Stronger than Bone (29 page)

(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)

Joszette sat on Lynn’s bed with his head cradled in her lap. His eyes were closed and he didn’t move as she placed a razor against his neck and slowly pulled it up toward his chin. She wiped the soapy lather and hair onto a towel next to her and moved the razor carefully back to his neck. She gently shaved the beard from his neck and then his face as he rested in her care.

Lynn protested at first, saying something about it being too soon. “You just lay still and let me do this for you,” she said with a smile. Unable to disappoint her, he finally relented and lay still as she had insisted.

As she slowly drew the razor up his neck, his jugular vein pulsed rhythmically under the skin. It was captivating for some reason; almost hypnotizing. An ever increasing tingling flittered through her body with every throb of his vein. Her hand began to tremble.

Joszette stopped and laid the razor down on the bed. She closed her eyes and held his face in her hands.
“What is this? What is wrong with me?”
she thought.
“Please don’t let me hurt him
,” she prayed silently.

After a few moments, she was calm. Her hands had stopped trembling and the tingling sensation was reduced to a hum in the background of her senses. She opened her eyes to see Lynn watching her. She smiled reassuringly, and picked up the razor.

Slowly and methodically, she shaved the beard from his handsome face, but the longing for blood returned. With each upward or downward stroke of the razor, the temptation to pull it sideways and cut into his flesh was there. By the time she was done, her nerves were shot, and she was feeling irritable.

Joszette laid the razor down and tried to will the evil thoughts away. She softly ran her fingers over his smooth skin as she struggled internally. Suddenly she pulled her hands away from his face and put them down on the bed.

“Lynn, I’m sorry to rush away, but I think I need to go lie down,” she said.

“Are you feeling unwell?” he asked with concern on his face.

“Yes,” she answered. “But I’m sure it will pass. You should rest.”

She helped him lift his head and slid from beneath him. Before leaving, she helped him get comfortable and repositioned his pillow. Cuddles, watched from her spot on a blanket piled in the corner. She had come with Charity when she visited earlier and stayed when Charity left for dinner.

“Would you like me to take Cuddles with me?” asked Joszette. She had tried to climb up in bed with Lynn the last time she had visited.

“Nah, I don’t mind the company,” he said with a smile.

Joszette leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then hurried out the door. In the hallway she looked down at her hands. Her fingers looked slimmer and longer, and her fingernails were visibly longer and more pointed than they had been that morning.
“Oh dear God,”
she thought.
“Please, no!”
She curled her fingers into tight fists and walked swiftly to her room.

Hours later, Death crept through the deep afternoon shadows and into the castle stairwell. Silently, he made his way to the infirmary hall. He stood in the dark stairway listening to the infirmary guards joking about ways to get out of it if they were called to take part in a suicide mission like the Axe Battalion.

“I’d break my own leg, by God!” said the first guard in a husky and breathy voice. “They can’t very well expect me to fight if my leg’s broken!”

“Yeah right Thomas,” the second guard laughed in a similar, but accented voice. He sounded like he was from far to the south. “That’s such a load of bull.”

“Well, I’d do somethin’,” Thomas argued. “Screw it, I’d cut off some toes then.”

The other guard laughed and said, “I’ll help you out bud. How ‘bout I cut off your willy! That’ll save your own bum, and the bums of all the little boys in the neighborhood too! Ha!”

“Screw you, Bart! The only thing you’d be doin’ is saving your wife from enjoying sex for once!”

Death heard the sound of scuffling and stepped out into the corridor. The two guards grunted and struggled with each other, oblivious to the gaunt giant walking silently toward them. “A broken neck will work best,” whispered Death as he took Thomas’ head in his large hands and wrenched it fiercely sideways causing a subdued pop sound. Thomas fell limply to the floor and didn’t move.

Bart looked at Death with wide eyes. He opened his mouth to shout but only managed, “Unfffthhh!” as his neck was ripped open and his head snapped back with two swift strikes from the inhuman claws protruding sharply from Death’s skeletal fingers.

Death didn’t wait for Bart’s body to hit the floor. He turned and sprinted for the only occupied room in the infirmary. He could smell sweat and blood as he approached the doorway. The sound of a racing pulse brought a crooked smile to his scarred face, and he leapt head first through the open door to take the life of his long time enemy.

(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)

Cuddles let out a deep rumbling growl. It was barely a whisper, but it made the hair on the back of Lynn’s neck stand up. He looked at the corner where Cuddles was lying, and saw her staring at the doorway. Her hackles were up and her head was low. She was definitely afraid of something.

Lynn ignored his aching side and quickly pushed his body up and out of the infirmary bed. He silently scooped up the battle axe braced against the wall. He leaned forward and snuck a peak out into the hall. He immediately drew his head back in. “Damn,” he hissed. He had seen the uneven brim of Death’s hideous hat at the end of the hall and the trembling leg of a guard lying on the floor.

His heart raced and he took half a step back from the door way, but stayed close to the wall. He raised his axe and waited as he listened to scuffling sounds and then silence from the end of the hall.

Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he saw Cuddles jump to her feet.

On instinct, Lynn took a deep breath, raising the axe to full height and swung.

Death’s head passed through the threshold of the room and the axe fell mightily from above. In a flash of silver splashed with red, it sent the oily locks and disgusting hat unceremoniously to the floor. His body continued its flight into the room, but the trajectory failed, and it collapsed before reaching the bed.

A terrible hissing and gurgling noise erupted from the bubbling neck, and with jerking spasms the corpse leapt up and tackled Lynn. The runes covering Death’s skin glowed hot and burned where they touched Lynn’s body.

Cuddles barked and growled ferociously and began tearing and pulling at the revenant’s leg. The brave young dog strained to drag the weakening corpse back as Lynn pushed and scrambled to get free.

He pushed the corpse away and stood. The corpse began to spasm and kick again as if unwilling to admit the fate it had just been delivered. After a few seconds it seemed to lose the will to fight and it slowed, until finally it lay still.

Lynn used his foot to knock the putrid and disgusting hat off of the decapitated head lying in the doorway. He grunted with pain and braced himself with the handle of his axe. He bent over at the waist and grasped the head by its greasy black hair. He stood up with a groan and held Death’s severed head at arm’s length. “Come back from that, you bastard,” he said and walked out of the room.

Cuddles stood over the body, still growling lowly, as if daring it to move.

Axe in one hand and severed head in the other, Lynn walked slowly through the castle until he reached the Royal Assembly Hall.

The guards recoiled as he approached and passed them by with his bloody axe and the dripping head. He gained strength from their weakness and stood up straighter as he walked toward the dais. The court was silent as he approached the front of the hall and the King’s throne.

“Here is the face of your enemy,” he said and tossed the head at the King’s feet. Turning to face the court he said, “The rebel army is not made merely of men. There are more of these,” he said pointing at the monstrous head lying near the King’s throne. “They are practicing blood magic; a dark and evil witchcraft that causes their dead to rise again from the grave.”

The courtiers gasped in horror and some of the ladies even cried out in terror.

Lynn turned back to the King and said loudly, “These walls will not protect you or these people! They will crash their soldiers against the gates, hurl them over the walls, and sacrifice them on purpose! For them, death is the beginning! It unleashes the raging beast inside! These walls will lock you inside with ravenous creatures that are intent on drinking your blood! They will seal your fate!”

The King was unable to speak. His face was locked in a rictus of horror as he pushed himself up out of his seat and tried to get away from Death’s head.

“Coward!” Lynn growled through clenched teeth. He strode onto the dais and grasped the crown from the King’s head with one hand while he punched the priest-king in the face with the head of his axe. The King sputtered and fell backward over the back of the throne.

Guards rushed forward with spears and swords pointed at the dais and Lynn turned fearlessly to face the court, holding the crown high above his head. His face showed righteous anger and determination as he shouted in a thundering voice, “HOLD!”

The guards stopped and the court fell silent except for the king’s pathetic whimpering coming from somewhere behind the throne.

“LOOK AT MY FACE!” he shouted.

Without the beard, his resemblance to the royal family was unmistakable. Murmuring started and a few surprised gasps were heard.

“My father was King Lawrence! My brother…whom I never knew, was the good and just Prince Thurmond!” he said with sad eyes.

“All will be explained, but for now, know that I,” and he looked over his shoulder toward the sound of the injured priest. “I, and NOT that coward, am your RIGHTFUL KING!”

Slowly; one by one, and then as if hit by a wave, the court knelt in front of him. The guards looked around and then at one another. Then they too knelt before their new King.

Lynn whispered, “No turning back…” He swallowed as the realization of what he had just done settled upon him. Then he saw Kelly among the courtiers, grinning like a banker in a whore house, and his mind cleared.

Addressing the guards he gestured back at the deposed king and said, “Get that pathetic coward out of my castle!”

The guards rushed forward and behind the throne, bodily dragging the priest, who shouted and protested the entire way, from the hall and out of the castle as ordered.

Kelly Turner, the former King’s Master of Swords approached the dais and bowed low.

“Get up you old goat,” said Lynn with a red face and shy smile.

“Your Majesty, if I may,” he said. He held out his hands and received the crown from Lynn as he stepped up to join him on the throne dais. “Members of the court!” he shouted. The courtiers turned toward the dais. “May I present to you, our CHAMPION and KING! Once known to us as the HERO OF BLOODY DRAW, then as the HERO OF BLOODY BEACH, many years later he came back to us as the HERO OF HIDDEN VALLEY! Most recently, he distinguished himself as the HERO OF THE KING’S ROAD! Today, and forever he will be known as the one living heir of King Lawrence! HIS MAJESTY, KING LYNN HAYES!” and he placed the crown on Lynn’s brow before stepping back and bowing low again.

The court erupted in cheers and shouts of adulation.

“More titles?” Lynn asked out of the side of his mouth as he continued to smile and face the court.

“Well, forgive me, but the spectacle is important…your Highness.” Kelly answered with a coy grin.

“Fine, but don’t go adding any more,” he laughed. Looking down briefly, he saw the head resting on the edge of the throne dais. The smile immediately left his face, and he stiffened.

“Enough.” he said. “This can wait, but war cannot.”

Then to the court he said, “Clear the hall! We are at WAR!”

To be continued…

(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)

Major Brente, Commander of Axe Battalion, sat atop his horse in stern silence. He was faced with an impossible situation. At his back were approximately eight hundred of the finest mounted warriors in the entire known world. In front of him stood five thousand rebel infantry, and behind them sat two thousand of his own traitorous countrymen mounted on armored war horses. The Axe Battalion was all that stood between the enemy army and a peaceful village near the coast.

Chase sat on his own horse next to Corvis. “Look at those idiots,” he said. “They act like they can win.”

Corvis looked at him with a frown.

Chase shrugged and said, “Hey, I’m just saying we’ve been down before.”

Corvis didn’t say anything in reply. He just looked at his oldest friend and gave a sad smile. He saw a spark of mischief in Chase’s eyes, and his spirits lifted.

Chase grinned and both men faced forward, ready to charge into battle.

Just then, from somewhere behind the Axe Battalion, a trumpet blast sounded. Chase and Corvis turned in their saddles to look behind them.

“I don’t believe it…” whispered Chase as they witnessed a host of mounted and dismounted soldiers in shimmering silver armor marching in tight formation to the battle field. Over the heads of the marching soldiers flew an enormous battle standard. The solid black silhouette of an axe floated in the wind, centered on a field of crimson red.

The King’s Army took position behind and to either side of the Axe Battalion, increasing their overall strength to eight thousand men and four thousand horses.

Corvis shook his head in disbelief as the standard followed a single figure dressed in gleaming gold and silver armor and mounted on a similarly armored warhorse.

Their former commander, and newly crowned King, rode to the front of the battalion and maneuvered his horse to stand beside them. The three of them faced the combined might of Duke Dennison and the rebels from across the battle field. It was the first of two armies they would have to fight before this war could end.

“Your majesty,” they said in unison.

“Major Brente,” he nodded. “Major Martin.”

“You’re looking very…shiny today,” quipped Chase. Corvis coughed to stifle a chuckle, and Chase grinned unashamedly.

Drums sounded from across the field and five thousand rebel soldiers began marching steadily forward.

Lynn rolled his shoulders and shifted in his saddle, looking uncomfortable in his gilded armor. He looked down range at the approaching rebel force and exhaled. A familiar calm settled over him. He looked again at the two youngest field-grade officers in his army and said, “Gentlemen, it’s time to go to work. What do you say we skip the speeches and get right to the killing.” Without another word, he kicked his heels into the haunches of his warhorse, and charged heroically into battle.