A World Apart (31 page)

Jake followed the guard in stunned silence.  He had never been told to stay away from anyone; it was most definitely an odd feeling.

As he was crossing the palace grounds to the gates, he saw Marcus standing with a group of other young nobles.  When Marcus noticed Jake, he gave him a self-satisfied smile and a mocking wave.  Jake gritted his teeth in frustration, but did not say anything as the guard led him to the gates.

He crossed the courtyard in a huff, thinking dark thoughts about Marcus, wishing he had a way to wipe the smirk off that asshole's face.  He moved fast, not paying attention to his surroundings, wrestling with his emotions.  As he walked off some of his tension, he could feel his anger level come down.  As he calmed down, his thoughts returned to Keria, especially remembering that dress.

As he turned down an alley that he used as a shortcut, Jake was lost in his thoughts of what had happened at the palace.  He wished he had leaned in to kiss Keria, especially since the king was clear that he would never have the opportunity again.  He gave a huge sigh, regretting the missed chance.

He had just a moment's warning, a sense that something was not right, when he heard the footsteps of someone rapidly approaching him from behind.  He turned just in time to see a masked man closing with him, a metal capped club in his hand, raised to strike.

Jake dove, throwing himself to the side as the club whistled past.  Tucking his shoulder, he rolled over and came back to his feet, drawing his sword as he did.  His attacker was quick, already adjusting to Jake's position, club swinging again.  Jake was forced to leap away, ducking to avoid the club again, trying to keep his swordpoint towards the attacker as Dominic taught him.

As his attacker came at him again, Jake stepped to the side, ducking as he swung his sword.  He felt a sudden tug as the blade made contact, hearing the man gasp.  This time, however, he was not fast enough to avoid the club as he felt sudden pain blossom as it clipped him on the side of his head.

Jake's knees suddenly felt wobbly as he spun to face his opponent.  He was lightheaded and could feel warm blood flowing down his head, past his ear and onto his neck.  He forced himself to focus, trying to will steadiness back into his body.

His attacker was a few feet away, clutching his side with his free hand, blood staining his hand and clothes.  He was more cautious now, watching Jake's sword as Jake struggled to keep it on him.  Jake drew in some deep breaths to settle his legs, as he tried to anticipate the next move.

His attacker started to move to his side, club weaving, trying to get past Jake's sword, when sudden shouts came from the end of the alleyway.  His attacker looked past Jake, spat out a curse, and turned and ran, still clutching his side.  He made it to the main street, turning and disappearing from sight.

Relieved, his body suddenly shaking from what just happened, Jake fell to his knees, bracing himself on his sword, the point pressing against the road.  He turned his head to see two soldiers running up to him, swords drawn.  They came up to him, asking what had happened, eyes roaming up and down the alley for any threats.

Reassured by their presence, he told them that he was Dominic's apprentice and had been attacked.  Hearing Dominic's name, the soldiers quickly offered assistance.  They agreed that one would take him to the Temple while the other would find the area's watch captain to inform him about the attack.  They helped Jake back to his feet, allowing him to sheath his sword while the one taking him to the Temple threw Jake's arm over his shoulder to support him.

Shortly, Jake found himself in the healing clinic at the Temple.  A middle-aged female cleric, who had a kind demeanor, smiling and reassuring Jake, attended to his wound.  After the healing, Jake was sitting on the bench, allowing an apprentice cleric to wipe away the blood, when Dominic came in, face stony, followed closely by Hailyn.

"What happened, boy?"  Dominic demanded, grasping Jake's chin, looking closely at Jake's face.  Hailyn told the other apprentice to leave, pulled Dominic's hand from Jake and, sitting close, took over cleaning him up.

Jake told him about the attack, having to repeat the events over and over again as Dominic asked questions, tried to get every little detail.  Despite his dispassionate questioning, Jake did see something like approval in Dominic's eyes when he mentioned wounding his attacker.

"You survived; that is what is important."  Dominic said, after he finished his questions.  He stood there for a moment, hand gripping his sword.  "We need to work on your aggression, though.  You missed a couple opportunities to take the advantage."

"That can wait, Dominic."  Hailyn said tartly, looking at him disapprovingly.  She continued to gently wipe away the remaining blood.  "Jake needs to get out of these soiled clothes and rest."

Dominic looked down at her, an amused look in his eyes.  "Whatever you say, Sister."  He said mockingly, giving her a little bow.  Hailyn flushed at the remark, but did not answer.

"I'm going to find Jonas."  Dominic stated, heading towards the door.  He called another apprentice over and sent her to get Norlan.  He turned back to Jake.  "We need to discuss this.  Wait here until I return."

...

Captain Stradford stopped his horse near the edge of the woods, looking down at the meadow, a light green oasis in the wooded hills, the grass rich and thick as the sunlight danced across it, dappled in the shadows of the clouds passing above.  It was just as Martis had described it.

Stradford had grown close to the man over the last several weeks, meeting him before and after duty.  He did not have many close friends, so it was nice to have a male confidant.  After Stradford had mentioned the tensions with his wife, Martis had suggested that a picnic away from the city may be what they needed.  He said he had passed through this meadow when he got turned around in the woods and it was a very peaceful place.

He glanced over at his shoulder to watch his wife and young daughter ride up on their other horse.  His wife, a slender and pretty woman with long brown hair, seemed pleased by the choice, a happy smile on her face, her brown eyes sparkling.  His eight-year-old daughter, whom he felt took after his wife, was restless and fidgeting, clearly ready to get off the horse.

Hopeful that the rest of the day would continue his wife's good mood, Stradford climbed off his horse, tying the reins to a nearby tree and went to help his daughter and wife down.  After securing their horse, he helped his wife set up the picnic blanket and lay out the meal while their daughter played nearby, laughing and running about.  Stradford ran out after her, playing and chasing her around until his wife called out that the food was ready.

They slowly ate their meal, enjoying the beautiful day.  After finishing the meal,  Stradford sat listening to his daughter tell a story about her day in school while his wife smiled happily as she put the plates and utensils into a bag to take back to wash.  After their daughter said something that caused Stradford to laugh loudly, his wife glanced over at him, clearly glad that he was spending time with their daughter.  Stradford was watching her face, appreciating her beauty, feeling the tension fading between them, when he saw her look past him, eyes going wide with horror, a scream bursting from her throat.

Stradford started to leap up when rough hands grabbed him, wrestling with him to pin his arms behind his back, tie them with a rope and pull him to his feet.  He saw several rough-looking men in dark leather pants and shirts, with rings of metal sewn in, armed with swords and daggers.  They all had that slightly crazed look in the eyes that he had always been told about: half-men!  They had him secured; his only weapon was his sword that was hanging uselessly from the saddle on his horse.

They had seized his daughter and wife as well, their wails of terror ringing across the hills.  The man who had his daughter simply put his hand over her mouth to muffle her cries.  Another slapped his wife across the face to stop her.

To Stradford's surprise, his wife lashed out with her leg, kicking the man in the groin.  He staggered back, holding himself and cursing, while the others laughed.

"You shouldn't have done that."  The man rasped at Stradford's wife, as he recovered and drew his dagger.  "Now I will make you scream for real."  The man advanced on her, murder in his eyes.  "Hold her still."  The man told the others holding her.

Stradford cried out, renewing his struggle against his captors, desperate to get free.  He was struck on the back of his head, causing him to collapse to his knees, helpless as the man brought the dagger up to his wife's face, the point next to her eye.

Suddenly, a bolt of dark energy streaked past Stradford, its passing sounding as if the very air was ripping apart, coming from behind him, striking the man threatening his wife.  It blasted him away from her, surrounding him, consuming him in its dark fire.  The man screamed briefly, a cry full of agony, then collapsed into a smoldering heap.  The horses reared and cried out, struggling to get free of their restraints.

"I told you idiots that they were not to be harmed.  If I have to explain that again, I will leave your corpses here for the crows."  A cold, inhuman voice said from behind Stradford.  The sound of it chilled him to the core.  "Bring them into the trees."

Stradford was half-dragged and half-carried into the shade of the trees.  He was thrown to the ground, his wife pushed down next to him.  As he tried to rise, he heard that terrible voice say.  "Bring me the girl."  Stradford could hear the gibbering terror coming from his daughter.  He forced himself to get up to his knees.

Standing a few feet away from him was a short figure in a cowled robe, the cowl thrown back to reveal its scaly face.  Stradford felt as if his insides had turned to water, terror rising up as his mind screamed "Demon!".

The demon was holding his daughter with one of its clawed hands.  She looked at her father in terror, her wide eyes crying out for him to rescue her, wordless noises coming from her mouth.

"You are the night commander of the West Gate, are you not?"  The demon asked Stradford, fixing him with those black eyes.

"Y...y...es, I am."  Stradford replied, shuddering, his teeth chattering from fear.

"Do you know of the boy that trains with the warrior Dominic?"

"Only what everyone knows.  I have never met him."  Stradford replied, trying to fight down his terror.

"We want that boy.  You will help us get him."  The demon said, eyes boring into Stradford's.

"I don't know how I can."  Stradford stated.  His concern for his family overwhelmed him.  "I will make an attempt to capture him, if you let my family go."

"I don't need you to capture him.  We will do that ourselves."  The demon replied, a cruel smile on its face.  "All I need you to do is let us into the city.  If you do that, I will make sure your family stays unharmed and are returned to you."

"You are asking me to betray my people."  Stradford said bitterly, torn between his loyalty and his family.

"We have no interest in your people."  The demon said.  "We only want the boy.  You will simply open the gate after dark so a small group can sneak in and take the boy.  Once we have him, I swear to you that we will leave your city in peace."

"I'll need time to make this happen."  Stradford said, mind racing to think of a way out of this.

"You have three days."  The demon said, gesturing for his bindings to be cut.  Stradford was hauled to his feet.  "Just remember that we have your family.  You do not want me to lift my protection of them."  It ran a claw gently across his daughter's throat, almost a caress.  "Do you understand?"

Stradford could only nod.

...

Martis threw his bucket of water on the paving stones in the alley, watching the water wash the evidence down into the sewer drain, while he heard Ranech, wheezing, squat and fasten the door to the secret compartment on the underside of the wagon.  He disliked doing physical labor, but sometimes he did not have a choice.  With a sigh, he headed back over to the water trough to get another bucket.

He had sent Frader to meet with the demon's followers to see if his hard work paid off, along with a message about what he had learned from the other apprentice smith, as well as the boy's trip to the palace.  He had been a bit surprised by that, considering Dominic's well-know distaste for the royals.

Nothes had told them about it when he returned, clutching the wound from his foolish attempt to take the boy.  Martis was furious that Nothes had disobeyed his order to only follow the boy and report on his movements.  Nothes had chafed at that restriction, constantly arguing that the rewards would be greater if they were the ones to deliver the boy.  Martis knew that to try and take the boy here in the city would only bring unwanted attention; he planned to be a supplier of information only, not a hunted man.

Martis kept his anger hidden while dressing Nothes' wound, assuring him that he appreciated intuitive.  Knowing Frader's fondness for Nothes, Martis had waited a good thirty minutes to make sure he was gone before he helped Nothes into the alley, telling him that he was sending him into hiding, then watched as Ranech cut his throat.

Martis still could not believe the idiot had come back here.  If he had simply gone to ground, sending Martis a message, he might still be alive.  Nothes had known that Martis did not want anything to connect him to the boy.

Martis threw the water on remaining blood still on the ground, making sure that it carried to the drain.  Ranech finished securing the wagon, then climbed on, setting the wagon into motion.  Martis wiped his brow as he watched Ranech depart.  Ranech did have his uses; he would dispose of the body far from the city.

Martis made sure all of the blood was gone, then went to sit in the shade of the doorway.  He found himself nodding off as he leaned back in the chair, visions of riches filling his mind.  Soon, he was snoring away.

He came awake as the sound of hooves ringing on the stones got louder.  The light was low, so he estimated it was late afternoon, near sunset.  He stuck his head out to see Frader coming up the alley to where Martis was sitting.