he pushed open the door. The family screamed; the father fought. They died, and the fire burned all the hotter. When Darius stepped back out, his armor stained with blood, he threw down his sword and fell to his knees with a sob. Velixar’s hands were on his shoulders, his cold cheek pressed against Darius’s as his whole body shuddered with tears.
“We are what the world lacks,” Velixar whispered in his ear. “We are what the world needs. Banish your guilt. You are no longer one of them. You are better. You are a child in the eyes of Karak, and have been made anew.”
Darius heard the words, and with strength born of desperation he clung to them in his mind. All the while, he pushed away the images, the blood. As his heart burned, he thought of Jerico, and how the simple act of saving him had thrust him onto this path.
Damn you, Jerico, he thought as Velixar set fire to the cabin with a wave of his hand. Damn you to the Abyss.
“Are you hungry?” Velixar asked.
Darius thought it impossible, but his stomach groaned, and he weakly nodded.
“Very well. Pick up your sword, and we will find you a meal.”
Darius grabbed the hilt of his greatsword. Deep inside, in a part of him that felt very small, he hoped it would lack the fire of faith, that it would remain plain steel and nothing more. When he lifted it into the air, it burned strong as ever, and that small piece of him burned along with it, just a dead branch meeting its proper fate.
*
J erico spent the morning teaching the men how to hold a sword. It seemed like it should have been the most basic of things, but instead he learned how militaristic his childhood had been, where weaponry and training had been daily rituals.
“Higher, Jorel,” he said, readjusting the man’s grip. Beside him, Adam clutched the hilt with both hands, his meaty fists dwarfing the metal.
“Just one,” Jerico said, “we’ll look into getting you a bastard sword, perhaps, but for now, just use one.”
“Feels better using two,” Adam said.
“It’s too heavy using just one,” another man, Pat, agreed.
“They’re balanced for one,” Jerico said, trying very hard not to roll his eyes. “If it feels heavy, it means you need to strengthen your arm, and that won’t happen if you keep using two… Trent, what did I say about your feet?”
Thinking back, Jerico decided he had never given his instructors even a pittance of the respect they deserved. He’d hoped to have the men spar, but getting them to grip the weapon tight, but not too tight, with just one hand, and at the right angle from their bodies, felt like trying to teach a pack of dogs how to dance on two legs. Sure, they could do it, but it wasn’t coming natural.
“Seriously, Pat,” Jerico said, turning back. “Stop crossing your legs!”
“I got to piss,” Pat said, looking ashamed.
Jerico opened his mouth, then closed it, realizing he had no clue how to react. He wanted to ask why he hadn’t said so, why he’d waited, why he hadn’t just wandered off, taken care of business, and come back. Instead he gave him a dumb stare, then waved a hand.
“Hurry up,” he said, praying for the hundredth time for patience.
“When we get to spar?” Griff asked.
Jerico caught him giving Adam an evil look, and he knew then and there that when the twins sparred, both would end up needing stitches for days.
“You get to spar when I know neither of you will kill the other,” Jerico said, harsher than he meant.
“Hey Jer, like this?” another man asked, and Jerico rushed down the line to double-check. Everyone was shifting about, trying to make things perfect. The paladin kept seeing a hundred things wrong, and it felt like the past half hour had been nothing but fixing error after error after error…
“Goddamn piece of shit!” Pat screamed from further into the forest. Jerico spun, grabbing his mace. From the corner of his eye, he saw the men turning with him, several nearly cutting their neighbors or dropping their blade from the sudden, surprised reaction. He nearly felt like crying. Not much more than farmers, Kaide had told him before they started. No kidding.
Pat came rushing back to them, but instead of being under attack, he was running as fast as he could while trying to remove his shirt and pants.
“What’s going on?” Jerico asked, baffled.
Then the smell hit.
“Skunk!” Adam and Griff swore in unison.
“Damn, Pat, you go and piss on one?” asked Jorel.
Jerico pressed his nose shut with his fingers, his eyes watering at the smell. As Pat neared, the rest gave way, not wanting to get too close.
“What is going on out here?” Kaide asked, stepping out from his cabin. He frowned, sniffed, and then pulled his shirt up to his nose. “Damn it, Pat, a stream’s southwest of here. Get in it, and don’t come out until you see the moon.”
“Sorry,” Pat said, his eyes running, his face red. The rest of the men were laughing at him, and Jerico couldn’t help but chuckle, no matter how bad he felt for Pat.
“Can’t you do something about that?” Kaide asked, joining Jerico’s side.
“I can heal broken bones and torn flesh,” Jerico said, rubbing his nose. “But that evil is beyond me.”
They both laughed, and were still laughing when they heard the sound of hooves thundering across the ground. When they saw the pale look on the rider’s face, their laughter died.
“Him!” the man screamed, pointing at Jerico. “He did this!”
Jerico looked to Kaide, and he shrugged, not understanding.
“Calm down, Ned,” Kaide said, offering his hand to help the man dismount. Ned did so, still glaring at Jerico. When the paladin neared to listen, Kaide shot him a look, so he stepped back until he was out of earshot.
“Enough practice,” Jerico said, realizing the rest of the men were still lingering about. “Take a break, and put your weapons away. Carefully!”
As they scattered, muttering amongst themselves, Jerico watched Kaide’s face. Outwardly he showed little sign, but his eyes hardened, and his whole body turned rigid. At last he hugged the rider, then approached Jerico, who didn’t fail to notice the man’s hands balled into fists.
“What’s going-”
Kaide struck him in the mouth, then kicked the back of his sore knee. Jerico went down, screaming in pain. The bandit leader landed on top of him, an elbow crushing his throat.
“You bastard,” Kaide said, his voice quiet, cold. “You just couldn’t leave things be, could you? Always have to interfere.”
“I don’t understand,” Jerico said, his words cracking.
“You will. You’re coming with me to Stonahm. I’ll let you see what a fucking mess you’ve made.”
Word spread to the rest of the camp, but given how limited they were on horses, only one other could go with Kaide and Jerico, the short man, Barry.
“Is my family all right?” he asked Ned as they saddled up. “Tell me, is she all right?”
The rider refused to say, even when Barry grabbed him by the shoulders and screamed in his face.
“Look me in the eye!” he cried, shaking him. “Why won’t you look me in the damn eye?”
It’d taken two men to pull him off. Now he rode behind Jerico and Kaide, head down and refusing to say a word. The hours crawled, and when they stopped to let their horses rest, not a shred of conversation was spoken between the three. As they neared Stonahm, there was no denying the cloud of smoke in the sky, nor where it was rising from.
“She’s all right,” Ned said upon seeing the smoke. “I know it. She’s all right, and my boys, too.”
Kaide’s glare was cold enough to freeze the skin on Jerico’s neck.
Jerico felt some relief as they finally rode into the village. The smoke was only from a few homes, not all of them as he’d initially feared. People milled about, looking as if they’d just survived a battle. Seeing Kaide’s approach, they began to gather.
“Jess!” Barry screamed. “Where’s Jess!”
