Sons of Evil: Book 1 Book of Dread (10 page)

Once Landri had admitted the
Blood Book was gone, it was a fairly simple matter for Kaelesh to find out who
might have taken it. He had thought the idiot Landri might have simply
misplaced it in one of his drunken stupors, but some probing had revealed it
was the combination of lust and alcohol that had been the culprit. What
surprised him was that the girl had had the courage to act upon whatever Landri
had let slip about the book. He looked forward to finding her, to exploring
just how courageous she really was.

Kaelesh considered again what
he might do once he had the book. Working with Landri had its pluses and
minuses. The king was emotional, often flying into rages, frequently drunk, and
for the most part a coward, all of which made him fairly easy to control. But
it also led to mistakes, and limited just how far he could go. Someone more
powerful, with a stronger inner self, would be much more of a challenge, but
the rewards could be far greater. The unknowns in the equation made it
difficult for Kaelesh to decide on a course, but he was patient, and the
passing of time was never something that pressed him into rash action. He would
wait and see what developed.

The Stoneman residence came
into view, a modest place but clearly not impacted too severely by the war and
the other troubles of the last decade. Kaelesh ordered the guards to fan out
and search the fields and outbuildings, save for the men he kept with himself. These
followed him to the front door of the home, and stood beside him with weapons
ready as he knocked on the door. He had no need of them or their weapons, but
he enjoyed the sense of drama their presence created.

Kaelesh’s senses were finely
tuned instruments, and as he waited patiently at the door, he could hear the
shuffle of feet inside and an exchange of harsh whispers. Finally with a creak
the door swung open and Kevin Stoneman filled the entry with his arms crossed
over his chest. He looked Kaelesh over once, then glanced at the soldiers and
frowned with disapproval. “There a reason you come to my door with such arms at
the ready? I’ve two boys in the army and a daughter serving at the castle for
several years. Am I a thief or a murderer that you send your men through my
crops?” He gestured past Kaelesh to let him know he had seen his men searching
the place.

One of the guards raised the
hilt of his sword and started forward. “Quiet, you dog, or I’ll—”

Kaelesh silenced him with an
upraised hand. He actually wanted to slap the man for having the impertinence
to speak, but he stayed his own hand as well. It seemed Kevin Stoneman might
give him some sport after all. “I apologize for any inferred insult to you or
your family, but I have been sent here by King Landri himself on a mission of
some import.”

“And who are you?” Stoneman
asked, with a little less vehemence than he might have mustered a moment ago.

“My name is Kaelesh, chief
counselor to King Landri. You, I take it, are Kevin Stoneman?”

“That’s true enough.”

Kaelesh
waited a few beats, then said with some delicateness, “These are not the most
hospitable times, Mr. Stoneman, but perhaps we might speak inside, man-to-man.”
He added a tilt of his head, pointing out the armed guards who might be
excluded from such a conversation.

Stoneman relented, inviting
Kaelesh inside with a wave of his hand. After one last glare at the guard who
had threatened him, he closed the door.

Kaelesh was introducing
himself to the flustered Mrs. Stoneman before the door clicked shut. She had
been trying to eavesdrop on the conversation at the front door and hadn’t been
able to scramble out of sight before Kaelesh spotted her. To break away from
his piercing gaze, she offered him tea, which he politely refused.

“Well,” she said, backing
away, “I’ll let you men talk.”

“Nonsense,” said Kaelesh. “This
concerns both of you.” He pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and held it
for her. “Please, be seated.”

She knew instinctively that
the invitation was more than courtesy. There was something about Kaelesh, the
way he carried himself, the look in his eye, the tone of his voice, which
indicated he was used to being in command. He was ordering her to stay. Reluctantly
she took the offered seat, remembering to at least mumble “Thank you.”

Kaelesh gestured for Kevin
Stoneman to be seated, and once Stoneman had complied, he began to slowly pace
the room. “You mentioned your daughter serving at the castle. When was the last
time you saw her?”

Kevin’s eyes narrowed and his
face grew hard. “Why? Is there something wrong? Is she ill?”

“I did not say that. And you
didn’t answer my question.”

Kevin blew out a breath,
clearly annoyed. “It’s been maybe six years.”

“That long?” Kaelesh asked,
his expression one of surprise.

“Most of the castle servants
spend their lives inside the walls of Old Bern. I’d think you’d know that,
being so close to the king and all.”

“Dear,” Marissa said, laying a
hand on his arm.

“Well, what do you expect,”
Kevin answered her, as if Kaelesh were not there. “He comes here with armed
men, he hints there might be trouble with my little girl, and then he asks such
trivial questions.”

Kaelesh cleared his throat. “Again,
my apologies. It appears as if your daughter, Sasha, has left the king’s
service, by her own accord, within the last few weeks. We thought it likely she
would come here.”

Kevin looked stunned. “No,” he
said, thinking things out. “If she were in some sort of trouble or needed help,
she might have, but she hasn’t come home.” He locked eyes with Kaelesh. “
Is
she in some sort of trouble?”

“Not necessarily. No one knows
why she left or where she went. That in itself would be of no concern to the
king—servants do leave from time to time. However, something of value to the
king seems to have been misplaced at precisely the time Sasha left.”

“You would accuse—” Kevin
started, his face turning red.

“Please, Mr. Stoneman, calm
yourself. I am investigating all leads, as my king requires of me. If you say
you have not seen your daughter in six years, I would not think to impugn your
honesty. None of us would wish for there to be any misunderstanding between
us.” He took a few steps toward the door, paused, and then turned back to face
them. “I like to think the best of people, Mr. and Mrs. Stoneman, but I have
been lied to before. Those that have done so…well, let’s just say they spend
the remainder of their time on this mortal plane regretting it.”

Kevin Stoneman stood as
Kaelesh reached the door. “If you get news of my daughter, please let us know. All
we understand now is that she is missing. We’ll have little rest until we know
she is safe.”

“Of course,” Kaelesh said,
adding a small bow, a gesture of his willingness to serve even these humble
people. Once outside he told the guards that it was time to return to the
castle. As his escort reformed he mounted his horse and stared at the Stoneman
residence, as if trying to read the minds of those inside. He turned away and
smiled to himself. He had no doubt that the Stonemans had seen their daughter,
but whether they knew her current whereabouts was another question. He’d have
the answer soon enough, but not with this lot of soldiers about. They talked
too much. Kaelesh would return, and then, he thought with some amusement, he
would see just how well Kevin and Marissa Stoneman could play the game they’d
begun.

A week had passed since they
had come upon the carnage at the farm, and although they had not sighted the
bat-things since that day under the trees, they had seen the gruesome evidence
of their passage. For the most part it was wild animals, although an occasional
horse, cow, or pig had fallen victim as well. There had been no scene as awful
as what Adrianna witnessed in the farmhouse, and for that they were thankful,
but they realized that meant only that they had not come upon the end result of
such an attack, not that one had not occurred. Corterra was a large world.

They had reached the Vale
River and then followed it north, and the life in and around such a body of
water helped sustain them and make their journey somewhat more bearable. True
rest was difficult to come by with one wary eye always turning skyward,
searching for the flying black forms that might signal their doom.

Luke was the first to spot New
Bern, or rather the tell-tale wisps of smoke from forges and cooking fires that
marked the place. The relief was almost palpable, a sense of added safety from
a busy city luring them to quicken their pace as if racing for shelter before a
storm broke.

Darius, staying well-grounded,
reminded them of what they carried, and that they were still fugitives in their
own land. “Landri will have many men in New Bern, and there are far more ears
listening for anything they could use for profit. We need to be careful.”

“You’re right,” Silas said. “And
we aren’t headed directly there. Barlow forsook the city life some time ago. He
lives on this side of the river, somewhat in isolation. And he’s why we’re
here.”

“Do you know how to find his
place?”

“Follow me,” Silas said.

An hour later they stood fifty
yards from a small home or a large shack—it was hard to tell which. What it
lacked in size it made up for in sturdiness and appearance. The building was
well-constructed, and a fresh coat of paint had been recently applied. The area
around it was neatly manicured, with colorful flowers in bloom and a stone path
leading to the door.

“Guess he’s not much for house
guests,” Adrianna said. “I doubt the group of us could even sit down inside.”

“Too nice a day for that,”
Silas replied, ignoring the first verbal volley of the battle he was sure would
need to be endured. He led them to the door and rapped sharply two times.

Adrianna only waited a few
heartbeats before saying, “Like to think he’s out, but we aren’t that lucky.”

Silas shot her a quick scowl,
then hit the door again. “Open up, Barlow! It’s Silas!” he bellowed.

Just as he finished shouting
the door was flung open. “Give a man a second would you, I—” Barlow stopped,
seeing Silas was not alone. When he saw Adrianna his eyes narrowed. To Silas he
said, “Should I assume these young gentlemen are of similar character to this
witch? If so, I’d rather you all departed.”

“Sorceress, Barlow,” Silas
said.

“Mere wordplay. Changes
nothing.”

“I suppose not. Would you care
to insult my friends in some other fashion before I introduce them? I’m sure
you’re making an excellent first impression.”

This seemed to strike home
with Barlow. He bowed his head once, then looked Darius and Luke directly in
the eyes, one after the other, and said, “I beg your forgiveness. I had no
right to offend you, regardless of the company you keep.”

“We travel with Silas, as
well,” Darius said. “I was led to believe he was your friend.”

“So he
is,” Barlow admitted. He bowed again in a show of courtesy. “I am Percival
Barlow, as I assume you already know. How can I be of service?”

Silas
guffawed at the display and the formal words, but Barlow simply stood tall with
as much dignity as he could muster. He was taller than any of them, and still
trim and fit, but the passage of years could be seen in the lines on his face,
his thinning gray hair, and the white mustache and tuft of beard on his chin. After
Darius and Luke had introduced themselves, Silas grew serious and said, “We do
need your help, my friend.”

“All of you?” he asked,
casting a look of disdain at Adrianna.

She nearly rose to the bait,
but caught herself. “I’ll let you boys work things out,” she said, and then
turned and walked off before anyone else could speak.

Silas made a point of watching
her for a time, then said to Barlow, “You know, sometimes I’m amazed you never
married.”

“It appears the help you
needed was only a target upon which to sharpen your wit,” Barlow retorted. “If
you’re finished, I’ll bid you good day.”

“I just wish you two could get
along.”

“As long as we need not see
one another, I believe we both get along fine. I assume you must have a good
reason for bringing her here with you. This certainly is no social visit.”

Silas turned to Darius. “Show
him the book.”

Darius opened his pack, pulled
out the book, and presented it to Barlow.

Barlow’s bushy eyebrows knit
together in a scowl as he looked at the book. He made no move to take it. “Is
that what I think it is?” he asked Silas.

“Blood Book,” Silas answered
in affirmation.

“You’ve tried to open it?”

“Tried and failed,” Darius
replied.

Barlow finally managed to take
his eyes from the book and looked at his long-time friend. “I cannot open it. I
hope you haven’t come all this way thinking I could.”

“Not at all. I’m not sure any
human we’d want to open it could. We’re taking it to Aerlos.”

“Another wi—…sorceress,”
Barlow said, but his tone was not harsh. “But an elf, and elves are different
than men. A perilous journey though. Even if she can open it, why would you
want to? The book is evil, as is everything that might spring from it. Best it
be destroyed, and if that can’t be accomplished, lost somewhere it’ll not be
found.”

“I don’t disagree. But Darius
here did not simply find this at market in some bookseller’s stall. It was
previously in the possession of King Landri.”

“Landri!” Barlow exclaimed. He
closed his eyes and calmed himself. “Perhaps you had best tell me the story of
how you came to be here with this dread thing.”

Silas let Darius tell the
story, and Barlow took it in with a look of open surprise and dismay on his
face. When Darius was finished, he said, “This may explain much of what has
befallen our world of late. If Landri was using it…you have done well simply to
deprive him of it. If Aerlos cannot help you, I’d suggest the book stay in the
Far North, preferably in some hole that’ll be covered in ice for all time.” He
turned his attention back to Silas. “You’ve still not said why you’re here. What
help is it you think I can provide?”

“I want you to come with us,”
Silas answered.

Barlow laughed, but it was a laugh
with no mirth. “I’m an old man, Silas. My days of chasing after heroic feats
are over.”

“What of your days of caring? Of
serving the Savior?”

Barlow sighed. “Understanding
one’s limits is a sign of maturity and wisdom. If God wanted me to go on such a
foolish quest, He’d let me know.”

Now Silas smiled. He threw his
arms open wide and said, “Behold His messenger.”

“Don’t blaspheme.”

“Are you sure I am?”

Barlow shook his head. “You
should have chosen a different line of work. You’re brilliant at twisting words
to your advantage.”

“It’s a gift, I suppose. What
He provides, one should use.”

Barlow just shook his head
again, and avoided meeting Silas’ eyes.

The cleric said softly, “If
you two gentlemen don’t mind, I’d like a word alone with my friend.”

As Darius and Luke wondered
off after Adrianna, Barlow invited Silas into his home with a silent wave of
his hand.

The interior was much like the
exterior, humble but neatly kept. He offered Silas the room’s only chair and
then busied himself with a stew cooking over a small fire.

“You need this,” Silas said.

Barlow kept his back to him. “I
don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Purpose, Barlow. You lost
that years ago, and I’ve watched you go further into your shell ever since.”

“I’ve already said with age
comes—”

“You can try that guff on the
others, but don’t waste it on me. You’re no coward, my friend, and I’ll not
name you one, but you’ve given up on this world and yourself, and every day
your focus turns a little more to the end of your time on Corterra.”

“We believe the same thing,
Silas. Death is not an end, but a beginning. A glorious one.”

“Yes, a transition. But while
we’re here, we serve here.”

Barlow sighed and paused for
several minutes. When he spoke his tone was quiet, and he still spoke toward the
wall. “I’ve done what I thought was right. I wanted this world to be a
treasure, a reflection of what was to come. Now, everything has gone to ruin,
and I am past my prime. Even thirty years ago I doubt I could have… You don’t
need me, Silas, and I don’t want your pity.”

“I don’t pity you, and the
only thing you’re getting close to is a swift kick in the rump. You have a
noble heart, my friend, but if you set out to make this flawed world into
paradise, you were bound to come up short. But I’ve seen you wield that sword,
I’ve seen the light come upon you when you’re battling for right, I’ve seen
your healing touch. We need you for this journey. I need you. And you need it
for yourself. Get out and act. You’ve seen the book, you’ve heard the rumors of
what’s happening in Corterra.”

“What if it’s too late?”
Barlow asked, finally turning to face Silas. He bit at his lower lip and tears
rimmed his eyes.

“Then we’ll all pass away, and
then on to better things. The question is, do you want to wait here for evil to
find you, or do you want to go out there with us and try to fight it?”

Barlow shook is head, but a
smile played on his lips. “I don’t know why I bother to argue with you. When
you’ve set your mind to something, you’re the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.”

“Well, I learned from a master
in that area.”

Barlow held up his hands in
submission. “No more. You win.” His face drew down a bit as he added, “I
suppose I shouldn’t waste my time asking if we need to take Adrianna along.”

“Start packing,” Silas answered
with a sly smile and a shake of his head. He went to find the others, happy at
his success but wondering how he would keep Barlow and Adrianna from each
others’ throats. Despite the many dangers they might face on this journey, it
was the possible self-inflicted wounds the small party might endure that
currently concerned him the most.

*

Kaelesh looked up at the full
moon and smiled. He had not planned his visit to coordinate with this
particular phase, but he enjoyed the added touch it provided. People were so
superstitious, especially at night.

He bent low and drew several
lines in the dirt with an experienced hand. When he was done, he took a small
dagger from under his cloak and made a quick slash across his palm. He made a
fist and squeezed until the blood dripped freely into the markings he had made.
For a moment the blood merely darkened the soil, but then it began to bubble
and sizzle like oil in a hot pan. Wisps of smoke began to rise, to the
untrained eye just a continuation of the apparent boiling of the blood. But
Kaelesh knew better, and he stepped back with a smile.

The rising smoke came in three
columns, which started to whirl about one another even though the night air was
completely still. The vapors drew together into a form, a shape like a stooped
man with long arms, but the phantom was solid in no way, and the mist that had
risen was still visible within the creature’s shape.

Kaelesh spoke a few words to
it in an odd tongue, upon which it moved with a swift, easy grace toward the
Stoneman residence. The house was shut-up, the windows and doors closed and
locked, but such a fact did not even give the shadow-creature pause. It slid
under the door, undid the latch, and waited for its master to enter.

Kevin Stoneman awoke with a
start, his heart pounding and sweat covering his body. It has been like this
for the last several nights, the nightmares jolting him awake, the images of
the suffering of his wife and children so vivid he wanted to weep. As he had
each previous night, he looked upon his wife and found comfort in the gentle
rise and fall her breathing imparted to her sleeping form.

Something toward the window
caught his eye, a subtle change in the moonlight that streamed through the
glass. A passing cloud, he started to tell himself. He reached toward the table
beside his bed, trying to find the candle and lighter that sat there, but
another shadow, this one more solid, made him freeze.

“I had a few more questions,
Mr. Stoneman,” Kaelesh said, his voice like an icy dagger.

Kevin couldn’t find his own
voice. He wanted to rage at the man for violating the sanctity of his home, to
order him out, to say he didn’t care who he was, he’d better leave or be tossed
out on his ear. But instead he was paralyzed by some unknown terror, a creeping
dread that was so palpable he thought he could reach out and touch it. He
thought to at least wake his wife and tell her to run while he flung himself
blindly at Kaelesh, hoping she might be able to escape, but the terror grew
like a weight on his chest, and he simply sank back onto the bed, like a kid
thinking the covers would protect him from the monsters that lurked nearby at
night.