Take My Heart...: Dark Ages - Fantasy (Dark Gods & Tainted Souls Book 3) (6 page)

Chapter Twelve.

Goldie stood in the command tent and looked at himself in the reflection of the duchess’s dressing mirror. It was a long highly polished piece of bronze that showed him what a complete full he looked, dressed head to toe in regal Twin Plains attire. Clearly he was playing the part of a general. They had struggled to find something big enough for Farirkar and failed for Flint and Stone completely.

The king stood looking at him and Farirkar as they looked back like sullen children.

“You look much better. I really don’t know why you look so put out, that’s probably the finest set of clothes you’ve ever worn,” he said.

“I prefer armor I can move in,” said Farirkar.

“Anyway, shut it and listen.” The king passed them a piece of canvas that was painted with oils and showed the local landscape and roads, a map to Twin Plains.

“As you see this is a map and I’ve very helpful marked out where you’re going. It’s simple, get there, fight for two days and I’ll come and pay you. Your trip should take you about ten days with the three stops I’ve marked out.”

Goldie could see on the map three red X marks along the way to Twin Plains, somewhere quite a way, out of the way. He didn’t want to know who he’d be killing there but had to. At least, he could ask it the right way and not anger the volatile king.

“What manner of forces will we encounter at each? Number of men, weapons and defenses.”

The king laughed out loud. “Defenses? Weapons?”

“That first one is a camp of around twenty desert people who are squatting on my land, not paying taxes and worshipping some dirt god. The second is a temple to the divine child. It’s entirely filled with women. They might be tough, though, they are witches who practice evil arts. The local women go there to give birth and are given vile concoctions by the priestess there.”

“Wise women then,” said Goldie, they had them back home, they brew things like nettle tea to ease childbirth, hardly the Dark Guild reborn.

“Evil women, worshipping vile gods and powers they have no right to. If they want to help a woman in childbirth they can follow the prescribed book of lawful medicines that I have produced, at great personal expense I might add,” he shouted.

“Might help if anyone could read,” whispered Farirkar.

“The third, well you’ll find out. It’s easy. Anyway, that brings me to my next question and I must say you men are turning out to be a lot softer than I had thought so please answer this with care. How do you feel about rape?” he said as if asking how they felt about white wine.

Goldie looked at Farirkar to answer. He knew the answer the king wanted and thought the women of the divine child should be running right now.

“We’re the Red Bastards,” Farirkar said simply.

“Good that’s what I wanted to hear, now off you go and I’ll be hot on your tails to clean up the mess and console the poor victims of yours awful acts.” The king walked out of the room with a spring in his step.

Goldie looked at Farirkar again and opened his mouth to speak, but the big man put a finger across his lips. “Once, the Red Bastards and that name used to mean something. People said it with fear and awe if someone asked us to do a low act like that, be he king or duke we’d gut him.”

“And now?” Goldie said.

“We’ll do the killing. We’ll burn shit down, but I’m a warrior and not a rabid dog to be ordered around,” he said and walked out of the tent.

Goldie had picked right in that man. The old king Bastard would have gladly accepted. Farirkar was a strange one. He’d gladly kill a woman but not violate her. Goldie was the same, in the north you’d as easily be fighting a woman as a man in the line and an enemy was an enemy but fucked if he was killing a group of women because they had different gods to the king, if he even had gods.

“Nice new friends you’ve got,” a female voice said.

Goldie spun around, sword draw and saw her. Her red hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and dagger loosely in hand. He ran in and hugged Josette picking her up off the ground. He put her back down and looked at those big green eyes.

“Sorry about Dagosh” he said.

He saw the sadness in those eyes.

“He died well and will be avenged, but now you’re working for that dog?” she asked.

“You know me, my employers never seem that happy with the result, he’ll be no different. It’s good you’re here I need your help, please tell me Grimm is alive,” he said.

“Grimm is fine, if scarier and Minsetta as well, she wants us to try figure out what the king is up to,” she said.

Goldie passed her the map which she quickly looked over.

“I know what he wants us to do but not why, not really, he says he wants us to sully the Twin Plains name but these sights are all religious in nature, we could just as easily burn down farm houses, it’s got something to do with this Order of the Learned he’s involved with,” he said.

“You know about that?” she asked with surprise.

“Of course I do, now get going I have a fake battle to conduct, and take the map,” he said.

“What do you want us to do? She asked.”

“Warning them we're coming will be a good start, keep an eye out for Skinner I’ll send him to you if we need to talk. Now go save me from doing things I don’t want to do."

****

Thellas threw back the flap of the tent and stalked from it to his tall white horse which was being held by a small page boy, with a fine clean tunic. The tiny boy bowed to him and helped him mount the horse quickly. He hated these Northmen and mercenaries, they were all so tall, he wasn’t even short for a Pellosi man, almost six feet, yet these giants were still a hand or so taller than him, it was embarrassing. Mounted, he kicked his fine steed harder than he needed to, it took off with a jump and pounded towards the Keep.

His small army of men was waiting for him in the courtyard. Now at least, he felt better. His soldiers bowed their head respectfully as he passed and he could see the tinges of fear in their eyes, that was better, he was someone to be taken seriously. Jumping from his horse and landing hard he saw his mentor Renfra. He took the old man by the shoulder and led him inside of the Keep.

These Red Bastards were hardly the cold-blooded killers he’d been told about. They were much too curious by far and that Goldie was much too clever for his own good. He thought they’d be happy with their assignments and raping a few priestess to get the locals riled up should have been a nice little bonus for them.

“What is it my king, you seem agitated?” Renfra asked.

“I am, it’s these men we’ve hired. I doubt them. I can trust them about as far as their fleas can jump,” he said.

“They are mercenaries, to be untrustworthy is their profession,” he said.

“But they seem to find this current chore distasteful, what should I do, kill them now, do it myself?” he said.

“Let’s not do anything rash. I suggest sending a small group of men to shadow them. We can watch and report on what they do. If we have to kill them earlier than planned so be it. Either at Twin Plains once they have helped our cause or on the road somewhere between, it matters not,” he said.

The king calmed himself and looked at his mentor.

“Wise council as always, you go with them. I trust you most of all,” he said.

Renfra could be trusted to guide him. He’d been the one to show him the truth of the world and the horrors that hid in the shadows. The problem was a lack of fear. There were people like Elizebetha and this young bastard Seth who were against the natural order of things and they felt no fear from their actions. They seemed to think they could do anything they liked and they wouldn’t be called to account, but now he had the power he’d change that, they would learn to be afraid, just like he had.

He’d woken screaming in his bed every night for months. Visions of his father’s destroyed and desecrated body before him. He imagined the animals that had done it, their sharp soulless teeth ripping his skin and mauling him like they had his father.

He was woken by a hand lightly shaking his shoulder. It was Renfra shaking him awake.

“My young king, we’ve finally found one, one that knows of what happened to your father,” he said. The man was smiling broadly and helped him from his bed.

The young king slowly got dressed as Renfra waited outside. Putting on his finest armor and strapping a small Child’s sword to his side. He was still on thirteen and tried to calm himself, he’d asked them to find the killer and now they had. He walked from his bedroom, the bed still soaked with cold stale piss from his night terrors and walked out. His maids never mentioned it and there were no rumors or giggles behind his back, they knew better than that.

Renfra walked slowly ahead of the young king and guided him from the main Keep. They walked past his father’s study and to the back of the Keep. Down some cold stone stairs, they passed two guards who stood on the side of a large wooden doorway. One of the men just nodded at Renfra and pushing the huge door, swung it inwards. Inside was well lit and Thellas could see it was a prison. There were small rows of cells and guards sitting by them looking bored. They stood to attention as the king walked past. He wandered to one of the cells and looked into it. There was an old man in tattered robes and more than a few large bruises on his body and face. The man looked at the king with wandering blue cloudy eyes, he looked like any other Pellosi beggar to be seen in great number in the city streets.

“His crime?” Thellas asked.

“Speaking against the king’s interests,” said the captain of the guards, who had walked up beside him. The man was finely dressed and had a small eagle on the breast of his leather armor a sign of office. The king looked around at the ten or so people in various cells.

“The rest?”

“Same crime, different methods.”

The boy was slightly horrified to see so many. Where his citizens against him. He’d only be in charge for a few short weeks and made only a few public appearances, letting his uncle take the lead until he was of age, of course, the man did what Renfra told him but still he was a good face for the city.

“So many.”

“Never fear, my King. Fewer and fewer every week as they learn a harsh lesson, they are like children who need to know that they have a strict father who will neither tolerate any churlish behavior nor spare the rod,” he said.

Renfra took the young king by the shoulder and lead him away from the man in the cage. They walked to the smaller narrow doorway at the back of the room that was guarded by a single man. He was dressed in red, bald and had the same tattoos as Renfra, he bowed deeply to the king and Renfra and let them pass.

Down a narrow set of stone stairs. It was cold and close in there and Thellas felt his fear raising. Renfra gripped his shoulder hard and guided him on. They walked from the staircase to the dungeon. He was shocked and tried to hold onto his emotions as he took in the sight. There was a single person in the room. Tied to a large wooden cross, a young woman, not five years older than himself. She was lashed to the wooden arms of the large structure with rough leather ties, he could see where they had cut into her wrists and legs. She was a desert girl. He’d never seen one before, dark skin and long matted black hair, she raised her head slowly to look at him and he saw, she had a broken lip and signs of a beating.

Thellas was horrified. What could she have possibly done?

Renfra bent down and looked at him. “I know it’s hard but she is one of them, she must be taught.”

“She killed my father?”

“Her people call on the dead, they practice dark blood magic and they know of dark beasts from other lands.”

He stepped forward. “Is it true do you know of where these creatures come from, the ones with the sharp teeth and howls, the ones which ripped my father apart?” he asked.

She looked at him. “I know them, my father is a shaman of our people, he can call them but never would,” she said.

“Why not?” he asked.

“We fear them as much as you do,” she said.

“I’m not afraid. Can you call them as well?” he asked.

A flicker of fear passed her eyes. Renfra stepped back and reaching to a small table handed the young king a baton. It was a short rod covered in leather and metal studs.

“Ask her again,” he said.

Chapter Thirteen.

The cold found his exposed arms and made him shiver. His arm, which held Seraphina’s boat was aching and his hand felt weak. He’d been holding the wooden railing close for hours and hours. At first, they had talked but now they just sat in silence as their boats slowly floated on the soft lapping waves through the fog. To either side of him, he could see no more than an arm’s length and even making out her small face right next to him was difficult.

She was asleep with her head slumped down and long blonde hair covering her face. The truth was he felt slightly wrong attempting to travel with her. He felt a duty to keep her safe but he had an overwhelming feeling this was a personal journey for them both, in which neither would be welcome to follow along. He just hoped there would be a way for them to make it through on the other side together. Living people weren’t meant to make this journey and so he’d break more rules as well while he was at it.

Slowly the fog started to clear and Seth saw he was floating in a sea of boats. He looked to his left and saw something that shocked him. It was an unknown man, but he was wearing the uniform of Blackrock. Seth thought he had saved these from their deaths now as he looked he saw more and more. All the people he was meant to have stopped from killing each other were here. It was a sea of blood covered and tattered uniforms and outfits he knew well. Blackrock, Twin Plains. Cold Death mercenaries and some people with red painted faces. He didn’t know who they were but they had clearly got caught up in the slaughter. As he looked he saw their eyes were set straight ahead like his had been, as if willing themselves onwards.

He called out to the man. “Hey, Blackrock! Are you from Blackrock?”

The man seemed to snap out of a daze, turning his head slowly he looked over at Seth. Seth saw the man had a huge bloody gash down his face that had removed part of his eye, he shuddered. The man stared for a moment at him and then back ahead.

“Blackrock!” Seth yelled again. By this time, Seraphina had woken and was frightened. The flotilla of tiny boats pushed hard against theirs. All around were faces and people from the battle he’d failed to prevent.

The man looked back at Seth, dead eyes but he spoke. “Blackrock, why do I know that name”

“That’s where you’re from. Duchess Elizebetha’s Keep?” he said.

The man seemed to take in his words and then spoke slowly. “Yes, the Duchess Elizebetha, have you seen her? I need to protect her. My father guarded her father I think, it’s an honor for my family,” he rambled.

“Why would I have seen her?” Seth asked a pit of fear growing in her stomach.

The man looked at him blankly. “She’s dead, the king killed her and then he killed us. He killed us all.”

The boats were moving again and the man was thrust away from Seth. His boat was hit hard from the side smashing his hand in between the rails of his and Seraphina boat. Seth drew back his hand with a shout, Blood dripping from his fingers. Seraphina looked in horror as his hand came away from her boat. He reached out again but it was too late. Within seconds, the current had pulled her away. Seth rushed to the front of his boat, frantically trying to grab hers again. His last sight of her through the fog, her scared face was swept away into the growing white wall. As he saw her go he heard her cry, “Seth.” Then she was lost to the fog.