Kings and Daemons Read online

  His luck was about to change.

  As Taran walked into the main room, it was not empty. As feared a number of the king’s soldiers were stood at the bar drinking and laughing noisily with more sat around taking up nearly every seat. He closed the door of the tavern behind him, and quiet settled over the room. A sense of menace gripped his stomach, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

  Taran lowered his head, and as he walked toward the back stairs, one of the seated men, a corporal by the look of the single matching scars on his cheeks, thrust his leg out in an attempt to trip him.

  Taran sensed this was coming and simply hopped over the foot, smiled in apology as if it had been his fault, then continued on as if nothing had happened.

  However, three men suddenly stepped from the bar to block his way. One was the captain of the squad, three matching scars on his cheeks showed his rank and a host of horrendous open sores kept them company.

  There was no way around the trio and Taran stopped, thinking quickly of a way to head off the danger. He might be a good fighter, but against swords, daggers, and so many men, there was no way he could hope to fight his way out of this situation. He would die if this were their intent, and from the way these three looked at him, and the sound of scraping chairs as others got to their feet, it seemed this was the likely outcome.

  He reached out with his gift and swiftly looked into the captain’s thoughts … words and images formed in Taran’s mind.

  ‘Rakan!’ he cried, thrusting out his hand in greeting to the captain. ‘Rakan, is that you? It is, isn’t it? Tell me it is!’

  ‘By all the gods,’ cried the young man, ‘I can’t believe it’s you!’

  -----

  Maya awoke with a chill, not just from the setting sun but from the terrible realisation that too much time had passed. She was late for her return to the settlement and likely in serious trouble.

  She leapt to her feet, pulled on her boots and grabbing her belongings then scrambled over the crest of the crater and ran. Tree branches whipped past, and sharp thorns sought to score her face, yet her nimble feet and graceful stride kept her from their grasp. Surefooted, she pushed herself as fast as she dared, sweat making her threadbare clothing stick damply to her skin.

  Darkness loomed, for she’d left her return to the settlement too late. The foraging bag on her shoulder bounced against her back, and her bow seemed determined to snag on the undergrowth as she ran. She wanted to be released of their burden to run unhindered, but this was food for many tables, and the bow was a gift from her late mother. Without the food and bow, people would go hungry, and she’d have to face too many awkward questions from the town cleric or worse the overseer, so she struggled on.

  The settlement’s horn sounded mournfully through the fog that seemed to spring from nowhere, to warn of the danger of the impending sunset and the closure of the gates. Not that she needed reminding, now that the gloom of the day’s end was so obvious, shadows stretched long on the ground, twisted and evil looking.

  As Maya ran, she thought that in all the years she could remember, no one other than soldiers had ventured outside of the gates after dark. It was against the settlement’s strict rules, punishable by flogging, or for a repeat offender, death. This knowledge spurred her on, fleet of foot even in the reduced light.

  She knew these woods close to the settlement like the back of her hand, every rocky mound or cave, the dangers and rare wonders … yet all of a sudden she couldn’t recognise her surroundings. Calm down, she thought, and slowed a little, trying to orientate. Yet it was no use as everything seemed unfamiliar.

  The fog was heavier now, and when the horn sounded twice to warn it was mere moments from the closure of the gates, Maya realised her fleet steps had taken her no closer. She’d become disorientated in her haste, and there’d be no sanctuary in the settlement this night.

  Resigned to her fate, knowing that a severe punishment awaited her return on the morrow, Maya stopped and considered where to build a shelter and a fire. However, as she came to a decision, a long soul-chilling howl sounded on the night air.

  There would be no making a shelter now.

  Maya ran again, away from the sound. She pushed herself fast, lungs straining as her heart beat hard within her chest.

  The howl sounded again, joined by others, seeming closer, but they didn’t have her scent yet. She had to find somewhere to hide, to shelter, somewhere safe, but where?

  Thoughts brought on by near panic flashed through her mind. She wanted to see her father again, the settlement, even the seamstress who repaired her worn old clothes …

  Hold it together! she scolded herself. She’d been a hunter her whole life but would soon be the prey of the wolves if she didn’t make the right decisions. She had to think differently now. What did animals always do when hunted? Of course they ran, but some would also go to ground. From her time as a hunter, she knew her scent was the big betrayer. She could hide from sight, but scent could give away her position like the brightest fire even in the darkness.

  She came across a game trail and hastened along until it bisected another bigger one, the undergrowth flattened by a large animal. Usually, she would have avoided going anywhere near this. It was a trail made by one of the very few mountain bears, and they were the only predator in the forest that a wolf would be wary of.

  As Maya followed the new trail, eyes straining in the darkness, she came upon a large mound of fresh bear spoor. She knelt and reached down to scoop up a handful then started to cover her clothes. Next, she rubbed it into her face and had to fight hard to keep her stomach contents down, but the howls kept her at work.

  There were many caves all near the valley’s edge, and she started following the terrain upslope, not knowing where in the dark, but knowing that up was good enough. This meant the howls which had increased in sound, were now at her back.

  Suddenly the howling reached a frenzied level, and fear gripped her stomach. They’d found her scent! In the distance, she heard the sound of the wolves crashing through the undergrowth. Forgetting her woodcraft, she threw every ounce of her strength into running uphill, pulling herself past trees, the rush of panicked blood in her veins, giving her extra strength. In time she came to a scree slope, at the top of which a dark opening loomed forbiddingly, and she dropped handfuls of the bear spoor she’d brought with her as she scrambled up to the entrance.

  If a bear inhabited the cave, her death would be just as horrific as if the wolves had caught her, but she had no choice. So she drew her short dagger, determined to put up a fight, and moved into the darkness.

  The cave wasn’t deep, and she breathed a sigh of relief, for it was too shallow to offer enough shelter for a bear should it rain as it often did. So she moved to the back and huddled into a corner then tried to quieten her breathing which seemed so loud, not to mention the thudding of her heart.

  The pack seemed to be right outside the cave, the wolves and the scrape of their claws on the scree slope sounded so close. Tears fell from her eyes, the fear almost overwhelming, then thoughts of her mother came to mind, and she calmed a little. Slowly the noise became quieter as the pack were put off by the smell of bear, and she allowed herself to let out a soft sigh of relief, only for it to be answered by the loud sniff of a wolf close by, as it scented the air.

  She strained to see in the darkness and there framed in the entrance of the cave it moved. It was a large beast, and it held its muzzle close to the ground as It smelled the spoor. It was wary, but it was also strong, very hungry and feared so very little.

  Maya held her breath as she looked at the wolf, its yellow eyes peered back into the dark, and she felt them pierce her even in the depth of the cave. Its tongue lolled from its mouth, and saliva dripped to the floor as it turned side to side slowly edging into the gloom. Yet it couldn’t see anything but its prey, so it grew bolder.

  Maya abstractly noted that the jaws of a trap remained around one of its legs, all twisted and b
ent, no doubt driving the creature mad with pain.

  Having made up its mind, the wolf moved toward her. Its muzzle drew back, exposing its fangs … a few more steps and that would be it.

  Maya’s hands trembled so much that she dropped the knife.

  Then the beast came for her, all sharp teeth, foul breath and those yellow eyes.

  ‘No!’ she cried, and thrust her hands out in a pointless defence.

  Chapter II

  Rakan’s head spun as he carefully placed his tankard back on the bar.

  Ordinarily, he’d have taken the soldiers back to the training ground many hours ago, but he’d been enjoying himself too much to make that decision. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t trained hard throughout the day, and his men had made the most of this unusual respite from the harsh regime that was typically imposed upon them.

  Now it was way too late to do much else apart from maybe eat. The sky was dark, and even if it was still a little too early for sleep, the amount of ale he’d drunk made him think that perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

  It had been the strangest of evenings.

  He’d been on the verge of gutting the lad straight away before his obvious recognition had given Rakan pause for thought, and for once he was strangely relieved he hadn’t killed someone.

  Rakan was a long term soldier, reliable and cruel, and dealing death came as easily to him as breathing. His men usually followed him out of fear ... fear of what would happen to them if they didn’t follow his orders, certainly not because they liked him.

  He’d killed more men and women than he had scars and sores on his body, and there were plenty of those. Most of his victims had been warriors from the Eyre, a morass of stinking swampland that served as a convenient proving ground for the soldiers of the Witch-King. Of late, more had been townsfolk who’d not met their quotas or turned to banditry, and some had even been fellow soldiers. He regretted none and enjoyed reliving the memory of killing them all.

  He longed for fighting and bloodshed, to best another warrior in combat. The chaos of battle was far more satisfying than killing a weeping civilian, but he got what pleasure he could whenever he could find it. Thankfully it wouldn’t be long before the king’s forces were gathered together to spill across the border into the neighbouring Freestates, and then the real fun would start again.

  Sadly, in the interim, he’d been put in charge of this relatively new group of soldiers who didn’t know him, his history, and they’d annoyed him immensely with their complaining. He’d planned to kill one of them before this Taran had walked in, so they could understand what kind of man he was, and what he expected of them.

  Strangely, violence was no longer required to get this point across.

  Throughout the evening, Taran had called the other soldiers to the bar and had bought everyone’s drinks.

  As Rakan listened, a new goblet of ale was pushed into his hand, and Taran began to tell yet another outrageous tale about Rakan that involved an Eyre captive, a dozen throwing knives, a keg of ale and a blindfold.

  The soldiers laughed in appreciation, and after a little pause, Taran launched into his next story. Rakan shook his head with a wry smile as other exploits he’d forgotten were brought back to life, and he felt the last remnants of his desire to spill blood dissipate, as he revelled in the looks of admiration the men sent his way.

  It seemed the lesson he’d intended to make was coming from the mouth of another - the lesson of how anyone who crossed him ended up dead.

  -----

  The wolf moved forward.

  Maya cried out in fear and raised her hands, and suddenly they were enveloped by a blinding light that made the wolf jump back. As a creature of the night, its eyes were not accustomed to the brightness, so it growled, and snapped its jaws, spraying saliva.

  Maya was amazed, her gift had never manifested itself so visually and with such strength, but then again she’d never experienced such peril. As it moved forward again, she desperately sought to channel the flow of energy toward the wolf. Having only ever healed, whether it was the land, her family or occasionally small animals, it was the only way she knew how to use the gift.

  So when the wolf leapt to try break through the light, Maya grabbed its head and willed for her gift to soothe the wolf, to still its anger, and ease its pain.

  Its terrible weight bore her to the ground, and it stood, paws either side of her shoulders, breath hot on her face. It opened its terrible jaws, and she thought these were her last moments. Yet the gaping jaws didn’t close. Instead, they opened wider and wider in a yawn, then the wolf collapsed on top of her, asleep.

  Maya could barely breathe, the weight of the wolf was so heavy, and she struggled to wriggle from underneath, fearful of waking it. Eventually, having pulled herself free, she looked around in the darkness as the blinding light from her hands had disappeared, and saw the glint of her knife on the cave floor.

  Swiftly she picked it up, and turned back to the wolf, then put the blade to its throat. A quick, clean death while it slept, she thought.

  The wolf whined softly in its sleep, and Maya simply couldn’t. She’d killed many animals over the years as a hunter, none of which had just tried to kill her, but there was something different about this beast, that had just whimpered like a baby, that stilled her hand.

  Maya felt exhausted and needed to sleep. The run for her life and the subsequent strength-sapping fear of facing death had left her barely able to keep her eyes open. Yet she needed to do something about the wolf.

  Quickly she took some bracken from around the cave and started a fire using her flints, which allowed her to better view the surroundings. She stepped outside the entrance of the cave, gathered sticks and some larger pieces of wood and brought them in and built up the fire so that it filled the cave with its reassuring glow and warmth.

  Now able to see clearly, Maya swiftly took some leather bindings and rope typically used for traps and the spare string for her bow. She swiftly fashioned a leash, then tied it around the beast’s neck and from there to a large rocky outcrop. Next, she bound the wolf’s legs, giving it a small amount of looseness so as not to kill circulation.

  It was surprising to see how sick it looked close up. Its leg was weeping and bleeding around the warped jaws of the broken trap. Its fur was patchy, leaving bare skin, and its paws had thorns bedded deep.

  Maya took a final binding and wrapped it around the wolf’s jaws, then turned her attention to the broken trap. It was heavy and twisted, so she took her knife, carefully worked it under the metal and then twisted the blade until it opened, making a loud clang as it fell to the floor. It took much of her remaining strength to lift the wolf’s leg and slide the device from under it, and she felt a little sickened by the contraption.

  She almost fell backwards with shock when she saw the wolf’s eyes were open and fixed on her as it let out a deep throaty growl. ‘Be still,’ she scolded, a little more confidently than she felt, and the beast seemed to settle under her commanding tone.

  Next, she turned her attention to its paws, and the wicked thorns buried deep into the padded flesh. Its every step must have been agony. So she took her knife and a needle and started worrying them loose. The wolf whined piteously, but apart from flinching in pain, it made no further attempt to move.

  It took no inconsiderable time to remove them all, and her eyes were nearly closed as she finished, yet she didn’t stop there.

  With her fading strength, she lay her hands on the beast’s huge head and let her gift flow, willing it to heal. The beast opened its eyes again, and in the flickering firelight, they seemed almost a warm gold. The healing power flowed from her hands into the wolf, and it fell into slumber once more, its wounds healed.

  Tiredness was about to overwhelm her, so having checked her handiwork on restraining the beast, Maya wondered briefly how she’d free it without dying should it awake, but decided to worry about that in the morning.

  She st
aggered to the opposite side of the fire to the slumbering wolf, strung her bow, and nocked an arrow just in case. She then took a handful of berries from her foraging pouch and fell asleep the moment after swallowing the first mouthful.

  Maya slept fitfully at first despite her exhaustion; unbidden images flashed through her dreams. Her father worrying about her lying injured or dead somewhere. The overseer laughing at the harsh punishment he would hand out when it was apparent there were no broken limbs to blame for her late return. People shouting, angry at their children going hungry because she hadn’t returned in time. Then the hungry wolf, slavering jaws tearing at her flesh.

  She awoke with a gasp, heart racing, angry at herself and the predicament she was in. Having managed to stay clear of the overseer all these years, her foolishness would now bring her right under his piercing gaze.

  The fire crackled, burning low, and the beast whimpered softly in its sleep. It sounded strangely comforting, so Maya drowsily pulled some more branches on to the fire, and this time her sleep was deep and her dreams completely different.

  -----

  She stood and looked down at her sleeping body in the cave. There were dark circles under the eyes and not just from the dirt rubbed around her face.

  The wolf was thankfully still fast asleep, breathing deeply, and she marvelled how in slumber it looked nothing like the ferocious beast that had almost taken her life.

  Maya walked from the cave, or rather floated, for her feet didn’t seem to need to move and looked up into the cloudy night sky. She wished she could see the stars, and suddenly found herself lifting higher and higher. She felt free, like never before, with no fear of falling, and after looking around a while, she began to fly over the valley toward home.