Difference between revisions of "FrivYeti/CalinPg19"

Latest revision as of 19:10, 8 June 2010

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When Bryce reached the town square, it was still mostly empty. Gerald was kneeling over Markus, who was lying on the ground. His horse stood off to one side, greedily gulping at the water in the trough. It was in a lather, and long, shallowly bleedings gashes dripped to the ground.

Markus didn't look noticeably better off. His eyes were closed, and his face was pale. Gerald was applying a compress to Markus's forehead, and looked up as Bryce approached. "Bryce, thank the Dragons. We need to get Markus to an infirmary." He raised an eyebrow at the golden spear that Bryce had looped on his back. "You carry that thing around everywhere?"

"Thought there might be trouble." Bryce frowned down at Markus, and then looked around. "Is he alright?"

"Too early to tell. But he made it." Gerald smiled, standing. "Told me before he passed out. I think I've got his wounds bound up, though. We'd better get him to Master Yuran's house - I can take care of him until Master Yuran gets back from the garrison."

"No, Master Yuran's house is always locked, remember? We'll take him to Karim's house, he always has a spare bed. The Realm is coming?" Bryce walked over to Markus's legs, and looked down at him. He was breathing shallowly, but was still alive. It looked like he'd been in a fairly serious fight. Bryce kept his head down as he looked at the man who had trained him, and wondered.

"That they are. Markus didn't say how many, but he said they weren't more than a day behind him." Gerald started to bend down, then paused when he saw that Bryce wasn't yet. "Problem?"

"Just thought of something. Karim's not home, either." Bryce frowned, thoughtfully, then shrugged. "You still know where his key is, though. Right?"

There was a pause, and then Gerald smiled faintly. "Course I do. Why, he never told you?"

"No." Bryce sighed, and shrugged. "You know how Karim is."

There was a pause. Gerald took a step backwards, and his hand fell to his side. "You know what, Bryce? I think you know the answer to that particular little gem already."

Bryce's jaw set. He drew his spear in a single fluid motion. "Damn straight I do."

"What gave me away?" Gerald's face twitched upwards into a grin. He cracked his neck, and a faint crimson light began to glow in his eyes.

"It was the serpent's fire, really. You used it to get rid of the bodies." Bryce gestured to Markus. "This time, though, you couldn't. And I can see through your little illusions. All I had to do was think to look." He smiled grimly, tapping the side of his head. He knew that the body on the ground was meant to be Markus, but he could see through the glamours that the Fair Folk had laid over it. He saw Gerald's corpse, still bleeding from the hole punched through its chest. Looking at Gerald, he saw a human, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. "First you killed Adar. Then Redman. Then you killed the patrol, and then Markus, and now Gerald. There were too many bodies."

"Not a bad toll, was it?" The faerie's face split into a wide, sharp-toothed grin, and it raised hands that were growing dark with the blood that stained its razor-sharp claws. "I was hoping to do a little better, truth be told, but I couldn't risk the close interrogation that Markus would have had. I thought perhaps Gerald could get a bit closer. Didn't want to have too many deaths connected to one person."

"Well, you failed." Bryce spun his spear, stepping forwards. "There is no Realm garrison coming. You didn't tell them."

"As a matter of fact, I did. Just this morning. Of course, I may have under-represented the threat just a touch. The Realm is sending twenty-five soldiers and a pair of Dragon-Blooded here. They should arrive within the next five or six days; easy prey. With them under our control, we can lure hundreds more before we attack. Your little hamlet is merely a stepping stone, boy. We're after Greyfalls. A prize worth having."

"You're in for a nasty shock." Bryce bared his teeth, and took another step forwards. "We're not easy prey. We are going to destroy you."

"Idiot boy. My Lord possesses four thousand hobgoblins, all skillful warriors. He controls three nobles, myself included, his behemoth, and has developed a sorcery that will spell doom for you even without our forces."

"Really." Bryce narrowed his eyes, and took a third step, mentally noting that Reynard seemed badly underinformed about the threat raised against them - or that this Fair Folk was lying. "If his spell was so powerful, he would already have used it."

"Well, perhaps it doesn't matter to him. The entertainment of watching you mortals squirm is well worth the loss of a tiny handful of hobgoblins." The Fair Folk took a step forwards. His skin rippled with shadows, distorting and perverting Gerald's features into a cruel mockery, and sending chills down Bryce's spine. "Besides, it's too late. The army is already moving against the souther fortress. The northern fortress will fall next, and your little town will be defenseless." It paused, and shook a few drops of blood from its claws. "None of which will matter to you, as you will not leave this square with knowledge of my nature."

"We'll just see about that." Kicking back, Bryce raised his spear and leapt forwards to attack. The monster, with a savage grin, did the same.

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