The Old Ways

5

Hunger had grown a constant to her, a sensation now as meaningless as the feel of wind across her skin, or the pain that flared from every inch of her body. Valessa used it to propel her onward. She longed for the comfort of sleep, for a respite from the pain and guilt. But it would not come, so onward she followed the red star. It led her through plains, farmlands, and at last to a forest whose name she did not know. The sun and moon rose and fell, their light and darkness just as meaningless to her as bread or water.

The thick branches and leaves proved problematic at first, for they blocked the light of the star. But she found that when she stopped to focus, to demand its crimson light, it could pierce even the forest canopy.

“Praise be, Karak,” she whispered. “Praise be.”

She ran, at first weaving through the trees on nothing more than instinct. When she realized how pointless that was, she might have laughed, but even laughter caught in her throat. Her body was meant for slaughter and pain, not humor. Not pleasure. Penance.

Her path lost its weave, and she plunged through the trees, feeling the trunks and low branches pass through her. She was smoke, shadow, an incorporeal being. Her speed increased, distant wolves howled, and the red star shone on. Its light was so bright, she knew Darius had to be close. His presence burned in her mind like a beacon. Her hands clutched her daggers, and with near ecstasy, she imagined plunging them into his throat. The sensation of pleasure overwhelmed her. She hadn’t realized something like that had been left to her, but it seemed she was wrong. She could still feel joy. She could still know Karak’s love. All by repenting for her error. All by slaughtering Darius the traitor.

In the distance, she saw a camp, and she slowed her run. It had to be Kaide’s, she realized. Who else would have a miniature village lost in the woods? It certainly explained Sebastian’s difficulty in finding him. Had Darius taken shelter with them?

Up ahead, she saw two figures, a man and a woman. Valessa slowed even more, and she let her presence fade away. Gone were her clothes, her pale flesh, replaced only with darkness. Unseen, she crept up on the couple. The way the red star flared, she’d hoped it was Darius, but it was not. Her disappointment did not last long. She recognized that red hair, that enormous shield strapped to the man’s back.

“Jerico,” she whispered, the word curling off her tongue like a purr. The paladin of Ashhur was equally as responsible for her failure as Darius, all because of his meddling, and that damn shield of his. He spoke with a silver-haired woman, who looked upset but was hiding it well. Valessa glanced to the sky, saw that the red star beckoned further, but she could not deny herself such an opportunity. How might Karak bless her for defeating such a terrible foe? How much joy would soar through her shadowy soul when her daggers tore the life from his veins?

She looked to the nearby camp, then smiled, a plan already forming…

J erico watched until Darius was gone, and then shook his head. Darius was right; Sebastian was trouble. But Darius was young in faith, and it’d been mere weeks since he’d been in the prophet’s thrall. To separate now felt risky, but in the end, he had to hold faith in Ashhur. It was the right thing to do, letting him go. So was this.

He gathered his things, pulled his shield across his back, and waved goodbye to the camp.

Kaide had threatened to send men after Darius if Jerico did not stay. Good luck, he thought. Any fool that went after Darius now deserved the beating they received. But he could not stay. They’d betrayed his trust, and no matter how important Kaide claimed he was, that importance was not enough for them to take Darius under their protection.

Barely beyond the light of the camp’s torches, Jerico heard Sandra call his name. He turned, steeling himself against any guilt.

“Jerico, wait,” she said, hurrying after.

“What is it?” he asked. “Are you here to apologize for your brother again?”

Sandra shook her head, and he realized she carried a small bundle against her stomach.

“You didn’t know, did you?” he asked.

“I’d have stopped him if I did,” she said. She looked back to the camp, and he could see the sadness in her eyes, and the way her lips quivered. “I’ve been at his side for years now. Always the older brother, the one who would save our family. But I don’t know who that man is, not anymore. I once told you I thought he knew nothing but revenge. Tonight proved that.”

Jerico stopped, and he put his hands on her shoulders.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “He’s your family, and they’re your friends. I understand their desperation, as much as I might loathe their actions. Don’t risk whatever happiness you know just for my sake.”

She shook her head.

“Our town is gone. My parents are dead. Whatever happiness I knew, it died that winter. Kaide’s just kept that pain fresh. We gave him his battle, and I saw the dead and the dying. It did nothing, only fed the beast that’s taken over my brother.”

She brushed her hair away from her face and behind her left ear.

“Let me come with you,” she said. “I don’t care where. Just let me follow you until I can find a new home, free of all these memories.”

She stepped closer, and Jerico felt his throat tighten.

“Shouldn’t you say goodbye?” he asked her.

“He’d never take it well.”

Jerico sighed. He knew his path was dangerous, and he had no intention of giving up the fight against Lord Sebastian.

“All right,” he said. “But we need to hurry, and put as much ground between us and here by morning. Because you’re right…there’s not a chance Kaide understands.”

She smiled, and he accepted her embrace. As his arms wrapped about her, he saw a figure walking toward them from the camp. He tensed. Sandra sensed it and turned. The figure grew closer.

“Shit,” said Sandra. “It’s my brother.”

“So much for a romantic flight through the dark forest.”

She punched his chestplate, then pulled free of his arms.

“Let me talk to him,” she said, approaching Kaide. The moonlight fell across his features, and seeing them, he clearly did not look happy.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Don’t be upset,” Sandra said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m allowed to make my own choices. You’re not our father.”

He never slowed. Never stopped. His hand dipped to his belt, then thrust. Jerico felt his heart shatter. Sandra gasped as the dagger pierced her belly. Jerico was too shocked to scream. Time crawled still, and she fell to the ground, blood pouring. Kaide looked at him, and he smiled, but suddenly he was no longer Kaide. He was a creature of shadow, his clothes melding and changing into the face of a woman he thought had long since departed for the Abyss.

“Valessa,” he said. The woman Darius had killed. The word stuck in his throat. His arms felt like they were made of stone. Valessa’s now feminine body shimmered, and fading in and out of dark smoke he saw her gray clothes and leather armor. Her daggers shimmered with crimson power in her hands.

“You killed Claire,” she said, yet it was still Kaide’s voice that spoke. “You killed me. I’ve come to return the favor.”

“What are you?” he asked. It was the only thought that he could manage. Behind her, Sandra wept in pain, her life bleeding out her stomach. Still alive, thought Jerico. Praise Ashhur, she was still alive. His hand shifted for the complicated straps of his shield.

“I’m Karak’s judgment,” she said, now in her own voice. The daggers twirled in fingers that lost all color and texture. “His executioner. His beloved.”

She lunged, and he yanked free his shield. The light flared amid the darkness, and Valessa let out a shriek. Her dagger struck the center and slid to the side. Jerico grabbed his mace and swung twice. The first missed, Valessa ducking beneath with a bend of her back that looked beyond humanly possible, but the return swing clipped the side of her face. Instead of shattering her jawbone, it passed right on through. Her face reformed, and it grinned at him despite the obvious pain the light of his shield caused her.

“Not good,” Jerico muttered, flinging himself backward. His shield blocked the next flurry of blows, but one twisted about, and Jerico had no choice but to try a parry with his mace. It connected with the dagger and batted it aside. His relief was palpable. Her flesh might defy reason, but at least her weapons still made sense. Confidence growing, he took the offensive. He swung his mace in arcs, using it not as a threat but a means to keep her daggers engaged, for as he anticipated, she fought with the finely honed instincts she’d had when still alive. Still human. He couldn’t tell what she was now, other than that her whole being was composed of Karak’s raw power and fury. The light of his shield, that was his weapon, and he wielded it accordingly. Anytime she pressed close, he saw the pain on her face, saw the way she twisted and turned to add distance and keep herself from staring into its center.

“You’ll die,” she cried as her daggers struck his shield amid a shower of sparks. “You, your whore, the bastard Darius…all of you will die, sacrificed in Karak’s name!”

Her movements grew faster, a twirling monster of smoke. But time was running out, and Jerico no longer had the patience.

“No,” he said, lifting his shield high, then slamming it to the ground. “We won’t.”

He cried out the name of his god. The light on his shield flared, brighter and brighter, until the clearing shone as if a blue sun had risen in the sky. Valessa let out a cry akin to a cat in pain. Her flesh peeled, and her daggers lost their glow. Jerico swung, his mace passing through her chest. Valessa stumbled, and it seemed to take longer for her shadowy body to put itself back together. Her legs wobbled, and Jerico flung his shield toward her as the light dimmed. She shrieked again, then was gone.

Jerico gasped in air, his shoulders heaving, as he looked about the clearing. In his mind, he felt no danger, heard no warning from Ashhur. He forgot all about the gray sister, for he heard Sandra weeping. He clipped his mace to his belt, flung his shield onto his back, and then rushed to her side. A lump in his throat, he knelt and took her hands in his. They were soaked with blood.

“Don’t,” she said.

“I must.”

He pulled her hands apart to look. The stab wound was wide, circular. Valessa had twisted the blade on the way out, he realized. He clutched Sandra’s hands tighter, and did his best to keep down his hatred. No matter what, it wasn’t right.

“I can save you,” he whispered, making sure none of his doubt crept into his voice. “Trust me, Sandra. You won’t die here. I’ve got you.”

He pressed his hands into the wound, the blood, and the exposed intestines. His fingers shook, and he clenched his teeth and closed his eyes to keep them still. Fear and doubt would ruin his ability to be a conduit of healing power.

“Please Ashhur,” he whispered. “Please, this is all I know to do.”

Light shone, and his tears fell upon her chest. When he opened his eyes, he saw blood, and a vicious scar, but the bleeding had stopped. She’d still be weak, and he knew it would take several days before she recovered from the loss of blood. But her pulse was strong, and when he touched her face, she smiled at him.

“Do strange men and women attack you often?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

“More than I’d prefer. Can you stand?”

Sandra nodded. He stood, gently took her into his arms, and lifted. Her feet were unsteady beneath her, but he kept her still. She looked like she might vomit for a moment, but it passed. Her whole body trembled as if she were cold.

“Who was that?” Sandra asked, glancing about the forest.

“Someone with a grudge.”

“Is she dead?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

She tried to step away, but it was too much. He caught her, and looked back to Kaide’s camp, torn. Could he really take her with him, wounded as she was? A day or two of bed rest was what she needed, not rough travel.

“Sandra,” he started to say, but she cut him off.

“I’m going,” she said. Her fingers clutched his arm in a vise-like gripe, and her other hand pressed against her stomach. “If not now, I never will.”

Jerico couldn’t believe her strength. If that was what she wanted, what she was capable of, then who was he to deny her?

“So be it, but we rest whenever you cannot go on. If your brother gives chase, he will catch us, no matter how much we hurry. Are you prepared for the consequences?”

She smiled a delirious smile and pulled her hand away from the hole in her dress.

“How could he do any worse to me than what he already has done?”

Jerico chuckled, then patted his shield.

“We’ll just have to be careful. Take my hand.”

With the rest of her things tucked away on his back, she accepted his aid, leaned much of her weight against him, and followed him out of the forest.

K aide stood before the dwindling campfire, hands clasped behind his back. The stars were out, but they’d soon vanish, the morning sun only an hour or two away. He should have been asleep, but one of his scouts had woken him, fearful to say what he’d discovered. Kaide had had to badger it out of him.

“It’s Jerico,” said the scout.

Now Kaide waited as several men searched the surrounding area. He’d known Darius was leaving, but he thought Jerico would stay to ensure his friend’s safety. It seemed that was not the case. Was it a bluff, a reproof? Or perhaps Jerico’s pride was injured? It didn’t seem to matter. After twenty minutes of searching, he knew for certain Jerico was not just sleeping in the distance. He’d left for good.

“Damn you, Jerico,” he said, sadly shaking his head. The paladin had meant so much to him, but that was his fault for putting his faith in a man who valued gods above all else. Ashhur couldn’t care less for his plight, couldn’t care less for his quest of revenge. Where had the god been when the deep snows piled up around Ashvale after Sebastian’s knights had ransacked every bit of their food and livestock? Where had Ashhur been when they threw the first of the dead upon the fire? When the smoke wafted up, and their stomachs growled, and their children cried in hunger?

Adam approached, looking tired and angry for the disruption of sleep. His lips were still swollen, and he had done a poor job cleaning off the blood from his chin.

“You’re not gonna like hearing this,” Adam said.

“Out with it.”

“It’s your sister.”

He started to ask what about her, but Adam’s look was enough. A stone shifted in Kaide’s stomach, and he looked to the dying fire.

“Do we go after them?” Adam asked. “You did say…”

“I know what I said.”

Adam shifted, his arms crossed.

“Then what do we do?”

Kaide drew his dirk, and he twirled it before his eyes, staring into the multitude of reflections cast by the light of the dying embers before him.

“Let them go,” he said, jamming it back into its sheath. “Call off the search. Bellok should be back soon, and we’ll need to be rested. We’ve wasted enough time. Tomorrow we march, and we’ll bring the Abyss to Sebastian and his men.”

“You’re the boss.”

Adam left, and once more alone, Kaide cursed the paladin’s name.

“Take good care of her,” he whispered, looking up to the night sky. “Otherwise I’ll kill you myself.”

He returned to his cabin, hoping for a few more hours of sleep. After tossing and turning for an eternity, he gave up hope, and only stared at the ceiling until at last daylight streamed in through a window.