Born of Hatred (28 page)

"Yes, you did. I never mentioned that she was Indian, only that she was a woman."

The smile vanished as if wiped away by the increasing wind that picked up around us. "And who are you to be sending people to my fort?"

I ignored his question "Where are they?"

"I detained them both pending further inquiries."

"You did
what
?"

"I can't have some Indian spy walking unsupervised around my fort. And when we tried to disarm her, she broke the arm of Lieutenant Burns."

"I don't give a damn what she did or didn't do, get her out of whatever shithole you put her in. Now."

"I am the Captain in charge of this fort, and you—"

I reached into my saddle bag and pulled out a piece of paper. "And here is a piece of paper signed by your president that grants me the rank and status of a Major of the American Army. I outrank you, Captain, now get out of my damn way and get me those prisoners."

I ignored the Captain's gobsmacked face, and rode Valour into the fort itself. 

I counted a dozen buildings inside the fort—barracks, a mess room, the quartermaster's storehouse, even a small medical centre, were all easily identifiable.  But they all paled in significance, when compared to the large two-story building at the rear of the fort. It was clearly the officers' quarters. 

I dismounted Valour and passed her reins to a young boy who came running up to me. "Take her to the stables."

He took Valour away, just as the Captain made his presence known again. "Sir, I'm sorry about what happened back there." He spoke with the displeasure of a man who'd thought of himself as the top rung on a very short ladder, and who'd just discovered that the ladder was only half made.

I folded the letter up and put it in my pocket, taking my time to let the silence linger between us. "Just so we understand each other, Captain. I'd like the woman and the boy released, and then I'd like to have a chat with you and your officers."

The following few minutes were a hive of activity as people ran around following the orders barked out by the Captain. I let myself into the officers' quarters, and tried not to scare a young woman who had been cleaning the dining area. 

She quickly made her excuses and rushed away, leaving me alone to grab an apple from a fruit bowl and take a bite. 

It took under three minutes for Sky and Sam to be presented. I knew because I'd watched the time pass on a large black grandfather clock beside me. 

"That man is an idiot," Sky said, as an army sergeant placed her knives on the table in front of her. 

"Yes, ma'am," the sergeant said firmly.

"Was I talking to you?" Sky snapped, snatching up a dagger and placing it in her boot, as Sam pounced on the bowl of fruit like a lion.

"No, ma'am," he almost whispered.

"Be nice, Sky," I said. "What's your name, Sergeant?"

"Sergeant Roberts," he said and saluted. 

"Roberts," I stood and offered him my hand, which he took in a firm, confident handshake. "Nice to meet you. Sky's right though, your captain is an ass."

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Of course," I said. 

"He's got a blind spot when it comes to Indians. He hates 'em. They killed some friends of his at Little Big Horn a few years back. Never forgave 'em for that. And he wasn't right pleased about 'em before then. It sort of pushed him over the edge."

"Does he know anything about what happened at the Warren Ranch due east of here?"

"I wouldn't like to say, but we've been ordered not to patrol east for a day or two. No reason why. None that I've heard, anyway. Captain Waltham isn't exactly forthcoming with anyone but Lieutenant Burns when it comes to giving orders."

"Those two close?" Sky asked. The weapons on the table had disappeared back to wherever they were stored on her person. 

"Thick as thieves as my mother would say. I think Burns is the only one the Captain trusts. Which is a shame as Burns is a first-class shit."

"I got that impression before I broke his arm," Sky said.

"I heard about that," I said. "You wouldn't give up your weapons."

"Wouldn't let the shit grope me is more accurate."

"If that's all, sir," an uncomfortable Roberts said and saluted before leaving the room.

Sky waited until she was certain we had no unwanted ears before talking. "How'd you manage to get the Captain to let us go?"

I pulled out the paper and passed it to her, watching with interest as she read it. 

"Is this real?"

"Probably," I said, taking it back. "It certainly comes in handy when dealing with people like Captain Waltham."

"Why only a major? Why not a higher rank?"

"Too high and people will remember you. The rank of colonel is fairly rare, and the day a soldier meets a general is a big deal to some. Something they remember."

"What if you need to get a colonel or general to do what Captain Waltham just did?"

I thought for a second. "You know, it's never come up. Avalon has enough people scattered in high-ranking positions that I can always find someone to help out. And if I can't, well, then I do things a little more subversively than I did to get into this place."

"You're just full of surprises."

"I like to impress. Did they treat you and Sam okay?"

Sam finished chewing and wiped his mouth. "Not very nice food, but that's about it. That captain yelled at me and Sky a bit, calling us traitors." 

"Sounds like you had fun," I said. "Where are the chief and his men?"

"In the woods to the north," Sky said. "Arriving with a full accompaniment of native warriors wouldn't have done us many favours. I told them to wait until morning. I was hoping that you'd have found out more from your trip to Kilnhurst."

"There's something going on there, that's for sure" I said. "Sam told me about the monster that killed his friend. Apparently, it's protecting the town, or at least that's how the inhabitants see it."

"It's not protecting them, it's using them," Sky said.

"You want to tell me what
it
is?"

"It's called a lich."

"Is that what the monster's called?" Sam asked, finally having eaten his full. "I expected the name to be more... horrific."

"Liches are evil in a way I can barely put into words," Sky told Sam. "Hard to kill, too. If you met one of them, Sam, you're lucky to be alive."

"So how do we kill it?" Sam asked.

"
You
don't. That's why I'm here."

"I think you need to explain exactly what's going on here, Sky," I said.

"A lich is roaming the countryside killing people. As a necromancer, it's my job to make sure that stops.”

"So, who sent you here?"

"My employer. Don't ask for more, because you won't get it."

"Whom does this lich hate enough to do all of this?"

"No idea, I'll ask it when I tear its soul out. In the meantime, we have a problem. I overheard the asshole in charge of this fort say that he wants some men to ride to the ranch and the other fort tomorrow. I think he's involved in all of this somehow."

As if on cue, the doors slammed open and Captain Waltham marched into the dining room with his pistol drawn. "I can't have you walking around saying things like that," he said and aimed the gun at Sky, but he was far too slow. 

Sky's hand moved a fraction of a second before mine and Captain Waltham turned into a statue. He blinked twice in what I took to be shock and then collapsed to the floor.

"What did you do?" I asked

"Moved his soul."

No one spoke; I wasn't even sure I'd heard Sky correctly. 

"I didn't tear out his soul," Sky clarified. "I moved it, slightly. Do it just right and you cause a person to freeze. It only lasts a few minutes, though."

"How did you do that?" Sam asked.

"Necromancy," Sky said. "The manipulation of the spirit, soul or whatever else you wish to call it. Everyone has a soul. No matter if they're evil, angelic, twisted or otherwise, they still have one. Only the dead don't. If you tamper with the soul of a living person, you can do all kinds of horrible things. Freezing them is one of the more humane. I usually deal with dead spirits or souls just leaving the body, but I'm not without my talents when it comes to the living either."

"So I can see," I said, as I picked up Captain Waltham and carried him to a comfortable chair before depositing him in it. I removed his Army Colt and passed it to Sky.

Captain Waltham blinked again.

"You don't have long," Sky said. "And he can still hear you just fine."

"Captain," I said, my voice calm. "You're going to regain the use of your body in a second, but please don't make my companion here angry. She's not too good at holding back the urge to hurt those who have clamped her in irons, stuffed her in a prison and been generally unpleasant toward her. She's probably tired, too, that tends to make people a little cranky. So, no shouting, screaming, yelling, or general loudness will leave your lips, or I'm going to find the monster that you've made a pact with and I'm going to feed you to it."

"You won't torture me," the captain said, his words slurred and slow.

"Who said anything about torture?" I asked. "I said I'd feed you to the monster. If he wants to take his time, then so be it. Me, I'm not going to get my hands dirty dealing with a piece of shit like you."

I moved him into a more upright position. 

"What's your plan?" I asked him. The captain opened his mouth to answer, but before he could speak, I shushed him to silence once more. "Before you start, we know you're involved, so don't bother denying it. You've been told to ride to both the ranch and the fort east of here, where you will find the various signs of violence left behind—blood at the fort and the ranch owner’s body strung up and butchered. You will then cry 'Indians did it' and use the tomahawks as evidence."

"They're savages, goddamn savages. May the Lord burn—"

I punched him in the face with just enough force to shut him up. "Don't bring any Lord of yours into this.  You did this for revenge or money. Probably both. So, don't you dare pretend that this was some divine act."

Captain Waltham touched his bloody lip and glanced at his fingertips. "You're going to burn along with them. The righteous will cast your bones into the flames of hell."

I stood back and laughed. It was a full belly laugh, and Captain Waltham's expression slowly evolved from one of anger into one of confusion. "You're an idiot," I said. Fire ignited in my hands. It was only a small sphere, spinning with slow purpose like a planet on its axis. 

Captain Waltham scrambled back up and over the chair, ducking behind it. 

"As you can see, the fires of hell would have to be
really
goddamn
hot
to make me concerned."

I stopped my magic as screams sounded from out in the courtyard. The momentary loss of concentration allowed Captain Waltham to sprint away and up a nearby flight of stairs. A door slammed above us. 

"Someone's nervous," I said, as more screams ripped through the air around us.

"Sam, stay back," Sky told him. To his credit he didn't argue.

The two of us moved toward the door and opened it slightly. The courtyard was a battleground. Two dead soldiers lay near the barracks, and even from the distance between us I could tell that their throats were torn out. 

There were things moving in the darkness around the buildings. Occasionally another scream would sound out, and then those who had finally armed themselves, or found their nerve, would start firing wildly. Sergeant Roberts ran past us as we stepped outside, and I grabbed his arm. "Is there someplace big enough for everyone that can be barred from the inside?"

"There's a room in the basement. The captain had it built. The doors are reinforced with steel plating. It's big enough to hold a hundred people and there's food and water stored there. The entrance is over in the corner." He pointed off past the officer's building to what I'd assumed was just a storage shed when I'd first entered the fort.

"Get everyone down there, now."

"But—"

"But nothing, get your people in that room right now, or you'll have no one left."

He nodded curtly, with more than a little fear in his eyes, but he was soon barking orders and gathering his men. Sam ran with a large group of soldiers, as Sky and I covered them. But whatever was hiding in the shadows did nothing to stop their retreat. 

"How many men did you lose?" I asked once the massive doors were closed and forced shut. 

"I'll do a count,"  Sergeant Roberts said.

"I'm in charge here," Lieutenant Burns snapped.

"Were you even out there? I didn't see you run in," I said.

Lieutenant Burns glanced around at his men with nervous anticipation. I was certain they weren't about to like his answer. "I was in here already, preparing for my men's retreat."

"Well, and didn't you do a good job, too? If the US had more men like you, you'd still be under English law."

I glanced around at our new temporary home. It was mostly a giant open space with a small room at the rear. Through the open door, I could see bags and barrels of food and drink, enough to keep us supplied for some time. There were only twenty-six bunk-beds, and most of those were now taken up with the injured. But there was plenty of floor space for the remaining soldiers to take the weight off their feet and try to come to terms with their new circumstance.

Torches on the wall burned brightly and I could see the holes in the ceiling that supplied the ventilation. There was even a dart board at the far end of the room. The captain had certainly taken his time to plan out everything he'd need. 

A massive pounding sounded against the outside of the door, but stopped soon after. "Someone isn't taking the hint," I said.

"I sensed barrens out there, Nate. A lot of them. Ghouls, too," Sky whispered to me.

"We need to protect the captain," Lieutenant Burns snapped to no one in particular.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"Still in his quarters. He needs to be rescued."