Jack Linch awoke in the carriage he had been riding in since his escape. His head felt thick and slow. He opened his eyes lethargically to see the woman, his haughty, malignant savior, sitting across from him as usual. She was dressed in her customary black and she had something in her pale hand that she seemed to be admiring. He tried to raise his head for a closer look only to have a pounding headache stab into his forehead. He laid his head back against the wall and groaned.
"You ought to be more careful Master Linch. I drugged your rations the night before last and you've been out like a dead man ever since," murmured the woman.
Even in the state he was in Jack's temper was formidable. Red hot rage coursed through him like a living thing. He would make her suffer for this. Slowly he raised himself up, ignoring the pain and nausea. The woman who he knew only as Milady watched him coolly.
"Impressive," she said, then she held up what was in her hand. Jack felt a wave of despair pass over him. She had taken his ruby.
At that point his resolve eroded and his headache became too much. He collapsed back into his seat and closed his eyes. He began slowly rubbing his temples. He would kill her...another time, he thought petulantly.
"Now, Master Linch," she said with such smugness that it set his teeth on edge. "It is time for us to discuss the terms of your liberation."
Jack said nothing as he waited for the pain in his head to subside.
"My Lord has freed you and healed you," she continued. "Now he asks you to perform a small task and this stone, " she held it up, "will be yours and you will have regained all your powers."
"What task?" Jack managed to ask between his teeth.
"The woman that healed you. She was an informant. She gave us information regarding someone we have been searching for, for a very long time. I believe you know of him, his name is Abdiel."
Rage flared and twisted in Jack's chest at the name of his hated enemy, "what do you want with him?" he asked.
"We want you to lead a small team to kill him and bring something that he has back to us."
Jack smiled, " I'll kill him myself. I need no team." He hadn't listened to the other half of his task. He was being offered something he would never refuse so the rest didn't matter.
"You will take a team, they will be under your direction and I am sure you will find them most useful."
Nothing else mattered. "I'll do it, Milady," said Jack
She nodded and reached within her dark robe producing a small knife. It had a dark iron blade with strange markings.
"This is called a swearing knife," she said softly.
The man with the strange green eyes that sat next to Jack suddenly grabbed his arm and held it out to the woman in a vice-like grip.
"Swear to me that you will find and kill Abdiel. Swear to me that you will never betray me. Swear to me that you will fulfill this oath even at the cost of your own life," as she spoke the blade of the knife began to glow as though heated by an invisible flame. As it turned from red to orange to white she looked at him intensely. "Swear it!" she hissed.
Jack Linch looked from his forcibly out stretched arm to the knife. Its glowing light mesmerized him but also made him afraid. Reaching within he drowned his fear with his boiling hate and spoke with conviction, "I so swear!"
No sooner had he spoken than she plunged the knife into his arm. White lighting surged through him, throwing his whole body into convulsions. Burning pain filled his body and he screamed. She kept the knife in him watching his pain and convulsions with interest. Finally, she yanked it out.
All pain departed from him immediately and he lay limp in his seat. He touched his arm gingerly; even his headache was gone. Midway down his arm, a scar like a small sunburst was burned into his flesh like a brand. He touched it experimentally. There was no pain. When he looked up, the woman he had sworn to serve and whose name he did not know was holding out the ruby. He took it wordlessly already feeling the magic begin to stir. The carriage stopped.
"Your quarry is less than a day's ride down this road," said Milady gesturing, "you shall have one of my horses. Your team are all Rashakas," she glanced at the silent man next to Jack, "They will be with you, but you will only see them when they want you to."
As the carriage rolled away Jack Linch climbed onto the big gray horse he had been given. He tucked his precious ruby into his tunic then he allowed himself an exhilarating burst of fierce anticipation. Less than one day's ride. Red magic flickered in his eyes. He kicked the horse and rode off to take his revenge.
***
Cassandra woke up screaming. Ashur had been lying in his simple cot staring into the darkness. By the time he had entered the house his father was setting a simple meal of bread and salted pork on the table. When asked, he told his son that Cassandra was already asleep in bed. They had shared a silent meal and then gone to bed themselves. Ashur was still puzzling and fuming over his father's seemingly unwarranted and unjust anger. Thoughts spilled back and forth in his mind as he struggled to comprehend the reasoning of the man that slept but a few feet away.
Cassandra's screams brought them both bolt upright. Ashur scrambled off his cot and ran for the door. His father was quicker, the big man raced through the door and into his daughter's bedroom. When Ashur stepped into the room she was already waking up. She was drenched in sweat and tears. She looked, incredibly, even worse than she had when he had carried her home. Abdiel took her into his arms, she hugged him and she struggled to regain control of herself.
"Was it the dream you were going to tell me about?" whispered Abdiel after a moment. She nodded her head against his chest. He held her closer staring off into nothing as though reliving a memory. Then his eyes shifted to the leather-bound book resting on Cassandra's writing desk.
"Cassandra, is this dream written in your diary?" he asked.
She nodded again rubbing her nose and eyes. Ashur hadn't seen her this troubled by a dream since... actually now that he thought about it he had never seen her this distraught over a dream. Even when she would wake up screaming when she was little she would be over it within a moment or two and then she would go back to sleep. Abdiel tossed his head gesturing Ashur over to his side. Wordlessly he picked up Cass as one would a doll and handed her to Ashur. Then he reached onto the desk and picked up the diary. He flipped to the back and found the most recent entries.
He stood reading them by moonlight, his face passive. Cassandra clung to her brother saying nothing.
"Cass, I need to ask you some questions," said Abdiel gently as he closed the diary.
"Father, I don't think she's in any condition to-" began Ashur, in an annoyed voice.
"This is important!" said Abdiel with such force that Cassandra's face shot up to look at him with wide eyes. His face quickly went from stern to gentle and worried.
"Honey, these "shadow men" in your dream you wrote that they had strange eyes?" he asked.
She nodded.
"What was strange about them?" he said. "Did they glow?"
She nodded again.
"What color were they?" he asked.
She cleared her throat, " Six had green eyes, one, the one apart from the others, had eyes that turned red."
Abdiel's face was unreadable, he said, "red, are you absolutely sure?"
She nodded.
Abdiel closed his eyes and asked, "Did he have something in his hand?"
"He had something in his hand that glowed red too."
Abdiel turned and walked quickly out of the room. Ashur watched him go, confused. Why would he bring up something that obviously pained Cass to talk about? Why woul h be so concend about one of Cassandra's dreams? He never had been before.
"Ashur! In here now!" came the shouted command from the kitchen.
Ashur looked down at his miserable looking sister. She pulled away from him, silently telling him to follow his father's command. Sighing, he lifted himself up and walked into the other room. He froze at what he saw.
His father had turned the table on its side and laid it against the far wall. He had taken the heavy iron stove and dragged it to the where the table had been. The contents of both the bowls that were kept on the table and those that had been set on the stove were strewn across the floor. Abdiel was prying up the floor where the stove had once been with his boot knife. The scene was so completely unexpected and irrational that for a few moments Ashur just stood there with his mouth open. His father glanced up at him as he tore up the first floorboard.
"Son, I need you to saddle the horses and get them ready."
Ashur blinked, "Dad, what--?"
"Ashur, go get the horses ready right now!" shouted Abdiel. By now he had pried up three floorboards revealing a compartment that Ashur hadn't know existed. It was odd because he had helped build the house. It was beyond him how his father managed to build a secret compartment without his knowledge. His father was removing oilskin sacks from the hole in the foundation.
Ashur began collecting himself and trying to sort through what was rapidly becoming a very bizarre experience. He walked into the stables, saddled Champion and Dependable, and took them to the front of the house. After tying them to a post he walked back inside.
His father had organized the sacks and pouches hidden beneath the floor into two unequal piles. Seeing his son walk through the door, he rose to his feet. He was dressed. Ashur had no idea how the man had changed so quickly. He wore all black; leather belts crisscrossed his chest and waste. His black leather breeches and coat were lined with sheepskin. He had taken a black cloth and tied it off covering the top of his head. His blue eyes sizzled with a burning energy that made Ashur believe that they were all in terrible danger.
"Son, change into travel clothes. Quickly!" he said carrying the pouches and sacks out and stuffing them into the saddlebags of the two horses. Ashur walked into his room that he shared with his father and began to change. He chose his own sheepskin-lined coat and breeches assuming that his father, who was the only one who knew their destination, had chosen his wardrobe wisely. He dressed and when he had sheathed his daggers and boot knife he walked back out.
Cassandra was standing alone in the midst of the mess that had been the dining room and kitchen. She had changed and was wearing warm travel gear. She stood looking lost and afraid, her gray eyes staring at nothing Ashur could see. Her hair was wild and flung about in all directions.
She turned towards him with a haunted expression that seemed to cling to her reddened, tearstained, face. Just looking at her made him want to comfort her, but before he could make a move Abdiel was back inside holding two carefully wrapped packages.
He thrust one of the packages at his son who took it tentatively. Then he tore open the other to reveal a sheathed broadsword. It was of simple make and design. The scabbard and hilt of the sword were all as black as his father's clothing. Black dyed leather carefully treated and meticulously cared for. Ashur opened his own to reveal a sword identical to the one his father held. The sword was well made and the weight felt good as he hefted it and buckled it to his waist. His father fastened his own to his back. Then he stood straight and looked at his children and in a calm voice he began to speak,
"We are being hunted. Cassandra's dream is a true dream," he said, then paused, looking at his son. "Our only chance is to leave now." He walked over to the center of the floor and picked up one pouch that he had not taken out with the others,
"I have reason to believe that the green eyed men that she saw are creatures called Rashakas; They are a sort of demonic bloodhound. The powder in this pouch is the only thing that can mask our blood scent once they find it, which they will." He handed the pouch to Ashur,
"Our best chance is to split up I'll take the south road and you two will go north. I have other instructions for you packed in your gear. You two will take Champion; ride him fast. Do not stop for any reason until you reach the river docks. Count to sixty once you start riding then sprinkle this powder over yourselves and the horse. I'll meet up with you in the place I mentioned in the instructions."
Then he put his hand on each of their shoulders and drew them close his big arms wrapped around them, "watch out for each other. Keep each other safe." He whispered. Then he turned and was out the door.
Ashur grabbed his sister and ran out after him, a thousand questions burning through his mind. Demon Bloodhounds? Ride to the river docks? What was going on?
Abdiel was untying Dependable as they came out. He looked up at them and began to turn away, then he stopped. Turning back around he strode over to Cass and knelt down in front of her. Even kneeling he was enormous compared to the little girl. He held up his hand to Ashur gesturing him to back away. Ashur reluctantly complied, watching from a distance. His father whispered something in his daughter's ear and she closed her eyes. There was a flash of steel. Abdiel whipped out a small cloth to clean up the blood from a small cut he had sliced into Cass's finger. Ashur started forward, but this time Cass held up her other hand to stop him. Their father bound up the cut. Then he arose and in two strides and one seamless movement he was mounted and galloping away towards the south road.
Ashur tucked the pouch away and joined Cassandra who was already running over to Champion. Ashur picked her up and placed her on the back of the huge stallion, then he mounted behind her and began racing down the overgrown, unkempt road heading north. The horse must have sensed something behind them for Ashur had never seen him go so fast. He gripped the reins loosely allowing them to pick up speed.
Normally it would be reckless and irresponsible to ride a horse at this pace in the dead of night. Particularly on any road in or near Bordertown, but Ashur felt something too. He had a thousand questions about what was chasing them and why and how his father was involved but there was a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach that kept him from doubting his father's instructions. Something was after them and it was dangerous.
He counted to sixty slowly in his head. Then he pulled the reigns and stopped the horse. Pulling out the pouch that his father had given him he opened it. Inside was what looked like black sand, and a folded up piece of parchment. He sprinkled half the contents on himself, his sister, and the horse, pocketed the pouch once more and rode off into the night.