‘I have to return to Gilgarry tomorrow,’ he replied.
‘You enjoyed it that much, then?’
‘On the contrary. It’s a dreadful place, but there is something I must attend to.’
‘Very well, then. Why don’t you go see your young lady friend? That should cheer you up.’
‘I hope so,’ Samuel agreed.
He left shortly. Normally, he would have been grinning from ear to ear at the thought of seeing Leila, but today, a feeling of dread was hanging over him like an ill omen.
Fortunately, Leila’s father was not at home and so, with a giggle from Leila, they went outside for a walk together, darting between the homes and following the narrow, muddy paths between each wall.
‘How was your visit with the Count, Samuel?’ she asked as they strolled down toward the river.
‘He and his court are just a bunch of old drunkards,’ Samuel declared.
‘Of course,’ she affirmed, shaking her head at his ignorance. ‘All the nobles are. What else do they have to do, but count their money and drink themselves silly? Why do you think I don't want to marry any of them?’
Samuel smiled and kissed her on the cheek.
They went down to the river and lay on the grass under the warm sun. They began kissing, and, one thing leading to another, it was not long until they were naked in each other’s arms with the sun on their bare flesh.
It was barely an hour later, as they were still entwined in each other and Samuel was half asleep, when the sound of hoof-beats approaching from up near the road roused them both. The two of them began pulling their clothes on in a frenzy, with Leila giggling almost hysterically as Samuel became tangled in his own trousers, nearly sending himself rolling into the river. Two men began leading their animals down towards them and Samuel and Leila tried to look innocent, each sharing a smirk.
They stood and greeted the strangers.
‘Good day to you, gentlemen,’ Samuel greeted. ‘What brings you to this beautiful spot?’
‘Actually, we came looking for you,’ one man said, ‘if you be Samuel. The village folk said you might be found this way.’
He was a middle-aged and burly man, with a crooked nose and long white scar running from his eye down to his neck. His companion was younger and much scrawnier by comparison, with an Adam’s apple poking out from the front of his neck like a child’s fist.
‘Yes, I am,’ Samuel said, holding Leila’s hand. It irked him somewhat that their whereabouts seemed to be widely known.
‘I understand you may be able to help me with an awful ache in my joints. It’s been said that you have quite a way with such things.’
‘I’ll do what I can,’ Samuel said, hoping to see the pair off as quickly as possible.
He let go of Leila, who sat back down to watch the river crawl by while Samuel did his work. The scarred man stepped closer for Samuel’s inspection, while his scrawny companion took hold of their horses.
‘If you could take a look at my knee,’ he said, wincing and bending to roll up his trouser leg. ‘The rotten thing’s been awful sore for some time.’
Samuel nodded and bent over to look closer. Strangely, the joint seemed perfectly fine. His aura was clear and untarnished, and Samuel was just thinking ‘that’s strange’ to himself when a movement caught his eye. A dagger came up towards his belly and Samuel flung himself away, just barely escaping. A scream sounded from Leila and Samuel twirled around, off balance, to see if she was harmed. She had her palms by her half-open mouth. Her face was pale with fright, for she had turned just in time to see the attack.
The other scrawny man still held the horses and grinned with missing teeth. ‘Aha, Bardick!’ he called out. ‘He’s spryer than you, for sure! Catch him, quick!’’
Samuel had barely a spare instant to think as the scar-faced man continued with a flurry of jabbing and waving attacks, grunting with each effort.
‘Samuel!’ Leila yelled, clutching her hands to her chest.
‘Stay back!’ Samuel spat out. Thankfully, it seemed they were only interested in killing him and were not interested in her. Rolling aside, Samuel had enough time to gather himself. In the space of a heartbeat, instinct took over and he shot out a spell that held the man fast-as rigid as a statue.
The scrawny man gawked in disbelief as Samuel calmly dusted himself off before taking the dagger from the man called Bardick’s rigid hand.
‘What’re ya doin’, ya fool?’ the scrawny man yelled out, before Samuel spelled him as rigid as his companion.
It took only a moment to enter both their minds and begin sifting through their memories as easily as flipping through the pages of a book. Shortly, Samuel withdrew from both of them to find Leila sobbing at his side and calling his name.
‘Don’t worry,’ he told her calmly. ‘They can’t hurt us now.’
Leila gave a shriek as the scrawny man began moving, turned, and walked away, leading his horses back up the slope and towards the roadway.
‘Samuel,’ Leila cried at his side, clutching Samuel's arm. ‘Where is he going?’
‘Back to Gilgarry. These men are assassins, sent to kill me. I have put a spell on that man and now he will try to kill his master instead-a magician called Ash. I doubt he’ll succeed, but it will be a fitting end for whichever of them fails.’
‘What about this man?’ she asked, looking at the one called Bardick with alarm.
Samuel took Leila squarely by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. ‘Listen to me. Go home,’ her told her darkly and pulled her hands away as she tried to cling to him. ‘Please. Your father will be home soon. I will send word later. I need to be alone with this man for a time. I’m going to give him something he deserves and I would rather you did not see.’
She stepped back and nodded, sensing the venom in his dark mood, and gathered up her shoes. She hurried from the riverbank and up towards the road without turning back.
‘You have no choice, but to answer me,’ Samuel said to Bardick, pointing a finger to the man’s nose. ‘I want you to listen carefully to every word I say. Do you understand?’
Bardick nodded as well as he could-as much as Samuel’s spell would allow him. When inside another being’s mind, time can pass strangely, and a host of memories can be observed in only a moment. This man had committed foul deeds aplenty in his life, as Samuel had learned. Such vile acts filled his past that Samuel wondered how the man could live with himself, but Bardick had enjoyed every moment. There had been an image of Ash, talking to Bardick and to the other scrawny cut-throat-Olliander.
‘Some magician has turned up from the Order,’ Ash had said. ‘I want you two to go and find him and get rid of him. I don’t want any trouble. He looks harmless enough-just a young upstart, but you had better take care of him quickly, just to be sure. Stick his body in a ditch somewhere or do with it as you will-I don’t care about the details.’
At that, Olliander had turned to Bardick with a perverse smile, and Bardick’s mind had filled with gleeful expectation.
There had been all kinds of other thoughts and memories flashing around in Bardick’s twisted mind, but somehow Samuel’s attention had been drawn to one particular scene of grisly murder. It had become apparent that Bardick and Samuel had already met, many years before.
Bardick had changed over the years-older, uglier, meaner-but time had not been able to fix his crooked nose or erase the long, white scar from his face that had flashed in the moonlight on that night long ago.
Dark memories of his mother’s screams and his father’s blank, staring eyes came back to Samuel like a creeping ghoul. He could feel the bitter taste of hatred rising in his belly.
‘When I was a boy,’ Samuel said, choking back tears, ‘you helped kill my family. Do you remember that?’
