Chapter 33 – The End of the Road
An uncomfortable silence fell over the courtyard following Melanc’s death as each of their band went about silently performing whatever task they chose. Zull walked over to the slain assassin and, kneeling next to his body, inspected it for any clues or items that could guide them to the Master’s possible whereabouts. Zaphyr, arms crossed, stood nearby, her expression stormy and distant. Sir Kyr, who was limping somewhat, vanished into the dead assassin’s mansion, returning a few minutes later, his trusty blades restored to his side once more. Vard helped the remaining thrall, the unwitting instrument in Melanc’s accidental death, reorient himself, and then guided the shaken and bewildered man out of the compound. Vyle and his remaining followers, Henricks and Velen, worked alongside Sir Kyr to scavenge what of their supplies they could. They were able to retrieve several pieces of equipment, but of their food and drinking water, they found nothing. The general gloom that fell across the group was shared by the weather itself, as clouds overshadowed the garden and cast a gray pallor on everything. A faint chill hung in the air, threatening more rain later that night, or perhaps the next day.
At last, Zull finished looking over Melanc and, standing up, expressed his general disappointment with a grunt, dusting his hands off on his robes as he did so.
“Well?” Zaphyr said, uncrossing her arms as she took a step towards him.
“Nothing,” Zull said resignedly. “He didn’t have anything on him, except for a few vials of his own blood. There’s nothing connecting him to the Master, or anything else for that matter. He might as well have been a ghost, for all he carried.”
“Another dead end,” Zaphyr said, her tone one of resigned defeat. “Another failed attempt to kill us, another body to bury.”
Zull glanced across the yard, taking in the two fallen thralls as he did so. “You’ve left behind some bodies as well, today, Zaphyr. I’m surprised, and a little worried for you.”
She turned to face him, and he took a step backwards, raising his hands placatingly when he saw the look of mingled fury and contempt on her face. “Isn’t this what you and Sir Kyr intended?” she spat at him, making him flinch backwards in response “For us to kill? To violate every rule that Gerok taught us? Because we have, now. Do you think I wanted to do this?”
“Do you think I want to?” he asked quietly. She stared at him for a moment, stricken, before rushing forward and grabbing him in a tight embrace.
They hugged for a moment, then she stepped back, saying, “I feel…so, vile and horrible inside. I’ve killed today. Thrice. And they were all innocents! People who Melanc forced into his sick and twisted contest against us.”
“I know,” Zull said. “It’s ironic: of all the people here, the only truly evil one was Melanc, and he died at his own hands, if in a roundabout way.”
“It’s all so lopsided, and nightmarish,” Zaphyr said, wrapping her arms around herself as if to ward off the cold. “I want it to be over, Zull.”
“It will be soon,” he told her, glancing up at the sky as he did so. “We’re only a day or so from Melkis, remember? After that, it’s a quick trip to the palace, then we find some way to meet the Empress and we deliver our news.”
“When you say it like that, you make it all sound so simple,” Zaphyr grumbled, though from the faint smile twitching at the corners of her mouth Zull knew that he had mollified her somewhat.
“You should be proud that you have made it this far,” Sir Kyr said as he strode over and joined them. “How many others your age could face not one, but four ruthless assassins, and prove the victor every time? Your strength and cunning are such that the greatest of warriors would envy you.”
“We hardly bested them by ourselves,” Zull reminded Sir Kyr. “We have had a lot of help in all those circumstances.”
“True strength,” Sir Kyr said sagely, “comes from working with others, not from demonstrating your abilities alone, Zull. Truly learn that, and you will be far more capable then fools like this Melanc or that lunatic Zared Choler, no matter how skilled or strong they were.”
Vard, having finished his own task by this point, joined the trio standing over Melanc’s corpse as well. “As much as I admire your discussion of virtue, Sir Kyr, we have a more immediate problem we must deal with.”
“Oh?” the wolf knight said, his amber eyes watching Vard.
“Yes, there is an issue, both on a practical and moral level, of the three dead bodies currently littering this yard,” the bard said crossly.
“We can bury the bodies,” Sir Kyr said with a shrug. “We’ll be leaving this city before sundown regardless; after that, they won’t be our problem any longer.”
“I was half-afraid you were going to suggest we take them for provisions,” Vard muttered under his breath. In a normal tone, he said, “Well, then that still leaves the moral difficulty. Zaphyr, you crossed a line today. Granted, a self-imposed one, but a boundary was crossed, nonetheless. You took life. Repeatedly.”
“I know,” she said, the faintest quiver in her voice.
Vard tilted his head to his side. “And?”
“What do you want from me?” she asked, annoyed and visibly agitated. “A confession? I regret it, yes, but I can’t go back and change it, and I didn’t see any other way at the time.”
“Well,” Vard said, “as you say, it cannot be helped now, though I fear we have lost something today.”
“We lost our last good lead to the Master, among other things,” Zull said. “We just have to hope that, whoever the Master is, they learn their lesson after the fourth failed attempt and stay out of our way until we can deliver our message to the Empress.”
“Doubtful,” Sir Kyr said, though the others did not hear him over the noise of the final members of their band came and joined them.
“Thank you for rescuing us, Zull, Zaphyr,” Argus Vyle said, his tone one of forced cheerfulness. He clapped the twins on the back, grinning broadly, though the pain in his eyes was evident. “After Phlegm’s experiments and this fellow’s ‘games,’ I think I have had quite my fill of hemomancy. No offense.”
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“We checked through the house,” Henricks offered. “All his thralls are either dead or have fled. Everyone’s accounted for.”
“Not quite everyone,” Zull countered. “I haven’t heard nor seen anything of Sangue since she was captured. The last I saw her, she was in the barn with the rest of you before you were captured by Melanc. I assume she was captured as well, but after that, I don’t know. What happened to her? Did Melanc kill her?”
“If only we were so lucky,” Vard commented.
Vyle frowned, fiddling with his mustache as he spoke. “At first, Melanc treated her like the rest of us, like she was another prisoner…but then he drew her aside, spoke with her. They started arguing about something, and then he freed her. She left the house, shortly after that.”
“What?” the twins said in unison.
Sir Kyr nodded once, confirming it. “It’s true, I fear; Melanc released Sangue, who fled. She could well have left the city by now.”
“We have to go after her!” Zaphyr said, already beginning to run towards the door before Zull put a restraining hand on her arm.
“What’s the point?” he asked his sister. “We have no way of knowing precisely where she is, and she’s a single person in a large city. If she still wanted her revenge against us, wouldn’t the most logical thing she could have done been to attack us already, while we were separated and vulnerable?” In a quieter tone, he added, “Besides, she does not have long to live. A few more days, at best. We don’t have to worry about her anymore, Zaphyr.”
Zaphyr, staring off into the distance yet seeing nothing, said softly, “Do you truly think so, Zull?”
Zull smiled reassuringly. “I am as certain as I can be.”
Seemingly comforted by this, Zaphyr relaxed somewhat, moving to stand besides Zull, who shifted his attention to Vyle. “Well, Melanc is dead, Sangue is gone, and we are, though bloodied, still here. What happens now?”
“I had hoped you would have the answer to that question, lad,” Vyle said gruffly. Though the bandit leader was trying his best to mask how he felt, Zull could tell that he had been truly shaken by what had happened to him during the past day. I would be as well, Zull thought. Nothing in life could ever be more terrifying than having your will stripped away, your body used like a puppet against your will. In that instant, Zull found that he loathed Melanc more than he had ever hated anyone else, despite the assassin already being dead.
“Can’t we simply continue on to Melkis?” Zaphyr asked.
“We could,” Vyle admitted. “But it isn’t quite that simple. Almost all the supplies we brought- our food, water, and most of our weapons- were lost when Melanc attacked us.”
“It’s only a day to Melkis,” Zaphyr said. “We can go that long without water or food. And, once we reach the capital and speak with the Empress, she will take care of the Master. We don’t have to worry about him or his assassins anymore, I think.”
“That’s…remarkably optimistic of you, lass,” Vard said. “You assume that, after this, the Master will simply stop?”
“He won’t have the chance to send anyone else, before we see the Empress,” Zaphyr insisted. “And once we do, he will have much more pressing issues than us.”
“I saw we do as the lass suggests,” Henricks said, scratching at the side of his neck as he spoke. “Make a run for the capital, see the Empress, and put an to end this whole mess.”
“Nearly half of us are badly wounded, including Zaphyr, I should add,” Velen pointed out. “If we walk into that city now, we’re practically inviting an ambush. Doubtless, yes, the Empress can help, but we must ready ourselves first, or we’ll be as good as dead!”
“Funny,” Vyle said under his breath. “I never thought I would go to her for help with anything. What a mad world we live in.”
Zull considered this, frowning thoughtfully as he considered. “What do you think, Vard?” he asked at last. “What are our alternatives? Hide here in Veb, lick our wounds, and wait until we think it’s safe to continue our journey?”
Vard sighed. “I don’t know, Lad. After this last nightmare, I can only hope we’ve seen the last of the Master and his minions, but that’s all I can do: hope.” He rubbed at his chin, his bleary, bloodshot eyes showing just how much of a toll their quest was taking on him, along with the rest of them. “As before, as always, the decision is yours and Zaphyr’s, in the end.”
Zull’s gaze met Zaphyr’s, and he saw the intensity there, a feverish spark he did not recognize. This journey is changing all of us, and not for the better, Zull thought. Maybe it would be better to just end it, risk everything on a final gamble. Looking over then, Zull saw Sir Kyr, standing by himself at the edge of the garden. The knight had been unusually quiet since their rescue had succeeded, and Zull suspected he knew why.
Sir Kyr looked notably mangier than he had at any point since Zull had known him, and in places, his fur was beginning to fall out. Indeed, what had happened to Sangue was doubtless affecting him as well. Zull was simply grateful that, due to Sir Kyr’s natural resiliency, the process was proceeding slower. However, Zull knew with a sense of dread certainty that it hadn’t, and wouldn’t, stop altogether. If we want any chance of saving him, then we must reach the capital, Zull considered glumly. We don’t have time to rest, to prepare before pressing on. We must go now.
“I agree with Zaphyr,” Zull said, wiping the dust from his hands onto his knees as he did so. “This is a time to act, not to delay. Too much is at stake to risk it all now by holding back.”
“Alright, lad,” Vyle said, though his tone expressed some lingering doubt. “Lead the way.”
Zull stepped outside of the compound, the rest of them trailing behind him in a small band. Zaphyr stopped to pick up her kitten, then walked to the front of the group, trailing slightly behind Zull. Once they had left the compound, they made their way down the city’s streets and towards the main thoroughfare. Their group drew a great deal of attention from the surrounding crowds: a group of battered, bloodied individuals limping along couldn’t help but do so. They had thrown an ancient, dusty brown cloak they had found in the mansion over Sir Kyr, managing to hide his monstrous appearance somewhat. Nevertheless, people would cast a single uneasy glance their way before scurrying for shelter, doing their best to avoid eye contact at all costs with them.
They were undoubtedly drawing more attention then was safe, but Zull couldn’t bring himself to care all that much; his mind had already leapt ahead to the next major obstacle they were soon to face: Velen is right; if the Master’s influence is as great as Vard suggested, then the city will doubtless be crawling with his spies and informants. The question is how to approach the Empress without alerting them. Zull recalled that, since it was the Empress’ Jubilee, there would doubtless be celebrations of all sorts happening throughout Melkis. On the one hand, there will doubtless be plenty of opportunities for us to hide in the crowds and avoid the Master’s notice that way. On the other hand, the Empress will doubtless be even more closely guarded than usual.
“I would pay a great deal to know what you are thinking right now,” Vard said to Zull.
“Hmm?” Zull said as he came out of his reverie. “Oh, I was just considering what we need to do next. We’re so close, Vard. So, so very close I can practically see it.” He looked at Zaphyr, who was walking alongside him, drawn in on her own thoughts as he had been. Her expression was drawn, haunted; a far cry from the cheerful Zaphyr he had known from before their quest had begun. She cradled her kitten in her arms. The only sign of happiness she showed was the occasional flicker of joy crossed her face when she looked down at it. Zull considered it a minor miracle that in all the chaos the kitten hadn’t been lost. “It will be good for this to be finished, Vard. Not just for the good we’ll have done. Good for us.”
“Someone a little less wise than I might say you were being selfish, Zull,” Vard said. “But I understand what you mean. The end of the road appeals to all travelers.”
“And someone less humble than yourself might say you were being arrogant,” Zull said, though his tone clearly conveyed he meant it as a jest. “Thank you, Vard.”
“Of course,” the bard said. “I am with you until the end of the journey, Zull, you know that. We all are. Your sister and you don’t have to do this alone.”
“I know,” Zull said, relaxing his posture somewhat. By this point, the ragged group had reached the edge of the city, and now stood on a cobblestone road which wound between the many grass-covered hills which stretched before them. The sky overhead was still clouded, but whatever danger of a storm there had been had since passed. Zull knew, though the terrain prevented him from being able to see it, that beyond those hills lay extensive flatlands, where much of the empire’s agriculture was done. Once they had crossed that final stretch of plains, they would at last reach Melkis, and be within sight of their goal. “Another day and we will be there: the end of the road.”