Fifthwind (9 page)

Mason
shook his head defiantly, "No sir."

Ben
said, "You're wasting your breath. He'll never change."

Tad
looked at Ben. "It seems like only yesterday you were a fresh new
recruit running around my camp like a scared puppy, trying to do
anything you could to keep Mason happy."

Ben
grinned, "Sergeant Corde had the reputation of a hard-nosed bastard
who ate new men for breakfast. I like to think of my efforts to
please him as mere survival."

Ben
recalled the day he had first arrived under the command of Captain
Haddaway. He had heard there was a stubborn old Sergeant who was
virtually impossible to please. This had proven to be true and he had
spent most of his first few months frightened of the old soldier.
Everything he did fell short of the Mason's approval. There was just
no pleasing him.

Mason
laughed, "But, in the end, you managed to outscore us all."

Mason
had been very watchful over his men; it was his job to prepare them
as well as he could and to keep them alive. Despite his outward ill
temper, he truly cared about them all. He had noticed a genuine skill
in Ben that exceeded anything he had ever seen before. Not only was
Ben the best swordsman Mason had ever encountered, but Ben also
possessed an unusual feel for his surroundings. So much so, that
Mason brought the young soldier to the attention of his Captain.

Tad
had agreed that Ben was something of a prodigy and had used his
influence to persuade a member of the Royal Court to sponsor Ben to
train under the Royal Swordmasters. Ben excelled in his training and
quickly became the youngest officer in the history of the Royal
Kreggorian Guard. He owed it all to the kind eye of a bad-tempered
Sergeant and a Captain who put his men above himself.

Caught
up in good memories, Ben had to remind himself of his shameful
discharge from that elite corps. The Royal Guard was a burning wound
in his heart. A past he would thankfully forget if he were able.

A
slight movement in the corner of the small room caught Ben's eye. He
turned and saw a man in a gray robe standing casually in the corner.
So casually, in fact, that Ben almost thought nothing of it and
turned his attention back to his friends only to think twice and
quickly look back. The corner was empty; the three men were alone.
Ben scanned the room to confirm that there was no one else present.

"Did
either of you see that?" Ben said half to himself.

"What?"
asked Tad, looking around the room.

Ben
pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "Nothing, I'm
probably just tired."

Ben
sat silently and listened as Mason and Tad reminisced. The two men
were fond of each other's company and almost forgot about Ben
altogether. He did not mind at all and excused himself from the table
to let the men catch up. The stories would continue all night and he
would not deny Mason the opportunity to relive those memories with
the man he admired most in all the world. He quietly made his way to
the door and stepped outside.

It
was now dusk and the rain was coming down light but steady. A weak
yellow glow over the hill signaled that the watch-fires had been lit
and an evening of chaos had begun once more. Ben moved to the edge of
the house and stood close to the wall under the eaves to keep dry.
The woods behind the house seemed alive with the rhythmic tapping of
rain on leaves, and the creaking of limbs bending in the increasing
wind.

He
was almost enjoying the evening shower, when he suddenly felt that he
was being watched. In the gloomy darkness of the forest, just beyond
the limits of his vision, he was sure a pair of unseen eyes
penetrated him. He strained his sight into the shadows and for a
fleeting moment thought he saw the outline of a man standing in the
midst of the trees. The loose, gray cloak of the figure moved gently
in the breeze, no face could be seen beneath the watcher's sagging
hood. Ben could hear his pulse in his own ears as he backed away
toward the door and in a near panic, he fell backward through it.
Finding himself back inside, he got to his feet and latched the door,
then slid the brace into place.

His
entrance had gone unnoticed. Mason and Tad were still talking, only
it was now evident that they had moved on to stronger drink. Each man
held a frothy brew and laughed loudly about some story of days gone
by. Ben moved to the fire and warmed his hands over the flames,
taking the time to calm himself. Perhaps it was only his nerves from
so many weeks on the road, surely there was no reason to be alarmed.
Even if there was a man standing in the trees, there was likely a
simple explanation. After all, night had only just fallen, and there
were others who lived in the area.

He
didn't want to interrupt, but he was getting a little impatient,
there were too many urgent questions that needed answering. He waited
for an opening in the conversation and decided it was time to get
down to business.

"How
has the operation been going? It looks like the roads around here are
as dangerous as ever. Any progress yet?"

Tad
said, "Not too bad, I've had a few setbacks, but things are going
well. When I set out to toll the merchants in exchange for guaranteed
safe passage on the east-west road, I had no idea what I was getting
myself into."

"We've
heard that you've experienced a lot of losses," said Mason.
"Nothing that more time and more men can't handle."

Tad
stood and shrugged his shoulders, "I've lost a few. Any loss is
unfortunate, but you can't keep them from leaving if they want to
go."

Ben
pressed, "Left? We heard they've been killed."

Tad
nodded, "There were those who wouldn't follow orders and were over
anxious." He rubbed the back of his neck. "That kind of soldier
won't last long. Isn't that right Mason?"

Mason
agreed, "I know the type."

Ben
moved to the wall beside the fireside and looked over a pack that
appeared to have been crumpled there for months and the blade leaning
against the hearth had spider webs hanging from it. "So...
everything is going well...that's good to hear. Mason and I are ready
to help in any way we can."

Tad
straightened. "As it turns out, I won't be needing your help after
all. We have things well under control."

Ben
spun on his heel and addressed Tad harshly, "Well under control?
People are still dying out there. The townsfolk are scared, and no
one around here seems to trust you!"

Mason
interrupted, "Ben, if he says things are fine, then let it rest."

Tad
forced a smile through clenched teeth. "You have no idea what it's
been like out here, Ben. This isn't the soft, proper-mannered world
you have grown accustomed to—"
Tad stopped and looked at him. "Why are you all wet?"

Ben
indicated the door, "I stepped outside for some air."

Tad
bolted up from his chair rushed to the door, nervously
double-checking the latch and brace. He then moved in a hasty blur to
the windows to ensure the shutters and boards were intact. When he
was finished, he turned and faced the odd stares of his two guests.
He opened his mouth and faltered, "Can't be too careful..." he
tried. "As you said, there are those who don't like me."

"Tad,"
Ben said with a raised, skeptical eyebrow. "Where are your men?"

Tad
looked around the empty room, and then blankly thumbed over his
shoulder. "I let them go into town."

"All
of them?" Mason asked, also with a tinge of suspicion lingering on
his voice. "If you've made enemies, then who's guarding the house?"
He cocked his head to one side and scratched behind his ear. "It's
not exactly the move I'd have made."

Tad's
patience was clearly wearing thin, "That's why I'm the Captain and
the one who makes the decisions around here, Sergeant!" Immediately
regretting his outburst, he corrected, "It's been a hard week, the
men have earned some relaxation."

Ben
looked around the room and noticed again the obvious lack of
furnishings. There was a fine layer of dust on almost every surface
and there was no indication that more than one person had ever
occupied the space.

Ben
asked, "How many men did you say you have?"

Tad
shrugged, "I don't know, maybe a dozen or so..."

"Or
so?" Mason scolded his old friend, "I don't know what has
happened here Captain, but you leave the house unprotected, you have
no idea how many men you have, and..." Mason swept an accusing
finger across the room, "by the looks of it, I'd say you have no
men at all!"

"What
has happened, Tad?" Ben stepped up closer to the man he had once
respected.

Tad
lowered his eyes and muttered, "Things have become a little...
complicated."

"Complicated?"
Mason asked. "You're just securing a road. It's just like in the
old days when we would secure a supply route to the front lines.
You've done this a hundred times. Besides, you're not even up against
an army, just a handful of thieves."

"It's
not the task that has become complicated, Mason." Tad moved back to
the table and drank long and deep from his brew. "It is the nature
of the enemy that has made that task impossible."

"And
the men?" Mason pried.

Tad
visibly snapped. "Alright! There aren't any men! Most of them were
killed and the others left. The operation was a complete failure, and
in the process I've made some powerful enemies!" He threw his cup
against the wall and spat, "You have no idea what I've been up
against. This damn place is crawling with..." he trailed off.

"What?"
Ben asked. "You've faced impossible odds before. Many times. The
Captain Haddaway we know would never give up and lock himself away."

Mason
held his chin high, "So the enemy is stronger than anticipated, the
woods are crawling with the scumbags. So, we'll get more men and
we'll fight harder! Those thieves will have to find somewhere else to
make their living."

Tad
turned slowly and shamefully did his best to meet his friend's eyes.
"I know you mean well, but you don't understand. The enemy is not
what you think."

"Tell
us, what has happened," Ben pleaded.

"I
can't speak of it... you must understand."

Mason
admonished, "I can't accept that you've buckled!"

Tad
slammed a fist into his open hand and turned to Mason, "This is not
a game Mason! We face no ordinary foe."

Ben
prodded, "What do you mean Tad? Who are they?"

Beads
of sweat sprouted on Tad's forehead and in the flickering firelight,
he began to shake. "I can't say anymore. They'll hear—"

Mason
slammed both fists down on the table violently. "Captain! If you
don't want my help then order me away! But, don't
ever
act
like a coward!"

Tad
averted his eyes once more. "I'm sorry Mason, I have failed you.
I've failed us all."

Ben
stood before Tad and gripped his arms, shaking him anxiously. "You
said they will hear. Who? Who will hear?"

"Maybe..."
Tad started, but then jerked his eyes toward the shuttered window as
if he had heard something outside. His face was a twisted mask of
fear and regret.

"They're
here."

"Who!"
Ben shouted.

The
door rattled as something tried to force it open. The entire house
seemed to vibrate as an unseen force pummeled the windows and doors.
Tad went rigid with terror and cried, "It's too late... I'm so
sorry."

CHAPTER EIGHT

The
explosive sound of splintering wood erupted through the cottage as
the door shattered. Shrouded by an enveloping cloud of dust, a large
creature stepped into the room. Without the slightest concern for
potential threat, it stood with impossible boldness and scanned the
area until its gaze came to rest on Tad. Seeing the trembling man, it
charged with inhuman speed across the short distance and buried him
into the back wall. In that corner, Tad's screams filled the air as
the beast tore him apart.

Ben
lurched forward to help, but a second creature crashed through a
nearby window and landed firmly in his path. In the dim light, Ben
confronted a large, disfigured beast. Part man, part animal, and like
the other, powerful and angry. Ben tried to sidestep around but the
creature matched the move, blocking his only chance to reach Tad.

The
dreadful beast appeared to smile menacingly at him as it raised two
blades above its head. Strangely, the weapons were attached to the
creature's forearms like some sort of modified gauntlet. The creature
also wore hammered plates of armor on its shoulders and back. Tufts
of wiry, brown hair sprouted between the armored joints like weeds
between cobblestones. Before Ben could get his own sword drawn, it
bore down on him.

Ben
stepped back and stumbled. He careened to his side and fell to the
floor behind an overturned footlocker and with no time to recover, he
braced for the impending crush of the beast on top of him. A vague
impression of blue rushed in from his right as Mason tackled the
beast and forced it away. Ben used the opportunity to roll to his
left, get to his feet, and draw his sword.

Mason
struggled on the floor with the enraged intruder. He was flat on his
back with the creature on top of him and he was doing his best to
hold the beast back while it viciously attacked him. Wounds on his
shoulders and upper arms bled freely as he ineffectually attempted to
push off the maddened creature. Ben rushed to help.

"No!"
Mason gasped. "Behind you!"

Ben
ducked just in time to avoid the swiping blow of the other creature.
He had wrongly assumed the first beast was still occupied with Tad,
but he spun to see an angry beast whose forearms and chest dripped
with the Captain's blood.