Dawn broke out over Leoris. The dew frosted the blades of grass scattered about town. The mist was especially light letting the sun bathe a mostly empty townscape. There were few shops opened and scarcely any citizens out and about. All the typically busy cafes were either vacant or bereft of customers.
Keoma walked through the courtyard towards the hospital entrance with each step crunching the field lightly beneath his boots. He carried with him several cloth sacks with a light steam emitting from them. Ingrid trailed behind him, exhaustion etched on her gaunt face. Since this was her first unofficial day as the archivist of Leoris, she had swung by her apartment early in the morning to place her hair up in a bun and dress herself in a long-sleeved blouse that buttoned at a collar around her neck. Stokely arrived next, dragging a large coffer after him.
The staff greeted them and pointed them towards a conference room off to the side. They entered and found Walstaff and Hobe sitting at a round wooden table. Both were still in light tan hospital robes with their bandages recently changed.
Walstaff inquired, “I had no response from Diapson or the clergy. He is normally just a buffer vote for whatever Amise or Vilsin are trying to pass anyway.”
Keoma sat down the sacks and unfolded them, showing up slabs of freshly cooked bacon and baked sweet cakes. “I figured you would appreciate this more than the gruel Hobe seems to think nourishes the ill and dying,” Keoma said wryly. Even though Hobe was already through a couple hunks of bacon, he retorted something about balanced nutrition. Ingrid was content nibbling at the baked sweets.
Walstaff graciously spoke between bites, and licking clean his fingers. “I reckon from the sound of things this might be a half decent last meal. Hobe has told me almost everything. It seems our travelers are quite the troublesome folk. Can’t say it would be any better if their presence was missing. And Cherry did save my ass.”
Ingrid gave a conservative nod. “And I guess Demalyn stepped in to keep what used to be Amise from killing me.”
“Yes, I hope all five of us can agree they didn’t show up here to worsen the situation. Even if mythical monsters, nightmares, or gods haunt them. It is the age of descendants. They are always times to remember and to expect the unexpected,” Keoma said in agreement.
Hobe scoffed, “I didn’t ask to live this long, but now that I’m here, I guess we will have to make the most of it. With the hub on the blink, it was difficult to make out the scrabble in your missive. But we deciphered it. I examined the body of Amise this morning. Same as with the other abominations. She was already dead when the traveler put her down. Although Amise looked like a falling building had smashed her.”
“Whatever she is, Demalyn isn’t human. I saw it with my own eyes. I’ve never seen such ferocity.” Ingrid shuddered while remembering the events of the prior night.
“These travelers aren’t normal. An awakened, some beast of a woman, and the eleventh warden of the Farland. What is the feeling you get from him?” Hobe queried.
Ingrid addressed the table with a cold and straight demeanor. “Initially, I found the mystery hidden under his bravado and confidence appealing. Knowing what I know now about him, I can’t say I trust him. The Wardens fought against Dakken, slew descendants, and openly challenged the Oldest. I perceive something dangerous in him. As far as I know, you would agree, Keoma.”
Keoma crossed his arms. “He is definitely a disciple of Jonah. There is something strange with him. He is out of his mind, but there may very well be a justifiable reason for him to be so odd. He is capable for sure. The only warden that wasn’t a descendant.”
Stolen novel; please report.
“I fought him firsthand. The way he moves, the balance of his footwork, the angles of his attacks, and his tactical prowess are brilliant. It suggests someone trained him specifically to fight monsters.” Stokely added.
Keoma pulled his hands from his robe sleeves and sat forward. “I heard the story when the conflict with Dakken began. Jonah felt the descendants lacked discipline and that their natural born abilities served to spoil them. So he made his first adopted son his finest student. He groomed him to engage descendants as a human being. As he gathered the descendants, he had Desdin instruct them. Desdin, at his peak, could make any untrained descendant struggle to keep up with him. That is how terrifyingly proficient he was in the rumors.”
Ingrid emotionlessly said what came naturally to her. “But he is human. The slightest mistake and he is another casualty. We shouldn’t place all our hopes on him.”
Keoma eased back in his chair and lifted his index finger. “But he is an asset to us. He has experience with the Fallen and she, the spider, recognizes him as a risk. He may be our sharpest sword against it. But the other two, judging from what I know, are at least as powerful as a descendant. We need the three of them to act together if we are to withstand what is coming. So I’m going to require your cooperation in getting the message to the two that are under lock and key at the lodge.”
Ingrid picked at her cake and Hobe sat back, lost in thought for a minute, while Walstaff said, “That Vilsin, when I saw him yesterday, he wasn’t right. He has since shut down the lodge. And is only corresponding with his hunters. From what I can tell, he has even ostracized the ones that have ties to the forge.”
Hobe said, “He took one of our patients and our traveling doctor went with them. I could feign concern to get in to check on them.”
“The patient is dead,” Stokely said solemnly. “But the drifter doctor is alive. I will assist with getting us inside.”
“From the intel we have, that may be risky. The spider can see through disingenuous and straightforward tactics. But if that is the best we can come up with, then I’ll have some of my men come along,” said Keoma.
“I may have something meaningful to add to that. We had more hunters to defect to our side this morning. From what I understand, the woman that was at the lodge left with many of them in the direction of the observatory and has yet to return.” Stokely chimed in.
Walstaff raised a hand and asked, “On that note, what if we used a similar strategy to the spider? She has kept the travelers and us separated and taking care of different emergencies at once. So, what if we create many scenarios that require urgent attention to break up their focus and allow for Hobe to get to Cherry and Demalyn?”
Keoma laughed heartily. “And here I thought the two of you would add little to this meeting.” Looking over at the assembly, Keoma scratched his chin. “Ingrid, I need you and Stokely to entice a significant number of the hunters still loyal to Vilsin to go check out the archives and lock the doors behind them. Walstaff will prepare a broadcast to the town about moving up the funeral ceremony. Afterwards, we will rendezvous at the forge before splitting up. Let’s shake this bitch’s web from all angles and see how well she adapts.”
Hobe grunted. “It is a good plan. Quick and decisive. We will have our last battle at the conservatory then.”
“I’ve also brought gifts.” Keoma snapped his fingers, and several of his followers came through the door with wrapped leathers and chests. Stokely also kicked open the chest he had. “We don’t know when things will turn bad, so my forge made these for us last night.”
The attendants brought each council member their own sets of ring mail and a hard leather body adorned in furs. When they unwrapped the bound leather, each member of the council had the gift of a new weapon. Ingrid, glided her fingers across the scabbard of a new dagger and a thin long-sword. Walstaff pulled a long sword from a cane made for him. And Hobe, spun a smaller battle axe deftly with his hand. Stokely patted a miniature cannon in his chest. The attendants then presented wood handled chrism pistols.
Walstaff then asked Keoma, “Where is yours?”
Keoma flexed his muscles and patted his arms. “Mine is right here, and back at the forge. Wear the mail underneath the armor. The weapons are the finest I could muster on short notice. The pistols have enough chrism for at least five shots. As Walstaff knows, you will need to hit a vital spot for it to be effective if your target isn’t human. We need to disperse so the spider can’t sense us grouping up.”
They all looked around at each other nervously, but with confidence, no one objected to the strategy. Walstaff ended the meeting by saying, “This is for Leoris my friends.”