The Brat's Final Gambit

Dawn was hours away. Davin wiped the sleep from his eyes as he sat in the Sartor manor’s spacious kitchen sipping a mug of hot, mulled cider. He yawned and asked his question again, hoping he had not heard correctly, but Maerillus told him again that Count Joachim had already left with his parents. Davin thought about that for a moment. “We promised them that we would let then know about anything new that came up.”

Niam remained adamant. “And they’re not here!”

“Exactly,” Maerillus said. “Which is why we should tell them when they get back.”

Niam opened his mouth, but Davin knew what he was going to say, so he beat his friend to it, “No,” he looked at Maerillus, “I agree with Niam. It’s why we’ve got to move on this now.”

“You can’t be serious,” Maerillus sputtered. “What are WE going to do?”

Davin sighed. “We can’t do nothing.”

“We should leave this to—”

“—The experts?” Davin interjected. “How many experts do you suppose there are lying around Pirim Village?”

“Look what’s happening!” Maerillus said hotly. “People are dying!”

Davin couldn’t help noticing Niam’s face drop at this. “We know Jort was a Hammer like Kine. We know that he was killed because of something going on here in the Lake Valleys—”

Niam interjected. “Kreeth killed him!”

“Yeah, and Kine is the one whose job it is to take down people like Kreeth,” Maerillus said before Davin could get another word in.

“But that is what I am trying to get at,” Davin said, raising his voice. “Jolan Kine is an agent of the Crown.”

“One who does this sort of thing,” Maerillus said, emphasizing his point again.

“One who also is subject to the laws of the realm, to the laws of the land,” Davin said.

Niam sat at the table across from them, brooding as if Davin and Maerillus were hangmen determining his fate. In a way, that is exactly what he and Maerillus were doing.

“Your point is that we don’t have to do anything because the Voice led Niam into making the connection between his dreams, the boxes, and Kreeth—and that we can tell Kine about this and turn him loose on the sorcerer. Am I right?”

Maerillus paused for a moment and then nodded his head. “That about sums it up.”

“But—” Niam started to say something until Davin cut him off again.

“BUT.” Davin said. “There’s a big ‘but’ that no one is thinking about. The laws covering what a Wizard’s Hammer can and cannot do are very specific.”

“And just how do you know?” Maerillus challenged.

“Because for the past several days I’ve been sitting in your library reading up on it.”

“Oh,” Maerillus said, unhappy that Davin was about to explain why they should go out and tempt death again.

“Hammers must have real evidence that there is a sorcerer or rogue mage at work before moving against them. And he has to have a second Hammer approve anything he does. He must have a warrant.”

Maerillus’s face brightened. “Then that means there’s another one we don’t know about working here!”

“I think Jort would have been the ‘other one,’ Maer. I think Kine has come here on his own. And that means the only way he could do anything is if Kreeth made a move in the open.”

Maerillus looked deflated as he realized his only chance of handing this off to someone else was dwindling.

“Kine has been all over Pirim Village. He’s on to Kreeth. But he can’t do anything direct until he has cause. It’s the only way around a warrant.”

“But he’s got ways of finding it,” Maerillus objected.

“Maerillus, where are your parents going today?” Davin asked, trying to take another tack with his argument.

“To Kalavere.”

“And where has Kine gone with Lord Joachim?”

“To Kalavere.”

“And whose idea was it that we all remained together here at your estate?”

“Lord Joachim suggested it and my dad would have insisted on it anyway,” Maerillus said, growing impatient with Davin’s obvious attempt to make his idea sound so simple even a child could follow along with it.

“I’m sure Jolan Kine added his copper crown’s worth in it as well.”

“Where are you going with this?” Maerillus asked, his voice heavy with impatience.

Davin rolled his eyes as if the answer were self-evident. “Don’t you find it odd that Kine left the area with everyone else?”

Maerillus scrunched his eyebrows. “Maybe.”

“We also know that Lord Joachim meets with other regional lords at the same time.”

“Yeah, and . . .?” Maerillus said, letting his voice trail off, not quite sure where Davin was going with this. “All that means is that we’re here alone.”

“Exactly!” Davin exclaimed. “I’m not home helping my father get ready for the winter. Nor is Niam. We’re here. I think right where Kine wants us. I’ve seen the way he looks at us. I don’t think anyone knows what to make of us—except that we have a knack of getting into the center of hornets’ nests everywhere we go lately. “

Maerillus inclined his head, not happy with the thoughts that were now running through his mind.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that Lord Joachim and Kine left together—very visibly together?”

“I had wondered,” Maerillus admitted. “Especially after we told him what Niam overheard Kreeth saying about us.”

“He wasn’t happy that we were putting our noses where they didn’t belong. Yeah. We’ve brought attention to something Kreeth is doing. Jort must have had something on him. Now, because of us we’ve given any Wizard’s Hammer even more reason to look hard at what’s going on here.”

“So why leave when we’re so obviously a target?” Maerillus asked, perplexed.

“Because I’m willing to bet Kine is up to something. I’m also willing to bet he knows we’ll keep doing what we seem to do best.”

Maerillus groaned. “You mean put our noses where they don’t belong.”

“Well, we’re not exactly bound by the laws governing a Wizard’s Hammer, are we? We can do what Kine cannot do right now.”

Maerillus groaned in resignation. “And when exactly do you want to do this?”

“I want to be in and out shortly after dawn,” Davin said firmly. “I want to get enough on the bastard to help Kine bring him down.”

As Maerillus and Davin got their things together, Niam waited outside in the cold. His body seemed to have a mind of its own, and he could not seem to remain still for more than a few seconds at a time. Across the lawn, a lone girl in white hurried through the frost-whitened grass in little more than an evening gown. Even from where Niam stood unnoticed, he could tell that she was pretty. She kept her head down and seemed locked in her own thoughts. Oblivious to Niam, she moved on toward the servants’ wing of the manor. Before disappearing around the corner and slipping into the door on that wing, Niam realized who the girl was.

Betsy.

A stab of sympathy for Maerillus briefly distracted Niam from his own worries. If she were sneaking back in this late at night barely dressed, it seemed pretty obvious why she had lost interest in Maerillus so quickly. Somewhere nearby, Betsy had a lover.

Poor Maerillus.

At least it looks like it’s not Kreeth, Niam thought with a shudder. In a moment, Betsy was gone.

The door beside Niam opened, and Maerillus and Davin emerged carrying weapons.

“Here,” Maerillus said, still testy because of what they were about to do. He held out a bow and quiver full of arrows. Niam noted he had a bow of his own, albeit one that was considerably longer and more powerful.

Niam accepted it, happy to have some form of protection. Davin handed him his staff. “Thought you should have this, too,” he said.

“Thanks guys,” Niam said, honestly grateful. Memories of the trall attack still haunted him. Davin carried a bow of his own, and a short, thick bladed sword that looked sharp enough to shave with. Maerillus wore a thinner, lighter blade. If they were attacked by something like a trall this time, hopefully they could bring it down. Hopefully.

“So, you ready?” Davin asked. There was a level, solid tone to his voice that somehow made Niam feel more reassured that they could pull this off.

“I’ve been ready for this since the day my sister was found floating in the lake. Let’s go and get what we need to bring this bastard down,” Niam said heatedly.

Maerillus nodded his head grimly.

The woods were quiet as the three of them made their way along the winding road that took them to Kreeth’s estate. Maerillus was alert to every little noise that emerged from the surrounding woods. A slight breeze blew, and naked limbs brushed against one another like dry bones moving silently across the grave of the night.

Maerillus shivered. Davin asked his question again, pulling Maerillus back into the present conversation. “You’re sure Kreeth’s servants don’t live in the manor?”

“Yes. That’s been said a number of times by different people. Even Dad’s talked about how he’s too suspicious of the people working for him to let them live inside his home.”

“For good reason,” Niam quipped dryly. “What with all the things he does in it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to live in that place, even if Kreeth weren’t what he is,” Maerillus said darkly.

Everyone knew its reputation.

Parents told stories about the property to scare children away from it. People thought the estate was cursed. Joachim said that many workers died building the thing. While the place was smaller than his own family’s home by half, Kreeth’s manor was still large. A number of owners had held the thing over the past century, and tragedy accompanied whoever lived there. Its first owner disappeared mysteriously after killing his entire family. A servant found the man’s wife and children decapitated and their heads hanging from a chandelier. The next owner had been the son of a duke from one of the countries across the channel. Rumors still lingered that the man had been caught mutilating his lovers after chaining them up in the basement of one of his father’s homes. The scandal nearly ruined the duke, who had his son castrated and exiled for his crimes. For decades he lived as a recluse. A tax collector from the mayor’s office found him one day hanging from the end of a rope tied to the railing atop the large curved staircase that dominating the manor’s entrance.

After that, people did not remain long in the house. Uneasy servants had spoken about strange noises echoing throughout the manor, of shadows cast by objects that were not there, and of dark, indistinct shapes moving just beyond their range of vision. Maerillus always considered these rumors as the product of overactive imaginations at best, or more often than not, as superstitions that the less educated clung to.

Now that Maerillus has seen more strange things since the beginning of autumn than most people heard about in their lifetimes, he had a fresher perspective on these sorts of tales.

“As long as the morning staff leaves to do their errands in town at sunrise, we ought to have a much better chance of getting in,” Davin said.

“They will,” Maerillus told them for the third time. “Kreeth keeps them out of the house after midday if he is there. Our staff talks about them all the time. Once they’re done inside, he has them tend to the grounds. Their cabins are behind the house where the kitchen is. None of them are permitted inside after dark. They’re terrified of him.”

“I’m counting on what you’ve said.”

“What if he’s expecting something to happen while he’s gone?” Maerillus asked darkly.

Davin kicked a stick on the ground absently as they walked. “I’m hoping he’ll have his guard down a bit because everyone knows Kine left with Joachim.”

“That’s a big if,” The skepticism in Maer’s voice was all too apparent.

“I know,” Davin said. “I know.”

Before too long, Davin took them off the main road to approach Kreeth’s estate from the forest where they would have less chance of being spotted. Kreeth may have been away, but Davin was certain he had people on the lookout.

“How can you be certain one of those tralls isn’t roaming around in the woods? Maerillus worried.

“I can’t be totally certain about anything,” Davin told him honestly. “A trall this close to town would be a dead giveaway to a Wizard’s Hammer snooping around.”

“I hope you’re right about the trall,” Maerillus nearly groaned.

Davin gave him the biggest cheesy smile he could manage. “If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize.”

“That makes me feel better,” Maerillus grumbled.

Things didn’t change until they crossed a narrow stream half a mile from the edge of Kreeth’s land. Davin felt it settling in around him slowly. At first, he chalked it up to Maerillus, who started complaining loudly that he wanted to go back. But it was Niam who sounded the first alarm that something was amiss. For his own part, Niam had remained quiet for much of the walk. When he finally spoke up, it was to hiss, “Would the two of you stop bickering like an old married couple!” When Davin and Maerillus’s jaws both snapped shut in surprise, he went on. “Listen to the forest. Something wrong.”

Davin looked around and listened for a while. What he heard was . . . nothing—no autumn birds, no squirrels, no deer, or foxes broke the sepulchral presseing in from every direction.

“You’re right. Something’s off,” Davin said, feeling his body growing tenser by the moment.

“It started once we crossed the stream,” Niam said, clearly agitated.

“When we started arguing,” Maerillus said quietly. “I felt horrible.”

“You haven’t liked my idea from the get-go.” Davin pointed out.

“No. But ever since we crossed that stream, all I’ve wanted to do is go back home and never come back.”

“Nothing is moving,” Davin said. “It’s like the entire forest has gone empty.”

Niam made an unpleasant observation. “Not entirely.”

Davin and Maerillus both looked at him.

“There have been several squirrels keeping pace with us. You two have been too busy bickering to notice. They only stopped when we stopped.” He gave a visible shiver. “I’ve never seen animals act like that. I know you’ll think I’m crazy, but I think they’ve been watching us.”

Davin looked up. Two squirrels sat on their haunches steadily looking down at the three of them. They displayed none of the nervous ticks or fits of frenetic motion typical of the things. Instead of constantly and neurotically scanning the woods for predators, their lack of motion was unsettlingly calm and purposive.

The hair on the back of Davin’s neck stood up. Quickly, he bent down, grabbed a stick, and threw it at their branch. The stick struck the limb with a loud, flat crack. The squirrels continued to stare without flinching. “Okay,” Maerillus said. “That’s too weird.” Without a word passing between them, Davin quickly strung his bow. At the same time, Niam and Maerillus did so as well.

Davin took aim and loosed his arrow. Two more twangs followed. Davin’s arrow took the first squirrel just below its neck, sending it tumbling back and to the leafy floor with a soft thud where it lay completely motionless. Maerillus’s arrow flew right through the second squirrel, and Niam’s arrow, a brief second behind it, missed as the animal tumbled over without moving.

Niam walked to one. “Uh, I’m pretty sure I know why the things didn’t so much as twitch or kick,” he said as a look of disgust traveling across his face. He brought them an arrow with a squirrel still attached to it, holding the shaft away from his body as if the skewered animal was something contagious.

Maerillus’s nose crinkled as he looked at it. “Dear Lord, what is that?”

Davin thought that he poor thing barely looked like a squirrel at all, and the sight of it caused a sense of revulsion to travel down his spine. Large patches of fur were missing where it had fallen out in tufts, and its eyes appeared to have partially sunken into its skull as if they were no longer supported by tissue and bone behind them. The animal’s arms and hind legs were abnormally long, and where its hind feet ended in a normal pair of paws, it’s forelimbs tapered to a set of scythe-like talons.

Niam picked up a stick and used it to pry open the thing’s mouth. “Great Lord of Light!” Maerillus exclaimed. “Look at those teeth!”

Repulsed, Davin asked, “How could it even survive?” Instead of sporting a thick pair of large, gnawing incisors, this squirrel’s jaws bore rows of uneven, jagged fangs.

“Thing looks diseased,” Niam said. “It’s covered with lesions.”

“Pull the arrow out and stick it in the ground so no one will know we were here,” Davin told him, and then said, “Let’s find the other two arrows and bury them. If these things are carrying anything, I don’t want to run the risk of spreading what they might have.”

“They reminded me of the trall,” Davin said once they were done.

“Jolan Kine said that tralls were created by the darkest sorcery imaginable,” Niam said. He looked pale.

“This is sick,” Maerillus said uneasily.

“They were watching us for one of two reasons,” Niam said darkly. “Either they wanted to, or Kreeth wanted them to.”

“We’ve got to get a move on,” Davin said quickly. “The sun will be up soon and if there are more of Kreeth’s creations running around here, we are better off getting this over with.”

Almost as soon as Davin’s words were out, a long, ululating howl pierced the night. Davin’s back ran with goose bumps and he instinctively grabbed the pommel of his short sword.

“How far off was that?” Maerillus asked in alarm.

“Sounded like it was a long way away,” Davin said, fighting the rising tide of worry blooming in his chest.

“Then what’s that running toward us?” Niam flashed, raising his staff defensively.

Davin spun around just as he heard the rapid patter of paws speeding trough the crisp autumn leaves.

“Wolf!” Maerillus cried out.

“I see it!” Davin barked.

Quickly, he pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back and nocked it. At the same moment, Niam shouted in a terrified voice, “More wolves!”

The rasp of more paws slashing trough dry leaves suddenly became distinct. The closest wolf streaked toward them with its head low and barred fangs gleaming in the moonlight. Muscles rippled like liquid beneath the beast’s fur as its powerful legs propelled it forward with a predatory grace.

Davin gave in to the well of power that always lay just beneath the surface of his being, and time slowed almost to a crawl. In that moment he noticed how the wolf bearing down on him had been altered just like the squirrels. Its maw was tipped with a set of wickedly curved tusks, and instead of pads, its paws looked like they ended with the articulated talons of a raptor.

Davin felt a white-hot blaze of rage that someone could twist creation into such a perversion. He drew his bow back and watched as his arrow drove through the air, striking the creature below its left eye. The thing crumpled and went down instantly. Davin shifted and nocked another arrow. Exhilaration like he had never known filled his body. He floated in a sea of serenity. There was only this moment. Time stood upon a fulcrum and he was its tipping point. All he had to do was find another target and let his arrow fly.

Next to him, Niam whirled his staff and brought it down heavily on a wolf’s skull. The animal let out a savage growl and shook its head. Niam took that brief instant to spin his staff over his head and swung it in a low arc so that the tip connected with the beast’s leg, snapping it like a twig. The wolf let out a yelp and limped backward, its fangs bared, and its muzzle pulled back, rippling.

Davin sent an arrow plunging into its side, piercing the thing’s shoulder and spearing its heart. He reached back and pulled another arrow from his quiver, savoring the absolute confidence that came with giving in to the ocean he first felt what seemed like an age ago in a side alley of Kalavere.

Maerillus had his bow up, but he fumbled for his arrow while another beast closed rapidly. Davin pulled back his string. He knew he had this. There were no more wolves. This was the last one. All he had to do was aim and release. But as he stepped back to steady himself, a root caught the bottom of his boot. Davin felt a moment of frustration and surprise. Suddenly the ocean of calm certainty was gone and his eyes went wide as his balance betrayed him. Panic flashed through him; as he teetered and stumbled back, he released his arrow too soon, which flew wide and high. Davin fell, sprawling across the ground, and he heard Maerillus yell out in fear.

He scrambled to get up as the wolf jumped and missed. When it landed, the thing wheeled about to have another go Maerillus, but Niam charged the wolf, fending it off by waving his staff and bellowing in fear.

Maerillus used Niam’s diversion to draw an arrow back with his powerful bow. The shaft buried itself in the wolf’s hip, and the animal screamed in pain. It refused to back off, however, becoming all the more enraged for the pain now flaring in its hind end.

Davin drew his sword and leapt at the animal. Niam lifted his staff. Davin drove his blade into the wolf’s side. He felt the metal meet bone.

The wolf snapped viciously at Davin’s blade as Niam’s staff came crashing down on its skull, and in less than a heartbeat, the thing lay lifeless.

“Is everyone okay?!” Davin shouted.

“I’m fine,” Niam panted, looking as if he were trying to see in every direction at once.

“I’m okay too,” Maerillus said as he prepared another arrow in case there were more wolves about.

Davin took a moment to gather himself together. His heart raced and his hands trembled. Silently he cursed himself for becoming so arrogant that he allowed a simple root to trip him up.

Maerillus could have died. He wanted to scream. He should have been more cautious with his power, but it was nearly impossible to be cautious when he felt nearly invincible.

In the distance, another howl rose into the night air.

Letting out a long breath, Davin said, “Come on guys, let’s keep moving.”

“I told you there’d be more things like the trall,” Maerillus said quietly as they walked.

“No fair,” Davin said in a low voice. “You said there MIGHT be a trall . . . but I’m a man of my word. Sorry Maer.”

“Don’t mention it,” Maerillus said glumly.

The farther they walked, the more Davin worried. Had he lead his two friends into a trap? Kreeth must have released the twisted creatures only recently, otherwise Jolan Kine would have encountered them, wouldn’t he? An urge to just collect one of the carcasses and return with the copse grew in intensity the closer they got to their goal. The sorcerer may very well have left those wolves running free in case someone (someone like three meddlesome boys who had a tendency to stick their noses where they didn’t belong) came snooping around. If he had, surely this meant he knew nothing of their growing abilities. Otherwise, more than three of his abominations would have attacked them. Or, had it been a test? Now that three of his wolves lay dead in the woods behind him, Kreeth would have to know someone had come around.

Davin’s doubts grew into certainties that he was about to get Niam and Maerillus killed. He noticed that although the eastern sky was slowly brightening, the forest somehow seemed to grow darker, more oppressive. He felt as if there were someone lingering just beyond the range of his senses whispering to him to give up.

Davin had to stop.

“What is it,” Maerillus demanded. His mood had also taken a darker turn. “You see something, don’t you?” His voice was abrupt, almost accusing.

Davin shook his head. “It’s this place, Maer. There’s something in the air, or the trees that’s trying to get to me.”

“It’s a little of both . . . but neither,” Niam said. He looked around, lost in thought, as if he was trying to find the right words to explain what he sensed. Beads of swear dotted his brow and his eyes were dark and puffy. “I guess I’m feeling it, too.”

“I know. I can tell.”

“But how could Kreeth affect an area this large, Niam?” Davin asked. Kreeth’s power both impressed and revolted him.

“I’m no sorcerer!” Niam spat angrily. It took a moment to regain his composure. “Sorry. I can feel . . . things. Have you ever felt a harp or dulcimer strings vibrate? It’s kind of like that, but I think I feel the vibration and the will behind the musician’s choice to pick the strings he uses. It’s like part of him is here in the air around us.”

“I had no idea,” Davin muttered.

Niam looked nauseous. “I feel him everywhere.”

“Good way to keep people away,” Davin grumbled. As he grew silent he heard a noise a short distance away. Maerillus reached for an arrow, but Davin grabbed him and put a finger over his lips. “It’s Kreeth’s servants. They’re on their way to town,” he said quietly.

Maerillus visibly relaxed as the voices of two men making lewd jokes about a tavern girl’s chastity became audible over the racket of the old cart they drove. The rhythmic hoof fall of two horses plodded by as the men’s conversation slowly began to recede after a short wait.

When only the squeak of the wheels could be heard in the distance, Davin spoke in his normal voice. “The road must be closer than I thought.”

“That means we’re almost there,” Niam said.

In moments, the forest gave way to a large expanse of lawn. Davin stood just inside the tree line looking at Kreeth’s manor. Maerillus walked up beside him and groaned, “I really want to go back, now.”

Niam whined, “But he killed my brother and sister. I’m going, even if I have to go alone. Even if it kills me to do it.”