Chapter 4
[Agios, Patrae-Vasíleio]
[9:45 AM]
Part of Lucas’s caution is due to his years hunting animals and fighting some of nature’s fiercest predators. The smell of blood forces him to expect danger nearby. This situation only exacerbates his response. Possibilities race through his brain: a bear may have caught a whiff of the first body and killed another traveller in the area. What’s worse, Homer may have returned to the area and murdered a passerby, thinking that they were sent from Patras to track him down.
Wren follows closely behind Lucas as he parts the trees at the edge of the road and proceeds down a rocky slope. She has removed the short metal pike from its holster on her arm and grips it with both hands. The raven following them perches on the nearest branch as they move.
At the base of the slope is another patch of vegetation. Lucas pauses just behind it and takes a silent deep breath. Beyond this, Agios lies bare of large trees and shrubs. The only cover is provided by the rubble of buildings. Whatever has caused the second source of blood may lurk behind any corner.
Slowly, Lucas pushes through the brush, leading with his right shoulder. In his right hand is the small knife, held with its blade forward. When half of his body is engulfed by leaves and branches, he makes the rest of the breach swiftly. He leaps out facing forward and makes use of peripheral vision to monitor his left and right. The area is clear.
Wren does the same and comes to stand at Lucas’s right. Beyond them is a maze of ruins extending some 770 meters before terminating at the sea.
“I’ll watch your back, you follow your nose.” Her voice is a barely audible whisper, but Lucas is close enough to hear her clearly. He sees the metal stake in her hands.
“Are you trained in combat?” His volume matches hers. He begins to walk forward with nearly silent footsteps and gravitates to the nearest wall on his left. Wren follows, her body perpendicular to his so that she can look back frequently.
“As a member of the Court’s staff, it’s a requirement.”
“I don’t see a crest on that stake.” He slows to a stop, peeks around the corner, samples the scent of the air, and proceeds down that pathway.
“Well, we’re taught open-hand combat. I learned my weaponry from my father.”
“The one respectable thing about you.” Beyond his thoughts, Lucas remains silent and gives no response.
As the scent of blood grows stronger, he applies more caution to peeking around the next corner. The wall across the path has a small open section that allows them to see into the structure. Aside from this, it looks stable enough to walk along. He and Wren switch to move along that wall and Lucas slowly pokes his head forward. This time, a moving figure catches his attention. The sight drives a surge of adrenaline through his veins. In one motion, he retreats to cover and tightens the grip on his weapons.
“What do you see?”
“Gray wolf.” He leaves the wall, footsteps silent, and begins to walk back the way they came. “It was walking out from behind this building, just one. And they hunt in packs, so—”
His whispering is cut off by the heart-stopping sound of nearby growling. Through the silence, it cuts like thunder. The sound’s direction and magnitude give away the position of the source. He turns to see deep, yellow eyes staring back at him through the gap in the wall. Beneath them, a maw of glaring, sharp teeth. From this position closer to the structure, he can see a similar gap which was previously hidden from view due to its position closer to the far corner.
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The beast pounces. Wren whips her right arm outward to extend the metal stake into a full-length staff. Her strike takes one motion and both arms, sweeping the staff through the air beneath the pouncing beast and into its abdomen. The force of the impact sends it into the cross-section of the wall making up the gap. The resulting yelp is drowned out by a blood-curdling snarl. Lucas turns in time to see a wolf in mid-pounce behind Wren. She notices the danger and ducks, allowing Lucas to swing his hatchet and strike the beast with its back edge.
“They’re usually in packs of six, so expect more.” He doesn’t bother to whisper any longer, knowing that if one wolf has focused on their position, so has the rest of the pack. He continues to follow the scent of blood, running past the wolves on the ground recovering from the initial attacks. Wren follows. After a right turn around the next corner, the source of the scent of blood is found two buildings down the path. Two bodies lying within the remains of what must have been a small shed.
Lucas and Wren scan the area for more predators with their backs to the shed. From this building, the path leads into three directions, forward, left, and right, each flanked by more suburban ruins. The now familiar growling of wolves can be heard emerging from one of the broken walls ahead. Two wolves emerge and begin stalking towards them. Wren takes a ready stance while Lucas looks to his left and right. Similar growling can be heard from both of these directions. From the left, two more wolves. From the right, the same two from before with minor injuries.
“They haven’t committed to attacking us yet. We can still scare them off.” Lucas uses his feet to gather some stones from the base of the building behind him. “Look big and scream at them. Make large swinging motions with your staff.”
Wren nods and changes the grip on her staff so that much of its length extends out ahead of her. With both hands, she begins swinging the weapon over her head and cleaving it through the air in front of her. Lucas follows suit with his hatchet. He kicks the stones at the wolves approaching from his left, making sure to give them enough velocity to threaten harm. When the beasts begin to hesitate in advancing, he escalates the show of force by striking the wall of the building ahead of him with the back of his hatchet. The impact between metal and stone makes a sufficiently loud sound and sends chunks of brick leaping from the wall. He repeats this a few times and even ventures to take two steps in the direction of the wolves as his yelling increases in volume.
Seeing Lucas’s act, Wren makes similar advances towards the two wolves ahead. On her right, the two injured ones are sufficiently wary and already backing away. She points the end of her staff at the beasts in front of her and walks forward as though to strike.
Having well made their threat clear, Lucas and Wren watch as the wolves cautiously leave. They do the same, walking backwards towards the shed while keeping their eyes forward and ensuring that the beasts don’t have second thoughts. The predators to the left and right disappear behind the ruins to join up with the two directly ahead. As a pack, they move further away until out of sight.
“I hope that’s the end of that.” Wren pushes the ends of her staff into the middle section, shrinking it back down into a stake and sliding it back into its holster.
Lucas takes a deep breath. “They shouldn’t come back. Not as long as we’re in front of this shed.” He brings his hatchet up to rest on his shoulder. “Speaking of which, let’s take a look at the bodies.”
They enter the shed through the gap where the door used to be. The skeleton of the roof is still partially intact, projecting shadows onto the wooden floor. Blood stains the planks in streaks leading from the door to the bodies. The pattern implies that the bodies were dragged into the structure. On the left side, both bodies lie face-up, one partially on top of the other. Lucas and Wren make their approach. As can be seen, both bodies are male. Sunlight reflects off of an object attached to the belt on the closer body.
“This one on top has a crest on his belt.” Lucas walks carefully so as not to step into the blood on the floor. Wren passes him and crouches at the body to examine the crest.
“It’s real.” She looks up at the man’s face. “This one is Dalton. As for this other—” Her voice cuts off into silence when her gaze becomes fixed on the body beneath Dalton’s.
“What’s that?” Lucas takes a step forward to look at the more obscured body. Upon seeing it, he also becomes speechless. Before them lies the unexpected sight of two bodies sharing the same face and figure. With closer inspection, even the same brass crest is found on the second man.
Wren breaks the silence with but a whisper, as though speaking of the sight before them might cause it to disappear into nothing. “They’re identical…”