Take My Heart...: Dark Ages - Fantasy (Dark Gods & Tainted Souls Book 3) (9 page)

Chapter Nineteen.

Seth walked from the now deserted decks of
The Opulent.
The huge ship was resting against a small pier clearly not built for such a massive vessel. He knew it well and had spent much time here as a boy, it was near his hometown of Bloodcrest. Checking his weapons one more time, Seth took a deep breath in of the familiar cold air of home and walked down the wooden plank to the dock.

It was a typical northern day like he’d not seen in such a very long time. His voyage from here to the land of the dead had only been something like a year but he was not the same simple boy who had left. He’d been filled with so many simple dreams and hopes to do his Volk proud and show the northern skill in the city guard, now look at him. He had no idea if they would be proud of him or throw rotten food like he was a criminal in the stocks. Still this was clearly not his home, it looked and smelled the same but again it seemed false, like painted props and stagecraft.

As Seth walked up the small pier he saw two men appear from the fog. They were dressed in the house colors of Bloodcrest and carried typical broadswords across their backs. They were massive weapons, useless for fighting in a group, best for the lone fighter against many. Very typically northern.

One of the men stepped forward. Seth recognized his face, as one of the hundreds of men he’d trained with during his two years at Bloodcrest.

“The duke would see you boy, you’re not meant to be here,” the man said simply.

He stood behind Seth and shoved him roughly in the back, the other drew his blade and they pointed Seth towards the Keep. He could fight them but what was the point, they were already dead, but he wasn’t.

Seth walked through the township and was shocked by how small it all was. Bloodcrest, once the big city in his mind now just a tiny collection of muddy streets and ill made trading stalls off rotting and unpainted wood. The whole town would fit inside the Pellota spice district. As Seth walked he looked to the side. Some stalls were filled with people and others empty. One was a weapons trader Seth remembered buying his first sword from. A very dented and nicked thing over a hundred years old if it was a day and not in a good way. It had cost him all his father had given him. He couldn’t come before the duke with the carved wooden thing he’d practiced with.

Seth stepped forward the trader and the man smiled at him shaking his hand, he was a flat faced man, fat and jovial, born to be a trader.

“Well met young Seth, how’s your father,” he said.

“Not here I hope,” Seth said back, feeling the cold of the man’s hand, he had a large stab wound in his chest. His shirt was ripped showing the gaping and bloodless wound.

The man looked down at it. “I know, fucking thieves, well anyway I’ve got something for you.”

The man walked from the counter and opening a long chest pulled out a long heavy broadsword placed on the counter before him. It was a fine weapon, sharp and well made, with the Bloodcrest symbol etched in the hilt.

“I’ll trade you for your Pellosi toothpicks, you will be laughed at if you carry those noble weapons around here,” he said.

Seth looked at the sword and could tell it was worth a lot more than his current ones. They could be noble’s weapons but this had the look of a king’s sword, the man also spoke truly. Seth pulled free his rapier and dagger and gave them to the man. He undid his belt and passed him the hilts as well. Seth strapped the large blade across his back and the once familiar weight of one felt good.

The trader smiled. “A good price?” he asked.

“A little too good for me I feel,” he said back.

“Well I have some shit to make up for it seems, now off you go, don’t keep the duke waiting.”

Seth was shoved again by the guards and kept moving. Soon they were at the large wooden gates of the Keep. There was only a handful of guards and the people in the town were even fewer. Seth had no idea how this worked, did people come here once they died just to keep living out their same old boring lives in death? It seemed fairly bleak.

He was shoved once again inside the Keep. Seth walked towards where he knew the duke would be. The main room held a huge fireplace and table. Many men would sit around it. Thains and Carls of the duke. To have a seat at that table was a thing of pride. Once again the room seemed small. He saw the duke as he approached. The man still looked fearsome. He was Northern through and through. Furs against the cold, strong bear arms and a simple metal circlet on his head. The man smiled as Seth entered.

Seth walked calmly in front of him and bowed, this was the man who had trained him and given him a purpose.

“Well met, my lord, good to see you, in a way,” Seth said.

“True enough boy, surely good to see a friendly face and less good to know I’m dead, but I died well, fighting which is good for a duke, quite hard to achieve these days,” he said with a laugh.

“I’ve only been gone a year,” Seth said.

“A lot happens in a year as you well know,” he said, then shaking his head, he stepped down and took Seth’s shoulder.

“You have fucked everything up boy, one you’re alive and here which is wrong, second you have broken many of our codes and then exceeded some others beyond belief. There are things interested in you that have no right speaking on such matters as Northern deaths. I’m here to prepare you. If you’re are truly the Druheim then all is forgiven, a soldier of fate has no choice in the path he’s guide to, however if you’re just a misguided idiot we’ve got a problem.”

Seth was filled with fear but pushed it down, he had no idea what he was but he would face this the same way he’d faced everything else, by running headlong into it and hope for the best.

The duke smiled as if knowing his thoughts.

“Now come boy, we must begin to prepare you, and we don’t have long,” he said.

“Prepare me for what?” Seth asked, knowing all too well.

“The trials son, the trials.”

Chapter Twenty.

They had ridden slowly for hours behind their hired killers. Renfra had never seen a less motivated group of men in his life. They walked so slowly that they were passed on the road by trading caravans and farmers driving fat cattle set for sale at the markets. He knew they wouldn’t work out. If only the idiot boy king realized how long it took to find the right people then he would understand he couldn’t rely on these men.

Renfra sat in a small tent, on the floor stood a piece of black leather etched with symbols, he sat cross-legged within. The twenty or so men who rode with him all wore the red and were loyal. He was happy with them at least, the ranks of the order had never been so plentiful. The blessing of the king had its benefits. It was easy to find them now. The husband whose wife had run away from his beatings to the protection of the sisters of the divine child. The wife who lost her child to hunger after giving her last gold to a wandering priest of some made up god or another and, of course, the boys who’s fathers had been destroyed by dark magic.

He remembered that night in the study well. Thellas senior, a weak man, had argued against him that night. Told him that his order was no longer welcome in the Keep, at first, he’d needed their knowledge and skills, they were nothing if not good at organizing a kingdom, rules, codes of morality and most importantly knowing the kinds of secrets to keep the other nobles in line, but once he was done with them he drew away from the order. He knew of the Dark Guild, the Gatherers and ignored their crimes. Renfra had come back that night when the king was alone.

A clay mug of drugged tea in his hand he offered it to the king and told him they would leave. He’d grown close to the boy king and saw the fear in him he could use if pushed in the right way. The king toasted his journey and drank the brew down, within a moment he slept lightly. Renfra said the words and created the circle. He knew the lore as they had collected and burned much more knowledge than that, but not before he’d read it all. When he saw those black beasts he knew they were his lord’s own creatures. Who else could create such beings of pure rage and hate? It was the same way he created people now. Take the weak, broken, abused and hurt, give them more pain and suffering than they can withstand and point them in the right direction.

The black dogs bounded from the rift and ripped the sleeping king apart. He woke from his light slumber and screamed and screamed as his life was torn away by dark beasts with sharp teeth. Of course Renfra was the first to be there and comfort the young king, that had been the plan all along.

Now the young king was proving to be as stupid and stubborn as his father. He was a much darker creature but he was a still a fool and that was worse.

As Renfra sat on the black leather that was cut with the symbols of his lord, he open his mind and let it in. The feeling of fear crawled through him and he shuddered. His lord was with him, the imprisoned one.

“Tell me your bidding,” Renfra said.

In his minds he saw the visions, the desert people trying to escape, the sisters disappeared and the gamblers actually rising against them. He felt the strength of his lord in him and he stood up straight and filled with strength. His years weighted less on him, his lord needed him to be strong for this and thus he was.

***

Minsetta was an interesting lady, she talked almost non-stop now they had miles and days to go before they got to the temple, also, she didn’t seem to need sleep which kept her riding well after Josette would have called it in for the night. They trotted slowly down the road in the moonlight and she listened as Minsetta spoke and spoke on.

“When was the last time you were with a man?” she asked, it snapped Josette’s attention back, she was letting her mind wander.

She thought about it.

“I kissed a boy once when I was about eleven and felt his cock inside his pant touch my leg,” she said.

Minsetta laughed. “But you were a pleasure slave right?” she said.

“Sex is between two people who want it, and that is the only time, oh and Seth kissing me that was nice,” she said.

“Where did he kiss you?” Minsetta asked.

“At the Keep after we won the battle,” she said quickly.

Minsetta laughed again. “I meant where on your body, but I guess that answers the question.”

Josette flushed as red as her hair. That act wasn’t a big part of her life, none of the men paying for her body cared much about her pleasure. Some of the girls in the various places she worked took enjoyment from the job, they loved sex and the power it gave them over men, but she never saw it as power. What power was there in someone wanting to fuck you. Most men she knew would have sex with anything with a heartbeat.

Minsetta stopped laughing. “So they’ve robbed you of taking pleasure now, made it something that was done to you.”

“Oh no. I quite enjoy killing people, probably a fair bit more than I should,” she said back, admitting it to herself. She did like killing people, especially men who were bigger and stronger than her and looked like they enjoyed hurting women. The feeling of the warm blood running down her hands, as her dagger slipped into their unwilling bodies.

Minsetta smiled sadly at her. “Well now’s your chance. I can hear some people coming up from the road behind us and given we are two women alone I’d say it’ll end badly.”

Minsetta stopped her horse and slowly dismounted, she went to the side of her and drew out her long thin sword. Josette did the same but drew her bow.

“How many?” she asked.

“Four, I think,” Minsetta said.

Josette laughed and put her bow away and pulled out her dagger, give them a chance she thought.

A horse came racing around the roadway and seeing them standing in the middle of the road, reared violently and threw its rider. It was a young boy in the attire of a king’s courier. He fell from his horse hard and landed with his arms out in front of him. Josette heard the painful crack and his cry of surprise and sudden pain. She ran to him and saw his arm was clearly broken, the bone pushing through his broken skin, the boy cried in pain, tears running down his young face, he looked like Micker’s younger brother, some farmer boy caught up in a war.

“Sorry,” she said.

From the darkness behind them the others came, his guards. They were dressed in the uniforms of the king and were clearly protecting this boy as he traveled with some message, strapped to his horse were the leather satchels of his trade, embossed with the king’s logo, so people would get out of the way.

The men pulled to a hard stop and looked at them, one drew a bow from his back and drawing the string pointed at arrow at her, knelt over the boy.

“What the fuck is all this? The leader said.

He was a tall skinny man with a mustache. He stepped off his horse and coming to the boy, pulled him roughly to his feet.

Minsetta stepped forward and Josette saw how the man took in the way she looked and lowered their weapons.

“We’re terribly sorry, we heard the hoof beats and tried to get out of the way, seems we weren’t fast enough,” she said.

The man looked at the boy. “Can you ride?” He looked barely able to stand and wavered on his feet from the pain and shock. The boy nodded weakly.

“Just get out of the way, we have an important message from the king,” he said.

Josette looked back at Minsetta who just nodded at her. Slipping her blade from behind her back she grabbed the lead man and thrust it into him hard. The sharp knife slide in through the soft fabric of his uniform and he grunted in pain, that was why people should wear armor she thought. The man dropped to the dusty road, blood blossoming on his shirt on a growing circle, red on red.

She stepped over him and grabbing the bowman from the saddle pulled him down by his uniform, as he fell sideways from his horse she cut his throat with a quick flick of her blade, his blood spraying out in an arc. The other tried to ride past, but Minsetta tossed her sword like a lance. It flew hard and pierced his back and through his heart. The horse stopped as he sagged in the saddle hunched over.

Josette stood breathing deeply, looking at the boy who was shocked and terrified. She looked at him, pointed to the side of the road. “Run, idiot!”

The boy needed no second invitation and took off towards the sparse tree line, holding his damaged arm. Minsetta walked past her, stepping over the bodies and reached into the boy’s saddle bag. She drew out two white paper scrolls with red wax, still intact.

“You read, right?” she said tossing one to Josette.

Josette read hers but it was a dull thing, about tax collection and the state of the treasury.

“Mine’s boring, yours?” she said.

“Seems our king has a big force waiting for the Reds right near Twin Plains, they intend to kill them once they set foot in the area,” she said.

“Really who can you trust these days?” Josette said.

Josette looked at the men she had killed and truly she had felt excitement, she was glad for the excuse to kill someone, to prove herself again and take some vengeance. It wasn’t good. With Dagosh and Elizebetha gone she could go as far as she wanted down this dark path and no one would stop her, she had to try herself, if she wanted to.

Minsetta reached down to the lead man on the ground and kneeling next to him exposed his neck. With fine fingers she pulled his head back, ready to drink.

Josette spoke. “Don’t do that, you can have some of mine, it’s better, right?”

Minsetta stood back up, she walked to her and leaning in close she pressed her lips against her neck. Josette felt a shiver run through her. She grimaced against the pain as the teeth sunk into her blood and her blood flowed into Minsetta’s mouth. Only a little and she was done. She cut her own fingers and smeared some dark blood on the wound, it knit together in moments.

Josette looked at the woman, she was attractive and women had always been more welcome lovers for her than men. She’d been with a few at the pleasure house when some old man wanted a thrill but was thankful past the point of doing anything but watch.

She remembered something as she looked at her. “Once you said you’d want to ask me something and I was to think about it before I said no,” Josette said.

Minsetta laughed. “Oh that, we can forget that now”

“What was it? You’ve changed your mind?” She asked.

“I was going to ask you to be my apprentice, but now I know you think I would settle for partners.”

Josette liked it that this woman thought of her as an equal. She reached out and gripped her hand in a warrior clasp. “Sounds like fun.”