Black Cross Page 12

  How foolish I’ve been. I should have used a more secure location to discuss such a matter, and worse, I’ve put my friends in more danger by forcing Fal to divulge all to me here.

  Friends…

  That’s what Fal and Sav were. He could trust them, he was sure of it and he needed them to know the Samorlians were involved. The witchunter had escaped and would surely inform the Grand Inquisitor, who would have the authority to go to the Archbishop; an advisor to the King. And the result… well… the result didn’t bear thinking about.

  Just then, a commotion in the street caught Errolas’ attention. Moving swiftly to the window, he peered outside and saw Sav arguing with two city guardsmen. Opening the window slightly, the elf listened in.

  ‘Sorry Sav, but we’re busy,’ a large guardsman with a black moustache and a gruff voice said. ‘We’ll check out the place when we can, but we’ve more pressing matters on our ’ands, mate.’ The guardsman tried to move away from Sav after he'd spoken.

  Sav stepped in his way.

  ‘I know you’re busy, Dale, but I believe this break-in is of the utmost importance… and it’s above Fal’s place. You wanna explain to him why his gaff isn’t important?’

  Dale sighed and shrugged. ‘Sav, if it were up to me we’d check into it now, but a lot of guardsmen have been pulled down Dockside ʼcause of the increased ganger activity. The murders may have died down in other districts, but Dockside has erupted wi’ all kinds of shit. Gangs are openly fighting and people are panicking ʼcause of this sickness everywhere. There’re less of us in the other districts now so we need to check on things in order of priority, and the captain’s keeping a close watch, not to mention the bloody Constable of Wesson himself. So please, mate, move aside and let me on me way.’ Dale beckoned for his partner to follow and they set off down the street as Sav reluctantly stepped aside.

  ‘Thanks for nothing, Dale!’ Sav shouted, once the large soldier was out of earshot. He then walked across to Fal’s door which Errolas opened.

  Before Sav could explain, Errolas held up his hand to silence him. He told him he'd heard it all and it was no longer important to have them check the room above, but they needed to find Fal immediately, to inform him about the Samorlian Church’s involvement.

  Sav agreed, not at all surprised by the revelation. He then told Errolas they would have to go to Tyndurris to find Fal and risk facing Severun or Orix there. Errolas agreed it was worth the risk, so they both left the house immediately and headed as fast as they could towards the large tower in the distance.

  ***

  Fal had been stunned when he’d heard Orix’s words; a plague in Wesson. There hadn’t been one for centuries and never had Altoln suffered the bubonic plague. It had spread through Sirreta a couple of hundred years ago, Orix told Fal, but had luckily been quarantined by their King at the time and never spread beyond their borders. That was exactly what Wesson needed to do and as fast as possible. Orix had sent Fal to the guardroom below the ground floor and ordered them to create a bonfire in the courtyard. When questioning the orders, Fal told Starks – who'd returned for his next shift in the time it had taken for Orix to perform the autopsy – to remember not to go above his station and to just follow the orders given. The young crossbowman looked confused and a little hurt, but had nodded and rushed off, taking two other guards with him to create the fire.

  Fal then raced back to the fourth floor to find Orix standing over another body with two other clerics.

  ‘This one died from the same symptoms, Falchion,’ Orix said, as Fal entered the room. ‘I want all the bodies burnt. Word must be sent to the clerics and guards throughout Wesson that all recent cadavers and any from now on are to be burnt. Black crosses are to be put on the doors of buildings where people have died, as well as the homes of those people quarantined in the infirmaries. Then we must seek an audience with the King as soon as possible. But first, you and I must speak with Lord Severun.’ Orix stepped down from his podium, hurried over to a font of water and scrubbed his hands. He then walked over to Fal and beckoned for him to follow as he left the clerics’ chamber and stepped out into the hall.

  ‘Guard,’ Orix said, to the man stood on the archive vaults door.

  ‘Yes Master Orix?’ The guard was clearly surprised by the uncharacteristic tone of the small gnome.

  ‘Go into the clerics’ chamber and assist the two clerics there with whatever they need. Don’t worry about the archives vault, the sergeant here will assign a replacement. Your new task is much more important for the time being.’

  ‘Of course, Master Orix,’ the guard said as he passed them to enter the clerics’ chamber.

  Fal was equally surprised by the gnome’s sudden air of authority.

  Everything’s happening so fast and I don’t like it. I’m placing a lot of trust in you, Orix, and I hope I’m doing the right thing. For all I know, you’re burning the damned evidence.

  ‘What’s happening exactly?’

  ‘The bodies must be burnt, Falchion, and I need your guard to assist my clerics in taking the bodies down to it.’

  ‘With all due respect, Master Orix, I’d gathered that, but why?’

  Orix smiled realising he wasn’t dealing with the average guard. ‘The fire and its extreme heat is the safest, quickest way of destroying the disease. Even after a body dies, the disease it was carrying can be transferred to fleas on the body that might then spread it on and on throughout Wesson. That's usually how the bubonic plague spreads, by fleas, from human to animal and animal to human, and so on. By burning the bodies we reduce the risk, however it doesn’t stop the spread, what with infected people coming into contact with one another throughout the city.’

  Fal’s stomach turned as he realised how fast the disease could spread, potentially out of the city.

  I caused this… I smashed the bottle and I caused it, all by not asking what the hell it was I was doing; trying to be the good soldier as ever. I can’t wash my hands of it because I didn’t know. I should’ve made it my damn business to know. Gods below, enough have died already haven’t they? And how many more before this thing is over… the way he’s talking… the whole city, or even the whole kingdom. Gods above and below, if any of you bastards exist, help us now, I beg you!

  ‘Can we cure it?’ Fal dreaded the response.

  ‘Yes and no. Through magic and potion we can perhaps cure or vaccinate a small number, maybe, but it will take time, which is something we do not have. Even if we were to come up with something right now… Curing or vaccinating Wesson as a whole? We cannot. A plague usually dies out, Falchion, although it takes huge numbers of people with it. I don’t know how we can stop that from happening. Let’s not think of that now. We need to stop it spreading, that's our main concern, but first we must see Lord Severun. We three need to talk about all of this. He needs to know what is happening throughout the city. Then we need to see the King and urge him to close the city gates and blockade the port.’

  ‘Is it not wiser to have the city closed now, to leave Severun until after that?’

  Orix shook his head. ‘No, we need Severun with us on this if we are to go to the King. He is our Grand Master and the King will heed his warning. Of mine he may be sceptical.’

  ‘Very well, Master Orix. Will Severun be in his chamber?’

  ‘We can only hope so, Falchion.’ Without another word, Orix rushed down the corridor to the stairs and Fal followed. They climbed to the top floor of the tower, crossed the waiting chamber and hammered on Severun’s thick chamber door.

  ‘Coming, coming,’ Severun called from the far side of the door. Almost as soon as he'd spoken the words, the door opened. ‘What’s all the banging about Master Orix? Sergeant Falchion?’ Severun sounded shocked, if not suspicious as he addressed the sergeant-at-arms.

  ‘He knows,’ Orix said as he pushed past Severun and entered the large room, ‘but that isn’t why we are here. We have a problem, Lord Severun.’

  Severun’s face
dropped and for once he looked speechless.

  ‘Lord Severun.’ Fal bowed as he greeted the wizard. Severun nodded back and motioned for Fal to enter the room, noticing Fal’s hand on the hilt of his sword. Fal passed Severun and crossed the room to stand beside Orix on the near side of the wizard’s large desk.

  ‘A problem, you say?’ Severun’s voice sounded shaky.

  ‘A very serious problem, yes,’ Orix said.

  ‘With the experiment I take it?’ Severun walked over to his desk and took a seat behind it, his eyes flicking nervously between Orix and Fal. ‘Please, sit down, both of you.’

  Orix climbed up into one of the two seats on his side of the desk and Fal remained standing. Severun didn’t miss the implications of that.

  ‘I’m afraid Wesson is in great danger, my Lord.’ It was Fal who spoke this time, his voice strong and commanding as he addressed his superior. ‘I think you should listen very carefully to what Master Orix has to say. Many, many lives depend on our actions at this point.’

  Severun looked from Orix, to Fal and back. ‘Please Master Orix… go on.’

  ‘I have performed two autopsies today and have made a terrible discovery. I am ashamed to say, Lord Severun, that my potion, working along with your spell, has been concealing a true disease.’

  Severun looked confused. ‘Well isn’t that the point?’

  Orix shook his head. ‘Not exactly no. I have told you before, the symptoms I created were to mask the death of the subjects. The potion itself caused their death… or so I thought, and the surface symptoms created a fake illness so people had a visible cause of death. Unfortunately, the potion has also been masking a deadly disease, the symptoms of which are very similar, although not entirely the same, as my potion.’

  ‘I see no problem there Master Orix. As long as these criminals die and we rid ourselves of them, I don’t see what difference it makes whether it’s your potion or another disease doing the job?’ Severun seemed to relax at this and sat back in his chair.

  ‘You misunderstand, Lord Severun. This disease isn’t restricted to the subjects. The numbers… there’s too many. I can’t believe they’re all our subjects.’

  Severun again leaned forward in his chair, his mouth slightly open and his face draining of colour.

  ‘Do you know what this other disease is, Master Orix?’ he asked eventually, although he looked like he didn’t want to know the answer.

  Orix looked up at Fal and then back to Severun. ‘I’m afraid, Lord Severun, we have an outbreak of bubonic plague.’

  Severun’s mouth fell fully open as the words left Orix’s mouth. He looked to Fal who nodded his confirmation.

  ‘No, surely not. Are you sure of this? Are you certain Master Orix?’

  Orix nodded. ‘Without doubt, Lord Severun, and we must seek an audience with the King immediately. The city must be quarantined, the bodies burnt and vaccines produced for the royal family and nobles of Wesson if possible… for starters.’

  Although staring directly at Orix, Severun seemed to be looking through the gnome.

  Fal thought they were wasting time and so decided to speed things up. ‘Lord Severun, we must act now. The city is in danger, the very city you were trying to protect and make a better place.’

  No answer.

  ‘Severun!’ Fal shouted, and the wizard looked at him, his head bobbing slightly in a half-hearted attempt at a nod.

  ‘Very well… very well…’ he said eventually, ‘we must face the King, explain all and help Wesson.’ Severun looked unsteady as he rose from his seat.

  ‘I know you were trying to help,’ Fal said, ‘that this was an experiment meant for good, my lord. I will explain that to the King. He’ll understand. Our first priority, however, is Wesson and its people.’ Fal turned and walked towards the chamber door, stopping when he reached it to turn and face the two mages. Orix climbed down from the seat and was following him across the chamber when an ear-splitting crack erupted from behind Severun’s large desk. After the initial shock, both Fal and Orix looked to where the wizard had been standing, to see nothing but a hazy cloud, much like steam from a pot.

  ‘Falchion,’ Orix shouted, ‘close the door!’

  Fal obeyed immediately and swung the heavy door shut.

  A muffled cry came from the door as it stopped halfway and bounced back. More steamy gas appeared by Fal’s feet as Severun slowly materialised, lying crumpled in his purple robes on the stone floor. Fal reached down and grabbed the wizard by the throat, using his other hand to wrench Severun’s right arm behind his back.

  ‘Lord Severun, have you lost your mind?’ Orix shouted. As he ran over to the two men, he continued his tirade, ‘What were you thinking? Wesson is in need, it is partly if not wholly our fault and you try and run, to save your own neck. You coward, sir!’

  Fal hauled Severun to his feet and held his throat and arm firm, thus breaking any concentration the wizard might need to cast another spell.

  ‘I’m… I’m sorry… I’m scared… Orix… the Grand Inquisitor will… demand we burn for this.’ Severun gasped for air as he tried to speak. Fal wasn’t going to risk letting him go though.

  ‘The Samorlian Church has no real authority any more, Lord Severun, you know that,’ Orix said, his voice lowering and his eyes softening as his realisation of Severun’s fears swept over him.

  ‘But arcane magic… I have been so… so foolish.’ Severun’s eyes began to fill with tears. Fal felt for the wizard but maintained his hold.

  ‘Arcane magic?’ Orix said, taken aback. He shook his head then, knowing it wasn’t the place or time to be thinking on that. ‘Please Lord Severun, let Falchion release you. Give us your word you will not run. We need to inform the King, give him and his advisers all the information we can on what we have been doing. If we work together we may be able to help reduce the deaths caused by the plague, which can only help our cause with the King. We meant to do only good, he will see that, I am sure of it.’

  Severun nodded slowly against Fal’s grip. ‘I give… you my word, sergeant… I will not… try anything again… I swear it.’

  ‘I will hold you to that, my lord, I give you my word on that.’ Fal slowly released Severun, but placed one hand on his falchion’s hilt again and kept a close eye on the wizard for any sudden movements or silent mouthing of spells. Most sorcerers or magicians couldn’t enact magic without verbal spells or magical items, but a wizard, especially a powerful one like Severun, could and that scared Fal. He had no choice, however, but to accept Severun’s word.

  Orix breathed a sigh of relief and Severun rubbed his throat and stretched the arm Fal had held back. ‘I'm truly sorry, gentlemen. I panicked, truly I did.’

  ‘Make it up to us with your actions from now on, my lord,’ Fal said.

  ‘Oh I will sergeant, I promise you,’ the wizard said, his eyes darting for the briefest of moments to the chest by the window on the far side of the room, a look neither Fal nor Orix noticed.

  ‘On we go then,’ Orix said. ‘After you Lord Severun. Falchion, you next, and off to the palace we go.’

  The three companions descended through the tower, stopping here and there to pass on messages to clerics and orders to guards regarding the plague and what needed to be done. Messengers were sent to the infirmaries and extra guards were placed on Tyndurris’ gates in case of attacks once the news got out. Mages were targeted throughout history for strange events, the ignorant always assuming disasters were brought on by gods or magic. Of course centuries of Samorlian preaching hadn’t helped quell those theories. This time around, however, there was indeed some truth in those claims.

  When they reached the courtyard, there was already an acrid smell of burnt flesh coming from the back of the tower, followed by thick black smoke. Godsiff Starks came running around from the back to see Fal, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he saw the way Fal was watching the Grand Master of the guild.

  ‘Sergeant Falchion, the bodies are on the fire. What now?
’ Starks’ eyes hardly left Lord Severun.

  ‘Thanks, Starks. Bring a coach and driver from the stable and one other guard, ask him to run a message to my house telling my two friends there to meet me at the palace. You shall accompany us there on the coach, riding crossbow.’

  Starks nodded ‘Yes, sergeant.’ He ran off back the way he'd come.

  ‘We will be on the move again when the coach arrives, my lords, and then I hope you can both persuade the King’s men that we need an audience with him immediately.’

  ‘Absolutely, sergeant,’ Severun said, whilst rubbing his throat some more. ‘Oh and thank you.’

  Fal and Orix looked at each other before Fal answered, ‘For what, my lord?’

  ‘For stopping me at the door; should I have been left to flee in my panicked state, things would have become a whole lot worse for me as well as for the city, I am sure. I don’t know what came over me and I apologise to you both sincerely.’ Severun looked at both Fal and Orix and smiled. The smile was genuine; Fal could see it in the wizard’s eyes.

  ‘Then you are welcome, my lord. It was my pleasure, trapping you in the door and holding you there.’ Fal’s stern look broke slightly and the side of his mouth curled upwards into the slightest smile. All three allowed themselves a laugh, welcoming the brief respite.

  A black glossed coach rumbled around the corner, Casson Bevins at the reins, with Starks sat next to him, his crossbow loaded and held aloft.

  Fal smiled. Casson, excellent. We need the news of what’s happening to spread fast, and he’s the perfect man for the job.

  ‘My lords. Sergeant,’ Casson greeted, clearly intrigued as to what was going on as his eyes played over the three men. All three nodded to the driver and Fal opened the cab door, his hand held up to stop Casson climbing down from his seat.