Hristo rode at the head of the column with Anastasia Shirin and Nocolo Hugo at his side. Anastasia was from a lesser house in O’Bell, a country completely dominated by women. They were still hours away from Kilburn and she allowed her platinum blonde hair to fall below shoulder length. Many of the O’Bell knights embraced masculine traits, but Anastasia radiated both strength and femininity. Her features were perfect and noble, making her a unique beauty. Her armor was not revealing, though it had been constructed to accommodate her generous curves. Her cloak was white with gold trim, and she wore no tunic, claiming no fealty to any noble house.
Nocolo Hugo was also a knight. The one thing that the three of them had in common was that they were nobles who would never sit in seats of power. They were second sons, or daughters, that from birth were expendable. They had been brought up in luxury and given the best training available, but if they were to pass courageously in battle, their parents could not have been more pleased. Nocolo came from Khatuna, the country just east of Chuo. He was a first cousin to the King Gabriel Herron, but the Herron line was now full of sons and daughters and the Hugo line would always be far, far from the throne. He was nearly as tall as Hristo at about six foot two, perfectly proportioned with short dark brown hair and no facial hair. He wore plate that was more of a pewter color and trimmed with dark brown panels on his cloak. Instead of carrying a shield, he opted for twin long swords that he was adept at wielding.
The three knights led a hundred mounted soldiers, some knights, but most were career soldiers in the king’s service. The trip from the capitol had only taken a few days and they would be entering the city before noon. Hristo had dragged the mayor back to his uncle’s court where he was not sentenced to death, but he would not experience freedom for a very long time. King Syphon was enraged, but moreover, he was saddened by how his subjects were allowing themselves to wallow in despair and depravity. Kel Syphon had led men to war in his youth, but now in his middle age, he let the younger men be the tip of the spear. As an older king, he sent men off to war on his behalf to carry out his decrees. His brother’s son was the oldest of the new generation and he respected both his fighting skill and his character.
“Hristo, it’s hard to believe the stories you’ve told us are true. I don’t doubt you, but it seems like such a terrible fate for law-abiding citizens,” Anastasia said.
“You’ll soon see Madam. The people of Chuo have always been a warm and accepting people, but this wave of lawlessness must be quashed. You are a knight as Sir Hugo and I are, so I’ll not pretend that you cannot handle the vile nature of what has happened to the good people of Kilburn. We are charged with bringing law and justice to the city, and as the king’s representative, I will be judge, jury… and executioner.”
“Have you ever killed a man?” Nocolo asked.
“I have not, and I do not relish the idea of taking a life, but if it is required to save my life, your lives, the lives of any innocents… then I must find the fortitude to do what’s required.”
“I have. On two occasions, men have died by my blades. I assure you; I did what was necessary to protect the life of a dear friend on one occasion and to carry out the King’s justice on another.” Anastasia and Hristo looked at him, feeling compassion for what he must have gone through, and apprehension that they soon would be required to do the same.
As they entered the outskirts of Kilburn, the townspeople had no idea what to make of them. They flew the banner of House Syphon, so they didn’t fear that it was an invasion, but it was still an odd sight. Not wanting the criminals to have too much advanced notice, they headed directly for the entertainment quarter.
“Nocolo, take two squads of men and circle just there,” he said, pointing. “Madam Shirin, take your swords to the left. They will try to flee, as rats do. We must try to kill or capture all those that are responsible for the degradation of this once shining city.”
“You may call me Anastasia,” she said to Hristo. “I’m a long way from O’Bell, with no designs to return anytime soon.”
They separated, Hristo taking the bulk of the troops and marching them down the main thoroughfare, the others taking a couple dozen men each and flanking the trouble area. The common citizens had nothing to fear, but when they entered the pleasure district, the lowlifes saw them coming and ran into their holes. When they reached a large gaming house, they dismounted.
“Captain Norman, bring ten men and follow me,”
“Milord,” he said while giving a slight bow, then sorted through his men. A minute later, Hristo was leading a dozen into the front of the establishment.
“Who is the owner of this establishment?” he asked, just inside the door.
A tall, fat man waddled up to them, looking both flustered and perturbed. “I am, milord. What is this all about.”
“Gambling is a sin. It separates good men from coin that they need to support their families.”
“That may well be the case, but it’s not a crime, milord.”
“It is now. This establishment is closed, as of now. Take your ill-gotten gains, pack them, and find your way out of Kilburn. In fact, I would recommend you leave Chuo altogether.”
“But… you have no authority!” the fat proprietor sputtered.
“Oh, but I do!” Hristo produced a proclamation from his armored gauntlet and unrolled it. “By order of King Kel Syphon, who is my uncle by the way, all establishments deemed to be counter to the best interests of the citizens of Kilburn, and Chuo as a whole, will be considered prohibited and must be closed immediately. Those who defy this decree will be considered criminal and must suffer the king’s judgment, as carried out by my representative, Hristo Syphon.”
“But, but...”
“You are the first in many stops, and my good nature is still intact. Begone. Fifteen minutes from now, you will be a criminal, and I might feel it necessary to make an example of you.”
The man collected himself enough to bow quickly, then ran to his office. Within the allotted fifteen minutes, he was riding an ass out of town with two saddlebags, stuffed with what was almost certainly the life savings of a hundred or more men who’d suffered from the weakness of gambling out of control.
When he was long gone, the captain turned to Hristo, “That was not too terrible.”
“Of all the sins we’ll see today, this is the least offensive.” He looked around the main hall at the gaming tables and the expensive decorations. “Destroy it all. Everything here must be reduced to unusable rubble. No fires, but I want nothing left here but the empty shell of this building.”
Anastasia had the whores lined up on the street, leaning against the wall in various stages of undress. She harangued them for an hour, and by the time she was finished, most of them would wind up heading back to the farms and small villages they came from. The pimps and panderers did not fare nearly as well. The soldiers had no problems with women of the night, but they had no love for the men who sold them and took the lion’s share of their earnings. The men and a few women were dragged from their lounges in chains.
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“Whip them,” Hristo said calmly. The other knights looked at him in shock, but the captain of the guard didn't change his expression as he went to assign a half dozen men to carry out the sentence. The cries of pain echoed through the narrow streets as long leather straps were brought down repeatedly on the backs of the sentenced.
After long hours of work, the soldiers had broken up several gaming houses, a dozen brothels, and pubs that catered to prostitutes and their customers. The constables had come in force to reestablish a sense of order and when they saw who had caused the commotion, they stood down. The Sherrif sought the leader and soon found himself the subject of Hristo’s withering stare.
“I know you wear the crest of House Syphon, but you can’t just blow into town and create havoc like this!” he fumed.
“That’s where you’re wrong. I can, and we have. This is not a democracy, you serve at the pleasure of my uncle, the king. The mayor has been removed and a replacement will arrive soon. You are the highest-ranking keeper of the peace, and from what I’ve seen, there is no law and order in the city anymore. You and your men can swear allegiance, again, to your lord and master, King Syphon. If not, your choices are down to banishment or death.”
“They’ve already failed,” Nocolo said. “Under their watch, crime has gone through the roof. They collect salaries paid by the taxes of the people of Kilburn, and instead of providing the safety and security that was paid for, they sat back and allowed a criminal empire to flourish.”
“What say you?” Anastasia asked. “I say they be put to the knife! How can they call themselves men if they have no honor?” The constables became extremely nervous. They looked at each other while gripping the pommels of their short swords.
“You,” Hristo pointed at the Sherrif, “can no longer serve in your current position. There may be redemption for these men, but you were their leader and bore a higher level of responsibility. Leave now before I let Lady Shirin take your head.” The man looked at them, knowing that he had no choice. Without reply, he dropped his gaze, turned, and worked his way through the crowd. “Will you men reaffirm your oaths to your neighbors, to your country, and to your king?” A few of the officers drifted away, but the majority stayed and saluted their prince. “If you see that man in this city after noon tomorrow, collect him and bring him to the court for execution.”
A guard with a kerchief over his mouth stood at the entrance, as much to keep people in as to keep unwanted people out. He motioned for his partner to stand firm with him to form a barrier to the knight’s entry. The men were tall and solidly built, the perfect body type for their job. They both stood tall and drew their short swords.
“You lot are not welcome…” his words were cut off by the sword point that had been pushed through his windpipe. Nocolo had simultaneously impaled the other man with his other sword, thrusting it through the center of his chest.
“You’re ambidextrous?” Anastasia said with a degree of respect.
Hristo and Nocolo pushed the bodies aside and they strolled into the smoky drug den. “Wearing the masks was the one thing they had right,” he said to his fellow knights. “I sense the taint of evil here. Not the bad nature of these guards, or the pettiness or greed that is everywhere here in Kilburn, but a true evil.” They tied cloths around their nose and mouth and entered the dark, smoky room. Just as before, the room was filled with the addicted who looked closer to death than life. Both men and women who had given up both food and hygiene to sustain their inhalation of Waste. They ignored the knights, except for the mistress of the house. She approached them haughtily, ready to scold.
“This one has the scourge, the smell of evil about her,” Hristo said.
“I pay my protection!” she yelled at the knights. “You have no right to be here, and I do not respect your claim to authority!”
“She is mine,” Anastasia said. She put her steel gauntlets around the woman’s throat and began to squeeze. The older woman sputtered and squirmed, trying with all her strength to break the female knight’s grip. Anastasia ignored her, looking around the room at both men and women, brought low by a drug that was addicting and caused good people to devolve into the creatures that lay around the room. She cried for women who had been used and abused while in the grip of intoxication. As an O’Bell knight, she was especially conscious of the plight of her sex. It took two long minutes for the older woman to go slack, her mouth open like a fish and her eyes popping from their sockets. Anastasia dropped her carelessly to the ground.
“Mercy for these?” she asked Hristo.
“Yes.” He looked with compassion at his uncle’s subjects. “There is too much corruption here, too much evil to appear so suddenly. I sense that there is a greater evil at play here. Some plot to erode our core and defeat us from within.”
Clean-up had gone on for hours and there was no end in sight. Thieves and moneylenders were led away in chains. Whores and beggars were scolded severely and instructed to seek the forgiveness of the gods. Gambling houses, brothels, and lounges that sold drugs were utterly destroyed. Soldier were scurrying around at their various task and the knights were busy supervising.
“I sense a great evil!” Hristo said aloud.
“How do you sense evil?” Nocolo asked. Before he could get an answer, a blast of pain struck everyone within a hundred yards. Men fell screaming to their knees and clutched at the sides of their heads. In seconds, some fell to the ground with blood seeping from their noses and eyes. Anastasia and Nocolo were equally affected, but Hristo was spared the full effect of the attack. Using his ability to sense evil, he followed the stench as if it were indeed a scent that a hound would follow. Sword in hand, he stalked into a nearby silversmith after the trail. He could still feel the pressure of an assault on his mind, a brute force blast meant to melt his brain and reduce him to a vegetative state. He didn’t need to go from room to room but knew that he had to go to the upper level.
In a small room that looked out over the street he found what appeared to be a man, but when it turned, what he saw was a thing of nightmares. It was tall and dressed in a black leather long coat that reached nearly to the floor, with plate mail shoulders and chest. The hands were cruel, with each long finger ending in a razor-sharp claw. What distinguished it as not being human though was the head. The bald head looked leathery and grey, and where the nose and mouth should have been, there were four tentacles like an octopus. Its eyes were dull, yet still filled with hate. The tentacles squirmed around, seemingly with a mind of their own.
“I feel your evil, creature! Whatever you are, the gods command me to expel your filth from Xoran!” Hristo lunged at the creature, his sword cutting through its shroud but missing the flesh. He swung again, finding only empty air where he thought the creature was. The blade of a knife tried to pierce his chest armor, but the plate was too thick. He saw it right in front of him, but when he swung his longsword in a sweeping arc, the blade seemed to pass through the creature.
I’m not a creature, our kind are Illithid. In ancient times, you humans called us Mind Flayers, it thought to Hristo. The Mind Flayer was directly in front of him, but he felt a knife point sink into the side of his neck. Blood gushed out onto his brilliant armor as pain exploded through his system.
How are you able to resist my mind attacks? Your companions are near death, and you continue to fight!
“I am a follower of the Old Gods, a true believer in the code of conduct for the warriors of the blessed, and by the Sword of Domina, I will purge your evil!” Hristo began glowing brightly, his whole body radiating a pure white light. The Mind Flayer was repelled by the light and felt pain from the truth and righteousness of Hristo’s illumination. He could now see the monster off to his right, near where he’d been struck. With a flick of his sword, he took off the Mind Flayer’s knife hand.
There was a scream that he could only hear in his mind, but looking around, he could see that everyone could feel the Mind Flayer’s suffering. With his opponent momentarily stunned, Hristo stepped closer and brought his sword down with a chopping motion that cut through the thin plate on its shoulder and buried deep in the torso. Pulling his blade free, he sliced at the leathery-looking neck, a second strike took the head off. The eyes went blank, but the tentacles continued to gesticulate for several more seconds.
“By the gods, what the hell was that!” Nocolo asked. He stood shakily and daubed at blood coming from his ear.
“It called itself a Mind Flayer.”
“That’s an accurate description,” Anastasia said rubbing her temples. “My brain feels flayed and now I have a legendary headache.”
“It seems that you were not affected, or at least not nearly to the degree that the rest of us were,” Nocolo said. “Right before it attacked, you were talking about being able to ‘sense evil’. Are you a mage as well as a knight, Prince Syphon?”
“I am a follower of Domina. The sect is a hard road to travel, but there are benefits that even I didn’t realize. It takes utter dedication to the scrolls, handed down from Domina herself. Your heart must be pure, and your faith must be strong.”
Anastasia and Nocolo spoke in unison, “Tell me more about Domina!”