The Apprentices (The Crimson Guard Trilogy Book 1) (13 page)

20

Jes, Talon and the red haired one made their way back to Talon’s empty cell.  The corridors of the dungeon were desolate, no movement, no life of any form.  As they came upon the body of the crimson guard, the woman stopped and stared, a single tear slid down her cheek.  Both men saw the sudden show of emotion, Jes said nothing since he still could not quite bring himself to speak to the beautiful woman.  Talon on the other hand, “Isss that one a kin to you?” He made a quick hand gesture towards the body.

“No, not my kin.   I do not shed this tear over his corpse, I cry for all those forced into her services, but we have no time to discuss this now.  I am Naomi and we need to leave before her Favorite comes.  He is a most terrible thing.”

“Her Favorite, who isss thisss perssson that you ssspeak of; thisss man alssso sssaid sssomething about that as well before he died.”

“It used to be a person long ago, but now I… I don’t know what it is.”  She hurried along and the others had to quicken their pace to keep up.

The party emerged from the dungeon just in time to see the sun break the horizon.  Jes led the band past the place where he had killed the thug and towards the hidden passage the queen had inadvertently shown him.  A huge commotion interrupted their progress.  The street was packed with citizens and the queen’s royal guards.

Jes grabbed a close passerby “what is the cause of this?”

“You don’t hear?  The invading army has infiltrated the castle.  The queen’s reign has come to an end.  We have tired of her rule.  It is time we live as we wish.”  The crowd cheered.   

Jes suddenly realized that the royal guards were no longer standing among the crowd, and all attention had fallen onto the three. 

“WAIT!  We have not come to occupy your home; our quest was solely to kill the queen.  We have no desire to linger here.”

Jes side stepped and slowly led his companions towards the hidden door.  The mob watching their every step, each vying for a better look at the three walking away.    

A tall man spoke near the front of the crowd, “Look all, the woman, she has the crimson mark.”  Every prying eye settled on Naomi’s red hair, even Jes and Talon could not help themselves. 

“I think we are in trouble now,” whispered Jes.

In response the dragon man’s white blade left its scabbard and lay to rest in his scaly grip dripping with the outspoken man’s blood.  “Ssshe isss our prisssssoner and you will not have her.”  Talon’s speech clicked in Jes’ head and he followed in turn.

“We are taking her from this place for our own desires and you better not interfere.”  Naomi directed a quick smile towards Jes. 

For our own desires, how stupid,
Jes thought as he stepped into the guard’s barracks, the same he had passed through the previous night.  The bodies of the three were exactly where they had fallen.

Talon rejoined the party “The crowd did not follow ussss into thisss place, but if we walk the ssstreetsss again, they will not let ussss passss for a sssecond time.” 

“No worries my large friend.  There is a way through the outer wall from here.  But first, we will rest; and she,” Jes pointed at the woman, “will give us some answers.” 

“Ask what you will.  You are my saviors,” said the beautiful mage.

Jes paused for a moment, regaining the courage to speak to her again. “What is the deal with your hair?  I have traveled far and wide,” Jes spread his arms wide.  “Many places for which you can consider on my current occupation, and you are the second person to whom I have come across with that same trait.  The first is lying dead outside my friends’ cell.”  Jes asked while pointing at Talon, who looked intently at Naomi.   

“Well… to tell the truth. I have no idea why it happens.  The legends say that a chosen few are selected at birth by Redington the Bringer of Magic or the Immortal Guardian.” 

“Wait,” Jes interrupted “What legends? All that I have heard about Redington is that he is supposedly the God who eternally battles the shadow spirits or shades, with his Crimson Army.”

“Yes.” Naomi continued.  “It is true, there is a war raging, but Redington is no god:  the gods that you speak of are something else completely.”

“What? Like Elves?”  Jes interrupted. 

“Please! Elves are only in fairy tales, for bad children and superstitious Shlocks.  You must have been a very bad child.”  Naomi said smugly.  Jes sneered, as Talon chuckled.

“Talon, why don’t you go chop something.”  Jes said angrily.  Talon patted the rogue on the head “Maybe later.”

Breaking the current joke Naomi continued. “True, most Humans do not have the luxury of meeting Redington in their life time, but he does live in this world and the Crimson Army is real.  At least it was, who knows anymore.  Anyway, back to the question at hand.  Redington somehow chooses select Humans at birth to aid in his fight against the shadows.  To be candid, I don’t really know the exact process.”  Jes laughed and said “Wouldn’t it be funny if you were his children.  Then that dead guy would have been your kin.”

Naomi looked at Jes like he was a child, “Do you want me to continue?” 

“Yes, yes, do go on.”  Jes put his hand up in a defensive manner. 

“The red in our hair could possibly come from the magic mark he leaves upon us when we are born.  This, I guess, is the mark,” she grabbed a few strands of hair looking at it.  “A mark that represents knowledge; knowledge of the Immortal Guardian and the war.”

“Why do the red onesss ssserve the Queen.”  Talon interrupted this time.

“I do not know how the Queen has been able to gain the loyalty of these soldiers.  It is said by whom I don’t recall, that not so long ago Redington entrusted the instruction and training of his soldiers to three Humans.  Whether these Humans are mage’s themselves is beyond my knowledge.  I do know that two were women and the third was a man.  The rest of the story is not clear to me.”  She slumped into a seat looking disappointed that her knowledge was so limited.

“So what legends are you talking about?”  Jes asked again looking at Talon, who shrugged his shoulders.

“What do you mean?  Are these legends not common knowledge?  Are you saying that you have never heard any of this before or do you two just like listening to me speak?”  Naomi directed at the two men.  Both men blushed a little and shook their heads in response.  Naomi sat for a second lost in thought before speaking again.  “I really don’t know who told me any of this.  I had always thought it was my former master, but now thinking about it, I have always known this tale.”  

“Hmm that is an interesting story, but for now we need to get out this place before that mob forgets about Talon’s big sword.”

21

The stairs seemed to be a blur before my eyes as I climbed.  Uncertainty flooded my consciousness, making my gut churn.  If I had eaten before this moment I knew that I would surely have tasted it once again. 

I had been running so hard and for so long a pain began to develop along my side.  Pain much like what a dagger could inflict. I looked down remembering my wound.  There was nothing there but skin and a slight red mark exactly where it hurt.  I could have sworn that I had seen a dagger embedded in my side, in fact, I remember removing it, and all of that blood.  The stairs suddenly opened up into a large room; on the far side, I could see the continuation of my assent.  From what I could see this room was different. Instead of doors and passages on the outer edge of the great circular room, hundreds of statues stood.  Each slightly different than the next, some were of creatures I had never seen before.  Those were taller than the human statues and had angular faces with odd pointy ears.    

I had nearly made it halfway across the room when a strange feeling crept along my spine.  A sudden fear paralyzed me; the presence was strong, and tugging at my soul like a black hole. 

I stopped in front of a pointy eared monolith. “What is it you need?  I have no quarrel with… Whatever you are,” I said while turning.   The creature stepped from the dark corridor, I had just vacated.  The beast had the shape of a tall, slender man, and wore a green cloak which hid the details of the man’s features. 

“Why have you come spell caster.”  The creature’s voice had a very raspy quality that made me cringe.

“A fight is not what I wish, not with you anyways. The Witch Queen is the one I will confront.  You should return to the darkness.”

“As you already said she is my Witch Queen and I am her Favorite.  If I am unable to halt your advance, then you may continue on your quest, and let the gods tremble.”  The words screamed arrogance, but showed no emotion, this troubled me even more. 

Movement caught my eyes as he opened his hands in an odd gesture.
Is this a sign of friendship?
I thought.  Slowly I strode closer until I could finally make out his facial features.  The dark lines and absence of pigment caused a warning within my head.  This was not the face of a man, a hideous smile spread across its sickly face.  The icy cold grip of fear that had stopped me earlier returned like a lovers embrace.  The beast had the intention of killing me.

Slowly the dark figure began to move away towards the wall. This confused me,
why is it backing away.
  I decided not to wait and find out, a ball of burning light exploded from my fingertips.  Its’ voyage only lasted a few seconds, but its’ destination held true.  The ball slammed into the figure’s chest, knocking him from his feet onto the cold floor.  I puffed my chest as confidence filled me, maybe this will not be as difficult as I had thought. I might just survive yet.

I turned and took one step forward toward the end of the great room, but before my foot could fall the deafening sound of shattering glass filled the silence.  Pain followed the sound, a pain that began to fill my body with fire, a fire that I would allow to consume my mind.

…………………………………………………………………………….

“You know what is odd?  There is a war going on all around us and yet it is silent.”  Jes vocalized his concern as the group slowly made their way to the trapdoor stepping over a lifeless soldier. 

“Maybe the battle outside is over or the Witch Queen has met her demise, either way it is no longer our concern.  I only wish to finally leave this place,” said the crimsoned haired beauty as she reached for the door handle.  “So who is this man that leads such an idiotic campaign against the Witch Queen?”  Her statement had just escaped her lips when a hastened thumping of footsteps caused her to look back.  Her glance was just in time to catch an escaping thief as he rounded the corner back towards the city streets.

Jes burst through the door into the streets expecting to see the mob.  Instead the area was abandoned, no angry city folk, just the dead guards the mod had taken care of and the tall man Talon silenced.  Jes had nearly reached the castle when an explosion of glass came raining down on the battered but vacant streets.  His eyes searched the sky and focused on a familiar figure falling from a gigantic hole newly formed in the castle tower. 

“No! Lyndon,” Jes yelled as he took a small step.  Before the thief could act a realization hit him,
the figure of his good friend and commander was not falling, but levitating
.  A movement caused Jes to refocus on the hole.  In the recently vacant window stood a tall man completely concealed by a dark cloak.  The cloak was still in the wind.  A memory or story tugged at Jes’ mind, something that the woman had recently told him. The thought was pushed aside, when the sky turned green.  A bombardment of what seemed to be balls of fire slammed into the gaping hole.  To the thief’s amazement the man in the tower was incredibly fast, and was able to dodge every attack.  Jes knew it was his time to act,
it was not going to end like this
, he thought; and he set off towards the battle.

………………………………………………………………..

The mage burst through the beautiful window, showering the empty street with shards of glass. Pleased with himself and the ease of victory the assailant waited patiently for the satisfying thud.  The thud of a falling body to signify the end of its short journey.  Moments passed and no sound followed.  Turning, the dark clad figure peered through the broken portal.  The intended victim of a five story fall was staring back at the beast, causing it to pause.  For all the centuries the creature had never a reason to truly fear death until now. The mage was floating just outside the shattered window, hundreds of feet above the street. A brilliant glow cast an eerie shade of green on the shade’s normally dark face.  The unnatural illumination originated from flames covering the mage’s arms, licking the air, searching for something to consume.  

Anger burned throughout the spell-caster’s body, fueling the flames.  Rubble cascaded to the streets below as he sent balls of flame smashing into the once pristine tower.  A thick cloud of dust settled over the warriors, as more and more frantic destruction of the walls continued; the particles clogged the air causing it to become extremely dense.

From a lack of vision or of stamina, the senseless bombardment of the castle halted, and normal light was allowed to return.  Before the dust had a chance to completely settle the evil beast burst from the rubble slamming into the suspended Berserker.  The two figures spiraled down, twisting and turning, trying to gain the upper hand.  A witness could have described the spectacle like the mating ritual of eagles.  Twisting and turning, parting just in time to safely return to their vast sanctuary in the air. The only difference in this battle was the two fighters did not separate and return to the air instead they crashed violently into the stone streets.

After finding the ground, the Witch Queen’s Favorite instantly bounced to his feet, drawing a thin blade and balanced the rapier in one hand.  The mage was much slower to rise, gripping a lamp post for support. Two paths had converged at this moment; both knew one would end.    

The air was still for a moment as the two stared, each waiting for the other to act.  The beast moved first lunging at the mage’s seemingly injured side.  Lyndon easily sidestepped the attack, grabbing the assailants cloak as he passed, causing it to burst into flames.  Awkwardly the man shrugged off the protective cloth, leaving a small smoking mass on the street.  The creature beneath the cloak was far more intimidating than before:  the being wore magnificent leather armor unlike anything Lyndon had ever seen.  The creature had the form of a man, but its skin was incredibly pale.  His skin was also emanating a blue hue.  The sun’s rays did not reflect off the man’s skin and no shadow followed the figure.  The long internal battle within the man had finally ended, the shade had won. 

The evil spirit lurched to the side away from a stray burst of flame originating from the berserkers finger tips.  It attacked far less carelessly as before; but with much greater speed.  The shadow creature slashed and stabbed at the mage causing irritating scratches and tiny cuts, but still was unable to land a great wound.  Anger swelled within the mage, his movements became slower and clumsier.  More and more strikes found their mark, leaving Lyndon bleeding from countless cuts.

Glints of light flashed off the shadow’s sword as it slashed through the air, swift and meticulous; counter attacks originating from the mage did little to tame the evil.  Flames smashed into buildings and gardens, leaving holes large enough for a man to walk through, the street was quickly turning into a war zone. 

Just a short distance away ran a man with a purpose, a quest to save a friend.

…………………..………………………………………………

Looking over the scene, Jes could see Lyndon kneeling on the ground holding what seemed to be a deep wound in his thigh. Standing over him was a man made of shadows, more than flesh.  In stride the thief produced a small dagger, the same he had used to dispense with the guards earlier.  Without hesitating Jes launched the steel weapon, lodging it deep in the beast’s back.  From shear exertion of throwing the dagger, the thief lost his balance and rolled to a stop ending in a crouch. 

The beast turned in surprise to see the new enemy with sword in hand.  In his mind, he weighed the new threat compared to the one bleeding on the ground.  It decided the thief would be an easy match, even though the mage could barely move.  Without hesitation, he attacked the newcomer.

Blow after blow the thief blocked and countered each attack, swinging his short sword in time with the shadow beast.  Moments passed slowly and neither man yielded.  Surprised by the creatures’ stamina and skill with a blade, Jes renewed his attack with greater recklessness. 

Jes could feel his body, draining, which was wrong, he could not tire this creature.

The shade pulled on the mortal man, draining him of his vital life force. With each second that passed the rogue allowed more and more attacks to slip by his defenses.  Finally from a shear loss of blood, Jes’ body failed and collapsed to the ground.

Renewed strength filled the beast, the strength that he had not felt in years.  He surveyed his wounded and suffering prey, at his mercy, but which to kill first?  Which one had the most power that he would enjoy consuming?