Chains of a Dark Goddess (9 page)

As Breskaro approached, the girl pleaded desperately. “Help us!”

Her body sagged though fire remained within her large golden eyes.

Breskaro drew Nightsoul’s reins and stopped in front of her cross. This barren stretch of road would soon take him to the Temple of Saint Resban. From there, he would go out into the wilderness, following an ancient, overgrown path that would eventually lead him to Peithoom Swamp. 

The moon was to Breskaro’s back and his hood up, so they couldn’t see that he wore a mask.

“I don’t help criminals,” Breskaro told the child.

“I’m
not
a criminal!” She groaned and gasped for breath before continuing. “These men ain’t criminals either!”

“We’re innocent, sir,” said the man hanging nearest her. He was a bear of a man in his mid-forties with a bald pate and a curling mustache.

Breskaro started to ride again. “You were judged so. You shall die so.”

“
Demon
!” the girl shouted. “You’re worse than … the Resbani bastards who … put us … here.”

Breskaro paused.

“Demon! Demon!
Demon
!”

Breskaro turned back. He ignored the girl and approached the man. “Who put you here?”

“Clerics from … the Temple of Saint Resban.”

“What harm did you do to them?”

“Demon!” the girl cursed again.

“Hush,” the man said to her. “We did no harm. None but that we exist. We’re a simple hill-folk … Rrakans by tribe, men of the old faith.”

“Kaynim?”

“Yes, my lord, we worship the old … rugged gods of wood and stone, fire and rain.”

“Did you flaunt it?”

He grimaced and gathered his focus. “We kept quiet, kept our ways to ourselves, stayed on our mountain, the Graypoint ten leagues from here, and bothered no one. Not many of us left. The Resbani were …. looking for a fight. And the girl … not even one of us. Came to us a straggler, her mother having …. perished of some wasting sickness.”

“I’d only been with them for three days!” the girl spat. “Priests didn’t care. I was already corrupted.”

“Would you have vengeance on these priests?” Breskaro asked the man.

“I’d have freedom.”

“Freedom comes at a cost. What is your name?”

“Larekal.”

“What did they do to your family, Larekal?”

“Told them they must convert within a ten-day or … suffer the same fate. That was three days ago. They hung us up here this morning.

Breskaro went to the girl. “Why then are you here? Corrupted you may be, but none of the other women and children were so cursed. And you’ve no family to persuade.”

“After they said I’d be condemned to Torment for my ways I brained one of them with a club. Gave him … what he deserved for … bothering these folk.”

“Alas, it’s true,” Larekal said. “The girl’s a savage.”

Breskaro stood up in his stirrups and faced the forlorn, exhausted, and dehydrated men before him. “In a way, the girl has spoken true. I might as well be a demon for I am a man returned from the dead.”

The men murmured in fear.

“If you will swear to serve me, I can free you. Together we can destroy the Resbani and save your families. However, you must serve me until I release you. You must do whatever I command, even if it goes against your beliefs. It won’t be a fair bargain. I’m a being of malevolence. And I have designs far greater than destroying the Resbani. But if you serve me, you’ll die on your feet, for your people, and not hanging on a cross.”

“We’ll do it!” the girl shouted.

“I didn’t ask you, child.”

“I will do this,” Larekal vowed.

The others muttered weak agreements.

“I
will
have vengeance on them,” the girl seethed. “They turned my mom away! Said she was … plague-ridden. Cursed her in Seshalla’s name and … she died the next day. Then they … came after these innocent people. Let me at them!
I’ll make them pay
!”

Breskaro lifted his hand and chanted the
spell of unbinding
, one of the first and simplest spells Nalsyrra had taught him. The spell required little energy, registering only the tiniest extra pulse in his qavra heart. The ropes binding the girl to the cross groaned, creaked, then loosened. Breskaro caught her. She was emaciated but alive and determined. Her hair was filthy and unkempt, blonde in color which was rare in the Issalian region.

“You smell of death,” she told him.

“That’s because I
am
dead.”

She leaned in close and stared into his eyes. “You’re wearing a mask.”

“My funeral mask. So you don’t have to see my hideous face. I look worse than I smell.”

He set her down. She stood on shaking legs.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She placed her hands on her hips and stood tall. “Esha.”

“How old are you? And don’t lie. I can tell when people lie to me.”

“Thirteen. Yes, I look younger, but I swear that’s how old I am.”

“Esha, I will grant you freedom, but that’s all. It’s not the place of a young woman to extract vengeance.”

Esha clinched her fists and smoldered. 

Breskaro used the spell again to free Larekal. The man fell to the ground, groaned but lifted himself up. Breskaro chose another man who looked strong and capable and freed him.

“You two can catch the others as I free them.”

A lantern flared to life within the guardhouse.

“Quickly. The guards must have heard Esha yelling at me.”

Larekal and the other man followed Breskaro as he chanted the spell to loosen the bonds on all the crucified men. Most were in decent shape. Once the last man was down, Breskaro gathered them. 

Voices rose in the guardhouse. Armor was donned, swords belted, crossbows lifted and cocked.

Breskaro stood fully in the moon’s light and removed his mask. 

“I want you to see what it is that you have chosen to serve.”

Seeing the cadaverous ruin of his face, the men turned. Some cursed and others gagged. Esha stared wide-eyed but didn’t look away. Her expression settled into one of reverence.

“Who are you?” one of the men asked. “Speak true. We deserve that much.”

“I am Breskaro Varenni, once an Issalian knight and a champion of Seshalla. I died and now I have returned to life. Not to further the aims of the Issalian Empire but to oppose them. It is the goddess Harmulkot I serve now. So if you in turn would serve me, drop to a knee and take your vow.”

Faced with this specter of death, they hesitated, even to save their families and repay their debt to him. Three of the men glanced around, measuring their chance of escape.

Esha took a knee. “I vow to serve you, Lord Breskaro. You are my savior and master. I would be dishonored to do otherwise.”

Larekal turned to the others. “We know of Varenni’s bravery in battle. Aye, even against our brothers. You all know tales of his prowess and honor. Evil he may be now, but I believe he’ll keep his word. It’s a fair bargain and the only one we’ll get.”

Larekal knelt and one by one the others did so as well. Breskaro touched Esha’s head and whispered: “Go stand beside my horse and wait for me.”

Esha walked over to Nightsoul. She noticed the red menace in his eyes and flinched but she didn’t move away. 

Breskaro told the others: “I accept your service. And now, we must deal with the four guards who have flanked us, thinking me unaware of their presence.”

Chapter 13

To Breskaro’s right, two guards crept through a stand of crooked pines. To his left, the second pair crouched in a thicket of shrubs. All four wore hardened leather armor and held light crossbows at the ready.

Now Breskaro spoke the Ancient Eirsendan words of power and cast the
spell of obscuring mists
. His voice trembled. His heart raced. He had practiced the spell with minimal success. Tendrils of fog sprouted from the ground like rapidly growing vines then gathered into rising pools.

“Get down!” Breskaro shouted.

The Rrakans fell to the ground and three crossbow bolts whizzed over them. Breskaro had hesitated, distracted for a moment by a lurch in the spell’s energies. The fourth bolt plunged into his stomach. He doubled over and staggered backward, grasping the bolt. His qavra heart pulsed faster. And faster. The cloud of mist sprang up all around him, shrouding the Rrakans, Nightsoul, and Esha.

He jerked the bolt free. Being dead didn’t lessen pain. It felt as bad as any wound he could remember, save the one that had killed him. He’d died so fast that he had no memories of how it felt.

He whispered to Larekal, “Lead the men downhill. I’ll deal with the guards.”

“You okay?” Larekal asked.

“Just go.”

Breskaro drew his sword and charged into the trees, navigating the mist with ease. Not all of his time in the Shadowland was wasted. His skills were better than ever and mists were nothing to him. He could’ve managed them even without his now-heightened senses. The Resbani guard heard Breskaro coming, threw down his crossbow, and drew his sword. But too late. Breskaro buried his saber in the man’s gut. The second guard rushed in as the first fell. A swift sword thrust, an elbow to the jaw, and a slash put him down.

As Breskaro left the stand of trees, the fog dissipated, all at once, as if it had never been there. Spotting Breskaro, both guards from the thicket of shrubs loosed crossbow bolts. Breskaro twisted. The first bolt missed entirely. The second grazed his left shoulder. Breskaro charged them. One guard drew his sword and met him while the other ran back uphill toward the guardhouse. 

The guard who engaged him fought defensively, desperately trying to counter Breskaro’s unnatural speed and strength. In less than a minute, Breskaro disarmed then disemboweled him.

Breskaro raced uphill. The fourth guard was way ahead, rounding the corner of the house, aiming for the stables behind it. He stopped. A spear tip punched out through his back, glistening silver and crimson in the moonlight. He groaned and stumbled backward. A small figure emerged from the shadows and released hold of the spear. The pierced man fell.

Chapter 14

Moments later Breskaro faced the small figure.

“Got him, my lord,” Esha said, with pride in her voice and a glint of malice in her eyes.

The guard was gasping in his death throes. Frowning, Breskaro removed the spear and stabbed it into the man’s throat, finishing him. 

“Whenever you have the time, finish your enemies. It’s the right thing to do.”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“I told you to stay with Nightsoul.”

She knelt and took a sling from the man’s belt along with a pouch filled with lead bullets. “They stole my sling. My grandfather made this for me. Taught me to use it, too.”

“That cheap sling isn’t worth dying for.”

“It is to
me
. And it’s the finest you’ll ever see and don’t tell me otherwise.”

“Next time do as I say.”

“Yes, my lord. I promise.”

“In that case, you will be the one to warn the Rrakan families and tell them to move on and find new homes.”

“No — I mean, I’ll do it if you insist, but it ain’t the right job for me. They’re not my people and I’m young. Why would they trust me? Besides, I want to go wherever you go.”

“You’d be a liability.”

Esha dropped a lead stone into the sling, whirled it around her head, and released. The stone streaked through the night and clanked on the helmet of the last guard Breskaro had killed. Forty paces away with only moonlight to guide her aim.

Breskaro stared at her, glanced at the helmet, then looked back to her.

“From how far away could you have done that?”

“Not much further in this light. Three hundred paces in the day, maybe.”

Breskaro had seen highly trained Brekkan slingers who could do it from that far away but they were grown men with years of training. He released a deep, sinister chuckle. “No princess you.”

She put her hands on her hips. “I do what I must to survive. Life is hard.”

“In that case, little one, you may follow me.”

She bounced around, celebrating.

“However.” She paused. “You must absolutely do as I say from now on.”

She nodded solemnly. “I will do as you say, always, my lord.”

“I am not your lord. I am your master.”

“Yes, master.”

Larekal, leading Nightsoul, and the other twelve men — limping, weary, but unharmed — joined them.

“Do you need me to bind your wound … master?” said Larekal. “I know something of healing.”

“What wound?”

“The bolt that struck you in the gut. You were hit, weren’t you?”

“Oh, that. Yes, I was struck.” Breskaro stuck a finger through the hole in his hardened leather cuirass. His gray, decaying skin had already resealed the puncture. “There’s nothing to bind. The wound has already healed.”

Breskaro climbed onto Nightsoul and lifted Esha into the saddle behind him.