The room of mourning was where the body of a lost loved one would be placed during the five day vigil. During that time a family member must watch the body day and night to ensure it is not taken by the Lacuna. The stories say they are attracted to the freshly dead and can use the link that still exists between the soul and body to consume the person and assume their identity. Once the sun sets on the fifth day the body is carried from the room and burned, severing the link to the soul and allowing both body and soul to pass through the veil to meet the Ferryman. Monk and Tam had come on the fourth night of the vigil hoping the family would be around the body in smaller numbers as the ritual was coming to an end.

Monk stood in the shadows of the corridor watching the door to the room of mourning. On the other side lay his friends corpse, unguarded, his weeping family having gone to join the defense of the house. A profound sense of longing permeated him. Had this gone differently, had he and Tam not rejected Connors death they might have been holding vigil with the family. Sharing in the sense of loss and consoling his mother who had been nothing but good to both of her sons closest friends. But taking part in the vigil meant accepting the death of the only good man left of the three of them. Somehow he had not fallen to the taint that war afflicted hopeful men with, it covered Tam and Monk like scum on the surface of a pond. Invisible to others but they could feel it upon them. Both knew the horrors the other had unleashed, the death and destruction wrought by men with a talent for violence. No, Monk locked his thoughts back onto their objective. Connor should not have died, the world was worse with his absence and they would see to it that this mistake was fixed.

Resolved to commit this act of desecration, another black mark in a book dripping in tar, Monk stepped into the room. Black cloth draped the walls of the wide room and a single candle clasped in the hands of the departed lit the room. Mercifully the candle also served to cover the smell of the room. The scent of burning wick almost covered the smell of chemicals and slow decomposition. The silence felt thick and heavy as the smells, Monks steps thunderous as they took him to the stone block upon which his friends body lay. His breath shook as he gathered himself. Looking at this… husk of his friend was horrifying in a profoundly personal way. He was paler than Monk had ever seen him, his jaw seemed strangely sunken and his lips were too pale. His flesh like alabaster, cold and unyielding as Monk rested a shaking hand upon his arm. He snatched it back swiftly, uncomfortable, and for a moment Monk just stared. It looked as if someone had made a clay sculpture of his friend, a sculpture that was vividly recognizable but also wrong in so many ways. He reached a scarred hand out to touch Connor’s face but drew back before he made contact. Instead he fell to his knees and rested his forehead against the cool stone. Tears ran down his cheeks and over his lips, the salty taste bringing images of blood and battle to his mind and the crashing waves of guilt threatened to drown him. There was so much he wanted to say to his friend but he could think of no way to put it into words. He half formed sentences and let them hang incomplete in the silence, half whispered apologies and promises that felt starkly empty. Deep within himself Monk knew he needed to move quickly but the weight of the silence pushed down upon him. It crushed him into the floor without mercy or remorse. Minutes passed in the dark quiet room, to Monk it felt like hours. The world held its breath as he prepared himself to rupture the rooms sanctity.

An eternity later Monk climbed to his feet, he reached out and touched Connors shoulder, whatever force had held him back before now absent. The silent body felt cold, the skin and muscles firm in death in a way that felt wrong when looking at a man who was previously so full of movement, life and laughter.

“Sorry Con, I should have been there with you.” His voice scratchy and deep intruding on the rooms profound silence.

Feeling a little more himself, possessed by his purpose Monk moved the candle and reached for the deep purple cloth upon which the body had been placed. Wrapping the body tightly within he used a few lengths of rope he had bought to tie it tightly closed, a living body might have bruised from the pressure but the corpse uttered no complaints. Moving to one side Monk picked the body up and clutched it to his chest. The frailness and lack of weight, as if some vital substance had been lost, struck Monk and threatened to crack his composure as he quickly made to exit the room. He awkwardly reached for the handle, encumbered as he was, but the door opened of its own volition. Monk tried to shuffle to the side impotently clutching his burden to his chest. A woman entered, she stood at the door and stared at him with Connor’s icy sapphire eyes. She was a good few inches taller than he remembered, taller even than her brother had been and she shared Connor’s looks as only a sibling would. Her face, confused at initially was quickly taken by an image of rage.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing with my brother?”

*********

Tam hurtled down the long twisting corridors of the house, pursued by a handful of guards. Luckily, the lower floors were less destroyed than the top two and most of the houseguards had gone up there to investigate. Still, damage could be seen in every room and hall. He felt the chalky dust as it stuck to his sweat stained face but he made no move to wipe it. Instead he kept running. As he hurtled past an unconscious woman with a head wound Tam grimaced, he really would have preferred not to hurt anyone but their purpose was important. He careened round corners extending his lead on the chasing men. Finally finding the room they had agreed to meet in Tam burst through the door and found Monk holding a man sized bundle wrapped in purple cloth. The walls of the library were covered in hundreds of books but the titles were hidden in the darkness. Tam found himself looking anywhere but at that cloth bound bundle. A tidal wave of emotions crashed through Tams mind at the sight of it, his will honed by a lifetime of sorcery shunted them away, now was not the time.

“They are right behind me, get out the way we planned. I will lead them away. Meet you outside the city gates when I am able.”

“Tam, hold on…”

“No time, go!” the reply shouted over his shoulder as he bolted back through the door and charged the men who had been chasing him. Sighing he gritted his teeth and resolved himself to try his best not to kill them. At least they were a distraction, he needed one of those like a starving man needed food.

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The five guards were taken aback by this change in behaviour and slowed down, confusion giving them reason to be cautious. Two dropped to one knee sighting the charging man from a range of some thirty metres with their heavy crossbows. Bolts flew from both weapons as one of the more experienced guards shouted a fearful warning.

“Mage!”

He had likely recognised the way Tams hands rippled through the air as he ran at the men, like his hands moved through water. Too late for them to retreat Tam hooked his fingers into the fabric of the air and heaved it to his left. The bolts were thrown into the wall as a blast of wind followed the motion, the gust whipped cloth and hair as if the men were in a typhoon. Horrified expressions plastered across the guards faces as they realised the danger they were in. They began backing up but too slowly. Tam leapt forwards buoyed by the wind which he now dragged in his wake. Flying further than any of the men expected he came down like a hammer striking the fabric of the floor like a bell. The solid stone floor rang with the impact as if it were the skin of a drum throwing. The violent ripples threw everyone off balance. Three of the guards fell into the walls the others tumbled over eachother into a heap. Before they could recover their feet Tam was among them. The close proximity preventing them from drawing swords as Tam layed about himself with elbows and feet smashing into faces and stamping on the instep of one guards foot eliciting a scream. The same guard who had warned the other drew his belt knife and tried to get behind Tams back to strike. Seeing this Tam exposed his back to the man pretending to overextend a foot strike into another guards knee then dove into a roll. The knife impotently clipped one of the armour plates in his heavy robe as the missed lunge sent the guard stumbling. Back on his feet Tam turned to face the off balance man, he stepped forward powerfully using the force of his step to build power behind his next strike. His fist slammed into the guards chest armour like a warhammer. The guards face showed his shock as instead of stopping the fist dead Tams strike hit the fabric of the armour causing it to fold around his strike. Like punching through silk. The half plate did nothing and the crunch of ribs echoed into the corridor. The last standing guard grabbed at Tams cloak and tried to drag him back. He offered no resistance and used the force of the pull to jump backwards, his foot struck out in a vicious kick that bent the mans knee backwards with a sickening pop. Even as he dropped Tam grabbed his head and slammed it into the stone wall. The man slumped to the floor, a smear of blood running down the wall. Tam took off running, behind him the five men groaned in a bloody heap.

Shouts hounded Tam as he ran through the halls seeming to come from every direction, closing in on him like a hangman's noose. He was not sure how many more fights like that he could win. His hand, still a mess from his near death climb had progressed from dull ache to full blown agony, gripping the fabric had been necessary but excruciating. He knew that there was a balcony around here somewhere but he had gotten turned around in the chaos. He hurdled a broken cabinet and pressed himself against the wall at the next intersection. His break came in ragged gulps. Breath caught he peered carefully around the corner and what he saw made his heart drop. Walking towards him flanked by two armoured guards was Connors mother Opal. The statuesque woman wore a traditional black mourning dress but it was covered in the white stone dust that permeated the air. Her dark hair was held back by a gilded hairpin and a furious expression was fixed upon her face. He started to back away when he saw a tapestry he recognised down the opposite hallway, the balcony he wanted was down that way. Swearing under his breath he pulled his hood up and burst from his hiding place and dashed across the open space in front of the woman and her guards. They immediately reacted, one pushed her behind him and stepped into a defensive position as the other drew his blade. Unlike the earlier guards these wore full plate of a dark colour and Tam could feel the knots in the fabric of the armour, these would prevent Tam from repeating his trick with the last guard. Mage killers were not cheap, the armour alone costing a small fortune from one of the few true Weavers, it seemed the family spared no expense in protecting their matriarch.

Continuing at a dead run Tam had almost reached the door to the balcony when a furious voice shouted.

“Tamalin Rook! What the hell are you doing?”

Tam slipped. He had closed his eyes in a vein attempt to avoid the accusation he heard in her tone. She was a woman he cared deeply for and her affection had meant the world to him. So much for disguising this as a robbery gone wrong. Climbing to his feet he looked her in the eyes and set his jaw.

I will not be stopped. His conviction burned brightly even as he fought within himself.

“Where have you been! Did you do this to our house?” His silence seemed to tell her everything she needed to know. “The whole family has been worried sick. Where were you this last week? Why did you ignore our letters?”

“I…” Tam could think of no reply, shame growing inside him like a cancer.

“If you are here that great lump Monk will be here somewhere no doubt.” She said seemingly to herself. Turning to her guards she spoke to the one behind her.

“Go search the rooms nearby.” The female guard nodded, she pulled her helmets visor down and moved down the hall Tam had come from.

“I came alone Opal.” Tam said unconvincingly.

“Of course you did” She said giving him a look mothers give to lying children. He could not help but see how red her eyes were. She looked pale and drawn. A stark contrast to her usual powerful presence. “You should have been here with us. It is what Connor would have wanted. He loved you dearly Tam, we all do. So where were you?” Her voice was laced with sadness now, the fury having left her at the sight of Tam’s hunched shoulders, blood and dust caked his clothing. It was a punch to the gut that hurt more than even his ruined hand and Tam looked down clenching his jaw so hard his teeth creaked.

“You have no idea what he would have wanted.” Tam said quietly, bitterly as he stared at the ground. Tears burned in the corner of his eyes.

“He was my son, of course I do.”

“No, you don’t.” Tam’s voice was a serpentine hiss filled with vitriol. “He was taken from us and you all sit there accepting it, telling yourself how much of a shame it all is.” His voice rising now. “You barely KNEW him, you remember the child he was not the man he became! Eight years we were gone in that hell. Eight years where you patted yourself on the back at raising such a brave son who went to fight for his country. Well our hands are stained with blood and pitch but at least out there we kept eachother safe. Four months at home with you and he is gone, snuffed out like a candle.” He glared at her now blaming her with his burning eyes, tears streaking his dirty face. Opal looked shocked and hurt.

“I loved my son more than anything, how dare you!” Her anger rising to match his own.

“How dare I?” He parroted back at her. “His blood stains your hands Opal but I will not accept this. Now stay out of my way.”

Tam turned and walked through the door. He crossed the room unseeing as he walked out on to the balcony. They did not follow him. He left Opal standing there in the hallway shocked and ashamed. She would thank him in the end, Tam thought as he threw himself from the balcony softening his fall by sliding the fabric of the air between numb fingers. He dropped to the ground and ran into the rain and darkness of the night without looking back.