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Chapter Three
Ser Ephram Skye, Valion knight and Crimson Guard of the Duke of Loftcrag, stared at the six-foot tall and incredibly lean outline of the Black Dragon of the Silver Rose. Sheathed entirely in finely-tooled and polished black armor with bright silver banding and leaf placed in such a way as to highlight muscle and form, Ephram knew without any doubt the assassin's sex. The bulging black codpiece on his front left little to the imagination, and when the assassin turned sideways, it even ruined the symmetry of his body line. But stranger still, in all this time Ephram had never gazed upon the assassin's face...not even once...and he'd been working with him for six months.
The sword moans in battle. What but the most evil of weapons behaves like this? Would I know the horrid creature behind that mask or choose ignorance? Did I hear him call it Bloodbane? I'd bet platinum crowns that's the name of a demon. Do I have the courage to ask a sage? Do I want to know if I'm right?
Ephram tightened his jaw and rested the weight of his muscular shoulders on the war table around which the council gathered. Across from him, the druid Henna watched the proceedings with two large emerald eyes.
She is a solid choice for my company. If you are truly the chosen of the Great Forest Spirit, then even the cursed land of Zanda shall yield its secrets to you. At first, Ephram thought Henna's face too small for those orbs that somehow saw everything. But after a week at sea, he had grown to appreciate their beauty and luminescence. He recalled the meeting that took place a year ago in the past; it set into motion the events of the hour.
"You will select a host of warriors to accompany you to the shores of Zanda," Lady Carlina Mercurian had said to him. "I suggest you choose them well, for Zanda is an unforgiving place."
As disciple of Thomas, Carlina commanded the presence of any room in which she stood. Ephram had met her only once. Lovely and tall, Calina's silver hair fell like a waterfall almost to the floor, gold netting adorned with sapphires held it in place. She wore a deep blue robe highlighted in platinum thread and complete with lace sleeves the color of fresh snow. Around her neck hung the holy symbol of the god of war: a wolf howling at the moon. Everything about her filled his young body with lust.
"My lady," Ephram said, bowing at the waist. "Do you have any suggestions?"
"I do. An assassin called Hunter will meet you at the Salty Vixen Inn the day after tomorrow. It stands on the Imperial Highway about thirty leagues west of Bakora." She said this, even as she strode silently across the marble floor of the Great Basilica. Carlina came to a stop before a soaring cobalt flame that refused to burn those who held true faith in their hearts. Ephram joined her a moment later.
"An assassin? That seems a questionable choice." He reached into the flame and watched it play along his red ceremonial glove. Carlina didn't immediately answer him. When she did break the silence, she said, "The weasel Tethyr is helping us on this mission, and the thief he sends has skills you'll need. He'll be of low morals and upbringing...I imagine wickedness incarnate is his bread and butter. But, I spoke with his boss, Luminara, about this. She's commanded him to obey you utterly; I think he'll serve our interests well."
"I acquiesce to your wisdom, lady. Is there anyone else?" Ephram asked.
"Yes. There's a girl named Annie that needs to be taken away from here. `Whore' is too kind a word to describe her, so she's your charge now. She's guilty of trying to break into the Chamber of Souls where Thomas's body is interred. We got to her before she could see the flesh of our god, but this kind of crime has no precedent. Take her with you. She may be of some use. But on no circumstance is she to be allowed to return to Citadel Raven. I banish her on pain of death."
"Are her crimes so terrible? There are many women that would love to see the naked body of our god," Ephram said.
"There's something different about her," Lady Carlina said. "Something wicked lurks behind those eyes. Because the crime has no punishment, I really don't want to begin with an execution and establish a practice for this kind of thing. Banishment solves the problem without it getting `political.'"
"Your heart is kind," Ephram said.
"Wait at the Salty Vixen Inn for one week," Carlina told him. "I will send help to aid you in this quest." And that—as they say—was that. Just as Carlina had promised, Hunter waited for Ephram at the Salty Vixen Inn.
He remembered the day as one of the snowiest in a generation.
Stomping his boots free of white snow, he sauntered to the bar and asked for a pint of ale to whet his thirst. Then Ephram made his way to the back of the tavern to a table where his contact, Hunter, awaited him and watched the dinner crowd with his back to a wall.
At first, he didn't know what to think of the tall assassin. Because it was cold, Hunter wore a thick cloak made from a huge bear skin. But underneath that, the assassin wore this alien jet black armor that hugged the body so tight, Ephram thought it made of rubber. Remarkably detailed pauldrons on the suit gave Hunter a broad-shouldered silhouette. Beneath these, his chest dropped in a straight line finally tapering into a waist no more than 28-inches round. The silver piping and filigree around each individual muscle and descending to his Apollo's belt implied that Hunter possessed an over-the-top physique. The metal breastplate even had raised areas suggesting veins, two small bumps where the nipples lay, and a carved representation of the belly button. Only Ephram couldn't be sure that any of the things he saw were actual carvings because they flexed as the assassin breathed and looked more shredded as physical activity increased.
The extraordinary design of the assassin's boots looked molded to his feet, accounting even for his individual toes—long and skinny things wrapped in thin corobidian strips overlaid one atop another so that they could flex and move. They looked like they belonged to an elvish sprinter, with high arches, an ample ball and instep, and slender ankles. He'd seen armor worked on the finest forges in the land, but nothing prepared him for this. The suit looked forged by a god.
And the helmet just like the rest of Hunter's armor, took some getting used to. Because he never saw the assassin's face, Ephram got used to picking out details he saw in their day-to-day interaction. The helmet sat atop Hunter's willowy neck, and it was smaller than Ephram's because it fit tighter to the skull. The entire front from forehead to the end of his nose hid behind black glass so reflective, it acted as a mirror. This visor, in turn, fitted into a frame that accentuated the ridges that might be formed by cheek bones, nose, and brow ridge all done in smooth lines that blended with the hard outer shell seamlessly. The sides of the helmet showed raised bumps in the shape of Hunter's ears and bore a pair of grooved circles that Ephram felt might rotate if Hunter ever moved the visor out of place. The enclosed bottom flexed with Hunter's jawline so that when he spoke, Ephram could see it moving on a silent hinge while his voice popped out through a black and silver vent over where his mouth must be.
Over the course of a week, the Valion knight assembled a host of talented men and women to assist in the quest until they numbered thirty. However, none unsettled him like Hunter did. At present, their company numbered nine men and six women and all those in this pavilion had been chosen by Ephram because of their talent to fight and to survive.
A crack of thunder mirrored the pop of wood from the stove. It brought Ephram back from his thoughts and into this place where heat huddled against the bitter cold outside.
"Accursed country," Ephram muttered.
Fiver shook his furry head, and his rabbit's ears wobbled. "I've been up and down the wall, captain. Hunter's right. There's no way in. Not any that doesn't take us within grasp of the hell birds."
"You got anything to add?" Tomoluk the minotaur asked, pointing at the assassin in black. When Tomoluk stood, he so dwarfed the hare-foot ranger that in Ephram's eyes, Fiver looked like a baby. The question, however, had been aimed at Hunter alone.
"No," a voice replied from behind the assassin's mask. It sounded distorted, as if slightly out of tune.
Tomoluk stretched his legs, hefting the magical double-bladed war axe in his mighty fist. "Do you ever say more than one word?"
The assassin shook his head. "Only when it's needed."
"Well it's fuckin' needed," Tomoluk said, placing the bulk of his five hundred pounds on the sturdy table. Even with its oak legs, it started to buckle just a bit. "You know how to fight, I'll give you that whoever you are. No one sees you comin' and goin' from camp to even take a shit, so your one stealthy bugger. If the highlights on your armor are any indication, you're bloody cut like a swimmer. But I never seen your face. I never seen you bleed. Hell, I don't know if you can bleed. But I don't trust a man that never shows his eyes."
"I don't need you to trust me, cow," Hunter said.
"You've got a death wish don't ya?" Tomoluk growled.
"Settle down," Fiver said. "There's no need to get testy here. We're all on the same team."
"And what team is that?" Akagi asked, entering through the tent flap. He carried a tray of hot drinks. He wore oyoroi armour and his kanabo, or iron club, hung loosely across his back. Akagi's long black hair blew in the wintry wind. Outside in the encampment, men prepared for the storm by getting the horses in the shelter of the forested cliffs.
Akagi dispensed the drinks. Ephram watched Hunter carefully.
To his surprise, the assassin reached forward and took hold of the cup in his long-fingered and dexterous-looking hands. Thieves hands, Ephram thought. Good at picking locks and poisoning darts. Only time would tell if his guess was correct, because Hunter's skills had yet to be tested.
Am I going to finally see who lives behind that mask? Ephram thought. What color is his skin?
Hunter raised the cup to the weird helmet, and the whole room fell silent.
The grill where the assassin's mouth should lie suddenly slid open by a smidge, revealing only indistinct shadow beyond. Then Hunter took a drink, letting the liquid flow slowly through the small crack and...assumedly...into his throat. Steam vented through side gills on the helmet. It was the strangest thing Ephram had ever seen, which is saying a lot because they camped in the Forest of the Silence only a hundred miles from the Well of Zanda.
After a few swallows, the assassin set the cup down. Then the grill closed. A moment later he said, "thank you," once more in that now familiar out-of-tune voice.
"You give me the creeps," Tomoluk said. "How can we possibly succeed when we've got this demon with us? He has no scent at all, just leather and metal. I don't trust him."
"He killed a Cataclysm Slayer of Zanda all by himself," Fiver said. "That thing killed nine of our party."
Tomoluk ignored Fiver. "Are you hideous under there? Are you so ugly you have to hide yourself from the light of day?"
"No," Hunter said, angling his head in such a way that Ephram was sure that Hunter stared directly at the minotaur.
If looks could kill...
"No to what?" Tomoluk asked.
"Does it matter?" Hunter replied.
"Come on," Tomoluk said. "Give us a peek. You gotta be sweating buckets in that thing." He reached over the table to grab Hunter by the dome of his bespoke helmet when the assassin vanished.
"He's behind you," Henna said.
Tomoluk whirled and stood his full height of eight feet, kicking his chair to one side of the tent.
"That's enough!" Ephram yelled. "We're having a council of war."
Hunter shrugged his shoulders helplessly and held up his hands as if to say "I didn't start it." Tomoluk roared and swung a mighty fist at the assassin, but Hunter ducked the first and then sidestepped the second. Ephram caught the third swing on the cuff of his full plate armor and the blow rang out in the encampment as if someone had just struck a gong.
That's going to smart for a while, Ephram thought, but managed to clench his teeth through the pain that now shot through his arm.
"Stop it," Ephram said. "Get your chair and sit down."
Hunter flickered and then reappeared in the spot where he stood before. The teleportation happened instantaneously, without production or glamour of any kind. It simply looked to Ephram that he blinked and in that micro-second the assassin somehow changed places. When his eyes found him again, Hunter stood with the posture of a statue in thought, gauntleted forefinger and thumb spread to either side of a helmeted chin and the other arm crossed over his chest. The hilt of the evil sword "Bloodbane" dangled just beyond the curve of Hunter's metal-clad bubble butt. The assassin had such a pronounced thigh gap that Ephram could clearly see everything behind him.
Does he eat anything? Ephram looked at the empty mug that Akagi handed him earlier. I suppose he does.
Akagi took a seat as the wind picked up outside and shook the walls of the pavilion around them. "This night's going to be awful." He reached into a pile of wood and tossed a log or two into the stove, sending sparks up the metal pipe which glowed red with heat. Outside the pavilion, men called out for others to come help them drag a stag into camp so it could be butchered for meat.
"Everyone have a seat," Ephram said, and then paused to point at Hunter's chest. "And don't start anything."
The assassin cocked his head, unfolded his arms, and extended a long middle finger in Ephram's face. Then he somewhat angrily back-kicked his chair into the tent wall.
Akagi took out a dagger to clean his fingernails. "Let's not throw any tantrums, shall we? We forgot to pack our nursemaids with us on this trip."
Hunter flipped him off too.
"I'd take that far more seriously if I could see your face and knew you weren't some kid behind that opaque obsidian glass," Akagi said.
"We don't need him," Tomoluk said to Ephram. "He killed a Cataclysm Slayer by himself? So what? I almost had it down. We just got surprised is all."
"Surprised?" Henna asked. "Surprised...or there's a traitor in our camp. No one should have seen us land on the beach. We're ten miles outside the Bone Wall. Zandan's don't patrol out here. Why should they? With the protection of the wall and its birds, they're nigh impregnable."
"There are ships," Tomoluk said. "Vessels from Noremost carrying goods to the Keep of Anghul and the legion of Timeron knight stationed there. A vessel could have spotted us."
"Unlikely," the druid woman said. "There's a reason you brought me along. I kept the megalodon's at bay with a powerful spell granted by the Great Forest Spirit. But those creatures would have sunk any ship that dared come within fifty miles of the shore. They're intelligent, and under the control of the Israfil of Zanda."
"What are megalodons exactly?" Akagi asked. "I'm a great warrior and rarely venture to the sea, so pardon my ignorance."
"Giant sharks," Ephram said, "eighty feet long. They would have torn our vessel to pieces."
"I suppose I feel better that you scuttled it then," Akagi replied. "Now that I know that, I assure you there's no way I'm getting in any ship sailing away from this god-forsaken shithole."
"My magic kept them at bay," Henna repeated, eyes narrowing dangerously.
"So you said, druidess. But I'm a man that makes his way in the world by skill and not by magic," Akagi replied.
"Is that why you wield a kanabo...the magical club of an oni?" Fiver asked.
"Ahh, you recognized this," Akagi said, unslinging the iron club from his back. He looked at it with wonder. "This kanabo is famous. I took it from the chieftain of a clan of winter onibaba. I think his name was Arashi."
"Clubs are slow weapons. I prefer an axe," Tomoluk said, sitting down in his chair.
"Not this one," Akagi boasted. "I could kill everyone in this room before the axe in your hand struck the ground. There's magic in this club, and it has the power of the Divine Wind."
"Well then," Tomoluk said. "It's official. None of us are needed except Akagi here. Why don't we start by getting rid of that one?" the minotaur asked, gesturing once more at Hunter. "He just got lucky with the Cataclysm Slayer."
Fiver laughed. "Is that what you want to call it? I'd also like to remind you that he's the only one that's walked the entire length of the wall. He knows how close you can get to it without waking the necro-terror linnorms, and –"
"And what?" Tomoluk interrupted. "He can fly us all over and make us invisible and rub our backs when we get tired?"
Hunter crossed his arms in front of his chest, and his body language projected hostility into the air.
"What?"
"We're not alone," Hunter said, distorted voice managing to be an octave lower and spiced with a hint of anger.
Ephram looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"I found evidence that there are two Timeron knights on this side of the wall as well," Hunter answered.
"Won't your buddies be angry you gave them away?" Tomoluk asked.
"Put a sock in it," Hunter replied. "Timerons are no friends of mine."
"How far from here?" Ephram asked.
"About fifty leagues to the southwest. I spotted them, but they didn't see me. They emerged from the wall...it just parted before them, bones rearranging themselves much the same as butter melts before a hot knife. They came through with two shadow demon servants, and they rode nightmares."
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Ephram asked. "When you first got here?"
The front of Hunter's helmet oriented on Ephram. "I-I came directly to the tent, and then the cow started picking a fight with me," Hunter said. "I've only been back for a few minutes."
"Wait, you traveled fifty leagues since last night?" Akagi asked. "How the fuck did you do that?"
"Cyrayalayeth," Hunter replied.
"Is that supposed to mean something?" Akagi asked. "I don't speak demon, unless I'm taking a shit. My ass is the thing that speaks fluent demon."
"It's his noble lion," Henna said, rolling her eyes. "The one he kept in the hold of the ship that was separate from the other animals. The great black beast that consumed all the meat he packed before the journey here."
"I was wondering what all that growling was," Akagi said. "Are you telling me, that the beast can go fifty leagues in a day?"
"It could run 500 leagues in a day," Henna said. "Noble animals are powerful creatures. They are pets of the gods and are considered guardians of the forest."
"How the fuck did he get one then?" Tomoluk asked.
"Because...you arsehole...I'm the disciple of a god," Hunter said.
Tomoluk growled and Hunter balled his fists.
"I told you not to start anything," Ephram said, placing a hand firmly on Hunter's chest.
"Remove your hand from my killsuit," Hunter said, turning his head toward Ephram.
"What?"
"My armor? It's called a killsuit. Remove your hand from it or you'll pull back a stump," Hunter stated.
"Is that a threat?" Ephram asked.
Hunter swelled his chest and stood his full height. The move was not without menace. Ephram cautiously withdrew his hand and said, "I meant no offense" keeping one eye on the evil sword that the slender assassin employed in combat. After a brief pause and an easing of tensions in the room, he asked, "Did you see anything else?"
Hunter shook his head no.
"Fifty leagues is a lot of ground between us and them," Ephram said, "but we should be cautious. They might have the ability to travel just as fast as Hunter here. We should post a double watch tonight and sleep in our armor. Timeron knights are notoriously difficult to kill."
"Not for me," Tomoluk said. "I killed six in a bar brawl once."
"And I killed a dozen when I saved a damsel in distress who screamed for my help in the cherry blossom orchards of Mount Clymarind," Akagi declared, somewhat wistfully. "Who hasn't killed Timeron knights at this table?"
Ephram chuckled. They are such liars.
"I've never killed any," Fiver said.
"Nor have I," the druid Henna said. "And I doubt you have either."
"Me?" Akagi asked.
"The both of you," she replied.
Tomoluk bristled but said only, "I've no reason to prove myself to an elven bitch."
"And your words wound me, Henna. To call me a liar stings so much. I thought we had something special," Akagi said, replacing his kanabo in the holster between his shoulder blades.
Ephram rolled out a map showing the territory of the country of Zanda. He placed metal paperweights on the corners to keep it from moving. "The Bone Wall runs all up and down the coast, beginning at this point on the northernmost reaches of the peninsula of Mythgol and ending at this mountain range in the south. That's over 150 leagues. It's a thousand feet tall over its entire length; there are no gates or roads that go through the Bone Wall."
"Apparently there are," Akagi said. "If the jackknife in black is to be believed."
"I said the bones parted before them," Hunter stated tone flat. "I didn't say I saw a gate."
"Who built the wall?" Fiver asked. "There's no way this was the work of mortal men."
"Necromancers," Ephram said. "The city of Zanda has a magic school where female children who demonstrate a gift for raising the dead are taught the forbidden art of necromancy. Most other civilized countries got rid of their necromancers for the evil, vile creatures they are. Zanda, however, always embraced them."
"It's not just necromancers that are vile. All evil creatures are scum of the earth...," Tomoluk said, then nodded at Hunter. "No offense to the afterbirth there."
Hunter tightened his fists and the scrape of corobidian on corobidian echoed from the walls. "I've just about had enough of you," he said, voice low and steady.
"I'm not afraid," Tomoluk said. "Bring it, and I'll ram this axe up your arse and gore you with my horns."
"Tomoluk!" Fiver yelled. "Shut up! This has gone on long enough. Hunter's on our side. Let's keep it that way."
The minotaur looked at the rabbit ranger. The intimidating furry fella dressed in leather armor and wore the cloak of the Order of Rhya, the woodland goddess. The bunny tightened his furry fist around the middle of his legendary bow, the whole of it chased up and down in golden spidery script.
"I mean it," Fiver said. "You insult him again, and I'll run you through with a cibrian arrow."
"Gentlemen," Ephram said, "We have to find a way through the wall."
"There isn't one," Akagi said. "You brought us here for nothing."
"I-I heard something," Hunter said. "A bit of conversation between the two Timeron knights. It might be nothing. They said, `Gravilorell odit lucem solis' after they emerged from the bone wall. Then their shadow demons fled. I worried they might spot me so I left as well."
"I thought you didn't notice anything else," Tomoluk said. "That seems pretty fuckin' significant."
"Not if anyone can't understand it," Hunter replied. "I bloody can't. And for the record I said I didn't see anything else."
"Is it a spell?" Ephram asked. "Perhaps some kind of magical password to make the Bone Wall move out of the way for them."
Henna shook her head no. "You're certain they said, `Odit lucem solis?'" Hunter nodded yes.
"It means `hates sunlight.' Gravilorell is a famous necro-terror linnorm killed in an ancient battle at the gates of a mythical dwarven city. I think it was called Thorabad-Hai, but my mind is a bit foggy on the details. I think this means that the guardians of the wall...the necro-terror linnorms...hate sunlight."
"Great," Akagi said, "And where do we find sunlight in this god-forsaken country?"
"These storms are bound to clear off at some point. If they do, we need to be ready to move," the druid replied.
"Move where?" Tomoluk asked.
"To the wall," Ephram stated, gesturing wildly to the west. "When the suns shines, we climb."
"That's over a thousand fuckin' feet," Fiver said. "I can't climb that."
"Then you stay behind, rabbit," Akagi said.
"I'm not staying behind," Fiver declared. "I'll figure out a way. But we'll be sitting ducks on that wall. Sooner or later, the hell birds will come calling, and if we get dislodged from the wall...well that's it then."
"And we'll need to climb it before the suns disappear. It's winter, boys, and the Mythgol peninsula is not known for its long, sun-drenched days," Henna said.
Ephram nodded. "Get some sleep, everyone. Hunter, tomorrow you'll lead us to the wall. I want you to pick out a place where the gap between the forest and the wall isn't so wide. We need to take advantage of the cover provided by these woods for as long as possible. Tell the men, no fires tonight unless they use the stoves in their tents. We've got to keep the risk of being spotted to a minimum. All entrances to the pavilions need to be covered with an extra bearskin."
The council got up and started to file out the tent flap. Hunter flickered and vanished. Akagi stayed behind, still cleaning his nails with a dagger.
"You taking that girl...Annie...to bed with you tonight?" Akagi asked.
"I might," Ephram said. "What's it to you?" the Valion knight asked.
"She obviously agrees with you. I thought she might make me into half the man that you are, Eph. Come now, what kind of leader doesn't share a few scraps from his table?"
Ephram cracked a smile. "I'd share, but she doesn't like your kind."
"Tall, dark, and handsome?" Akagi asked.
"She's obsessed with Thomas," Ephram answered, toying with the hilt of his sword.
"Your god? That seems an odd thing to be obsessed with," Akagi responded.
"Why? Most women are obsessed with us. We are the greatest physical specimens of our kind that walk the earth, are we not?" Ephram asked, taking a seat. A smug smile on his lips, he placed his size 12 boots on the table with a thud and folded one leg over the other, sitting back, absorbing the heat from the stove. As if to emphasize his masculinity, he flexed his biceps in turn, fingers interlaced and resting against the back of his head.
"I hear the Timeron knights say the same thing," Akagi replied.
"They'd be liars," Ephram said. "Annie...she's a good lay. She's gone the rounds with my brotherhood, but when she heard I was coming here, she asked to be reassigned. Every night after I fuck her, I read to her from The Book of Thomas. It's like she salivates for the details. She's willing to do anything?"
"Anything?" Akagi asked. "She lets you fuck her in the arsehole?"
Ephram smiled and that was all the answer Akagi needed. "She's kinky too. She wants me to fuck her in my full armor with even my helmet on. She says it makes her think Thomas is ravaging her."
"You'll end up getting her pregnant," Akagi said.
"Not likely. Groupies like her have ways to keep a seed from implanting in the womb," Ephram said.
As if on cue, the tent flap parted and a girl of sixteen entered. She had brown skin and almond-shaped eyes, one purple and the other green. Her flaming red hair cascaded down the back of her plain brown robe. The girl didn't even glance at Akagi and went straight to Ephram's side.
She gathered the handsome knight's gauntleted fingers in her hands and knelt before him. Slowly, she lifted one to her lips and started sucking on it. "I heard your meeting was over, my love," she said. Then she ran her tongue along the outside of Ephram's armored glove. "Please, can you tell me about Thomas' resting place one more time? I can't get enough of it; of the way you describe...him."
Ephram cracked a lascivious smile and stared at Akagi. "Some privacy please?"
"But of course, captain," Akagi said, hopping out of his chair and exiting the tent.
"How about you show me why you're worthy of another telling?" Ephram asked, parting the girl's robe to gaze upon her sweaty breasts.
Annie took the hint and lowered her head over his codpiece to begin earning her keep for the night.
The next part is available on my website at http://slckismet.blogspot.com/p/discussion-board-for.html under the label "Chapter Two" if you care to read ahead.