Dark Soul Silenced - Part One (11 page)

They made slow progress, slowed by the flickering light of the lanterns and by Gerome who was tied into his saddle.  After thirty or forty minutes one of the guards plucked up the courage to approach.

“
Ser Josef, we would be better stopping for the night and resting.  Once the sun is up we will be able to travel far faster.”

“
I know.  We needed some distance from the village though.  This will do.  Two men need to watch Ser Gerome, the rest should gather wood for a fire.  Lots of wood, we will need a large fire.”

“
Yes Ser.”

Josef heard the relief in the man’s voice.  He felt it too, travelling at night in these parts was dangerous — even with the protection they had.  Dismounting he walked over to where Gerome had been lowered to the ground with his legs once again tied.  Josef removed the gag.  Gerome said nothing, just stared at Josef with hatred in his eyes.

“Why Gerome?” Josef asked softly.  “Tell me why.  What made you step off of the righteous path and descend into darkness?”

“
Darkness?” Gerome spat.  “Darkness?  You have no idea what you speak of.  I carry no darkness inside, the Orb shows that.  I am more pure than any of you.  I sense darkness that even the Orb cannot find.”

“
So that girl carried a darkness the Orb couldn’t find?”

“
Yes!  Her and the others.  It called to me, putting ideas in my head.  Disgusting thoughts to have for one so young.  The darkness knows you see, it knows how powerful I am and sought to bring me down.  I saw through it every time though, each time those thoughts entered my mind I knew where they came from.  I knew their source and I pounced on it.  I took those poor creatures and put them to the question, then I gave them the final release.”

Josef felt his stomach lurch.  The Order had strict rules.  The questioner was never the person who delivered the final release — other than under exceptional circumstances in the field.

“How many Gerome?  How many did you find without telling the Order?”

“
Twenty-three.  I have had to dedicate myself to the task for many years, but I found twenty-three servants of the darkness that everyone else had overlooked.  Found them, forced them to confess then gave their souls the final release.”

Now Josef felt like he would throw up.  Twenty-three?  How had Gerome kept that secret from the Order?  Had he?  A nasty suspicion formed in Josef’s mind.  The Prefect had clearly harboured suspicions about Gerome.  Had he known?  Was his concern not what Gerome had been doing but rather that Gerome might be exposed during the journey?  That he might bring the Order into disrepute?

Josef forced his mind back onto the immediate problem.  Gerome was slowing them down, would require a guard and would complicate things anywhere they stayed.  Even if he was gagged so no one knew he was of the Order, how would they explain carting a captive along?

Sending Gerome back to Hammersgate under guard was out of the question.  It would take at least three guards for the journey to be safe, seriously depleting Josef’s force.

With a sigh he realised there was only one option, the option he had been preparing himself for.  Heart heavy he removed the blessed bracers and necklace from Gerome.  Gerome’s sword had already been taken from him.  He felt the eyes of the guards holding Gerome upon him, they knew what was coming.

“
Ser Gerome, you have strayed far from the path of the Almighty.  While your soul is untainted by the dark power it has still fallen into darkness.  By your own admission you have broken the laws you swore to uphold, you have taken the lives of innocents.  Do you have anything to say in your defence?”

“
Fool!  Idiot!  You have no idea!  They served the darkness, every one of them admitted it in the end.  I saved them!  I saved their souls!  You and the others are blind.  Sleepwalking into the trap the dark powers have set.  Only I can save you.  Only I can…”

Gerome stared in amazement at Josef’s sword buried in his chest, then raised his gaze to meet Josef’s.  He opened his mouth to speak but the blaze of life faded from his eyes and he slumped to the floor.  Josef pulled his blade free, heart heavy with regret.  He looked up at the guards.

“You know Ser Gerome and I differed in our views on many matters, but I never imagined he had strayed so far from the true path.  By his own admission twenty-three innocents died at his hands, twenty-three that the Purity Orb had shown to be free of darkness.  Had we not intervened tonight the innkeeper’s granddaughter would have been number twenty-four.  Our mission is too important to be slowed, and we could not spare the men to take him back in chains.  I had no choice.  Yet I wish I had.

Now we must ensure the body cannot be found, or if found cannot be identified.  The trust people rightly place in the Order could be fatally damaged otherwise.  The tide is nearly out.  We will build a pyre near the water’s edge, and fill his clothes with rocks.  The fire will hide his identity and with luck the sea will take the body.”

“Yes Ser,” answered one guard.  “And Ser… you did the right thing.”

“
Thank you.”

Josef sent the remaining guards to help gather firewood.  He stayed with Gerome’s corpse, standing silent vigil over the dead man.  Somehow leaving the body alone in the night felt wrong, even if it was just for a few minutes.

Soon the pyre was built.  Josef helped carry Gerome’s body, felt it was his duty.  Despite the man’s crimes Josef was determined to see that the body was treated with respect.  Judgement and punishment for Gerome were now in the hands of the Almighty.

The pyre caught quickly, flames and smoke obscuring the body.  Josef and the guards stood watch for ten minutes then, confident the fire had rendered Gerome unrecognisable, Josef said a brief prayer and led the guards away.  They mounted and moved off down the beach in search of a campsite out of sight of the pyre.  None of them looked back even once.

Chapter Thirteen

Rafael stood in the darkness, allowing his senses to play over the inn.  He could sense those inside but he had to be careful.  Some of those inside were dangerous, even to him, as the Chosen had learnt to their cost.  They called themselves the Order, a term Rafael’s kin refused to use — referring to them as Prickers instead, a slang term older even than Rafael.  As a group they could be dangerous.  He had no desire to test their strength yet.

Besides, it seemed unlikely to be chance that so many of the Prickers were in the same area as the Cursed One.  Were they and Rafael hunting the same prey?  If so, did they seek to destroy or ally with the Cursed One?

He had only been waiting a few minutes when he sensed an increase in activity within the inn.  At the sound of bolts being drawn and locks undone he drifted farther into the darkness, while keeping the inn’s door in sight.  Unlocking any outside door at night was almost unheard of.  Unlocking an inn’s door was exceptionally unusual.

A group of Prickers emerged, two dragging someone who was bound and gagged.  Rafael was intrigued to see that the bound man wore the same clothes as the others.  He was another Pricker.  Rafael reached out carefully, trying to reach the bound man’s mind.  He couldn’t do it.  Something blocked his reach with an invisible barrier, one that was almost painful to touch.  Rafael drew back again.  There was more than one way to gain information.

The Prickers were soon mounted and headed off to the north, making their way slowly along the night road by lantern light.  Rafael had no trouble following them.  He could match even a galloping horse for speed, and the party barely moved above walking pace as they struggled to see the path by the dim light.  Rafael had no such problem, his excellent night sight meaning he could see the ground clearly.  Just one more sign of his superiority over those he stalked.

Rafael followed until the party stopped.  The men dismounted and many went towards the forest to search for wood.  Rafael easily avoided the tiny pools of light their lanterns cast.  The bound man was guarded by two Prickers, while a third removed the gag and started to question him.  The questioner carried an air of command about him.  Rafael listened to their conversation, intrigued by the bound man.  A Pricker who had fallen to his own dark desires, what a delight.

Rafael watched as the prisoner was stripped of bracers and a necklace.  He reached out towards the prisoner hopefully, hugely pleased when he found the earlier barriers were gone.  Silently he started to wrap the prisoner in a web of power, weaving it around and through the man, letting it infiltrate his body and his mind.

He wasn’t surprised when the Pricker’s leader plunged his sword into the prisoners chest, and he was more than prepared.  As the spark of life left the dying man Rafael tightened the web of power he had built, trapping the dying man’s soul, binding it to the dying body.  For the moment he kept the soul bound but incapable of movement, not wanting the other Prickers to realise what was happening.

The body was settled upon a large pile of branches which was then lit.  The flames soon started to claw at the dead body.  Rafael let them take hold, unable to resist, but he soon used his power to shield the body while feeding the flames — ensuring none of those watching could see that the body wasn’t burning as expected.  Satisfied with their work, they mounted their horses and rode off along the coastal path, not looking back once.

If they’d looked back at the right moment they would have seen something tumble off the pyre, trailing flames behind it, and stagger into the water.  The hiss as the flames were extinguished was drowned out by the crash of waves.  After that even if they had looked back they would have seen nothing.  Their eyes couldn’t have picked out the dark shape striding awkwardly out of the waves.

Rafael’s could though.  He watched the figure stagger up the beach, still struggling to force its limbs to move, to the edge of the trees where Rafael waited.  Once there the slightly singed figure collapsed to its knees.

Rafael reached out with both hands, taking the dead Pricker’s head between them and concentrating as he sucked in memories and emotions.  First he learnt about the dead man’s identity, including his name — Gerome. 

Next he probed for more details of Gerome’s self appointed crusade, revelling in the memories he uncovered.  He found a wonderfully divided personality.  Part of Gerome truly believed that he had been in the right, that he had been freeing the girls souls and protecting the innocent.  Another part, well hidden even from Gerome himself, had delighted in the pain he could inflict, in the feeling of power it gave him.  Rafael felt a pang of regret that it was too late to turn Gerome.  Gerome would have made an excellent addition to the ranks of the Chosen.

Still shivering with pleasure at Gerome’s memories, Rafael probed again  This time he sought knowledge of the Cursed One, the one who Rafael had tried to turn but who had somehow gone astray.  Surprisingly there was nothing.  Gerome had no idea the Cursed One even existed.

Curious now, if a little disappointed, Rafael trawled Gerome’s memories once more, this time focusing on what caused them to be in the area.  The answer sent all thoughts of the Cursed One flying from Rafael’s mind.  The girl!  The power she had!  To manage such healing while so young, she truly had great potential.  If he could take the power from her in the right way, and at the right time and place, then he would become hugely more powerful.  Powerful enough to face down those in the Citadel and take his rightful place as their leader.

He would need to travel quickly and gather a force.  It was unlikely he would reach the girl before daybreak, which in turn meant the Prickers would probably reach her before he could.  Turning he set off quickly.  What remained of Gerome stood and followed as quickly as it could.  As he ran Rafael stretched out his awareness, reaching out to those of his blood children that were close enough to summon.

Sarah felt heavy in her heart as they left Muddy Creek.  For one evening she had managed to forget their plight, forget the risks they faced — including that of Daniel, striding along beside them.  For a brief time she had been surrounded by friends with her loving husband and beautiful child beside her.

Wonderful as that had been, it made the return to reality hurt that much more.  Mary still had the dark taint that had been laid on her soul.  Jon still seemed distant, difficult to talk to, unable to understand Sarah’s concerns.  And beside them still walked the mystery that was Daniel.  Despite his assurances Sarah was certain he was seeped in magic, which meant his soul was certain to be heavily tainted by darkness.

Lastly she worried about herself.  Where had Mary’s power come from?  Was it from her, somehow passed on without her even knowing?  And if not then was her own soul safe?  Would spending so much time around others who were tainted eventually mean she too was struck down?

The others were in high spirits, refreshed by the previous evenings chance to relax.  Mary in particular was full of energy, rushing ahead to study every interesting plant or rock that caught her eye, then charging around Sarah and the others in big loops — pretending to be a horse, a bird, a butterfly or whatever else had caught her attention.

Jon smiled at her antics, but for Sarah they plunged a spike into her heart.  This was the child she knew and loved.  How long could this side of Mary survive the darkness that had latched onto her soul?

As the morning wore on she made up her mind to enquire, carefully, at the next village for anyone that could help.  Most villages had someone who filled the role of preacher or pastor, someone who could seek the Almighty’s blessing.  Just how much should she reveal of Mary’s problem though?.  Not much she felt.  A small village was unlikely to be tolerant of such a person in their midst.

Thoroughly miserable despite the bright sun shining down Sarah continued to place one foot in front of the other.

The bright sunlight didn’t last.  By mid morning dark storm clouds had blown in, closely matching Sarah’s mood.  The first drops were falling as they rounded a bend in the trail and saw Southcott, only a few minutes farther down the path.  Despite the prospect of shelter Sarah’s heart sank.  Southcott was tiny.  Other than the reasonably sized inn there were only four houses.  The chances of finding anyone to help Mary with a blessing were remote indeed.

The inn itself was mostly grubby and poorly kept, though the main structure and the doors and shutters used to seal the place at night were in good repair.  The innkeeper was an unpleasant old man who could barely be bothered to speak to them.  The money he asked, up front of course, was extortionate.  He told them the other houses were all owned by his family, so they could pay up or sleep outside.  They paid up.

Lunch was cold ham with stale bread, chased down with weak beer.  Sarah had wanted water but one look at the murky contents she’d received had changed her mind.  The storm hit fully while they ate, turning the day dark and whipping up the sea outside. 

After lunch Jon sat in an armchair by the fire and Mary sat in his lap, leaning against his chest.  Soon both fell asleep as the warmth, full stomachs and long days travelling caught up with them.  Daniel sat nearby, staring into the fire and deep in thought. 

Sarah pulled on her coat and went outside, walking down the stony shingle beach until she neared the crashing waves.  The fierce wind flung rain and salt spray into her face, masking the tears pouring down her cheeks.  She welcomed the rain that soaked her despite her coat, the wind that chilled her to the core.  She welcomed the numb feeling spreading from her chest, replacing the pain and heartache she’d been wrestling with.

There was no conscious decision.  She simply found herself moving towards the pounding sea.  Having started to move she had no desire to stop.  It was a relief.  All her worries would be swept away.

She hardly felt the chill of the sea, already almost numb from the cold.  She managed a few steps before the next wave crashed ashore.  Taller than she was, it sent her flying.  The water closed over her head and she lost all sense of direction.  Shocked from her numbness she started to struggle, just managing to find her feet and grab a breath of air before the next huge wave smashed her down again.

This time she was tumbled repeatedly, first by the wave then by the receding water as it flowed back out.  She couldn’t find her footing, couldn’t even tell where the surface was.  She was aware of more waves arriving by the way her body was thrown around but she was suspended in a darkened world.  No matter how much she was tumbled and how much she flailed around she didn’t feel the solidity of the seabed or the release of air.  She was trapped in the water, being pulled farther out to sea by the moment.

She realised she was going to die.  The pressure to take a breath was building in her chest, quickly becoming painful.  She didn’t know how much longer she could keep her mouth clamped shut, how long it would be until her body forced her to take a breath.  Her vision was starting to darken at the edges.

Fighting down panic she tried to kick out, to get to the surface, without knowing where it was.  She knew it was hopeless, but she had to try.  In that moment more than anything else she wanted to live, wanted to hold Mary and Jon one more time.  She didn’t care what dark spell they were under, they were still the people she loved more than life itself.

She couldn’t find the surface.  Her struggles grew weaker, the pressure in her chest was almost unbearable.  As the darkness swept in further she felt her body about to take a breath.  At that point it would be all over she knew.

Suddenly something grabbed her by the shoulder and behind her neck.  She gasped in surprise, just as something pressed itself over her mouth.  Wonderfully sweet air was gently blown into her mouth, pushing back the darkness clouding her vision and her mind.  She realised that someone had taken hold of her, that whoever it was had breathed their own breath into her.

Now whoever it was started to move, and move quickly.  Water pressed heavily against her as she was shoved through it.  The breath had ended.  She desperately wanted another but her rescuer had pulled away.  Jamming her mouth closed she focused on not breathing, on holding on just a little longer.

Now the pressure on her wasn’t constant, the water battered her from all directions.  She realised it was the crash of the giant waves and the water draining back afterwards.  Then, for a moment, her head was clear of the water.  She opened her mouth to pull down a deep breath only to have a hand clamped over it.  Almost immediately a wave crashed over them, completely submerging her again.  What seemed an eternity later her head broke free of the water again and the hand was removed.  She struggled to breath, finally choking down a breath.  Then a second and a third.  She realised she was completely clear of the water now, that they must be clear of the waves.  Blinking frantically she managed to focus through the pelting rain to see her rescuer.  Somehow she wasn’t surprised to see that it was Daniel.

Daniel stared at Sarah for a moment, relieved to see her breathing and focusing on him.  Whilst sat staring into the inn’s fire he’d felt her terror, and the sense of being trapped in the water.  Rushing out he had nearly flown down the beach, smashing the waves aside when he reached the water.  Only his powers had let him find Sarah.  She had been thirty or forty paces out to sea and well under the surface.