouring from a wound to his head.

“Come on, Luke.  Get up.”  Hands grasped him under the armpits.  “Get up, Luke.  Now!”

Luke pushed himself off his knees with the help of his rescuer and onto shaky feet.

“Fuck!”  Suddenly, his helper let go and Luke staggered to stay upright.  Then he was grabbed hold of again and led forcibly out of the tent and into the deep thick fog.  “Keep moving,” the voice urged him.

Luke turned his head to view his rescuer and, as he did so, the gratitude vanished from his face and voice.  “You!”

“Yes, me,” replied Dennis Dransfield.

“You are always late.”  Luke’s voice was devoid of emotion.

“And you are always charging into trouble.”  Dennis’s voice was equally devoid of emotion.

***

Joanna Harris ripped out the throat of the Guardian who had dared to confront her with her fangs.  His rich crimson blood flowed down her throat like nectar. 

Nearby, Miriam Gregorious and Gideon Sandhu were tearing their way through the few remaining Craktoneon.  The mortal Brethren weaved through the slaughterhouse that the tent had become, slitting the throats of the badly wounded and tying up those less injured before dragging them away for tonight’s victory celebrations.  Joanna dropped the corpse and let out an evil laugh at the thought of the sweet entertainment their screaming bodies would produce.  Suddenly, she stopped as she felt someone watching her intently.

Aaron Power looked on in awe at the woman he had fallen in love with, who was only standing ten feet away.  She was perfect.  She was beautiful.  She was the living embodiment of death.  He slowly started to move towards his vision of perfection just as she moved towards him.

Joanna moved towards the man whose dreams she and her master had haunted for so long - the man with the twisted mind and the love of death so rarely found in the living.  Joanna bared her fangs as he approached.

“
He cometh
,” Aaron said.

“Who cometh?”

“
The Midnight Man cometh
, my love.”  Joanna reached out and grabbed Aaron’s shoulders, holding the man firmly in place.  “Our union shall forge a pathway for His return.”

Aaron slid his arms inside hers and pushed them away before taking Joanna’s head in his hands.  “You are truly beautiful, and together we shall bring our Lord and Master back into this world.”

“
His time cometh
!” shouted Joanna, excitedly.

“
The Midnight Man shall cometh again
!” screamed Aaron Power before pulling Joanna’s head forward and kissing her bloody lips.

“
THE MIDNIGHT MAN COMETH
!” screamed the Brethren, both mortal and immortal.

Joanna broke the unholy kiss and looked deep into her soon-to-be husband’s eyes.  “-
and the world shall tremble at His touch
.”

“-
and the gods shall die
,” replied Aaron.

***

As the midday sun shone down from the clear blue sky, Reif Rothgal sat on his horse and silently viewed the scene of destruction.

“Who could have done this?” asked Alex, his face ashen, as he stroked his horse’s neck.

Reif remained silent as he continued to take in every disturbing and grizzly detail.

“Have you seen what they did to that man there?”  Alex pointed to a particularly gruesome sight.  “Do you think he was still alive?”

“Yes,” Reif replied indifferently as he dismounted from his horse and calmed the jittery beast.  Turning the creature around, he walked a few yards away and tethered the horse to a tree, before returning to stand beside Alex.  “Go tether your horse near mine, Alex, and then follow me,” commanded Reif.  Too stunned by the scene of slaughter, Alex obeyed Reif without question.

Reif walked through the ruined camp and the many cadavers that littered the ground towards the large tent, which was the only thing still standing.  The sight he saw as he entered the tent caused the first flicker of emotion to appear on his face.  First, he stared in disbelief, then horror, and finally, anger at the macabre scene that greeted him.

“They were massacred,” said Alex as he joined his friend.  “How could so many trained and armed men be so easily kill…” Alex started to dry heave as he glimpsed the inside of the tent over Reif’s shoulder.

Ignoring him, Reif walked into a scene from any sane man’s blackest nightmare.  Upon the poles holding the tent upright, all the leading Brothers from the Craktoneon delegation had been tied or nailed.  They had been eviscerated and their insides placed as sickening decorations along the walls of the tent.

Other corpses had been set up to recreate bizarre and grotesque sexual acts around the centrepiece of the tent.  Reif strode to the centre of the tent where a chair had been placed, and on that chair sat Brother Warsmith.  Two long metal nails had been driven through him, pinning him to the seat to keep him upright.  He had been positioned so that one hand was on his lap and in his other was a delicate cup.  A piece of paper had been placed in his mouth.

Reif leaned over and looked in the cup.  It was full of congealed blood.  Reif wrinkled his nose in disgust before removing the piece of paper from the man’s mouth and reading the message written on it.

“What... what does it say?” Alex managed to stammer from the entrance.

Reif turned his head to face his friend.  “It says ‘
Take a drink and celebrate, for He will soon arrive upon this land and challenge the gods themselves.  For He is the Midnight Man and He Cometh’
.”  Reif crumpled the paper and threw it to the floor.

Taking one last look round, he made his way to the exit and Alex.  “Come.  Let’s get out of here.”

“Agreed,” said Alex as he followed Reif to the horses.  “The entire senior leaders of Craktoneon wiped out - I can’t believe it.”

Reif remained quiet.  Shaking his head, Alex Weir continued, “Who could do this?”

Reif stopped before his horse.  “The thrice-cursed shapeshifter, the deviant, and the depraved worshippers of the damned.  That is who, Alex, that is who.”

“What are we going to do, Reif?”

Reif unfettered his horse and mounted up.  Looking down at Alex, he said, “Deep Lake is full of corruption and deviants.  The Queen is nothing but a whore to the shapeshifter.  The Red Bank has been left to suck the life from everyone of noble birth.  I shall not be returning to that place of filth.”

“We could try and find any surviving Craktoneons and join up with them.”

Reif surveyed the destruction.  “No.  The Craktoneons have been broken.  There is no place for me there.”

“Then, where?  Damn it, Reif.”  Alex mounted his horse.  “Tell me, where do you go?”

Reif stared into the middle distance for a moment before quietly declaring, “I shall go to our second city, Idris, up near the Granite Mountains.”

“Idris!”

“Yes, Idris.”

“Isn’t that where the legend of the tailor who held the wall single-handedly against the Brethren of the Night came from?”

“Yes.”

“And where C-Company is based?”