Part 3 Chapter 7

CHAPTER 23

 

 

W

hile Olraym and Trugaime are making deals with Morcale Harke is making his way to The Weeping Child. He has been to this place several times, some because it was a known hiding spot for a particular target, others just for a place to stay for a night or two. If it is because of a target he always pays the manager behind the bar a small fee for his trouble and it is always accepted without a word.

  He knows about the stables behind The Weeping Child so before he enters he walks around back. The stable manager is sitting on a stool drinking an alcoholic beverage; he doesn’t look drunk so he hasn’t been drinking for long. Harke strides up to him in long imposing steps. The stable manager spots him and his eyes darken. This is a new manager; they haven’t seen each other before. But Harke doesn’t care, it makes no difference to him, one stable manager is the same as any other.

  “Two people came here some time ago; they came with two horses then went into The Weeping Child. Where are their horses?”

  The manager says nothing. His eyes staring at Harke remain dark. ‘He doesn’t like Cultists’. The manager stands up slowly, as if trying to be as imposing as Harke was walking up to him. He is angry to see it doesn’t work.

  “What’s it to you?”

  “That’s not your concern.”

  “And what if I make it my concern?”

  Harke suddenly takes out a small blade and places it against the stable manager’s thick neck. The manager lifts his head like he is trying to get away from it, but it just gives Harke easier access to his neck. The two stare each other down, hoping the other will back down first.

  “There’s no contract out for me.”

  Harke can hear the fear in his voice.

  “How would you know that?” Harke digs the blade in on the neck more, close enough to break the skin. He watches a tiny amount of blood slither down the neck and stop at the shirt.

  That breaks him, his brave face is gone and he looks close to crying.  His dark stare changes to one of desperation.

  “Please…”

  “Two people, horses, now!”

  He nods and creeps towards the stables with Harke’s blade still at his neck. The two walk slowly along until the manager stops forcing Harke to bump into him. For a second the blade is away from his neck but his fear is so great he doesn’t try to fight Harke, he just waits for Harke to straighten himself. He points to a horse familiar to Harke, then points to one next to it which is more familiar. The first is Olraym’s the second, more familiar one, is Trugaime’s.

  Harke unwinds his arm from the manager’s neck and shoves him out of the way. He slams into the wall and after getting back to his feet he runs back out. All the horses whine at the loud banging sound of him slamming into the wall, but calm down quickly. Harke walks to the first stable stall with Olraym’s horse inside.

  He cautiously opens the door, hearing it give a long moan as it opens, the gently walks inside. He raises his arms in a harmless pose made difficult by the blade still in his hand.  The horse kicks around but calms down; Harke closes the gap giving soothing words of encouragement.

  He reaches the horse and with his empty hand he pats it gently. The horse is now completely calm. The horse suddenly shrieks louder than before as the blade is forced into its neck. The horse jumps on its hind legs and tries to get away from Harke but he doesn’t let go. Instead he forces the blade further in until only the hilt is sticking out.

  The horse weakens and stops jumping on its hind legs, its struggles become nothing more than light shakes of the head. Harke is still holding on to both the blade by the hilt and the horse by the neck, though at first he had to move back and forth along with the horse.

  Soon the horse stops altogether and falls on its side. All the other horses are going wild, their hooves hitting the walls and shaking the stable, but the stable manager is too scared to enter. Harke takes the blade out in one smooth motion. It, his arm and most of the hay-covered floor is red with blood. He walks out and moves to the second horse. Since this one is wild like the others Harke doesn’t bother to enter. This time he takes out a long sword, he leans forward with his sword-wielding hand outstretched. It reaches the horse easily even when the horse is one its hind legs. With a degree of difficulty Harke raises the sword while still leaning over. He holds it still until his raised arm starts to shake the swipes it straight down, cutting the horse’s throat in a vertical line. The blood gushes as it whines in pain and falls just like the first one. 

  With both horses dead Harke walks back out the stables. The stable manager is sitting back on his stool drinking again, the time faster than before. He is close to being too drunk to sit up straight. Harke uses the man’s sleeve to clean the blood from both the small blade and the sword. The manager barely notices, he groans and says a few meaningless words then goes back to drinking.

  With the sword clean he sheathes it and hides the small blade. He walks back to the front and enters. He takes out a pouch and walks to the bar area. The man behind the bar watches him approach with the pouch and nods as Harke drops it onto the counter. Without opening the pouch the bar man takes it and puts it under the counter.

  “Who is it this time?” asks the bar man.

  “Two people came some time ago. Man and a woman,” the bar man listens carefully, there is a hint of recognition in his eyes but Harke feels he needs to give more, “the woman is like me.”

  This sets him off. He instantly knows who Harke is referring to and tells him what room they are staying in. Harke asks if they are in their room right now, the bar man says no. Harke gives a nod disappointed and after the bar man gives him a spare key to the room he walks up the stairs. He walks quickly until he arrives at the door. He opens it and looks inside. The room looks as if it has been tidied some time ago, the bed has been made and the room cleaned. Harke’s attention goes to a selection of items that don’t belong to the room: a pair of gloves that Harke knows to be Trugaime’s, and several half-open sacks. Harke smiles since this means they will be returning to this room, hopefully soon.

  He walks further to the next room and knocks. For a moment there is no sound on the other side, no sign anyone is inside. Hake knocks again to be safe, this time he hears two voices muffled by the door. Harke knocks a third time, this time louder, and he hears a creak and footfalls getting closer.

  The door opens a crack and Harke sees a part of a man’s face looking out at him. The single eye Harke can see is a light blue; it is portraying fear and irritation. What little hair he can see is a dirty blond. Without warning Harke kicks it open the rest of the way. The man falls back with a yelp. Now being able to see all of him the man on the ground is clean shaven and his blond hair is all over the place, strands over his other eye. He looks thin but healthy.

  A scream comes from the bed across the room. It is woman who looks similar to the man, probably brother and sister. The woman is fully dressed in grey and is sitting on the bed with her feet dangling inches from the floor. Her hands are over her mouth in shock of Harke forcing his way in. The man backs away on his hands and knees until he is next to his sister.

  Harke enters and but keeps the door open, then tells them both to keep their mouths shut. They do as ordered as the sister goes down to the floor and then giver her brother a tight hug. The two are shaking, their eyes firmly on Harke.

  “Who are you?” the brother asks.

  “That’s not your concern,” retorts Harke.

  Before the brother and sister can say anything else Harke then orders them out; they do as ordered again in a hurry. Harke then closes the door. He listens to the silence around him and waits for a noise to let him know Olraym and Trugaime are back.

 

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After leaving Morcale’s mansion Olraym doesn’t know what to do. If he does as Morcale asked then he will get the location of The Starlight Cult and hopefully get out of the trouble they are causing him. But Morcale is asking him to kill someone, someone he knows.

  The only other option is Trugaime telling him where they are, and that will never happen. She is too stubborn; the Cultists too close to her. While sometimes these qualities might be a good thing, this is not one of those times.

  “What should I do?” he asks Trugaime.

  “Find out who you need to kill,” is her quick reply.

  Olraym is thankful it isn’t a snide comment or joke, she is taking this seriously.

  “How will that help?”

  “When you find out who Morcale wants dead and how well you know this person then you can figure out if this is person you want dead as well. And then you can say how much you want to do it. Who knows it might be someone you want to kill”

  Olraym can see the validity of this statement but is nonetheless disgusted. She is talking as if he is going to kill anyway. Given the choice Olraym always chooses not to kill, even on the Tervunmal Islands he only killed when it was the only option.

  “Who says I want to kill?”

  “Is there any other option?”

  “We could eliminate the middle man and you could tell me where the Cult is.”

  Trugaime looks at him pleadingly for a moment then it turns to anger. “No chance of that happening.”

  Olraym lets out an irritated groan. “I won’t kill them.”

  This makes Trugaime stop and look at him. She always assumed he means to kill them, or at least most of them. But now he is saying different.

  “You won’t?”

  “No, I just want to get them to stop.”

  “Do you have any ideas on how?”

  “I was hoping you had an idea.”

  This disappoints her; she has never heard or read anything remotely about letting a target go willingly.

  “If you’re not going to tell me, and you don’t want me to go there, why aren’t you trying to stop me?”

  Trugaime is taken back by the question. ‘Why aren’t I?’ It could be her feelings, or it could be she actually wants him to meet the Cultists. Not in I kind of meet them and kill them or meet them and get killed. It is more of a meet my family kind of thing.

  In the end she says nothing and continues walking. Olraym shakes his head and follows.

  “Look I’m your prisoner or guide or whatever the hell you want to call it until this thing in Divinwood is done, the point is if I leave you will track me down until you catch me again, and if I kill you everyone else will do the same.”

  Olraym feels this is some attempt at an answer to herself as well as him. He is beginning to think she may have feelings for him.

  They decide to follow Morcale’s advice and go to a Temple of the Twelve. Inside they go to the far side to a Sister of the Twelve; she is completely covered head to toe in a thin white cloth. There are small holes for the eyes and a thin horizontal strip for the mouth but no other way to tell what she looks like. Since they don’t know who they are looking for they can only ask about strange looking people who came in recently, people out of place in the temple.

  In a low grading voice she asks them why they are asking these questions. Olraym tells her it is important and so she tells them to be more specific. They can’t be so ask who exactly who has been in, she tells them lots have come in, they asks if she remembers any of them. She says no and apologises. They thank her and she walks away.

  Before leaving they take a good long look at those praying in the temple. A mixture of bodies and faces either leaning forward slightly praying or leaning back as they converse. Old couples whisper to each other trying not to be overheard but are getting shushed by those beside them anyway, children are praying obediently as their parents sit beside them half watching the child half praying as well.

  No one looks familiar to Olraym. Whoever Morcale wants him to kill; they aren’t in the temple now.

  They leave the temple and think of anywhere else this person might be, but come with no answer. Olraym considers going back in and asking those inside praying to the Twelve about a strange person. But he doesn’t as he thinks that they will be less helpful than the Sister.

  Wanting to retrieve her gloves Trugaime tells Olraym they should head back to The Weeping Child, if anything else it will give him time to think things over. Olraym quickly agrees.

  The trek back is short and uncomfortable. The streets are busy and several times they have to change direction due to a large crowd that looks as if it is bearing down on all those who come close. There is an everlasting grinding sound of voices high and low mumbling and shouting. The taste of the nearby forsaken is in the air as well as the smell of something rotten.

  Olraym is glad when they leave those sights and smells and reach the familiar territory of The Weeping Child. They enter and go up the stairs to their room. Once inside Trugaime goes for her gloves and puts them on slowly, as if enjoying it like they are a part of her, like a second skin. Olraym watches this amused, he cracks a smile and shakes his head.

  “You want to be alone with your gloves?”

  “Huh, oh I’m sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry, just wondering what with all that you look as if you’re having a bit too much fun there.”

  “These gloves were a gift from my mother when I was young. She gave them to me when I reached the age; they are the last thing she gave me.”

  The fun mood is gone. Olraym knew Trugaime’s parents are Cultists too but it never really hit him they actually existed and maybe still doo him they were just ghost or characters in a story, just imaginary, not real. Discovering those gloves and the fact that something in this room connects them to them both changes that, makes them real people, makes Trugaime someone’s daughter.

  They look at the door as someone knocks. It is three consecutive knocks then nothing, then another three. Olraym looks to Trugaime for answers but he can see she has none. Trugaime readies her crossbow and poison darts while Olraym goes to answer the door.

 

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Harke waits near the door listening to anyone coming close. At times when he hears someone he cracks the door open and watches them as they go in to their rooms, none of which are the rooms or the people he wants. Every time it isn’t he closes the door and sighs. He wants Olraym to show up so he can kill him and finally go home and he wants Trugaime so he can teach her a lesson. No matter what you don’t betray family.

  With every false start he feels increasingly annoyed, how long will he be there? Where are they? These go through his head and once or twice he thinks of letting go and just not move when he hears noises again in the hall. But he always does. And he is always disappointed by what he sees, or what he doesn’t see.

  Just as he walks back from the door after another disappointing look through, he hears another set of noises. After listening carefully he finds it to be two distinct footfalls coming closer to him.  They suddenly stop a short distance from Harke’s door; he cracks it open and sees what he wants. It is Olraym and Trugaime as they open their door and enter.

  When their door closes Harke opens his all the way and exits the room, he sneaks to their room not wanting his approach to be heard.  From their room he can hear muffled voices but nothing else. His heart is pumping loud in his ears. He feels a trickle of sweat making its way down the left side of his face. Once in front of the door he takes a deep cleansing breath and takes out his small blade, then knocks on the door three times.

  The voices inside have stopped, Harke waits then knocks three more times. He hears someone being careful as they move to the door. As soon as the door starts opening Harke kicks it forcing it to fly open.

  The first thing he sees as he rushes into the room is Olraym falling back onto the floor in a similar fashion as the man in the other room, the second is Trugaime’s poison dart flying past his head and lading on the door frame. Trugaime rushes him but he swipes her in the face with his fist, she spins sideways by the force of the hit and lands next to the bed. Olraym starts getting off the floor so Harke walks over to him to deliver a swift kick to the side, before his foot makes contact Olraym grabs it and trips him.

  A sharp pain smacks him in the back of the head as it hits the floor. He feels dazed and his vision is blurry. He hears mumblings and noises from far away; he moves his head so he can look around. The noises are Olraym and Trugaime moving, getting back on their feet. Olraym gets up first, then goes to check on Trugaime. When she stands and looks to Harke he finds a trickle of blood forming on her right eyebrow.

  The two try to leave but Harke gets to his knees and dives for Olraym. His small blade lands in Olraym leg electing a scream of pain from him.  Trugaime kicks Harke away dazing him again. Olraym’s hand goes to the blade’s hilt and tries to get it out, his whole body shaking so bad Trugaime has to hold him up with one hand across her shoulder in a tight grip and both her hands around his waist. Slowly the blade is dug out, Olraym stops shaking and his grip on Trugaime’s shoulder relaxes. Trugaime notices Hake getting to his feet so she grabs the bloodied blade and aimlessly tosses it at him. It misses Harke and bounces off the wall next to the window and clinks on the floor.

  Before Olraym and Trugaime can leave the room Harke shoves Trugaime away making Olraym lose his delicate balance. Hake grabs Olraym by his shirt collar and tosses him so the side of his face hits the window. The window doesn’t shatter but it cracks in a spider web pattern that is focused mainly on the window’s centre. Olraym slumps to the ground, his legs lying out in front of him and his arms slumped at his sides.

  Harke rushes Olraym and kicks him in the stomach, Olraym eyes widen in pain and his breathe is forced out of him. Harke is about to kick him again but feels pain in the back as Trugaime does the same to him; she keeps hold of Harke until he hits the window this time the window shatters and Trugaime throws him through it. Trugaime watches as if surprised by the window shattering until Harke hits the dirty ground outside. Gasps of shock erupt from everyone who witnesses this and crowds around Harke. None try to help him, they’re smarter than that, it’s not their business and they know not to get involved. They wonder if he is dead: he isn’t moving and the fall looks pretty high to some of them.

  Harke, thankful the ground he landed on is soft due to the mud, groans and starts to stand, feeling pain in his lower back. When he gets to his knees the crowd around him takes a step back, giving him room while getting out of his reach at the same time.

  He gains balance with his legs wide apart and his arms slightly pointing outward so his hands are just above waist level. He takes a few steps to the stables knowing that is where they would go, his feet stay apart and his body moves side to side with them.

  One man from the crowd starts walking to him, mostly likely to help him, but Harke has none of it and takes out his sword. The crowd backs away more and the Good Samaritan runs back to the crowd. 

  When she hears the thud she takes charge and lifts Olraym to his feet again. A small bruise forms on his cheek and Trugaime can tell it will get worse over time. She half carries him half drags him out the room. Others from the rest of the rooms are in the hall wondering what the commotion was, their questions answered by the sight of Olraym being held up by Trugaime. They back away and give them room when Trugaime gets close and shouts at them to do so.

  They get down the stairs; Trugaime’s grip on Olraym tightens making him whimper in pain and accidently put too much pressure on his bleeding leg and nearly falls down. Everyone in the main bar area is standing; they heard the fight as well. The bar man is watching them with surprise and fear.

  “What happened?” he shouts out making others look at him.

  Trugaime knows he is the best guess at who told Harke where to find her and Olraym and probably which room they in, so she knows he is trying to act innocent. She gives him a look that tells him to be careful, she may return later and deal with him. He looks away and makes himself look busy.

  Trugaime and Olraym forces the door open and move out into the street.

  “Horses,” Olraym mumbles. Trugaime nods and gets a better grip on him.

  They pay no attention to the crowd and move around The Weeping Child to the stables. In their hurry they fail to notice Harke is no longer on the ground, he is gone. The stable manager is on the muddy ground, Trugaime thinks he is dead but he mumbles something and raises his hand directly above him in a kind of salute to something Trugaime can’t hear. He is just drunk.  They go past him and into the stables. Inside Trugaime drags Olraym to the stall door of his horse and carefully lays him down to a sitting position.

  Harke watches them from behind the door of an empty stall. He feels sad by the sight of Trugaime’s bloody eyebrow, but not by Olraym’s bruise or bleeding leg. At that he feels satisfaction. He smiles inwardly at the sight of that bruise knowing it will get worse, and a lot of blood is coming from his leg he may lose it if he survives.

  Olraym has gained some composure since leaving the room in The Weeping Child and he breathes better. But the pain in his head is keeping him from feeling better completely, the pain pulses from good to bad and back to good over and over again. He touches the bruise gently with the tip of a finger which sharpens the pain and he quickly removes it. He closes his eyes and tries to relax, then opens them and watches out the stable entrance for Harke.

  Trugaime looks inside the stall to find the horse dead, blood flowing from a savage slice leaving almost nothing untouched. She rushes to her own horse to find the same thing. She readies her crossbow with another poison dart and makes her way back to Olraym.

  “S**t! They’re dead.”

  “What? What was that?”

  “The horses, they’re both dead.”

  Harke watches her moves from one to the next, watches her prepare another shot for her crossbow, and waits for her as she returns to Olraym’s side. He makes a scratching noise, just loud enough to get their attention. It works and both of them look over to the empty stall. After a quick look at each other and a nod from Olraym signalling he is OK Trugaime inches herself towards the stall with her crossbow aiming high.  He makes a second scratching noise, Trugaime stops and bends her knees to get into a better position and then waits. When nothing happens she inches forward again.

  Harke watches with increasing anticipation as Trugaime is two feet from him and closing. Although she is in reach of his sword he doesn’t take a chance, he wants a good solid hit that will knock her out not a glancing blow that will make her lose her balance if he is lucky.

  With the angle he is in he loses sight of her upper body when she gets too close. He watches her feet and listens to her breathing, it doesn’t change from the slow pace she is working hard to keep. He looks upward to see her arm wielding crossbow hovering inside the stall over the stall door. He waits; the arm is still, not shaking, she is remembering what the others at the Cult taught her. What he taught her.

  When enough of her arm is through the door Harke raises suddenly, grabs her arm and forces it high. Trugaime squeals and accidently fires it into the roof, she takes hold if his hand and tries to dislodge it. His grip on her arm is strong, her fingers digging into his skin. She tries to punch him but Harke ducks his head making her punch hit only air. In return he punches her, then a second time, then a third time. All of his punches connect with her face, by the end she slumps down, her legs give out and she is only standing because of Harke’s grip on her arm that is now above the rest of her. Not unconscious but close enough for Harke to be satisfied.

  He lets her dangle then lets her drop. He feels angry that he had to hit her, but tells himself to thinks of punishment for himself later. He looks to Olraym, who is now almost on his feet, opens the door and moves purposefully to him. Harke raises his sword and swipes at him, cutting his arm making him scream in pain. Within seconds his shirt is stained with his blood. Olraym cradles it and shakily backs away from Harke; Harke follows with his sword pointing at Olraym in an upward angle.

  With his bad leg Olraym can’t move fast so Harke is able to keep up and stay close enough to continue striking. Some of his swipes don’t hit Olraym as he dives out of the way making Harke hit one of the wooden stalls.

  Having enough Harks changes tactics and goads Olraym into coming to him; telling him he is weak and Trugaime cannot save him. Telling him that after he is done with him Harke will go after his family, his mother and sister first.

  It works but too soon. Harks isn’t ready when Olraym finally yells out and rushes him. Harke strikes out with the sword but before it can go anywhere Olraym crashes into him, knocking the wind out of him. Olraym lifts him off his feet and carries him forward; Harke is bumped around on Olraym’s shoulder due to his limping with the bloody leg.  When Olraym gets tired he then throws Harke on the ground. Harke lets go of his sword and it slides away. Olraym limps toward it fast, cringing in pain as he puts pressure on his bad leg.  He lens down, needing to stand on his good leg and lift his bad leg, and picks up Harke’s sword.

  Trugaime regains consciousness and looks for Olraym, she finds him with a sword in his hand and Harke on his back. She knows this might be it, Harke might die right here. This is the true test for her, which side she will be on. She questions herself on whether or not she wants this. She tries to get to her feet then slips, then tries again and succeeds. 

  “Olraym…Olraym!”

   Olraym stops moving and looks to her. She doesn’t know why she is stopping him, and then thinks maybe she shouldn’t after what Harke did to her. With one hand on the stall door she walks closer to Olraym. Olraym waits for her until she is next to him.

  “Your mother will be so disappointed in you.”

  Trugaime turns to Harke. He is still on his back but his head is up looking at her. His head is bleeding on the side near the back; it isn’t a big cut but looks big enough to be dangerous in Olraym and Trugaime’s eyes.

  “She gave you everything, she could. We all did. And now you turn your back on us for him.” He gestures furiously to Olraym.

  Trugaime looks as furious as Harke. She stares at him with unblinking eyes. She takes a few more steps forward, towards Harke.

  “How dare you. How DARE you use her against me.”

  She suddenly takes the sword from Olraym’s hands and moves to Harke until the sword is inches from him.

  “Your mother knew what was required by her for the Cult, she knew the difference between true love and a little girly crush,” he gestures to Olraym, “that’s all this is. As soon as he’s done whatever he’s doing he’ll discard you.”

  “Like the Cult did, when I failed?”

  “Exactly, you failed. You know the rules, we all abide by them, and instead if taking your failure with grace you side with him.”

  “I sided with him because…”

  “Why, tell me.”

  “…because I love him.”

  There is silence, Harke isn’t shocked, he has known about it since she knocked him down during his first assassination attempt on Olraym. Olraym on the other hand is shocked. But not because is a big surprise but because he didn’t know she would admit it, and isn’t sure he will admit it now as well. 

  “You won’t kill me.”

  “Don’t make me.”

  Harke suddenly starts to stand and is about to rush her but this time she is ready for him, this time she starts to swing the sword the second she sees movement. The sword swings from a high angle making that whistling sound through the air, until it lands with a sickening thud as it lands on Harke’s head. 

  He immediately slumps down, his arms that were up about to attack her now fall down and dangle above the ground. His head stuck in the sword, his now dead eyes staring straight up at it, leaving only the white visible to Trugaime.

  “Trugaime,” Olraym says in a low voice. Trugaime lets go of the sword, letting Harke fall, and turns around. She forgot he is there. “I’m so sorry.”

  Tears form in her eyes. She shakes her head, not wanting to hear this, not wanting to be here anymore. Olraym limps over to her and wraps his arms around her; she does the same and lets her tears flow.

  “I’m so sorry,” he says again.

  Trugaime nods understanding, as if he has said something of great importance. She is thankful for his words but part of her doesn’t want them. She wants something else.

  Olraym releases her from the hug and stares into her eyes. The tears give her eyes a kind of shine. Like the sun is shining on them. 

  “I love you too.”

  Trugaime smiles, with the tears it looks almost sad but not quite. This is what she wants to hear. Without hesitation the two embrace in a passionate kiss, their hands all over each other. The stench of death around them, their bleeding injuries, and the fight that caused them all forgotten as their hands roam each other’s backs and their tongues roam each other’s mouths.