Take My Heart...: Dark Ages - Fantasy (Dark Gods & Tainted Souls Book 3) (22 page)

Chapter Thirty Nine.

One thing he’d say for a town of gamblers and riff-raff they sure didn’t like the idea of someone coming to destroy their shit. Some of the people had fled and rightly so. He’d been pleased to see the priests of the Lady leading the youngest children, sick and a few soft-looking women away to safety but most people who could carry a weapon stayed. He wished he still had his tent full of swords on hand. His goal was twofold now, he felt it in him, he’d made them believe again in the power of the Lady but that would be all for nothing if they were soon all dead and her temple in ruins.

The town had a Captain of the guards as it was, but the priest of the temple was the main power, he acted much like a chief would in his own holds or a mayor in a proper city. The priest walked up to Goldie and spoke. They looked at the preparations of the town. Walls fortified, stakes cut and laid the main gate blocked with stone and archers on the walls. Their little-mottled force stood at around two hundred men and women, a lot were clearly mercenaries or no strangers to a fight which was good.

“So what’s this all about?” the priest asked. “It seems quite personal.” He’d changed from a slightly annoyed at Goldie to seeking his aid.

“They want us dead and the temple destroyed, the best way to think of them is religious zealots,” Goldie said.

“But you said they were the king’s men. Why does the king care about this sort of thing, he’s a tax collector, a weakling?” the priest said.

“Weak people in positions of power are the best for manipulation,” Goldie said back.

“So we’re vastly outnumbered then?” the priest asked, at that moment the old mercenary walked up to them and shook Goldie by the wrist. “We’ve had scouts back.”

“This should answer you, numbers?” he asked the man, who seemed completely sober now.

“I’d say at least three or four times our force,” he said.

“Holy shit, can we talk with them?” the priest asked.

Goldie looked at their defense and knew a strong proper army of that size would rip through their gate in just minutes. Then all would be lost, the sun was still high in the streets and they had time. It was now he needed to think.

“Give me some time. I’ll be back,” Goldie said and walked off towards the temple.

The township was quiet and silent as a crypt, everyone was at the gates and looking nervously over the walls. The feeling of excitement and fun from the games had been replaced by despair. He walked into the cold of the stone room and looked on the Lady. Her statue was tall and proud, still attractive. He fell to his knees in front of her and almost cried. He held himself back. He didn’t want these people to die, they were just like him. He let his head fall on her feet and looked at them, they weren’t even fixed. The statue just stood there perfectly balanced, if heavy. Standing up he reached out and gave the statue a shove. It moved and much too easily. He pushed it with all his strength and it slid a good meter across the stone.

Goldie grinned to himself. It clearly wasn’t marble. He pulled his dagger from his sheath and, saying an apology to the Lady, he stabbed it into one of her toes. It chipped under his dagger. He smiled again. “Plaster! It’s a fake. I love this town.”

He looked up at the Lady and she was still smiling that little smirk that made everything seem like a good idea. Goldie ran from the temple yelling, a feeling of hope running through him. Northman never liked to run from a fight but when the enemy’s goal was simply to kill you, not being there was a good plan.

He found the priest and the old mercenary where he’d left them looking defeated.

“I have a plan!” he yelled.

“What’s that?” asked the priest looking forlorn.

“That statue isn’t real, is it?” he said.

The priest looked around nervously but saw no one could hear them. “We’ll that one’s not, we have the main one tucked away on days like this. It just gets too much wear and tear, vomit, blood, you know marbles very hard to clean” he said.

“So that one’s fake and I’m guessing hurting it won’t do shit, but the real one is where? hidden in the temple?” he asked.

“Yes, but they’ll still find it won’t they, they’ll come here, kill us all, smash it, realize and then just go find the real one.” The priest said, forlorn again.

“They want the Statue and we’ll give it to them. I’ll take the fake and the battle to them, you take the real one and your priests and run.”

“It’ll take ten men to move the real one,” the priest said.

“Then take ten men,” Goldie yelled.

Goldie hit his arm and grabbed the old mercenary. He hadn’t paid much attention to the old Northman before but now did. “What’s your name friend?” he asked.

“Lead Belly,” he said back through broken teeth. Goldie laughed.

“Wish I’d known that before we started drinking, you ready to do something stupid?” he asked.

“Always.”

Goldie just grinned and walked to the front gate. He stood for a few moments in the harsh heat until the eyes of many of the town were on him. They stood on the battlements looking hopeless. Even his friend the little lad stood on watch next to his father.

“People, these scum want our town because we’ve seen the power of the Lady, but they won’t get it. I’m not waiting for nightfall and for them to come to us and destroy all we’ve built. I’m going to take the fight to them. We’ll march for the Lady, for drinking, for gambling and the right to more than our share!”

He was greeted by a cheer and some laughter mixed in, the boy jumped off the wall and ran to his side, Goldie spoke to the boy for a moment. He ran back to his father and disappeared with him and few other big men. Goldie stood for a few long minutes and then he heard them. Heading up the main street pulling a slightly worn but very real looking statue in a wagon.

“I will march on them but I’d rather a few of you with me,” Goldie shouted.

“Open the gate!” Goldie yelled and slowly it was cleared and opened just a crack. As he stood a woman ran to him, she was the daughter who had played a part in his ruse. She handed him a long wooden spike, on it waved a flag with a picture of the Lady on it, not a battle standard but it would do.

He kicked his horse and started to walk it slowly out the gate under the eyes of the people. He could see the fight in many of them. Some believed in him, some in her and many were just the type who didn’t like the idea of waiting for death and would rather greet it head on.

As he marched from the gate people kept coming behind him, more and more. Soon he marched up the road towards the king’s men with a force of a hundred behind him. He smiled. to himself. Beside him rode the boy in the wagon, putting a fresh coat of paint on the plaster as they rolled.

“I hope this works,” he muttered to Lead Belly and trotted onwards.

Chapter Forty.

The water lapped at the side of the ship and he stood at the prow. It was a big monster of a wooden thing and would find no easy pier to land on. He stood against the wooden rail and looked at the dark land that was rapidly rising through the fog to meet them. Next to him stood the Lucky Lady. She held a long thin sword in her hand and still wore her long flowing black dress, she smirked at him, which gave him little comfort.

“We really couldn’t have brought an army or something?” Seth asked her, as the boat came closer to the rocky shore.

“He’d find an army, we have a better chance with just a small group,” she said.

“Two is a very small group, what about your fellows?” he asked.

“The judge has fallen but others will be giving us the only chance we have, they have agreed to lend you their strength. Close your eyes,” she said.

Seth closed his eyes and felt her ice-cold hand on his forehead. She didn’t speak but he felt a surge of power flowing into his body. It felt powerful, stronger than any taking had ever given him. As it flowed into him. His mind was filled with visions, the sun rising from its watery grave, people praying in the north to the warrior Famir and hundreds of others.” She removed her hand and he opened his eyes.

“What was that?” he asked.

“They have lent you what strength they can, we must do the fighting ourselves.”

“How is it you’re the strongest? Like you said, you’re not a fighter.” Seth said.

She laughed lightly. “What can I say? People like my statues, now get ready, it’ll be a battle through your fear as much as against a foe.”

The massive bulk of
The Opulent
was traveling fast towards the stony shore and he realized it was not going to stop. The huge boat crested from the water smashed into the earth and stones. There was a huge ripping sound of wooded destruction as the vessel lurched forward. Seth was ready and jumped from the ship. It was a huge distance but he landed lightly in the waist deep water. Holding his sword above his head he waded to the shore.

The land was black and dark, no grass only stone and dirt. He looked next to him and saw the lady. She grabbed his hand and they ran up the shore, water clinging to his legs and her dress.

“He’ll have heard that,” she said.

“No shit,” Seth cried back as they ran onwards. The beach was a small stretch of dark sand and soon they were up it. Beyond them stood a field of huge black stones and rocks. Beyond he could see what looked like a Keep. Fires glowed in its windows and off its battlements. They ran on hand and behind him he could hear the sounds of the black dogs, howling and trying to pick up their scent.

They ran through a crevice in the stone and pulling his body out, he cried in shock. He stood once again in the township of Bloodcrest, he remembered it from his youth. The Lady pulled him onwards through the town. All around Seth lay the desecrated bodies of people. The stalls were broken and torn and he saw soldiers and townspeople laying with their throats ripped out and blood around them in pools.

“Whatever you see, ignore it, he’s just trying to scare you,” she said as she pulled him on.

Seth tried to block out the vision and ran on. He couldn’t shake the feeling this was a vision of what would pass if, or more likely when he failed. He knew the town well and clearly she did as well, they ran through the main square and out the other side, but must pass the Keep as they did. Seth made the mistake of looking at it as they passed and saw it. The man Snake Tongue was in a black metal cage at the entrance. His body was broken and bleeding but alive, he looked at Seth with one eye, the other closed with blackened scars and marks.

“You will fail us all boy, you’re weak and you will let us all die,” he yelled.

Seth closed his eyes and let her lead him on past the broken man who he’d once so admired. Once again he tried to tell himself it was just a trick but it seemed so real.

“First real challenge,” she said, he opened his eyes and saw before them on the roadway stood three large and well-armed men, more visions he thought but they pulled swords as the two ran onwards at them.

“Are they real?” he asked raising his sword above his head as he ran.

“Real enough to kill us,” she said.

Seth was surprised that he felt a burst of rage and strength, here, at least, was something he could fight, not ghost or feelings but real foes.

He looked at the men and recognized them. He knew their faces but they were memories from what seemed a different life altogether. They were dressed as city guards and he saw they were his old friends from the north, Erik, Griffith and Ulrik. The very men who had come with him from Bloodcrest so long ago and left at the first sign of trouble. They drew on him and one smiled as he approached at a run.

“Good to see you again brother. Now you’ll die like we did!” Erik yelled, his voice wasn’t what Seth remembered. He was always the nice one.

Seth stopped and looked at the man, across his throat was a long cut mark, closed over.

“What? You all left me!” he yelled back, trying to regain his rage.

“Let’s just say we didn’t make it far,” Griffith shouted as he swung his sword at the stunned Seth.

He was too shocked to block the strike and just stepped sidewards as the blade passed by him. His instincts came back and he countered with a hard slash knocking the man back hard. He lunged sidewards and elbowed Ulrik hard in the face. He’d always been his least favorite, always stealing his chance at a girl.

Seth blocked out any thought of who they were and just fought as if they were faceless killers in some child’s play of swords. They surrounded him now and Griffith got a sword in the back from the Lady who they had ignored. She then stepped back and let Seth fight. He grinned at Ulrik who raised himself from the ground and lunged blindly at him with blood on his face. Seth sidestepped and punched his sword deep into him, the man collapsed.

Seth felt the wind of a blade pass his throat and jumped back. The last of his foes, Eric, stood. They’d always been close. For those years in training, he’d been his closest friend.

“I’m sorry,” Seth said.

The man grinned and Seth saw there was no light in his eyes, he was truly just a ghost, shade or some dead thing. He met his blade above his head and taking a move from somewhere kicked the man hard in the stomach. He bunched over and Seth brought his sword down hard into his exposed neck. Erik fell dead, or dead once more, whichever it was.

Seth felt his own pounding heart, breath and looked around at the three dead friends from his childhood. He fought against the emotion, they weren’t real. The Lady just took his hand and led them onwards.

“At least, it wasn’t your father,” she muttered as they ran.

***

He’d lived up to his word. She was marched at sword point by the youngest of the three sisters towards the Keep and she guessed the dungeons. She had to do something, she couldn’t just let them throw her in her and hope that Seth came to rescue her. She remembered what she was like in the land of the dead when she’d taken his guise. She was strong and powerful, she’d fought better than any of them. She felt a flicker of pride at herself then. Her powers of guise were useless here, they worked well enough but to try and deceive people who could read your every thought would take something more.

She felt the lazy blade against her back and knew the woman who marched her was bored and not ready for anything. She thought of her own mind, her thoughts and she changed them as if it were her face she tried to change it to a vision of love for the brother.

The girl behind her laughed. “Now you love brother, you humans are a fickle lot,” the girl said. Seraphina felt a burst of hope. She was the weakest of them but maybe it would work. The girl led her onwards through the Keep. They avoided the main rooms but she still heard the groans and cries of the people strapped to the racks in there. They walked down a cold hallway to a doorway she knew it led downwards. She’d have to time it right.

Thankfully the prison room was empty. No guards or other prisoners, they were all on display in the dining room clearly. The room was low lit with candles and stank of blood and fear. In the middle of the row was another of those terrible black crosses covered in dried blood. The girl pushed her onwards to one of the open cells. Seraphina looked at her face for the first time. She had such a sweet look but her eyes were dark and cold. She still held the guise of a normal woman but Seraphina knew what she really looked like.

“Get in,” she said simply and reached out for some keys.

Seraphina walked in and grabbing the edge of the heavy metal door, stepped clear and swung it hard into the girls face as she fumbled at her waist for the right key. The edge of the metal gate hit her perfectly and hard. It caught her right on the temple and she flew backwards with a grunt of shock and collapsed on the stone floor. She felt a feeling of elation that the move had worked and walked to the girls crumpled form. She stood over her and saw a thin trickle of blood come from her forehead. She was softly breathing, asleep for who knew how long.

Seraphina took the girl by the hand and using all her strength dragged her body across the stones and into the cell. She found her keychain and after a few tries found the right key. She heard a noise at the door and quickly locked it. Now was the moment of truth. Thinking hard she changed the girl’s guise to be that of her and hers the girl’s, But that was not enough. She tried to change her thoughts, the way they looked, smell and acted, she made them black and bloody.

The door to the dungeon swung wide and he was there. She’d never done this before. She could actually feel the Girl’s thoughts in her mind, running next to her own. Seraphina felt revulsion but the girl felt safe, she let the safe though come through.

“What took so long, little sister?” he asked. Looking at the woman on the floor he laughed. “Was that needed?” he asked.

“She fought back, that’s what took so long,” she said in a voice not her own.

He laughed again, “We’ll aren’t you full of surprises, come on, he’s landed and we need to make him welcome.” He took her hand and led her from the room.