Desolation

“Tears are words that need to be written.” 
  -  Paulo Coelho

           

Desolation

            Bryson stood at the window, once again, looking out over the buildings as the night sky weighed heavy on the city of Valencia. Today would be the sixth day Lily had been gone. Luke was feeling it also. He had been awake each of the eight times the poor child had tossed himself awake. Bryson tried, as he did every time, to brush away the boys’ worries, and his own as well, with a story before bed but it wasn’t doing Luke anymore good that it was Bryson. The boy was growing too old for stories before bed and it showed as he invented even worse fears for his mother than Bryson had inside his own head.

            Bryson ran his hand through his hair as he made his down the steps to the shop. Work for the days to come would be grueling. Not only was it one of the hottest days towards the end of summer, but Gill had taken on another order of weapons for the castle guard including daggers, swords, maces, axes, and spears. A lot of work for only one man and a short round shop keep. He passed through the shop looking over the forge, anvil and workbench. He didn’t stop as he made his way through the wide doorway facing down the length of the Fallthrough. The baker’s shop was towards the “brighter” end of the ally way and he wanted to see that Luke had made it on time and unharmed again before starting this dreaded day. He stopped shy of the window not wanting to interrupt the boy or embarrass him, which usually happens with his sons' young pride. Thankfully, the boy was already hard at work on the ovens and not a scratch could be seen on him.

            The boy had a knack for finding trouble and always insisted on solving it then and there instead of letting it pass. Bryson had to admit that he was mainly at fault for the bullheadedness and deep under the false frown he had to put on each time in front of Lily, he was proud that his son stood up for himself and the other small and weaker children. He backed away from the window slowly and turned heading back towards the shop with his head hung low. He paused turning his head slightly as trumpets behind him, towards the front gates, began to sound signaling the kings’ return from the hunt.

            “Their early………….odd” He said to himself as he continued on, wondering why the extra day hadn't been spent as usual with festivities, hunting and sitting around the fire getting drunk on wine.

              That was how Lily had described the goings on of the hunts she had been a part of. Nothing ominous or foreboding came to mind as he closed the space between the baker’s and the blacksmith shop, on the contrary. Bryson was actually excited that his wife had returned a day early. At least he would get to see her sooner than he thought, a bright spot on a black day of heat and sore muscles. As he came to the corner across from the shop thinking of ways to celebrate her coming home and what to have for dinner with a smile on his face as three children zipped past almost taking his left leg out from under him with only a distant apology as they kept barreling past. He took a second look towards the speeding children fading out of sight, wondering for a moment, if he had heard the child say something about an attack. He turned back crossing the ally way a little more cautious as he ran it over in his head.

            The sound of keys clinking together caught his attention as he looked up noticing Gill standing at the door with his back turned.

            “Lock yourself out after one of your late nights again I see.”

            “Not in the slightest Mr. Adams.” For some reason Bryson had never known Gill to use his first name. It was always Mr. Adams or just simply Adams. It never bothered him much though. The pay was the important thing and as long as that stayed steady and regular Bryson didn’t care what he was called.

            “The king has made a short trip of his hunt this go-around, or should I say the hunt has made a short trip of the king instead. News of an attack on the king came late last night. Word trickled down and we’re to have that order of weapons ready and waiting as soon as we possibly can. I’m closing up the shop for today to honor our king but first thing tomorrow I’ll need you down here slinging steel and pounding hammers as quick as possible. You should see if you can talk your boy, Luke, into helping you out a little tomorrow. I’ll pay him twice what that silly baker is paying him and he might actually learn something useful over here. Lady knows the gold from the castle will cover it.”

            “Sure I’ll see if Merl will let Luke have tomorrow off on good behavior” Bryson said distractedly as he looked over his shoulder back towards the gate, worry thick in his mind now at Gill’s words.

            “So, were done here? No work today?” He said still looking towards the gates.

            “No, no work today Adams, but you’d better get rested up though. Tomorrow is another story entirely. “

            Bryson nodded as he walked away, waving to Gill over his shoulder absentmindedly, as the man yelled something he couldn’t understand. His steps seemed slightly quicker than usual as he turned closing the space, once again, to the baker’s shop. Something wasn’t right and he didn’t need to think hard about what fears were waiting for him once he mentally started going through what may have happened. He paused at the bakery looking in through the window again, hoping that the news had not reached the backer yet. He nodded to the baker as he pushed the door open, and took hold of Luke’s arm when he walked close enough to grab.

            Merl, smiled as he looked up to see Bryson taking up almost the entire doorway. He brushed the flour off his hands and arms onto his apron as he walked across the bakery, taking Bryson’s’ hand in a greeting. 

           “The king’s returned. Heard there was some bad news traveling with him too, but I thought it better keep the lad working. The crowds do tend to get a little overrun on his returns” The words flew out of his mouth, like a waterfall of worry, landing on Luke’s head as he turned to look up at his father.

            “I was just going to the front gate to see why they had come back a day early, and to hopefully claim my wife before she gets caught up by the crowd as well. Mind if I steal Luke away from you for a few days? Gill Forstar over at The Forge & Hammer was asking if I could bring my son to help out for a few days since we’ve got such a big order and only a little time to do it in.”

            Bryson was impatiently waiting halfway out the doorway on Merls’ answer. He was trying so hard to hide the worry and panic rising up in his chest.

            “Not at all Bryson, your son is very handy around the shop and I appreciate all the time he gives me. Enjoy your few days off little man” Merl’s eyes were reading Bryson’s face like a book, as everyone else did as well. He nodded as Bryson waved a quick and short farewell, pulling his son along through the doorway. Luke’s voice came in quick and straining sounds as he was pulled rapidly to the end of the ally way, where people hard already started coming out of their shops to see the arrival of the king.

            “Dad, I heard the horns. That means mom’s back doesn’t it? Dad…..Dad slow down!” But instead Bryson pulled Luke up into his arms to make weaving in and out of the growing crowd quicker.

            The trade district was crowded on a normal day. Full of merchants, buyers, beggars, horses and carts full of everything from cheap swords and armor to meat, vegetables and sweets. Today it would be shoulder to shoulder with no room for a child under foot. No one bothered rushing the gate anymore, since the king would be coming straight through the trade district with his game and prize kills strung up on poles and carried by guards to show off his skill at hunting. Bryson, however, wasn’t interested in waiting or seeing the slaughtered animals. He held Luke tightly to him in one massive arm and began pushing his way through the crowd as gently as possible for a large muscular half crazed man worried and racked with fear for his wife. He continued on until the front gate was in plain sight and arrived just in time to see the gate being pulled up for the procession.

            Normally the horsemen came through first, holding the banners of the kings’ crest and clearing the street for the guards carrying game. This time, however, there were only horses and a few carts carrying the entire trips worth of game. No where near as luxurious as normal. Two horses to each cart and two carts full of the bloody carcasses of deer, rabbits, wolves and random birds stacked on top of one another like blankets thrown in a chest. Behind them were guards both on horseback and walking who were bandaged and bloodied, and who looked to have had a horrible time from the trip. Bryson’s heart sank as he saw the guards’ number, remembering how many had left with the king on his exit through the city gates. There were roughly less than a third remaining and most if not all were injured. Then the carts of bodies appeared. The remaining soldiers and followers Bryson had not seen among the injured troops were not left in the forest but carefully layed one on top of the other in three large carts covered with cloth to keep the flies and insects off of them as much as possible. Behind the carcass wagons were two stunning black horses. Friesian perhaps, from the look of it. Pulling behind them the kings' chariot draped with the kings family crest over the windows. The horses were well groomed and outfitted in their gold parade tack. The carriage was, of course, carrying the slain king. Everyone could tell but no one was brave enough to speak the words. Sobs and moans echoed from the crowd as the king slowly passed by. The cots were behind the chariot, carrying the guards and followers that were too injured to walk or barely held onto life. Most of the crowd were not interested in anything past the king and whispers broke out of what would happen in the following weeks. Bryson however, had zoned in on the cots as the shock of the kings’ death carriage rolled away revealing them in multitude being carried by volunteers and men that had been pulled into service from the surrounding villages.

            Bryson slide under the arm of one of the guards that was struggling to keep up on his own, still holding Luke in the other arm.

            “Good sir, can you tell me anything of the survivors? My wife was among the servants and followers from the castle. Lily was her name. She had long black hair and a slender build. She was known mostly for her voice. Does that description sound familiar?”

            The soldier nodded limping along and looking ahead miserably.

“If Lily was her name then she sounds like one of the survivors. And yes her voice was one that a man should never forget. She’s not well by any means but the men brought the living by cot and most of those who had fallen fit into the carts….so many dead. If only we had taken more guards with us then no one would have to face the Lady. The king……I can’t believe the king is gone. What will we do now?”

            Luke’s voice sounded far away as Bryson turned scanning over the cots being carried behind him.

            “Dad………Dad is mom gonna be ok? Did he say the king’s dead?”

Bryson only nodded as he looked for Lily’s black hair among the mass over bobbing bodies. It reminded him of a massive wave of flesh and body parts as the carriers fell into step. He spoke numbly as he stroked his sons’ hair back trying to calm him.

            “Yes son, that’s was that man said. Mother will be fine, we just have to help her a little more around the house till she gets to feeling better, that's all”

            Bryson helped the man as far as the next street corner, looking back the entire time as they walked, watching the cots veer off towards the infirmary. The soldier let go of Bryson’s arm with a nod of thanks and acknowledgment.

            “God speed sir. Thank you and I hope you find her well.” Bryson was already gone. Weaving and ducking in and out of the crowd and around bystanders till he caught a glimpse of the cots carrying the survivors. As he neared them once again a hand grasped the forearm that was holding Luke, almost spilling the boy onto the ground. Without a second thought Bryson tried pulling away. He needed to get to Lily. The grip was stronger than he expected and did not let him go. “Sir, I don’t have the time for…….”

            As he spun around, his face red with anger, he saw a sorrowful Gill standing there motioning for him to hand the boy over to him. He handed the boy to the short shop owner as his face cooled to the numb feeling that had been creeping into him, realizing what Gill intended.

            “Go. I’ll tend to the boy till you return. We’ll be at the shop until then. I spotted her for only a second before I noticed you racing through the crowd. He shouldn’t see her like this. I’ll see how long we can put the work on hold. Just go. She was towards the front of the line when I saw her. Two or three rows back behind the kings’ carriage. Lady rest his soul and may she have mercy on us for the days to come. Now hurry, before they make it too far.”

            Bryson laid a hand on Gill’s shoulder for a moment in thanks before looking over to Luke. His teary eyes said it all with no words needed. It took everything he had level his voice out in the fatherly tone he used so often.

            “No worries Luke. I’ll go check on your mother and be back with good news shortly. No need for you to see all that nastiness your mother is always trying to spare you from. She would only be upset I had brought you around it anyhow.”

            He kissed the boys head and roughed up his hair as he turned quickly, not giving Luke the chance to protest and before the boy could see the worry written as clear as red writing all over his fearless father’s face. In an instant he was at almost a dead run. Dodging in and out of the other people following their loved ones Bryson caught back up to the procession in no time. Swiftly, his eyes ran over the bodies being carried, counting the rows starting at the back. Twice he stopped thinking he had found her and twice he was proven wrong as he closed the distance between himself and the body on the cot. As he began moving among the thick of the bodies Bryson noticed the overpowering smell of rot and decay. He covered his mouth with the collar of his shirt forcing himself not to gag as the smell began to make his stomach turn and his head spin. He couldn’t stop. He had to find her before they took her into the infirmary.

            Finally, he rushed up to the cot with Lily laying on it still as if death had taken her already. They were just at the massive doorway to the infirmary. “My wife” was all he could choke out between the smells, the gagging feeling and choking back the tears as he took her cold clammy hand. Bryson only got a few moments to hold Lily’s hand before the guards posted at the entrance quickly pushed him back a few steps allowing the men carrying the cot and his wife to continue though the doorway and out of sight.

            “No one goes in. Not until the healers and nurses have cleared the bodies of any contagious infections and the like. If one of the survivors is of relation to you then you’re to meet in front of the inner courtyard entrance tomorrow midday for news of your loved ones and when you will be allowed to see them again. So says the king.”

            Bryson was fuming. His chest swelled as he planned his attack on the fools standing between himself and Lily. He had no weapons but the one guard was small. Snatch the pike, stab. Kick to the groin, break the small one’s neck and I’m in. As he took a step towards his plan of action he heard the sound of more swords being drawn. Bryson looked behind him to see three more guards to his right all armed and ready to strike down any opposition. Bryson balled his fists as face did not lessen in color. He stepped back down on the step he had originally been placed by the guard.
            “The king is dead! We all saw the carriage pass ……”

            Once again the guard shoved him, more forcefully this time, down a few more steps. Both guards standing in front of him lowered their pikes leveling the tips at his chest.

            “You will keep your mouth shut you miserable pig!” The king was only tired and did not feel the need to wave to you poor ignorant fools. Why he lowers himself to even acknowledge sad pigheaded beggars like you, I’ll never understand. Now back away or the next time you see daylight or your precious little wife, she’ll have forgotten all about you and so will the rest of the world.”

            Bryson stood at the top of the steps stone fisted and hot with rage. He could do nothing at the moment but glare at the guard and pray. He closed his eyes and counted his breaths as he had been instructed as a boy. Bryson got to thirteen and noticed he didn’t hear the blood rushing in his ears anymore. Visions of Lily playing with Luke in a nearby field and hearing her voice singing in his head had most likely helped more than the counting had. He raised his hands and lowered his head in a submissive gesture backing down the steps slowly. The guards lowered their weapons with a smug expression of victory painted over each of their faces. He silently cursed them with all the blights and afflictions he could think of as he stopped on the bottom step, turning away from his much needed destination and the targets of his wrath.

            What would he tell Luke? It would be tomorrow before he could even find anything out to tell him. Bryson ran a hand through his hair again deep in thought and full to the brim with worry. Luke shouldn’t have to worry like this.

The Hunt

“Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few are to be chewed and digested.”

 - Francis Bacon

The Hunt

“……and as usual, they lived happily ever after”

            Bryson closed the book and sat it on the table beside his son Luke’s bed as he stood, turning to pull the covers up a little farther. He smiled as the boy rolled over to his side being asleep for last three or four pages but he kept reading anyways. They both felt the absence of Lily each time she had to leave just as if it were the first time. The king called her away on almost every hunt now that he had heard her voice. It was, no doubt, a beautiful voice but Bryson hated that she had to leave just so the king could have another voice to read or sing to him. He blew out the stub of a candle he had left in Luke’s window sill before walking out of the boy’s room as quietly as he could. The age of seven was no time to be going without a mother for any time, even if it was only for a week.

            Alone and quiet once again as Bryson sat at the dinner table filling up a glass of wine to watch the rain come down through the window over looking Skully’s Fallthrough. Named for the drunkards and street walkers that frequented the small ally way, seeking shelter from the weather or a cheap room for the night, saying nothing of the conditions of the rooms, Skully’s wreaked of sweat, ale and any other foul aroma you could think of. Word had been said it was to be one of the nastiest holes in all of Valencia. Living above the blacksmith shop was quit handy in the winter time but in the summer the heat radiating from the days hard work stuck tight in their small two room loft. At least it was slightly above the wall lending a small breeze blowing the foulness inward towards the tanners and dyers, which was a different type of disgusting aroma to say the least. Gill Forstar, his boss and the shop owner, had moved into the back of the shop since his wife had passed from Red Pox earlier that season. His family had luckily survived unscathed but others weren’t so lucky.  As he drank he closed his eyes and tilted his head back slightly, remembering the voice of his sweet wife as she had sat rocking Luke to sleep as a babe. Her soft hum seemed to fill the entire world and once it had started nothing could pry his eyes from her. She still had that effect on him, although she sang less now since she had started working as a maid in the castle kitchen.

            Bryson tipped the glass back kissing his fingers and holding them out into the cold night air as he did every night she had gone. The king had started taking her and a few other servants from the castle on his week long hunts to ply food and put up tents, carry game and the sort of work men of his blue blooded lineage shouldn’t bother with, like it would hurt them anyhow. He pulled the shirt off his back and unhooked the belt he had been wearing all day as he swung and beat the hammer of his trade. Swords, axes and spear tips were his goal today and many more to come. The castle had sent in a giant order of new weapons for the castle guard just before the king had left for his hunt. That was just before Lily had left as well. He sat on the bed pulling off one then the other boot as he himself began to hum one of her favorite tunes. She had been gone for 2 days now and only 5 more to go. He lay back on the bed, pushing open the window that faced out over the wall and towards the flat lands the finished off the base of Forefather Mountain. Trees gathered in clumps to the west and far to the south the Borderlands began. At the edge of Borderlands trees rose up from seemingly nowhere into a thick dense wall, where people seldom if ever entered. Those who had entered that forbidding black wall of growth were never heard from again all together. Bryson had gone close to the border once as a young man, only to return with his tail tucked between his legs, with good reason however. He only needed to see the figure standing in the shadow of the tree line to know he was nowhere near heroic or daring enough to step another foot south and called a hasty retreat to his courage. He had been alone then too.  

His rolled to his side as the sun threw its first rays through Bryson window. He’d had the dream again. Lily had walked into his dream through the black curtains of night covered from her neck to her feet in a red satin gown. Her long black hair was shining in the moon light and her pale skin stood out as if she were a flame in a pitch black room.

            “How was your day my love?” She asked him. As if she had never had another question in her mind. As if, she had been standing in the doorway waiting for him to climb the steps from a day at the shop.

            “Horrible without you darling, but it’s getting better every minute” He smiled as he topped the steps leaning in to kiss her cheek as he placed a hand on the small of her back. She smelled of lilac and the house smelled of freshly baked bread. Bryson ran his hand through her silky black hair watching it sparkle in the moonlight and smiled.

            He sat up, running a hand through his shortly cropped hair. The mornings without her were just as bad as the nights. He stood pulling back on his trousers and dropped back to the bed with a thud letting out a large groan as he leaned forward to pull his boots back on.

            “Three days down, and four to go.”

Bryson checked in Luke’s room on his way out the door. Empty. That was a good sign. He had been trying to find a way for his son to stay out of the streets since the other children had started pushing him around. He had gotten his black hair and fair complexion from his mother. Sadly, he had gotten his hot temper and willingness to solve his problems my force from his father. He was frequently teased and laughed at by the older children for being smaller, although they seldom came close enough to lay hands on him. They all knew what a temper he had and how quick he was to fight back. His name was well known throughout the children in the streets from the number of other bullies that had tried and failed at wrestling him to the ground but ended up in the healer’s hands instead of their parents. His father taught him to protect himself after two bullies had handled him resulting in a broken arm and a whipping that left more than just scars on his back. Since then he had shied away from most other kids and lashed out at the ones that didn’t take the hint. Lily frowned on the idea of Luke fighting and was furious when she found out Bryson had showed him a thing or two from when he was a kid. Bryson would always try to hide the result of a fight or cover up anything that had to do with his son being confrontational as long as Luke had been in the right to begin with.

                                      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            The king’s bellow of a laugh could be heard all over the forest as the entertainment came close to an end on the third night of the hunt. The children had been doing acrobatics, dancing, rope climbing and, the kings’ favorite, magic tricks and illusions for nearly three hours now. They had nearly exhausted their list of skills and other things they had prepared for the week long hunt and nightly feast while the camp had been set up. There were adult dancers and fire breathers but the king loved children and always picked them to entertain first as he knew they usually tired of showing off and turned in early. As the children ran off into their make shift tents and cots to whisper and converse about who had made the most coins the men left sitting up who were sober enough to notice began seeing the women sneaking through the small crowd smiling and winking as the dancers they were known to be began to weave their magic.

            One in particular, by the name of Hercine, was doing her best to attract the attention of the king. Once a whore turned dancing minstrel for the king for her beautiful body and her soft appearance, had slowly began working her own magic to gain favor with him for her own personal gain. She had planned to work her way close to him and somehow have him take her to bed to conceive an heir to the throne. She had even sent word to Freyzia, Witch Queen of the Borderlands, to help her in her attempt at gaining power for a small price. Freyzia had accepted the offer and sent back to her an elven amulet to help the aspiring future queen to conceive a child but only that. Worn during the act of passion and the deed would be done.

            Wearing little else other than the amulet and thin sheer fabric barley covering what the mind could make up she weaved and crawled her way towards the king as he sat talking about the children and how wonderful they were at their games. She hated those kids. They had ruined her attempts the two previous nights and she wasn’t about to let it happen again. She slithered up to the fat round man sliding her way between his legs as he was just taking another drink from his glass. Perfect. The man stunk of wine and sweat. His hands were filthy with grease and other tidbits of meat he had just finished eating but she wouldn’t let that stop her. She was finally in the position to set her game in motion. Now if only she could bait the hook. He wriggled and wound her way around his neck whispering the entire time the words she had practiced over and over for this night. They would work she knew they would. She’d tried them out on other just to make sure. There was no resisting the promises she was making and knew this man would follow her anywhere now that she had began spilling her venomous voice in his ear. He nodded as she turned sitting up on his lap as if she were asking a father for a toy. Maybe in a way, that’s exactly what she was doing.

            Standing, he bid them all a good night and retired with his prize for the night to his luxurious tent of rugs and furs and a kingly cot built specially for his round and rather large build. The night was smotheringly hot and inside the tent it was much worse. The morning after she was more than willing to step out and get some much needed fresh air. The king stepped out behind her and, as she expected a kiss of a grab of the rear, instead he simply stepped around her and continued on to the guards and horses that were awaiting him for the hunt.

            To her dismay, the king had no more feelings for her before as he did after and quickly sent her out the forth night of the hunt asking for Lily instead to read his some stories from the books she had brought. He loved her voice, as did everyone in the camp, other than Hircine. They all spoke of her singing and of her voice with admiration, saying that it bordered on angelic and that no other in the kingdom could compare.

            Afterwards, when the stories were told and the books had all closed he begged her for another. As a child would do his parents. Holding up her hands with the only three brooks she had bought with her and gave a sad smile.

            “I’m all out of books and stories your highness.”

Blushing as always, she bowed and thanked him for calling on her and his company. As she backed away slowly with well practiced steps, as to not offend him, she paused. There were whispers coming from behind the tent a silhouette of two figures standing behind the king. Not at all out of the ordinary were the figures, on the contrary, it was quit common to hear all sorts of noises big and small, from laughing to horses. But the figures struck her as odd being fully geared and armed in the twilight hour of night.

            “My King, may I take my leave?” Never taking her eyes off the dark figures displayed on the tent wall behind him.

            The king took notice of her gaze and expression but knew nothing of the foreboding feeling she was having and only smiled.

            “Why of course Lily. Although, meeting someone this late and in this area could cause a bit of gossip. Especially, for a happily married woman, such as yourself.”

            The exaggeration in his voice was always apparent. He often said such things to act as bait to draw her into another conversation where he could spend more time with her. Left hanging in the air or on the tip of his tongue such as a trapper would leave bait for his prize. Hoping to snare the game he so desperately wanted.

            “Oh your highness, never will be the day that my beloved Bryson will be old news in my mind. He will forever be my……..”

            The sound of fabric ripping and an impact wet with blood stilled her tongue as she watched the king’s eyes grow wide with surprise. Or was it fear? Suddenly the sound in the camp died away and just as quickly the sound of swords and shields clashing together could be heard over everything else as the king crouched forward onto a knee holding himself up with a shaky hand.

            An arrow to the back was the almost soundless attack that had felled the mighty king. His breathing had already grown labored and sounded as if it had possibly struck a lung. He stretched the right hand out towards her as she took his head in her lap sitting quickly to hold him as fear racked her body. Men were running to and fro all around the tent with buckets of water. The smell of smoke and the screams in the night were quickly overpowering her senses. She tried to with no avail to stop her shaking and to calm herself so she could help the dying kind that lay wide eyed in her arms.

            What was she to do? She had never been trained as a healer nor did she wish to be. This was no scrap on the knee or bruise on the head. She wasn’t even sure where the two healers’ tents were set up in the camp. Valiona and Felix. That was their names. Felix was more of an herbalist that a healer but he had helped when on of the men had twisted an ankle or had trouble digesting this food or that. She laid the kings head gently onto a pillow from his cot and bolted from the tent towards a section of the camp where she had seen a bandaged up guard sitting outside a tent the day before.

            She pulled up sharply throwing her arm over her eyes as she saw the same man laying face down beside another of the guards and a slim man dressed in all black. All were laying a pool of blood, one with his throat cut and the other two from large gashes to the stomach and head. Inside wasn’t any better. Valiona lay dead, draped over a wooden chest like a discarded fabric with two knives sticking out of her back. The other guards that were inside the tent also had their throats cut but the murder must have gone for more blood. Lily looked around sobbing. She had never seen so much blood. As she closed her eyes trying not to see the bodies anymore the vision burned itself into her brain. She opened them turning to leave the tent and return to the fallen king but as she turned he caught a movement behind a large stack of boxes to the rear of the tent.

            Felix’s head popped out of the side from behind them looking around like a scared little child. Without hesitation Lily took two steps back and grabbed his hand pulling him along behind her as fast as she could manage.

            “The king’s been hit! He’s dying, you’ve got to help him!”

Felix pulled back, trying to release himself from the woman’s’ grasp but it did him no good. Lily’s grip was that of terror and it wasn’t letting go of the kings’ only hope.

            “I’m no healer. I’m just an herbalist. I know nothing of war wounds. You must let me go!”

            Felix stumbled on behind Lily trying to think of everything he had learned by watching Valiona but nothing was coming to mind. He mind was in a panic. The only thing keeping him alive was ducking and dodging behind Lily from arrows, bodies, and flying debris. They made their way through the camp barely avoiding two large, angry looking men in black clothing before turning on final time towards the kings’ tent. As they rounded that last turn, however, Lily sprang headlong in a group of black clad assassins that had already finished off the king before there was any chance of saving him. She tried to take a step back instinctively but Felix blocked her way as he ran into her as well.

            The men were nasty and were less groomed than a stray dog in winter time. The closest one was a giant of a man armed to the teeth with daggers, a sword, crossbow and a smile of victory revealing yellowing teeth from tobacco, poor hygiene and who knows what else.

            Without a second thought the man rounded on her driving an elbow square into her lower jaw sending her flailing in the blood and muddy water at their feet. Another man, his hair resembled a brown bushing shooting straight out in all direction, made a large clean swipe at Felix, splitting from shoulder to hip in that one single blow. Felix dropped like a stone on top of Lily as she struggled to stay conscious, pinning her to the ground.

            Her vision began to blur and it seemed as if she were looking at the world through a dark tunnel. Her ears were ringing and her head felt like it was spinning over and over in a barrel of water, which stifled almost all noise from the outside world. She thought she was going to be sick. She heard the faint sound of a female voice, familiar and not at all friendly.

            “Lay her in there with the king. Give her the poison and let her rot away watching his blood cover the floor. Imagine. Wanting a trashy tramp like that over me. Well, he can have her in death for all I care. Lady take you, filthy whore”

            She sent a boot to the back of Lily’s head and the pain pulled a low moan from her lungs. There wasn’t much else she could do with her jaw unhinged and oddly hanging to the left the way it was.

            “My lady, that was not the orders handed down to me from Lady Freyzia. Her orders were to take the king to her as proof. She will not be pleased that we’ve disobeyed direct orders.”

            “Take his crown and signet ring then you stupid fool. Do as I say or you won’t make it back to Freyzia at all”

Panic began to fill her lungs and her mind raced trying to find a way out of death’s grasp. She was going to die out here. As the world began to fold in around her and blackness began to take over she dug her nails as deep as she could into the forest floor. Dirt and blood were all she could feel instead of the touch of warm skin and a loving family. This was not a suitable trade.

Permafrost

In an epic beginning to the Permafrost three part series, Bryson Adams goes from being a 

blacksmith in a filthy corner of Valencia, to a desperate husband in search of a cure for his bed 

ridden and quickly fading wife, Lily.

His adventures will take him farther off the well-beaten path of his everyday life and forward

into the forests and flat lands of Pretoria. Encountering everything from elves and fairies to 

unknown creatures and mysteries even your nightmares would fear. Will he find the cure in 

time? Is it strong enough to drive away the sickness? One desperate question to another as we 

follow Bryson in this fabulous world of mystery and magic.

Beginning of New Beginnings

Hello. I'm Wes and this is my small slice of the void we all wish we could disappear into. No kids screaming in here, and no work at 6am. No bed times to alarm clocks and defiantly no taxes. Troubles are only a click away so that X up in the other corner we'll just forget it's up there for a a little while and read a few lines. Enjoy and leave comments as freely as u want. I'll try to post on a regular basis but once that X is clicked the real world comes back and as we all know, the real world has limitations.