Brotherhood Saga 03: Death (12 page)

“You
’re just stressed,” he mumbled, leaning back against the chair that his head had just recently took refuge under. “Give yourself some time. You’ll get over it.”

Could he really, in the end, get over the death of such a close friend?

You saved my life,
he thought.
For that, I can never repay you.

The rain continued on.

A bead of moisture slipped from his eye and traced its way down his face.

It could have been the first time he cried since the entire ordeal began.

The night rose to morning and struck shards of light across the sky. Haunting the far horizon like some deathly thing creeping into the garden of the living, its hand of mottled, grey flesh spread over the sky and seemed to encapsulate all but one brief glimmer of hope within its mighty fist. First to rise, but surely not last to greet the new day, Nova pushed himself to his feet just in time to see the double doors open and the Dwarf wander in with an oversized hat that covered
her entire brow except the beginnings of her eyelashes.

“Good morning,” Carmen said, without a pause in her beat.

“Where did you get that?” he asked, unable to restrain the smile that pulled the corners of his lips.

“I found this in the store across the street.”

“Did you pay for it?”

“The man running it gave it to me, so no, I didn
’t, but I would’ve and you know it.”

“Oh, I know. Don
’t worry.”

“It looks like we
’ll be dealing with some weather today. Hope you’re in the mood to get a little wet—unless you’d like to borrow my hat, of course.”

“I
’ll pass,” Nova laughed, buttoning his jerkin in place. He turned his attention to the small pack at Carmen’s side and smiled when he realized it must have been full of more of her trinkets. “Are you ready?”

“Just as soon as we eat. Then we
’ll be out the door.”

A quick breakfast of biscuits and jerky later, they were seated atop the long-haired Cadarian mount and making their way north, away from the city and ultimately the sight of war. A low tune hummed beneath her throat and her hat sturdy atop her head, Carmen ran her fingers through the stallion’s long fine mane and tilted her head up occasionally to look at the darkening sky around them. It would likely rain, give or take the next few hours, but that didn’t necessarily matter, so long as they weren’t ambushed by Marsh Walkers or anything of the sort.

We
’re too far away to be worrying about them,
Nova thought.

Still—he couldn
’t help but fear for their safety when it came to the two of them riding atop one beast of burden. Surely Carmen could not strike an enemy with her mace, and while he had a scythe that he could very easily disengage from its sheath at his back, he didn’t feel as though he would be able to maneuver both the horse and keep Carmen safe at the same time.

“Feeling all right?” Nova asked, looking dow
n at the Dwarf that sat between his legs.

“I
’m all right,” Carmen said, tilting her head up just enough to allow the two of them to look at one another. “Why? Something wrong?”

“I
’m just worried about the trip, that’s all.”

“Something happen to you
coming up this way?”

“Coming down from Ornala, actually. Me and Odin had to deal with a bunch of Marsh Walkers.”

“Nasty critters. Not that I’ve ever seen one, but I’ve heard of them. Doesn’t sound like something you’d like to run into.”

No,
Nova thought.
They aren’t.

Taking a breath through his nose, then expelling it
out his mouth, he adjusted himself in his seat and reached back to scratch his back, his attention only faltering when his eyes strayed to the sides of the road and the fresh graves that still had yet to be reclaimed by grass and other natural flora.

No more than two weeks a
go, they’d burned their own dead beneath these grounds, all to keep them from coming back to life.

Rest in p
eace, my friends.

He said but a quick prayer before returning his attention to the road.

The rain was held at bay either by divine intervention or miraculous luck for the rest of the afternoon and early into the evening. Unease wavering at the back of his neck and sparking alight the hairs on his arms, Nova navigated the horse directly down the center of the road and tried not to allow his eyes to falter toward the darkness around them, which seemed all the greater due to the fact that the moon had not yet risen from behind the clouds.

“Nova,” Carmen whispered.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Why are you being so quiet?”

I don
’t know,
he thought.

Maybe it was because he felt as though someone—or, more likely,
something—
was watching them, or maybe it was paranoia caused by nothing more than instinctual fear of the dark. While he’d never considered himself a coward or anything of the sort, it took very little knowledge to realize that in such pitch-black darkness, anything could be watching and one wouldn’t even know it.

“Nova,” Carmen said.

“I don’t know.”

“Don
’t know what?”

“Why I
’m being so quiet.”

“Do you feel like something
’s watching us?”

“Yeah. A little.”

“I’ve felt like that for the past little while too.”

Surely the horse would have been spooked had something been following them, wouldn
’t it?

Now you
’re overthinking the matter,
he thought, sighing, the hairs on the back of his neck only continuing to stiffen as the moments continued on.
Come on, Nova—get a hold of yourself. You can do this.

“Of course I can,” he whispered. “Nothing to be afraid of here.”

A twig snapped nearby.

Before him, Carmen unclasped and drew her mace.

“Do we have a light?” Nova whispered, pressing a hand to the Dwarf’s back.

“I don
’t. Do you?”

No.

“No.”

The twig snapped once more.

The source of the sound became more discernable as whatever it was marched through the nearby outcrop of trees and proceeded toward the road. Though unable to see the creature in pure, concrete detail, it was easy enough to see that it was well over eight feet tall, enough to put his six-foot form atop a horse of the same height to shame. Carmen, who sat before him trembling with her mace drawn and held at the ready, drew back against him as if to seek comfort, though whatever comfort she wished upon herself Nova could not give.

Do we run?

Didn’t animals predatory and of violent nature always pursue fleeing pray—a sign of weakness, a message of defeat, an atonement of selflessness so strong and powerful that any and all things evil and cruel would want to pursue and chase down with the utmost authority?

In those brief moments following his initial thought, Nova knew full and well that it would be impossible for them to run from whatever creature this was. For that reason, he steadied his grip on the reins an
d reached back to free his scythe from its sheath, which came out and whispered in the darkness the scratch of metal along the inside of rough, broken-down leather.

“Come at us,” Carmen whispered. “Know our wrath.”

Nova gritted his teeth.

The creature fell to all fours and began to progress slowly.

Like a cat stalking its prey—whether it be a bird, a mouse or even a worm—it began first by pressing forward and then circling them. The horse blind, possibly by darkness or even by fear, Nova forced the stallion to turn in tune with the stalking creature and waved his scythe about the air in an attempt to create a sign of danger that could possibly shoo the thing away. From his current vantage point, he felt as though he could identify the creature, if only because of its lupine form and long, extended snout, but a part of him didn’t want to believe that they were being stalked by a werewolf or anything of the sort.

“Do you know what it is?” Carmen whispered.

“Yeah,” Nova said. “I do.”

The creature stopped pacing them.

The horse whinnied.

The w
erewolf stood to its full height and spread its arms at its side.

Nova lashed out.

The creature dodged.

Carmen flung her mace forward and caught the creature hard enough to cause it to yip.

The horse screamed, then took off down the road.

Carmen flew back into Nova
’s chest and would have fallen off had she not reached up to tangle her fingers within the horse’s mane.

“Ouch ouch ouch!” she cried, bowing her body forward and grabbing onto the reins. “Why is he running! Why?
Why!”

“It must
’ve hurt him,” Nova said.

Behind them, the creature kept pace at least a breath away. Panting, grunting, whispering under its breath a growl that could be signal for a pounce—Nova kicked his feet into the horse
’s ribs and held his scythe steady at his side as they continued north and up the long road that led directly from Ornala to the city of Dwaydor. Heart racing, mind about ready to collapse within his skull, he turned his head just in time to see the creature’s outstretched claw bearing down upon him.

Nails
screamed across his armor and drew blood across the horse’s flank.

The creature screamed.

“WHAT HAPPENED!” Carmen screamed.

“IT
GOT THE HORSE!” Nova cried. “IT FUCKING GOT HIM!”

The
werewolf roared.

Nova wrapped his arm around Carmen and pulled her from the horse.

At a speed undeterminable if only by the pace at which they flew through the air, he fell to the ground with the Dwarf clutched to his chest and his scythe hanging near his side. The impact alone was enough to force the air from his chest, drowning him in a sea of fear and sorrow, while his back screamed bloody murder like a child lost from its mother and wandering about the dark alone.
Help me,
he would have said, had he the breath or notion to do so, but in that moment it need not matter, for as they came to a grinding halt Nova felt on his back a million shards of pain bearing down upon him from each and every impression of his armor.

Before him, Carmen rose to
her feet just in time for the werewolf to stalk forward on all fours.

“Nuh uh,” she said, twirling her mace at her side. “You
’re not going anywhere, buddy.”

The creature howled.

Carmen slammed her mace forward and struck the creature in the side of the face.

A fresh howl torn from its throat and slic
ing the air like a dagger, the werewolf rose on its back feet, stumbled back, then threw itself toward Carmen.

Nova tightened his hand around the scythe.

No.

Carmen struck the creature in the groin and punched it square in the snout.

A squeal emanated from the broken remnants of its jaw just before its claws came barreling down upon Carmen.

The Dwarf cried out.

Though she did not scream, and though he saw her lost beneath the creature’s blatant form, Nova pushed himself up and flung the blunt edge of his scythe into the creature’s lower jaw.

The creature
’s head snapped up.

Carmen thrust her mace into its throat.

The werewolf screamed.

When steady and on his feet, Nova pressed the majority of his weight into his outstretched arms and watched Carmen stumble back and at his side.

“It’s not going to go away,” she said, panting, the breath rushing in and out of her chest as though wind on a harsh winter’s day. “Are you all right?”

“Hurt.”

“What?”

“Back. Chest.”

“Did it get you a second time?”

“
Armor. Can’t. breathe.”

“Let me take it,” Carmen said, taking another step forward.

“No,” Nova gasped. “You can’t.”

The creature pulled its claws away from its face to regard them for just one moment before it turned and disappeared into the darkness.

“Where’d it go?” he asked, finally able to gain somewhat of a normal breathing routine.

“I don
’t know,” Carmen said, “but I’m not waiting to find out.”

They assembled at the side of the road a campsite which could be described as ramshackle and without any concrete form. A rock poised at the side of wet kindling, a mace coming repeatedly down, Carmen tried to make fire in what seemed like a hopeless situation while Nova sat shirtless with his scythe over his lap and waited for the creature to gain its courage and come back once more.