Lutran struggled through the sucking mud of the swamp. The bitterflies swarmed around him, their buzz filling his ears and disorientating him. How much further did he have to go? The wet, decaying stench was as thick as fog, making him want to gag on every third step.
Old Coulan, the head woman, had been clear with her instructions, he just had to keep the twin peaks in view and aim at the gap between them. It had sounded so simple when she said it, but actually keeping a straight path when there was no path through the swamp was a lot harder than he had expected.
He had felt so honoured to be chosen for this role. They were in trouble and only the witch could help them. The Ravagers would be returning any day now and the town could not fight them off alone.
Lutran would have happily stayed to fight, trusting to his strength as a weapon for the town. Coulan had been very firm in her choice, however. She said that he possessed the strength to make the journey in time. The townsfolk would fight as hard as they could, but without any magic of their own they could not hope to best the Ravagers and their battle sorcery.
Pulling a sodden foot out of the mire and taking another step, Lutran forced himself onward. Time was everything, he had the strength, he could do this.
He couldn’t do this.
How long had he been walking now? The mist around him blurred the sunlight, keeping the area in a permanent dusk. The twin peaks were just about visible, blurred but visible. He thought he was still on course but he had no way to check outside of those two landmarks.
His strength, that he had always thought limitless, was reaching its limits. Every step now felt as though he had tied a bag of grain to his foot. His muscles ached and complained. Pausing to sip from his diminishing supply of water, Lutran felt himself start to sink.
Wearily lifting his leg, he felt his boot start to loosen. A jolt of panic flowed through him, the idea of having to go barefoot here was a disgusting image. The black mud squirming between his toes, the small creatures that moved beneath the surface biting and attaching themselves to his bare flesh. It was something he would not be able to bear.
Arresting the motion of his leg, he reached down to grip the top of his boot to hold it on as he carefully lifted it clear of the greedy mud. His other foot came free without attempting to abandon his boot. Lutran walked on, wishing for a piece of solid land, just a small space where he could rest for a moment.
Now the fear started to creep around the edges of his mind.
Fear that he was lost.
Fear that he had already passed the witch and never known it.
Fear of losing his boots.
Fear of the unseen, unheard things that surrounded him that may or may not exist outside of his mind.
Lutran was tired, cold and afraid. But he would not stop.
Until he fell and could not rise, he would not give up on his town. They had trusted him when they sent him out to do this. They were relying on him.
He would not let them down.
Lutran fell to his knees on the hard grassy ground “I’ve let you all down!’
He sobbed, deep wracking breaths that hurt his chest nearly as much as the knowledge of his failure did.
His legs had been so tired, his feet so numb from the constant cold that surrounded them, that he hadn’t noticed when he first left the swamp. His eyes, previously so fixed on the twin peaks had dropped to focus on the ground before him. Even then, he had become unseeing, simply walking because that was what he did.
Now he found himself standing in a field of grass. In the distance he could see the mocking twin peaks, still positioned for him as Coulan had said.
Tears of grief filled his eyes. He had failed, the town was doomed.
If the Ravagers kept to their threat, and when did they not, he would be the only survivor of his town.
Was that why Coulan had sent him? If so, why send him alone? He could have taken the children with him. Carried them through the swamp.
He thought about his journey, no he couldn’t have. If he had taken even one of the children with him, neither of them would have made it across. His strength was all but gone just getting himself through.
Lutran cried, he wailed. His fear and grief was the hot knife that sliced through his heart and soul.
The end of his town, his family, his friends.
Agony and loneliness was all that awaited him.
Grief would be his only constant now.
“You look like you’ve had a hard time of it.”
Lutran looked up, a young woman in a simple woollen dress that was dyed an impossible purple was standing in front of him.
“You crying over something specific or is this a more generalised grief?”
“”My town.” Lutran managed to croak out, his throat raw from crying. He tried to say more but his grief overwhelmed him and he started sobbing again. Not caring that he was showing such emotion in front of a stranger. A woman. A woman his age. A pretty woman his age.
Suddenly, he found he did care a little about that.
“What’s the matter with your town?” The woman asked.
“Ravagers are coming. They are coming and I have failed.”
The woman tilted her head to the side, quizzically “What have you failed to do? It looks like you made it through the swamp. I don’t know why you would choose to go through the swamp though.”
Lutran sucked in a calming breath, it didn’t help much. “I wasn’t supposed to go through the swamp, I was supposed to find someone in the swamp.”
“In the swamp? Who would be in the swamp?” She clapped her hands “Oh, wait. Don’t tell me, you’ve hired a number of Xota Knights and they were creeping through to be a surprise reinforcement. You’d only need about seven of them to see off a Ravager band.”
Xota Knights? Where were they supposed to have found Xota Knights that weren’t bound to their own Lords or being hunted by their former Lord. You didn’t just find a single Xota Knight you could ask for help, let alone seven.
“No. I was to seek out the witch of the swamp. Old Coulan said that she would come to our aid if I asked.”
“Why would I live in a swamp? Who’s Old Coulan?” The woman asked.
“Old Coulan is the town head woman. I don’t know why the witch would live in a swamp, I was just told to go through the swamp and I would find her in it.”
The woman frowned “That swamp is dark, damp, full of bugs and critters. There’s no fresh water and no space to grow vegetables or raise animals. There’s no way for a person to actually survive in there for longer than a few days, when their supplies would run out. Why would anyone think someone lived in there? It’s ridiculous.”
Lutran was taken aback by the annoyance in her voice.
“Well? Why on Feldin would you think that?”
“Because she’s a witch?” Lutran ventured, cautiously. “She is magic and doesn’t need what normal people need?”
“By that do you mean she doesn’t need fresh water and food?”
Lutran scratched his head and realised he was still on his knees. He stood up, finding himself nearly a foot taller than the woman, he looked down into her eyes, which were also a strange purple colour. Something tickled the back of his mind. He ignored it for the moment.
“Honestly, I did not even consider it. I was told that I would find her in the swamp. I thought she would have created a home there. Made a patch of fertile land grown from the mire with her magic and built a home upon it. That is what I truly expected to find.”
“Do you know much about magic?”
Lutran shook his head “I’m a blacksmith’s apprentice. I know about the soul of metal, but nothing about magic.”
The woman smiled “Soul of metal? I’ve not heard that phrase in quite some time. Is your master Herden?”
Lutran was surprised she knew that name “No, my master is Dip Saishar. Herden was his master’s master.”
The woman blinked “Has it been that long? Goodness. Fresh air really does make the time fly.”
That tickling at the back of his mind had become an insistent knocking. Telling Lutran he had missed something.
“Come back to my farm. Have something to eat, have a drink. I’ll clean those.” She gestured at his clothes, which he know realised ere covered in mud splashes and dead bitterflies. “Then you can talk to me about what you want done, what help you have come to ask for.”
Weariness filled his bones to the marrow. Food, drink and a wash sounded good.
“Thank you. I am Lutran, may I have your name?”
“I will tell it to you, but you cannot have it. I doubt it would suit you as well as Lutran.” She said with a smile.
Lutran gave her a look of confusion.
“My name is Deliamortay. Please, just call me Del.”
“I am pleased to meet you, Del”
She nodded “And I you, Lutran. Follow me. I live only a short walk away.”
Lutran followed her and that that itching, knocking in his mind started shouting. Finally it came to him.
“What do you mean why would you live in the swamp?”
Washed, fed and with a cool glass of elderberry juice in his hand, Lutran felt refreshed. He sat at Del’s kitchen table and waited for her to come back in.
Del was the witch.
At first it had seemed so unlikely. Lutran had been expecting an old woman, hunched over with wrinkles everywhere. The witch was supposed to be hundreds of years old. He had not expected a young woman with a near constant smile to be the witch. Had never considered that she might look like one of the girls he would see out and about in town.
She looked barely a few years older than him and yet, she was the witch.
Seeing her farm, with its chickens, cows, crops and vegetables, he now realised how ridiculous the idea that she would choose to live in a swamp was. Coulan had never met her, none of the town leaders had seen her for years. All of their knowledge came from half heard stories, scraps of written records, mixed in with “common knowledge” and fables children were told. He had been sent out in hope, not expectation. He realised that now. They had trusted that his strength would last him through the days and weeks it might take to find her. Lutran suspected that the elders had not really thought he would find the witch but instead hoped that he would find help from somewhere.
A mixture of frustration and possible hope ran together and near curdled in his thoughts.
Del entered the kitchen, carrying a loaf of bread and a block of cheese on a wooden serving board.
“Would you like some of this?”
Lutran still felt a touch of hunger and accepted a slice of bread and a hunk of cheese. When Del turned him down, who knew where he would next find food.
“So, tell me what your town wants of me.” Del asked, daintily nibbling at the cheese.
“Help.” Lutran said, frustrated at the lack of direction he had been given. He had been told to ask for help, assuming she would know what was wanted. He now saw just how vague and unsure the elders had been.
“Yes, I gathered that. You didn’t come out all this way just to say hello. Although that would have been nice. What do you want me to do? What do you think I can do?”
Lutran threw up his hands in exasperation “I’m not sure. They told me to come to you and ask for help. They didn’t say what kind of help. I was stupid and didn’t ask for details. If I’m honest with you, I don’t think they even knew.” He gulped down the bread, still warm. “I’m starting to think that they weren’t even sure you were real.”
“So, let’s start with what the problem is and I will see if I have a solution.” Her smile never went away, she looked constantly amused. Lutran didn’t know if that was good or bad.
“There’s a Ravager band, led by the Mad Monk. They claim all the food in a town for their own use. They started coming three years ago. We outnumber them, but we have no war magic or fighting force. Since the death of the Queen, there’s no-one to go to for help. All the towns are on their own for defence.” He sipped the juice to wet his throat. “A week ago their representative came to town to announce their arrival at the end of the month. They like us to be ready and to have the food neatly packed for them to take away. This time, when he came he decided he wanted to take one of the women back with him. Her husband struck him and blinded him but the Ravager got away.”
“And that’s bad?”
“The Ravagers told us after their first visit when we tried to fight them off that if anyone attacked any of them when they came back, they would raze the town and kill everyone down to the smallest child. They are brutal and feral. All of my friends and family will die unless we get some help.”
Del nodded “I see. One of you refused to be cowed any more and now you must either all lay down and wait to die or you must fight back. You could all just leave.” She suggested.
Lutran shook his head “We can’t. Where would we go? What town has space to take us all? Even if we split up into multiple groups we would be easy targets for either the Mad Monk’s band or another group. There is nowhere the entire town could go. Some were talking about sending all the children under thirteen away, I don’t know if they did that. They were afraid that a group so young would never get to safety without terrible losses or being sold into slavery.”
“So, your town will fight?”
“We won’t just lay down and die. Perhaps we can save some of our people.”
“I will consider the situation. I want you to have a sleep while I confer with the spirits.” She smiled at him “I will help you. Ravagers are becoming an annoyance, it wouldn’t hurt to remind them that my territory should be left alone.”
Tears filled Lutran’s eyes and hope surged “Thank you. Thank you so much. What can we offer you for your help, I am told you may have anything, including rule over the town.”
Del raised her eyebrow “Really? So if I asked for the left hand of every first born child. I could have that?”
Lutran gulped, they had said she might ask for something terrible, but as long as the town survived, he should say yes.
“If that is what you wish, I will cut off my hand now as a down payment.”
Del stared at him, really serious for once “You will, won’t you? My goodness, you people really are desperate.” She let silence fill the room while she finished her cheese. “I will not ask for that. Honestly, I don’t know what I would do with hundreds of left hands anyway. Go to the bedroom and sleep. I will wake you when it is time to go.”
Lutran found himself standing and leaving the kitchen I thought even thinking about it. Had she made him go?
As he left, he heard her chuckling quietly “War magic? They still believe in that do they?”
Lutran awoke on top of the bed with Del standing next to him.
“Wake up. Its time we to going.”
Sitting up, Lutran asked Del “Have you decided how you will help us?”
She smiled, it was reassuring and frightening in equal measure. “Yes, I’ve had a word with the spirits. This is going to be fun.”
Lutran realised that she had changed. The simple wooden dress was gone. Now she wore a silk dress, still the same shade of purple.It clung to her in ways he tried to stop his eyes from focusing on. He was sure she noticed. Across the chest strange symbols were stitched in gold thread and a vargyr’s claw in blood red stitching ran down the left side to the floor. The right side was open from the hem to her thigh.
Lutran had never seen a dress like it. He was amazed.
“One should always look their best when meeting the people.” She laughed. She had definitely noticed him looking.
“By your story, they should be in your town tomorrow. I am told they are still on track to arrive in the mid afternoon. Which shows how sloppy they are. Something like this, they should arrive at noon or dusk. This Mad Monk has no sense of style.”
“Tomorrow?” Lutran’s heart sank, it had take him nearly a week to get here. “But we can’t get back that fast. Unless, are we going to ride on a broomstick?”
Del exploded into laughter.
“I guess not.” Lutran muttered under his breath.
“I’m not getting on that!”
Del was petting the giant, fire breathing bull and cooing into its ear.
“This is Flower. He’s very gentle.”
Flower snorted, two gouts of flame scorching the earth by Lutran’s feet.
“Yes, he seems very nice.” Lutran said, jumping back from the flames.
“Just climb on. he won’t hurt you, will you, you big old softy.” Del scratched the enormous beast’s head and it closed its eyes in pleasure.
Lutran tentatively stepped towards Flower, trying to keep his eyes on its giant horns, massive hoofs and the flickering flames coming from its mouth and nostrils all at the same time.
He got close enough to place a hand on the huge flank of the beast, expecting to be gored, kicked and roasted all at the same time. Flower did nothing.
Del gripped one horn and effortlessly swung herself onto Flower’s back. She reached down for Lutran. He was grateful that she didn’t want him to attempt to get up the same way. He clasped her hand and with a strength that shocked him, she swung him up behind her.
“Thanks.” She said.
Lutran was confused “I didn’t do anything.”
“I wasn’t talking to you. Right, put your arms around me and hold tight.”
Hesitating, Lutran felt his face blush red. It wasn’t as though he had never put his arms around a woman before, but there was something about Del and she had sat him awfully close. Almost intimately close.
Del laughed “Grab ahold, young man. Don’t be shy otherwise you will take an awful tumble when Flower moves.”
Tentatively, Lutran gripped her waist on either side.
Del sighed and pulled his arms around her until he was hugging her tightly. “Like this. Now don’t let go.”
Lutran was close enough to smell a scent she had put in her hair. He found himself trying to rearrange his sitting position without letting go or touching her.
Del giggled, a strangely youthful sound, making her seem even younger than she looked.
Trying to distract himself Lutran asked her about their route back “Will Flower be able to get through the swamp in time?”
“Why would we go through that nasty, smelly place? We are going to go around it. The same as you really should have, if you had known where I lived.”
Before Lutran could reply, Del nudged Flower forward and they shot off.
Faster than an arrow’s flight, they raced away from the farm. Looking down, Lutran could see Flower’s feet kicking up sparks as it ran across the grass.
The wind made his eyes water, so he shut them.
The ride was surprisingly smooth and Lutran felt himself relaxing into it before Del yelled something and he felt their speed increase once more.
Risking opening his eyes, Lutran saw the world lashing by in a blur. He quickly shut them again.
He could smell fire, could feel his thighs beginning to warm. Flower was not a bull that created fire, he was fire in the shape of a bull. He was a demon. He was terrifying.
“Isn’t this fun?” Del called out.
Lutran moaned.
“Faster!” She laughed and the heat increased as the wind died away.
Lutran opened one eye and shut it immediately. Nothing was clear. The world was streaks of colour. He fought to not throw up.
“Do not be sick on me.” Del warned, clearly feeling his struggle.
Not daring to speak, Lutran nodded.
To distract himself, Lutran fixed on something that had seemed strange. Del’s dress. She should not have been able to mount something this size, this wide, in a dress that tight. He puzzled and worried at the problem until he came to the conclusion of simply, magic.
By the time his thoughts had fixed on that answer, his stomach had settled and he dared to open an eye.
The world was still streaks of colour, but ahead of them was a dark blob, gaining size and definition with every second. It was the town. They were nearly there already.
He closed his eye and again and started whispering thanks.
“You are most welcome.” Del said.
Their arrival caused quite a stir. Hardly surprising, given that they arrived on a ten foot tall, fire breathing bull that was travelling faster than anything anyone had ever seen before.
Flower skidded to a halt just outside the town gates. The crowd of locals, armed with kitchen knives and whatever else they had been able to find as a weapon stared, in mute shock, as Del daintily slipped from Flower’s back.
Lutran crashed to the floor in a much less graceful way, ending up laying on his back, breathing heavily.
He saw Coulan step forward from the group and appraise Del. The older woman’s grey hair was tied back and her hard eyes did not seem to like what they saw. Then she spotted Lutran on the floor.
“Lutran, who is this you have brought us?”
“This is Deliamortay.” He called from his position on the floor. “She is the witch you sent me to find.”
The crowd gasped, but Coulan did not look impressed.
“This slip of a girl is the witch?”
Lutran gestured at Flower “Look what we arrived on. Why would you doubt it.”
“She seems a bit young.”
Del stepped forward, rising into the air as she did so “Not as young as I seem. You can call me Del.”
Coulan nodded “That’s more like it.”
They had arrived not long before dusk, Coulan invited the three of them back to her house for dinner. Flower was left out the front with a whole pig that he roasted and ate.
Inside, dinner was more civilised, with steak and eggs.
“So, you will help us?” Coulan asked after dinner had been tidied away.
“I will. Tonight I will walk around the town and decide where I shall act upon your enemies.”
“Is there anything you would like us to do?” Coulan asked.
“I want to know roughly how many in the Mad Monk’s band. Information is key. Secondly, I ant you to arm all of your adults, everyone must be ready to defend themselves. If the band split up and enter the town at different points, I cannot promise to catch al of them before they have a chance to hurt or kill your people. I should be able to deal with most of them, but most is not the same as all and the consequences for those I am not there for will be terrible if you do not fight.”
“We will fight them!” Lutran yelled.
Coulan glared at him, Del smiled. He felt that blush coming back.
“Our young blacksmith is correct, although he is perhaps a little overexcited from his ride.” Coulan said to Del.
“I ask that Lutran stays by my side tomorrow. He can watch my back. I think he has it in him to protect me in the moments where I might need it.”
“Agreed.”
Lutran felt shock, protecting Del? He had never expected such an honour.
“I will stand beside you, Del. I have two hammers at the workshop, one long, one short. With them, I hope to give you the time you need.”
“I believe that you will.” Del stood “Now, Lutran can show me around so that I can find a suitable place to deal with them.
Lutran stood as well, nodding at Coulan who gave him a thin smile in return. He hurried after Del, who had already left the house.
He heard Coulan call after them as they left “Wait, we have not yet asked your price.”
But Del was already moving and he doubted he could get her to go back.
“I will find out.” He called back from just outside the front door.
Lutran caught up with Del half a street away. She seemed to be simply strolling, but he saw that her eyes were always moving, looking into the streets that passed, flickering up to rooftops. She made it seem so effortless. He tried to copy her, but found his head swivelling in every direction.
“You don’t need to do that.” She told him.
“Two pairs of eyes will see more than one. If I knew what we were looking for.”
Del smiled at him “What makes you think I have only one pair of eyes?” She waggled her eyebrows at him. “What I need you to do is show me the way to the largest open spaces in the town.”
Lutran felt silly, of course she had more than one set of eyes to see through. Del had magic, she probably could see the whole town at once if she chose to. He recovered himself quickly and led her to the town square.
“You have markets here?” she asked.
“Yes, every sixth day. It’s quite the event. Even the shopkeepers will set up a stall. Everyone comes through on market days.”
Del started to nod, then sharply shifted her attention to the West side of the square. She watched for a moment and then nodded. “Thought so.” She said to herself.
Lutran strained his eyes but couldn’t make anything out.
“What do you see?”
“War magic.” Was all she said before laughing.
Del strode towards the wine shop on the West side, Lutran following close behind.
“Stay here.” She told him before floating up to the roof.
Watching her fly, Lutran muttered to himself “I’m not sure where else I would go.”
“I heard that.” Del called down after a moment.
Lutran shut his mouth and waited for her return, chastened.
Before long, Del floated back down. She showed him the thin piece of wire she had cut from the roof.
“What’s that?”
“This is what the Mad Monk and his men are calling war magic.” She told him.
Lutran backed away “Is it dangerous? Have they put dangerous magic into it?” He felt a very real fear of being blown up fill him.
Del laughed, thoroughly amused.
“I don’t see how war magic is funny.” He told her.
She cupped his cheek and Lutran felt the flushing heat of a blush suffuse it “Because war magic isn’t real, dear Lutran. This is a trick. A very old trick that I thought you people had long since learned to see through.”
“A trick?” Lutran was confused, how could it be a trick, everyone had seen what the war wizards had done to Melik’s house.
“Absolutely. What the Ravagers do, is the night before an attack, they send in their wizards, who are nothing of the sort. These wizards set up traps and tricks. Loosening stone, planting explosives. That sort of thing. Then when they attack, they have hidden men ready to set them off as they point. They don’t even need to do much, maybe make a single wall explode just by pointing at it, and you all think you are outmatched. You surrender quickly because, well, how can you fight against magic, you’re only people.”
Lutran was in shock, had they lived these last years in fear because of simple trickery? It was a devastating thought. How much had they given up for a lie.
“Don’t be too hard on yourselves.” Del said, kindly. “Its not just the magic you fear, is it? They look fearsome and carry large weapons. They are intimidating and they live to fight. You are only simple townsfolk wanting to live your lives.”
Lutran nodded. The destruction of Melik’s house had knocked out what fight was left in them, but the first attacks by the soldiers of the Mad Monk had also been terrifyingly brutal.
“Not to worry.” Del said, smiling with. Savage gee. “Soon I shall know where all of their magic is and we will dismantle it. Then tomorrow I will show them what true magic looks like.”
She took another look around the square “Is there anywhere bigger than this in town? Do you have a park or something?”
Lutran shook his head “This is the biggest space we have. There is a small park, but we could fit the whole town in here.”
“Excellent. Then this is what we shall do. Tonight, while I deal with their war magic, I want you all to fill this square with lots of small to medium objects. Stones, knives. Crates if you have them spare. I will need ammunition.”
“What about arrows?” He asked, thinking about Gory the fletcher and his speed of creation.
Del gave him a savage smile “Oh yes. Arrows would be superb. Now go, get your people working. I suspect you’ll need Coulan’s help to organise them. I will see you at the forge tomorrow morning. Have your hammers ready.”
“Do you know where my master’s forge is?”
“Unless you’ve moved it since Herden’s day, I do.”
Lutran shook his head, he had forgotten she knew Herden. “Its still in the same place. Would you like any food or drink prepared for your arrival?”
“A hot cup of tea would be lovely, thank you, Lutran.”
Del stepped away into the night and Lutran rushed back to Coulan’s, realising as he did so that payment had still not been discussed.
Lutran waited up in the kitchen of his master’s house. Master Saishar waited with him until after midnight before heading to bed.
Lutran had everything ready to make Del a mug of tea once she arrived, needing only to boil the water, but as time slipped away, he found himself nodding off.
He awoke with a start to the sound of a satisfied sigh. Looking up he saw Del sat opposite him, enjoying her hot cup of tea. He hadn’t heard the water boil.
Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he apologised “I’m sorry for not being awake to make that for you. I waited, but I guess I was tired.”
“Do not worry about it, dear Lutran.” Del said “You laid everything out ready, it took nothing for me to heat the water. You prepare a most delicious blend.”
The praise from Del was somehow more important to him, even for such a simple thing, than all the words of encouragement he had received from Master Saishar.
“Did your work go well?” He asked her.
“Oh yes. When the Mad Monk’s band comes tomorrow, they will certainly be surprised.” She sipped the tea. “Lovely. Now, where are your hammers?”
Lutran pointed to the kitchen counter, where his hammers lay.
Del looked at them, looked slightly away, nodded, then looked back and held out her left hand, her right still holding the mug of tea. The smaller hammer flew across he room and she caught it. Del gave it a couple of practice swings “A good weight, this will crack some skulls.”
She opened her hand and the hammer flew back to where it had come from before the longer hammer flew into her grasp.
“Now this is a killing hammer, used correctly. Can you use it like that?”
Lutran gulped, he had been avoiding the thought of someone dying a his hands. “I don’t know.” He answered, honestly.
“That is the best answer. It tells me you do not lust for battle, but also that you do not think you will shy away from it. You are a good man, Lutran.”
The hammer flew back to its resting place.
“Go to bed. I shall work upon your hammers, tomorrow they shall strike hard and true. If you throw them, they will return.”
She snapped her head to one side and stared “Yes, they will.” She declared.
Lutran looked at the cupboard she appeared to be telling off. He shrugged, witches, they weren’t like normal people.
Del returned her gaze to him “Go, rest. You will want to be ready when they come”
“Yes. Goodnight, Del.”
“Goodnight.”
By midday the whole town was in place, the children had been taken to the school where they were guarded by anyone who had any military experience. This included Coulan, which meant hat those who were left took their orders from a command system devised by Del.
The plan was quite simple, the townsfolk were to draw the Rangers into the town square and once their attention was on Del and Lutran, they were to flee into the side streets and form barricades to stop and loose Ravagers from escaping. Others would roam the streets looking for any solo Ravager.
Simple in theory, terrifyingly complex in execution.
The Ravagers attacked from five separate directions, screaming bloody war cries, carrying banners which were adorned with severed limbs and heads, some of them still dripping.
Lutran could hear the screams and wails of his friends echoing around the square. He desperately wanted to go to their aid, but he had sworn to watch Del’s back. He felt tears form and wiped his eyes to keep them clear.
“Hold to your belief in your friends. They know what to do.” Del told him.
“I can hear them dying, being hurt.”
Del cocked an ear to the sky “Yes, you can. But not as many as you might think. Not all of those cries of pain come from your townspeople. There’s a lot of Ravagers with wounds. Some have even been killed.”
“Really?”
“There’s no need to lie to you, Lutran. It seems that even though I told your people about the war magic, they didn’t really believe me. Right up until the war wizards started trying their magic.” Del grinned, savagely “When absolutely nothing happened, despite their screams and curses, your people suddenly found their courage. And their anger.”
Lutran found a tight smile stretched across his face “Good on them.”
The screams and shouts and clash of weapons grew closer.
“North west corner.” Del said, without looking.
Lutran looked and saw the first of the townspeople come through. They were attacking and drawing back, just as Del had told them. The Ravagers were screaming but his friends were screaming right back at them. He heard language he had not thought some of them capable of come flowing from their mouths like water down the river.
“South.”
Lutran looked where Del was facing, seeing a larger mass of humanity race into the empty square.
“Not long now.”
The townspeople were breaking away from the fight, scattering into alleys and streets.
“Behind us.” She warned.
Lutran turned to find a Ravager racing towards them, a wicked looking curved and serrated sword raised menacingly. His mouth suddenly dried up and he could feel his heart beating in his ears.
“Throw, Lutran. Throw now.” Del commanded.
Lutran hefted the smaller hammer, cocked his arm back and let it fly with all of his prodigious strength. The throw was true, the hammer shot across the space and buried the heavy head into the skull of the Ravager. The man stopped running, wobbled in place for a moment and then toppled over backwards.
The hammer wobbled in his face for a moment before pulling free and flying back into his hand.
Del give him a look of surprise “You did that yourself. You are full of surprises.”
Before Lutran could ask what she meant, Del pointed to his left and he saw two Ravagers racing towards them, axes in hand.
Not daring to take a moment to think, Lutran stepped forward to meet them, swinging both hammers at once. His arms moved faster and harder than he expected, the hammers feeling alive. The shorter crashed into the chest of one, the longer dashing the brains of the other into the square. Both fell and did not move.
A moment ago, Lutran had never killed, now three men lay dead at his hand.
He walked back to Del, keeping his eyes open for other threats breaching the line of townspeople.
“Take your positions!’ Del yelled, her voice filling the square.
The Ravagers paused, shocked at the sound. The townsfolk were ready and scattered into their positions.
As soon as the invaders realised their prey had fled, all of them turned to look at the two figures in the centre of the square.
One of them, wearing a brown robe and standing a foot taller than the next tallest stepped forward. He had a long, red beard and carried twin axes.
“The Mad Monk.” Whispered Lutran.
“Who are you to interrupt our justice, woman?” The Mad Monk demanded.
“My name is Deliamortay.” Del said sweetly. “This town has asked for my help and I have agreed to give it.”
“They have, have they?” Laughed the Monk.
“Yes, I just said so, didn’t I?” Del looked to Lutran and spoke loud enough for the Ravagers to hear “You didn’t tell me that they were this stupid.”
Lutran opened and closed his mouth, unable to think of a reply.
“We really must work on your witty repartee.” Del told him.
“You think us stupid?” Screamed the Mad Monk.
Del sighed, theatrically “Well, honestly, yes. Still using war magic to frighten people? That’s pathetic.”
An axe pointed at Del “You! You are the one who has cursed my wizards!”
Del was taken aback “Cursed them? Wait, don’t tell me you think they can actually do magic?”
Lutran kept scanning the crowd, looking for an attack and he saw a group of unarmoured men trying to make themselves as small as possible as they slipped backwards into the crowd.
“Come here, you wizards.” Del commanded.
The escaping men shot out of the crowd, flying towards the open space before landing in a heap. Lutran heard at least two bones snap on landing.
“Your Mad Monk does actually know how you work, doesn’t he?”
One of the men floated out of the pile of bodies, struggling and writhing. He screamed for her to let him go.
“Tell your Mad Monk exactly what it is you do.”
In desperation the man pointed to the wine shop and yelled “Baltara!”
Nothing happened.
He pointed and yelled again.
“I removed your explosive last night.” Del told him and snapped her fingers.
The ground under the war wizards exploded, killing them all except for the floating man.
“Oh,” Del faked surprise, “is that where I put them?”
Lutran wanted to laugh but he didn’t dare break the moment. The last wizard was screaming and pleading, the Mad Monk looked furious and scared.
Del pointed down and the last wizard smashed face first into the ground and went limp.
The Ravagers went silent, staring at Del. Lutran started to feel hope.
“A nice trick.” Bellowed the Mad Monk. “But are you fast enough to kill us all before we reach you?”
Hope faded.
“It was a good trick. I’d tell you how I did it, but you’ll be too dead to hear me.” Del replied, amiably.
She pointed to her right, where Lutran knew one of the stacks of arrows had been secreted by a pile of rubbish. He saw a cat sniffing around it, searching for scraps.
“Would you like to see another trick?” Del asked.
“Tricks will only get you so far.” The Mad Monk screamed.
Del flicked her hand and the cat shot across the square, yowling in surprise before landing on the Mad Monk’s face. Panicked, the animal started scratching wildly before leaping down and running away.
Lutran was shocked she hadn’t used the arrows. He looked at Del and saw, just for a moment, puzzlement on her face. She gestured again and this time arrows rose around the square, dozens of them, still less than the number of enemies that faced them.
“Let’s try that again.” Del yelled, before adding quietly “Properly, this time.”
She flicked her hand and the arrows shot towards the Ravagers, each one unerringly shooting into an eye. Dozens of he invaders dropped, dead.
The Mad Monk was screaming and trying to wipe the blood from his face when a roar filled the street behind him.
“Is that Flower?” Asked Lutran.
“Of course. What’s the point of having a giant, fire breathing bull if you don’t let it have some fun now and again.” Del replied.
Flower exploded through the rear ranks of the Ravagers, goring and burning as he did so.
What had been unease among the invaders became full panic as the monstrous bull smashed his way threw them.
Del started pointing and directing as stones and knives rose from their hiding places to strike and kill Ravager after Ravager.
The confused enemy started to swing wildly, taking down a number of their own as they did so.
The Mad Monk was untouched and he took advantage of the confusion to rush at Del.
Without thought, Lutran stepped in front of her, readying his hammers.
The Monk swung his axes and Lutran rolled under the blows.
Del noticed him and screamed “Lutran, no!”
But he could not disengage, the Mad Monk may well be mad, but he was a skilled fighter and Lutran found it took all of his concentration to stay out of the deadly arcs of the axes. Overhand chops turned into thrusts. Lutran twisted, but too slow and felt pain in his side. He made himself ignore it as he stepped in closer, reducing the axes utility. It took away the power of his long hammer as well, but he still had the short.
The snap of the Mad Monk’s knee as the small hammer made contact gave Lutran a savage joy. This man had terrorised them for so long. It was nice to pay him back.
Pain ripped into his left side as the Monk pulled on his axes, cutting a deep slash along Lutran’s ribs.
The Monk stepped back, to give himself a better swing of his axe.
Lutran pushed through the pain and used the space to his own advantage, bringing the long hammer up between the Monk’s legs in the strongest blow he could muster.
He felt two somethings squelch and pop.
The Mad Monk’s eyes bulged out of his head in pain and he gasped for air, his face turning a deadly shade of purple.
Lutran didn’t hesitate and delivered a final blow with the short hammer to his temple. The Mad Monk crumpled, boneless.
Behind him, a scream, Lutran didn’t really hear it. His vision was going grey.
Unbothered, he looked to see a Ravager running at him, sword poised to strike. Lutran smiled, he was going to die but the Mad Monk had died first. That was enough.
He closed his eyes in acceptance.
A wave of heat struck him.
He opened his eyes to see the Ravager aflame and being eaten by Flower. The giant bull looked at him, winked and charged off to do more damage.
“Don’t see that every day.” Lutran muttered and collapsed to the floor. He could feel his warm blood pooling under him.
Lutran thought his family and master could be proud of him for this day’s work. He just hoped that Del was not hurt.
The world faded away.
Lutran’s first thought was that the floor of the square was a lot softer than he expected. The second was that everything hurt. He groaned, rolled to get to his feet and promptly fell out of the bed.
“Ow.” He groaned, face down on the floor.
“That was dumber than charging a known killer by yourself.” Del laughed at him.
Lutran pushed himself up and crawled back into the bed. His bed, in his home.
“I didn’t die then.”
“Do you feel dead?”
“I think it would hurt less.”
Del nodded “It certainly would. You had us worried for a while there.”
“Be sure to thank Flower for me.”
“I will, but I’m not sure he is that invested in you yet.”
Yet?
Del was back wearing the simple woollen dress he had first seen her in.
“Where did you get that from? We didn’t bring anything from your home.”
She smiled “Witch, remember. I have mysterious ways. Mostly those ways involved going home for a change of clothes while you slept off your near death.”
“You left and came back?”
She nodded “There’s still the matter of my payment. I had to come back to collect.”
“Have you decided what you will ask for?” Lutran was curious as to what she would take. She really was worth paying anything she wanted.
“We can talk about that another time.” She pointed to a tray on the bedside table. “Eat that, rest up and I will see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
She waved him away “Your master’s wife made it. I’m just letting you know its there.”
Lutran looked in her purple eyes “No. Thank you.”
Del smiled “It has been a pleasure.”
Lutran took another two days to feel well enough to get out of bed and go downstairs. It was another three before he could stand without feeling lightheaded for more than a minute. A week after that, he was well enough to start doing light duties in the forge.
During this time Del popped in every day to check on him and tell him how things were in the town.
All of the Ravagers had died and she had made sure word got out that the town had killed them all, playing down her own involvement. When he asked what happened to all of the bodies she smiled and said that Flower was enjoying a feast such as he hadn’t seen for many years.
That made his stomach turn a little.
But no matter how long she stayed for, Del would not tell him her price.
Coulan and the council came to see him, giving him praise and thanks. Thy all seemed strangely sad in their congratulations. Lutran thought it must be because of his injuries and the thought of the others that had not survived. There had been fewer deaths of townsfolk than he had expected, but there were still enough to fill him with grief.
One day, while he was tidying the forge, Del came to see him.
“I’m leaving today.”
Lutran felt his heart drop, he had been expecting this, but it still hurt.
“Can I come to visit you? I promise to bring tea.”
“No, you may not visit.”
A sucking hole swallowed him. Del had become important to him over he last weeks. Not just for her help, but her humour and encouragement had pushed him to get up and moving. He had realised in the last week that she was the dearest friend he had. She clearly did not feel the same way. Witches truly were different.
“If that is what you wish.” He said, turning away, pretending to tidy up so that she could not see his tears.
Del laughed. It wasn’t a cruel laugh, it was pure and joyous.
“What is so funny?” He asked, still not turning around.
“You haven’t worked out what I’m taking in payment yet, have you?”
“You could have anything and you won’t tell me. How could I possibly guess?” He felt stupid. Everyone else probably know, that was why they had been sad. She had asked for something they would give, but didn’t want to lose. No wonder the visits to him had been so few. They were grateful he had brought her but blamed him for the price. Even Master Saishar had been avoiding his eyes.
“Dear Lutran. My adorable little lunkhead, I choose you.” Del sad.
Lutran spun around, shocked “You choose what now?”
“I choose you. As my apprentice. As my friend and companion. You may not come to visit me because you are coming with me, to live and learn with me.” Del came close and grasped his hands “I choose you.”
Her eyes, purple and soft, looked into him and he saw that she truly did feel for him too.
“Really?” He couldn’t keep the grin from his face.
Del rolled her eyes “I have already said,” she looked to her right, “didn’t I already say that?”
Lutran looked where she was looking, there was no one there.
“Who are you taking to?”
Del smiled “Here’s your first touch of magic, apprentice.”
She pressed the three middle fingers of her right hand to his forehead and muttered a word under her breath.
Mist flowed across his vision and when it cleared, Lutran saw that the forge was filled with people, a near transparent crowd.
“Who are they?” He asked, once his shock passed.
“These are my ghosts, bound to me in friendship and service. Do you remember when we first met and I said I had to talk to the spirits?”
“I do.”
She gestured to the crowd who were all grinning, like boys who had successfully played a prank. “Well, these are the spirits I talked to. I asked them if they would like to help.”
Del pointed to his short hammer and flicked her finger. A thin man in jerkin and trousers picked it up and carried it to her, placing it in her hand.
Lutran was shocked “It was all them? What about you flying?”
Del chuckled and a group of the ghosts picked her up and carried her about the forge before placing her back down.
She pointed to the man who had brought her the hammer “This is Flit. He’s the one that thought it would be funny to throw the cat.”
“It was.” Said Flit and Lutran jumped.
“They speak as well, why else would I talk to them?”
Lutran felt a small sense of disappointment “So, your magic is like that of the war wizards? It’s not really magic at all?”
He heard the crowd suck in a breath, shocked at his words and he wished he could take them back as soon as he said them.
Del laughed and opened her hand. A ball of fire burst into being, he could feel the heat of it. The crowd parted and Del threw the fire into the forge, igniting it immediately.
“I wouldn’t say it was all trickery.”
© Robert Spalding 2020
Ghost Stories by Robert Spalding 