Chapter 9 Part 1

Danger in the Dark

Fortunately Gage’s injury was not severe. With Kraal’s assistance, Dylan gathered the remains of their belongings on the shore.

“The sun has risen,” Kraal assured him. “They won’t return until nightfall, and we’ll be long gone by then.”

Gage rubbed his head. He was still groggy, but he had regained consciousness from the magical attack in time to see his apprentice successfully cast the sleep spell. “Dylan,” he called to the boy.

Dylan approached his master and knelt where the mage was sitting. “How are you, master?”

Gage smiled and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I am well. The magic missiles were more painful than anything else. I was not without defenses.” The mage appraised the youth. Dylan was swaying slightly. The drain of the spell was hitting him harder than he was openly showing. The boy had pride and courage.

“You did very well,” Gage told him. “You may have very well saved all our lives. I am proud of you.”

Dylan took the praise humbly. Privately he had been thrilled that the spell had functioned so well and that it had been his magic that had cast it. At the time, though, he had simply been terrified and acted in desperation.

Coran’s injuries, were somewhat more severe, and Gage tended his brother’s hurts as best as he could given their lack of supplies and the fact that they were on foot. For the most part, Coran rode on Kraal’s back. The centaur also was showing signs of minor injury, but said nothing.

“Where to?” Gage asked as he conferred with the Janusian.

“Gryden Creek isn’t too far away,” Kraal suggested. “We can make that by tomorrow night. Calista and her family’re still living there. We should be able to get resupplied there, and get Coran patched up.”

They stopped early. Coran’s wounds were serious, but his need for rest was even more pressing. His breathing was labored, and his skin felt clammy. He drifted in and out of consciousness with increasing frequency.

“If we march late into the night, his health will deteriorate more rapidly. The rest will help him retain a little of his strength for tomorrow. When we get to Gryden Creek, we will find help.”

Dylan felt a sense of belonging that night and the next day. He did more than just respond to his master’s orders or tend to his regular chores. He went out of his way to assume the responsibility for other things to lighten the load placed on Kraal, Gage and especially Coran.

When morning arrived, the warrior looked a little better, but was still in very bad shape. Kraal confided to the apprentice that wounds inflicted by the undead would not heal naturally. Only a priest or healer could bind Coran’s wounds, and if left unchecked, the warrior would grow weaker and weaker until he eventually died. Then with the setting of the sun, Coran would arise as a vampire himself.

The very thought of Coran coming after him as a vampire sent chills up Dylan’s spine.

“That’s terrible,” he proclaimed. “But at least he’d be alive, wouldn’t he?”

“Not really,” Gage answered. “Being undead is very similar to being possessed. When an undead body arises, it is taken over by a minor demon or devil. They do not have the power to control a living body as the greater demons and devils do. So they take over a dead body and use it. Coran’s spirit would be taken to Hell or the Abyss and enslaved there until his undead body was destroyed.” The mage sighed. “For the love of my brother, one of us, me, my uncles or my father, would have to kill him to set his soul free.”

“I don’t foresee that as being a problem,” Kraal stated. “We’re not far from a village that has friends. Once there, we can get help for him and he’s not in any immediate danger of dying.”

“I’d always heard that vampires bit their victims,” Dylan questioned. He recollected the tales told late at night in the common house on the plantation.

“They bite to feed,” Gage told him. “It kills faster, but is not the only way that they can kill. They can use magic or they claw with talon like hands.”

Dylan noted Coran, slumped in a seated position on Kraal’s back. The warrior was deathly pale. He swayed wearily with each passing moment.

The hours and miles both passed slowly, but by mid afternoon, they arrived at their destination. Gryden Creek was a good sized village. Several large buildings were huddled near an aqueduct where water from the flue fed several waterwheels and applied power to some hidden workings within.

“The mills are owned by Calista’s father,” Gage told his student. “They manufacture a very strong form of fabric here.”

“That would be Crystal’s grandfather?”

“Yes,” Gage answered. “Crystal and her mother manage a tavern near the edge of town, near the temple.”

They located the tavern with no problems, and when they helped the terribly weakened Coran through the door, Crystal immediately dropped an arm load of dirty drinking vessels and rushed over to them.

“What happened,” she demanded.

“We were attacked by vampires in a village about two days walk from here. We lost our mounts and wagon. Coran took some serious damage in the battle.” Gage helped Kraal sit the groggy warrior on a bench. Coran slumped forward onto the table. “Is your father around?”

“No,” Crystal answered. “He’s in Keron, but there are several clerics at the temple. They should be able to heal these wounds.” She helped Coran to his feet. “Why didn’t you call your father? He could’ve cured this.”

“We do not summon father unless it is a matter of life and death,” Gage told her.
Leaving Kraal at the tavern, they walked Coran outside and down the street to the temple. It was a well-kept building with fresh paint and beautiful beds of multicolored flowers. There were two young men diligently tending the landscaping. They hummed in unison with each other and paid little attention to the approaching party.

Crystal opened the foyer door and led Coran and the others through. “Those monks are brothers of The Hive,” she told them. “They serve here and help out with the upkeep of the temple. Father likes The Hive.”

Crystal closed the door behind them and then picked up a small striker and rang a bell that was displayed on a table. The chime sounded with a high pitch.

Several seconds later, the heavy door to the sanctuary opened and a middle-aged man with a hint of gray at the crest of his hair stepped into the foyer. “May the blessings of the Creator be upon you all,” he greeted them with a bow.

Gage, and Crystal did likewise. Dylan mimicked his master.

“Father Sneva,” Crystal began. “We have a traveler who was injured in battle with the undead. We seek the divine healing power of the Creator to restore his health.”

“The healing hand of the Creator is given freely to those who work in His name. If it be His will, thy comrade will be healed.” The priest stepped aside and beckoned them to enter the sanctuary.

Dylan had been schooled in the basic structure of the cleric system. Theirs was a similar method of training as were the mages, but the clergy emphasized faith, obedience and meditation instead of the magi method of knowledge, study and research.

Down the rows of benches where the faithful would sit to hear the sermons, the priest led them. Near the front was an altar where an assortment of symbolic items was arranged amidst a bed of flowers.

The priest knelt briefly as he passed before the altar. Crystal and Gage did likewise and Dylan again mimicked his master’s movements. He had not been schooled in the ritual of the church, so when in doubt, he relied upon the actions of the others to avoid giving insult.

The priest walked around behind the altar and took a single flower from the altar top. He kissed the blossom and then slowly caressed Coran’s forehead with it. Then he lay the flower back upon the altar.

Beside the altar was a podium upon which a large book lay. The priest opened the book and read several lines of the text aloud in an unfamiliar tongue. Then he again reached out and placed his hand upon Coran’s chest.

The temple interior became silent. The light in the room grew and the fragrance of the flowers was replaced with that of a freshly fallen rain.

Coran inhaled sharply and jerked his body erect. Then he blinked and looked around. “What happened?”

“His will be done,” the priest chanted as he turned back toward the altar and began to give thanks.

Coran rubbed his head and yawned. “I remember the village and the vampires, but not much after that.”

“Do you remember making a stand in the shallows of that river?” Gage asked.

“No,” Coran admitted.

Gage chuckled. “That is just as well then.” He turned to the priest. “We thank you for your aid.”

“Go in peace,” the priest replied with outstretched hands. “As you seek so shall you find.”
Crystal led them out of the temple. As the outer doors closed behind her, she sighed.

“The father can be a little stuffy at times,” she said. “He has a good heart, but sometimes he takes his position a little too seriously.”

Crystal led them all back to the tavern. Coran immediately ordered a cup of ale as he sat at the table nearest the fire.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Crystal scolded him. “You’ve just undergone a divine healing and you’re not about to drink tonight.”

Gage laughed. “Sorry, brother mine, but she is right. You would be drunk before you finished the first cup.”

“All the more reason to have one then,” Coran objected with a grin. “I can get one heck of a buzz without going broke to do it.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Crystal told him.

Dylan sat next to the warrior. Gage joined them. “Where’s Kraal,” Coran asked.

“He is around somewhere,” Gage answered. “He may have gone to the stables to try and locate more mounts. Your horse was killed in the fight.”

Coran closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “I’ll miss that animal. He was a good friend.”

“He went down fighting,” Gage said.

Crystal returned with a cup of wine and two cups of water. The wine she gave to Gage. “Mother’ll be so glad to see you.”

“Where is she?” Coran asked.

“She’s at the mill with grandfather. They’re thinking about starting another mill up in Seron.”

“Are things going that well?” Gage asked.

“As of last year,” Crystal explained, “we’re officially rich.”

“Rich?”

“Rich enough that grandfather could buy himself a barony with Tycho,” she answered.

“I didn’t know that nobility could be bought or sold,” Dylan commented.

“Only baronies can be bought,” Gage replied. “Higher rankings can only bestowed by a royal order from the king and even then a generation must pass before a purchased barony can be elevated to the rank of count.”

“How long’ll you be visiting,” Crystal asked.

“A few days, I suppose,” Gage answered. “We want Coran to have time to recover fully before setting out again. We are headed up to see mother and father before pressing onward to Tycho. I am going to do some research there and Dylan, here is going to help me.”

“Well be careful on the road,” Crystal sighed. “There has been talk of attacks between here and Tycho.”

“Bandits?” Coran asked. “I thought the Tycarian Militia had thinned that rabble out.”

Coran’s tone was full of frustrations. As an officer in that paramilitary unit, he had taken a great deal of pride in the lack of rogue activity on the highways between villages under Tycarian protection.

“Actually it’s not bandits that’re causing trouble,” Crystal objected, “From what I hear it’s mostly zombies, skeletons and ghouls.”

“More undead?” Coran asked amazed.

“They’re crawling out of the woodwork,” Crystal confirmed. “And it’s driving your father crazy. Even he can’t cover the entire region.”

“There has never been an undead problem in this part of the world,” Gage complained. “Now there are vampires, skeletons, zombies and ghouls in abundance.”

“And devils,” Dylan added.

“What?” Gage asked at the interruption.

“When we visited Keron, Crystal’s father received a visitor who reported the appearance of devils in the Southlands,” Dylan explained.

“Dylan’s right,” Crystal agreed. “I remember that.”

“This is moving beyond the realm of coincidence,” Coran noted. “Is father aware of all these appearances?”

“I’m sure that he’s aware of those in the vicinity,” Crystal answered. “I can guarantee he doesn’t know about the village of vampires or else he would’ve done something about it already. And, I doubt he’s heard of the devils in the southlands.”

“I will fill him in when I see him,” Gage decided. “Just as soon as Coran is back to traveling strength, we will head on up that way.”

“I think I’ll go with you,” Crystal offered. “I haven’t seen your folks in a long time. Rathe probably will want to go too.”

“Rathe? Is he here too?” Coran asked.

“He’s been here for a few weeks. He was about to go back up to Tycho soon. Mr. Thundersledge has the freighter that Rathe is first mate on in dry dock getting refitted. Rathe came down to visit until the ship’s ready to run again.”

“Well, between the six of us we should be safe enough,” Coran decided. “Rathe can fight well enough. So we could leave earlier if you want to.”

“No,” Gage objected. “There is no rush. Let us wait a few days.”

Dylan found himself in the company of Crystal for the most part of the next two days. Gage studied and sat with Coran while Kraal and Rathe, a Minotaan, drank heavily at the tavern. Just as Dylan’s first exposure to the centaur had been quite an experience, so too was his introduction to the Minotaan. Rathe was almost ten feet in height and just as powerfully built. The creature’s thighs were each the size of Dylan’s own waist. His body was a very deep red, almost black, in color, and his head very closely resembled that of a bull. The only exception was that the nostrils were slightly smaller and the skull was a bit wider allowing both eyes to face forward. Two shiny black horns curled upward and came to sharp well-groomed points.

The Minotaan greeted Dylan with a smile and a laugh that shook the room. Kraal and he tempted the boy with an offer of wine, but Crystal would not hear of it and chastised the huge pair to great lengths. Her comparatively tiny frame stood on a stool shaking her finger at them with the other hand on her hip, while yelling at the top of her lungs. The scene had Coran laughing uncontrollably in spite of his injuries and after several moments, she turned a cool eye to him as well. The warrior went silent and resumed studying the bottom of the bowl of soup that he had been eating.