Chapter 9 – The Knight’s Tale
Sir Kyr took a long moment looking around the grove of trees, as if drawing his strength and serenity from the surrounding environment, as he considered how best to begin his story. After careful consideration, he took a deep breath and said, “Contrary to what many believe, even among some less experienced hemomancers, it is very, very difficult to build an entire living being from scratch. In fact, the little research I have done has led me to believe it is outright impossible. Thus, when a mad hemomancer wants to fashion an abomination, they first take an existing life and alter it, twist it to fit their twisted vision for their new creation.”
Zaphyr shuddered, wrapping her arms around her shoulders as if to keep warm. “How horrible,” she said quietly.
Zull frowned, considering this. “I’m assuming that you were…made the same way then?”
Sir Kyr nodded sadly. “I was. Once, I was Sir Randolph Kyr, a true knight, a human knight, with a humble but sufficiently prosperous estate far from here, in the province of Wyllshire, and a modestly successful career in her majesty the Empress’ military.” He bared his fangs and growled, seeming subconsciously. “Then, he arrived.”
Both twins leaned forward at this statement, curiosity written all over their faces. “He?” they said, speaking as one. “Who?”
Sir Kyr drew one of his swords from its scabbard and studied the dried blood caked along its length, left over from his brutal battle with the Plague Rats. As he continued speaking, he used a single talon to slowly scrape away the blood. “His name, or at least the one he used at the time, was Aldus Phlegm. I can still see him with perfect clarity. A withered old man, partially stooped over, with a little pair of pince-nez perched on the tip of his nose, and a brilliant, devilish gleam to his eyes. He never smiled, except when performing an operation, and then it was a smile of pure, twisted joy. He lived to cause others pain and to feel that pain vicariously through them. But I am getting ahead of myself. He and his silent ghoul of a daughter, who never spoke a word aloud in all my time knowing that fiendish pair, moved into Wyllshire, seemingly appearing from nowhere. Aldus claimed to be an accomplished and well respected hemomancer, with a specialty in surgery. His daughter, allegedly, was his assistant. We did not have any talented hemomancers in Wyllshire at the time, so I agreed to let them rent a small cottage on my estate while he practiced his arts. For the first few months, things went well: he helped many of my tenants recover from their assorted illnesses and injuries, and no one had any grievance towards the pair.” Sir Kyr stopped talking then, amber wolf’s eyes clouded.
“And then?” Zaphyr pressed, curious to hear the rest of the story.
“And then,” Sir Kyr said bitterly, “the disappearances began.”
The twins gulped, sensing where the story would lead, but morbidly curious to hear out the fallen knight’s tale regardless.
“They were sporadic at first, rare and infrequent enough that no one noticed a pattern. A young peasant here, a merchant’s son there,” Sir Kyr said with a flick of his hand. “Nobody connected the disappearances at first, but they continued to happen, and soon the number of victims had crossed the threshold of a dozen. People were starting to panic, so I gathered several other local lords, and we organized a search for whoever was behind the disappearances. We combed through all Wyllshire for weeks without even the faintest of leads, until finally, I realized the bitter truth: the disappearances had begun shortly after the arrival of our prize new hemomancer. I wish I had never made that realization.”
“What happened then?” Zaphyr asked.
“Like a fool, I went alone to confront Aldus Phlegm and his daughter, Sangue, to ask them if they were involved in the disappearances. Like a greater fool, I believed Phlegm’s reassurances otherwise, and even accepted his offer for a meal at their cottage. That food was undoubtedly poisoned, and I passed out before we had even finished eating. When I woke up, I found myself like this.” Sir Kyr gestured bitterly to his wolf’s head as he said this last statement.
Zull stopped leaning against the tree and stood up at this statement. “How?”
Sir Kyr shrugged. “I wouldn’t pretend to understand the inner workings of hemomancy, but somehow that fiend and his daughter had found a way to stitch human beings and animals together. Wolves were their animal of choice, but they used boars, bears, and all kinds of other beasts as well when making their abominations.”
“They must have used blood bindings,” Zull said, thinking aloud. “Otherwise, the human body would reject the animal attachments and die.”
“I have suspected as much for years, although I have been unable to prove it,” Sir Kyr agreed.
Zaphyr’s face had turned slightly green and she shook visibly. “How could anyone do such a thing?” she whispered.
“To make an army. What else?” Sir Kyr fell silent then, his talon visibly trembling with inner fury at the remembrances of the hemomancer and his daughter’s crimes, leaving an erratic pattern of scratches along his blade’s edge. Once he regained his composure, he continued, saying, “Aldus and Sangue kept me and the other ‘abominations’ they had made as slaves in the woods near their cottage, safely out of sight as they used us to help build and expand the laboratory in which they worked. Worse, they sometimes forced us to help them abduct more subjects for their twisted experiments. We had to do what they said, or else they would subject us to tortures that I will spare you the horror of describing.”
“Eventually, however, Aldus grew too confident, and ordered all his creations out in a single group to attack a nearby village. Confident in their hold over us, neither Aldus nor Sangue joined our expedition. His plan had been for us to abduct all its inhabitants, which he could then add to our ranks. Had we done as they wished, they no doubt would have had a force strong enough to depose the other lords and seize control of all Wyllshire. However, halfway to the village, I spoke out, appealing to my fellow abominations that we could not allow what had happened to us to happen to anyone else, and we agreed to return in force and slay our masters, to prevent their evil from contaminating Wyllshire any further. We turned back towards their laboratory, and we may have even succeeded at killing them, if we had not been intercepted along the way by my comrades in arms, the other nobles, who were still seeking the cause of the disappearances. They didn’t recognize me or any of the others,” Sir Kyr said bitterly, “and assumed that we must have been responsible for those missing. They attacked us, and, untrained and confused as many of us were, it turned into a slaughter. Only I among the ‘abominations’ survived, by faking my death after receiving a fatal-looking injury to my side that, fortunately, proved less lethal than it appeared.”
“That’s horrible,” Zaphyr said, raising a hand to her mouth in dismay.
Sir Kyr laughed, but there was no mirth in the hollow sound. “Indeed. Although I survived, my wounds quickly grew infected, and I passed out shortly after that battle. When I eventually awoke, I dragged my way across Wyllshire to Phlegm’s laboratory.”
Zull, now as interested in the tale as his sister, asked, “What did you find there?”
Sir Kyr returned his now cleaned blade to its scabbard. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Phlegm and his daughter must have decided that things were getting too dangerous for them in Wyllshire at present, and so they left, seeking safer havens with fresh victims. I would later learn they were wanted in other parts of the empire, under other names and for similar crimes, but I have not seen them nor heard word of them since. Afterwards, since the disappearances had stopped, the people of Wyllshire celebrated, believing that they had successfully slain the cause of their troubles.”
Zaphyr glanced up then at the tattered clouds in the sky overheard, some of which were the dark, tumultuous gray she associated with coming storms. “And what did you do?”
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“After waiting for the last of the panic to blow over and having scavenged enough armor to cloak my identity, I searched for Phlegm and his daughter, fruitlessly, for months. When I eventually gave up on that quest, I found a new goal to strive for. I sought the greatest hemomancers in the land, hoping that I could find one capable of undoing the changes that Phlegm had wrought on me. Everywhere I travelled, I heard that Gerok, former head hemomancer to the Empress herself, was the greatest living practitioner of his craft. It took me several more months after that, but I finally managed to track down your master to the humble port of Verin, where he lived in deliberate semi-anonymity.” Sir Kyr lifted his face to the sky, and the first drop of afternoon rain struck him on his muzzle. “How poetic that the day I find the only man who can help me, he is slain.”
“I’m so sorry for you,” Zaphyr said, reaching out a comforting hand towards Sir Kyr, who brushed her aside gently.
“I don’t want your pity, child,” Sir Kyr said gruffly. “However, I do appreciate your compassion.” It started raining steadily, if only lightly, and they all heard the constant patter of raindrops around them. For the moment, the grove’s coverings kept them mostly dry, although the occasional stray drop did still leak through. Sir Kyr stood up then and, stepping over to the edge of trees, observing idly the curtain of water separating them from the rainstorm beyond. “While you two clearly have raw talent for the craft of hemomancy, you are still far from being capable of performing the healing process that I need. I will still escort you to Melkis as I swore, but I free the two of you from all duties that you promised in return.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Zaphyr said sharply, making Sir Kyr look back at her in surprise. “You just saved our lives from an entire crew of ruthless criminals. We’ll help you, whatever and however long it takes.”
“As overeager as my sister is, she is correct,” Zull said, walking over to where Sir Kyr stood at the edge of the grove. “Nothing you have told us overrules our previous agreement. While, as you have correctly said, our current skill is far from what you need, I swear to you that neither Zaphyr nor myself will rest until we have learned enough of the art of hemomancy to cure you, if possible.”
“Are you sure? This is a great burden for the two of you to take on, greater than you realize,” Sir Kyr asked. “Much of the material related to blood bindings, and especially the creation of abominations, is forbidden by the Empress’ laws. Even researching it for the purposes of undoing the process could have you branded outlaws. You would forfeit your lives.”
“We would have already lost them, if you weren’t there,” Zaphyr said. “It is the very least that we can do for you.”
Sir Kyr nodded slowly. “You have my thanks, children, and while I do so reluctantly, I do accept your proposal.”
“Good,” Zaphyr said, returning to a semblance of her normal cheeriness. “Now, what are we waiting for? The sooner we reach the capital, the sooner we all can get what we wish.”
“We should wait for this storm to pass, unless you wish to catch a fever,” Sir Kyr said wryly. “Don’t worry, it will pass soon; I can smell it in the wind. Then, we will be on our way once more.”
The twins agreed, and the trio waited patiently for the afternoon rainstorm to blow over. As Sir Kyr had predicted, the storm was gone almost as soon as it had arrived, and soft afternoon sunlight filled the air around them once more.
“We have no carriage,” Sir Kyr said as he surveyed the road before them, “So we will have to make our way on foot. That will slow down our progress significantly. It will be three weeks, most likely, before we reach Melkis.”
“True enough,” Zull said. “But, it should also make it that much more difficult for this ‘Master’ to track us, correct? A carriage is a lot easier to see from a distance then a group of travelers on foot. What’s more, we can stay away from the roads, where the Master’s men would most likely be looking for us.”
“All I will say on the matter is that I hope for all our sakes that none of the Master’s agents are good trackers. Still, it cannot be helped.” So saying, Sir Kyr left the grove behind, stepping onto the dirt road and starting down it at a slow, almost casual pace, compared to the hectic stride he had taken before. Zull and Zaphyr were easily able to keep up with him this time, and the three of them walked along together, the entire countryside spread before them. With the passing of the storm, the landscape, seemingly empty of life, was coated in a watery, sparkling sheen. Even the grassy hills and occasional grove of trees shone with a dewy freshness in the sunlight that stood in stark contrast to the glum, thoughtful mood of the trio.
After a long time of walking in silence, Zaphyr spoke up again, asking Sir Kyr, “You don’t think that the Master will continue to pursue us, do you? You…did kill all the Plague Rats, after all.”
“Not all,” Sir Kyr corrected her. “I let one live, to carry my message back to the Master. Regardless, I do think that the Master will continue his hunt for you two. He clearly has the resources and influence to continue the pursuit if he so chooses, based on the evident fear of him that the Plague Rats showed. Additionally, if he showed any wit or intelligence at all - and he seems to possess both - then he would have additional agents already prepared, in the case that the Plague Rats failed. He most likely will see my message to him as a challenge, rather than a warning.”
“If you know all of this, then why bother sending him a message?” Zull asked.
“I know none of this for certain, I merely suspect it,” Sir Kyr replied. “I sent that message on the chance that I was wrong, and the Master is the kind of man who will be intimidated by myself. Instead, what I suspect will happen is that the Master will no longer waste our time with incompetent fools like the Plague Rats, and instead send foes worthy of our mettle.”
“What a cheery thought,” Zull said, a morose grin twitching at the corners of his mouth.
“You may laugh,” Sir Kyr said seriously, “but which would you prefer: the thrill of a genuine challenge, or a massacre?”
“Neither,” Zull retorted. “I don’t want anyone to die. Hemomancers aren’t supposed to harm. We’re supposed to heal.”
“Until we reach the Empress, you will have to cause harm, both of you,” Sir Kyr warned. “I find it distasteful as well, but I cannot protect you two from all threats. At some point, you will shed blood.”
Zull and Zaphyr had no response to that and continued walking on in silence. Their protector trailed slightly behind them, his amber eyes perpetually searching the surrounding wilderness for any sign of other wanderers. Occasionally, his nose twitched as well, but he remained silent and concentrated on his task all the while. Eventually, the road snaked its way up a hill, cresting its top and allowing them to look out over a beautiful valley below. Cradled between two gently rolling chain of hills, the valley was filled almost to the point of overflowing with oak and birch trees. The setting sun behind them illuminated the valley in the glorious colors of late summer, and even Zull had to admit that, for the moment, things seemed good.
“Let’s not waste any more time,” Sir Kyr said as he started the hike down into the valley. “In another day or so, we will reach a village along this road. We will need to stop and buy supplies before we can continue, but for rather obvious reasons, I cannot do so. For the time being, until we can find a blacksmith capable of repairing my armor, whenever we visit a settlement, I will have to stay in the wilderness beyond and reunite with you once you leave.”
“But that doesn’t that leave us vulnerable?” Zull said.
“I can buy some leather and string in town,” Zaphyr suggested. “Then, I can sew a hood for you. That will help at least a little, when passing by further settlements.”
“Perhaps,” Sir Kyr admitted, “that might be for the best.”
Zaphyr beamed, glad that her idea had been met with approval.
“We should set up camp. It will be dark soon,” Zull said, watching the fading beams of light fade illuminate the valley around them.
Sir Kyr grunted his agreement with this idea, and the trio eventually gathered around a fallen log, where Sir Kyr started a fire large enough to keep the three of them warm.
“I learned a lot about surviving in the wilderness while on campaign,” Sir Kyr said, “And while we’re hiding at the fringes of civilization, I will be able to keep us alive. Nevertheless, it won’t be comfortable.”
“We gave up comfort when the Plague Rats burned down Gerok’s house,” Zull said. “You won’t hear complaints from either of us.”
Zaphyr nodded her agreement with that statement as she warmed her hands before the fire.
Sir Kyr stood up and said, “I will be back shortly.”
Zull and Zaphyr stared curiously, but before they could form a question Sir Kyr vanished into the surrounding trees. Soon, they heard in the distance the savage howl of a wolf, and a short while later their protector returned, carrying the carcass of a deer. Zull couldn’t help but notice that the neck of the creature bore a large set of bloody fang marks. Zaphyr for her part simply winced with sympathy for the animal’s fate.
“This should provide all the food we will need for the next couple of days,” Sir Kyr said as he tossed the body of the deer down besides the fire. “Once we skin it, we can barter those skins in villages for the other supplies we will need.”
“I wouldn’t have thought of that,” Zull murmured, staring morbidly at the creature.
“There are a lot of things that you haven’t thought of that you will need to consider in the near future,” Sir Kyr said flatly. “Our journey is only beginning, and things are going to get far more difficult before they grow any easier.” Seeing the dismayed looks on both Zaphyr and Zull’s faces, Sir Kyr said, “I do not mean to dishearten either of you. I am confident that, together, the three of us can overcome whatever challenges this ‘Master’ or anyone else may throw at us. We will deliver your message to the Empress.”
“And cure you,” Zaphyr insisted.
“Yes,” Sir Kyr said as he began skinning the deer with his claws, although his tone said that he only half-believed what he had just said. “Now, both of you, rest. I will have dinner prepared soon, and then we shall need to sleep.”
And so, surrounded by the ever-darkening night and the gentle sounds of the wind and the wilderness, Zull and Zaphyr rested by the fire, watched over by the ever-vigilant amber eyes of their half-human protector, whose claws never stopped methodically skinning his prey.