A long sword with the flat of the blade blacker than his hair was pulled out of my uncle's leather sheath. The gleaming finish brought many memories of times long gone. On his sword, I saw my reflection. Look how wretched I look.
“Uncle…Why-”
“Am I back early? I was saddened. Territory won at the border, I thought of my manor. I thought I would spend some time resting my old bones before coming to Osberg City. Then I hear in gossip that you are to be wed!”
"Sorry, Uncle, I was and... am preoccupied.” My world went blurry, and my legs lost strength. My side hurts with the pain of a thousand stabs. I rest on someone. Small but not frail. Not anymore. Her golden curls float near my face, smelling of berries. Her warmth heated me and I forgot the pain. I forgot the world. Only her face I saw.
“Welcome back,” Vanessa said. Smiling as if holding back tears.
"So... this is the girl you got hitched to.”
“Uncle…”
“Sorry haha. Greetings, Laron Greystone, knight by profession.” My uncle brought up her free hand to kiss.
“Oh! Pleased to finally meet our esteemed guest, Lord Laron. We have been preparing for your anticipated visit for quite some time,” Vanessa smiled cheerfully.
“No, no, no. The pleasure is all mine. What a fair lass! Oh, the many swords I would have sold just to see her in a wedding dress beside you, nephew. Unfortunately, I missed such a splendid occasion due to my forgetful nephew.”
“Can’t send an invite for a wedding not planned.”
My uncle's eyebrows perked up.
“But yes…” I take a good look at my duchess. Her hair was frizzy. Sweat, blood, and dirt covered her from head to her simple, light blue kirtle. “She is beautiful, indeed. She deserves a proper ceremony.” Her freckles turned into my favourite cherries I missed seeing.
A ceremony with the one she truly loves.
“Kids. You’re standing on the corpse of a giant spider. Stop flirting.” The earth quaked with the giant towering. My uncle's blade glowed a faint white. Snowflakes float in a breeze around his sword.
“Tarion, we need to bring you somewhere safe,” Vanessa stressed.
“Stay with me,” Uncle interrupted. Icicles formed around him, turning into segmented swords of ice. “You're safe.” Uncle Loran lifted his sword and swords of ice shot out. As if with their own minds, they weaved through the mass of cursed, piercing spider after spider. Anything coming within fifty metres got shredded into meaty pieces.
Uncle faced me while his ice blades cut. “Tarion, just look at you… “
“I will explain later.” I turned up, looking at the right-eyed beast. “but first-”
My uncle's sword arm flickered, air pulsed outward, and blew our hair wildly. His sword clicked back into his sheath.
“Done. Let's get you treated. The Osberg knights will deal with the rest."
My points working on my healing I straightened in pain, leaving Vanessa’s shoulder. I inhale as much air as possible, “GAMMA, SEARCH THE WRECKAGE FOR CIVILIANS. SEND ANY WOUNDED TO THE CATHEDRAL BY MOUVE. APLHA AND BETA, WORK WITH THE KNIGHTS AND THEIR SOLDIERS. CORDON THE LAST OF THE CURSED, LET NO SPIDER LIVE. UDERSTAND?
I heard a concert of slaps on chests. “YES, YOUR GRACE!!”
“Dismissed.” Buckles and armour clicked and rattled as my men moved to do as I ordered.
“Oh My…” My uncle smiled with assessing eyes. “You have changed in more ways than one.”
“Changed?” I looked up. The imposing beast is a frozen statue split in half.
Seventh Circle is still far away. Is the ninth circle a naive fantasy?
“I haven’t changed enough.”
The noise of the wounded echoed in the Mouve cathedral. I sat on the bench near the priest's pulpit with my doublet and shirt off with Vanessa, tending to me. The screams of the dying tormented me as I tried to stifle mine as Vanessa dabbed alcohol on the holes made by the Humanoid Cursed. Made by the boy. Barely younger than me. And he still had his sentience. The way he moved and fought. He was trained in the use of his strange powers. I killed the only chance at getting answers. I would have to hold back a bit in the future. Take a leg except for a head.
"Argh, be careful there.”
“I am as careful as possible, you big baby.” Vanessa retorted. Being the mayor of this dump has transformed a diminutive girl into a woman of steel. Dealing with people with harsh tongues and even harsher opinions helped with that. Although not as brash and loud as the TAPLM Vanessa, there is a quiet confidence about her. She understood her limits yet her limits to her talent far exceeded those of her peers. I can't wait to see her bloom further.
“You stare too much.” Vanessa stopped torturing me to get wraps.
“Any updates?”
“Mmm…” Vanessa came in close, her breath tickling my chest hairs. Her arm went around me as she wrapped cloth around my body. The fragrance of her hair… I remember the night in the duchess suite, robed in red. My eyes tracing her nape to her sash as she pulls… Vanessa tightened the wraps.
“Ow!”
“Ninety per cent of water fountains have been repaired. We got an influx of recruits for the Osberg guard. And after today, I should be expecting much more. Huh, what else…”
“Farming has resumed. So we should expect produce by spring with no issues. A thousand new armour sets are on the way. But the blacksmiths are a bit… lackadaisical about the time of completion.”
It's been two days...
“Tell them beer is on me for the month,” I interjected
“That might actually work.”
“Of course it will. Their beer bellies are proof of it. Wow, Vanessa! You have been working on a lot- Oh… there's still more, isn't there?”
“Yep. I found some engineers and started working on some designs for a central heating hub. The ball preparations are done other than the finishing touches and the food kitchens...“ Her voice trailed off and her eyes looked away from me to the floor. My hand grazed hers. Her hand quivered, not out of fear but out of anger.
“You were right. I shouldn't have been in the slums. Oh gods… all those people.” She turned back to the injured that lay on the cathedral benches and floors. Many were maimed, and many will take their last breaths. She shook her head, trying not to cry a single tear. Off the bench, she stood.
“I need to help them.” She hurried to follow the doctor and nurses. But before I could reach out to her, a balding priest wearing a cassock and gold stole around his skinny, wrinkly neck walked up to me with a small bottle of clear liquid. His kind smile spread goosebumps on my skin. He bowed, keeping his creepy eye contact.
“Duke! Its a hon-”
I point at the injured. “Heal them.”
“Excuse me?” Still smiling, his eyebrow went inward.
“Your healing water. Tend to them. Now.”
“Your Grace! There is protocol to follow.”
“Did I care about protocol when I killed your benefactor?” I could hear an audible gulp before the priest scuffled away.
Are all your priests this mindful of money?
So, you don’t mind if I find a replacement, do you?
Thanks.
How should I kill him?
I groaned off the bench. Walking through the aisle, on my right, I located my captain. Assisted by an anxious Jen.
I guess she didn't mind the staring.
I saluted him. He jolted, his stone face cracked with surprise and he saluted back. I laughed as Jen hit him for moving too much. Hearing the bottles clink, I saw the baldy, nervously dabbing water on wraps to promote healing. His queasy face struggled as he saw thousands of gold coins drip away. To my left, my big friend talked with other wounded. His eyes found me and we exchanged nods. His eyes tell me all I need to know. I will see him in for morning training tomorrow.
There she was. My nightingale. My eyes were on Vanessa's back. Needling through a girl's injured arm, she hid her sadness with a smile.
All of this. The three gargantuan arachnids, the horde of crawlers. The cursed boy. It's clear. The bugs were a smokescreen, a distraction as the assassin went for his target. For her. Where did they come from? Who do their orders come from?
Who else knows her fate?
Doors burst open wide and fresh, cold wind wafted in the cathedral. In his heavy winter navy blue surcoat, he marched in with 30 knights armoured in shining steel. Their surcoat showcases our house's logo. Metal rubbed and clanked as fifth and sixth circles kneeled on the marble cathedral floor.
“DUKE!” The shout-out of the helms.
"Welcome home, my knights.”
My uncle joined them on the marble, and his frosty sword penetrated the floor.
“Our enemies are no more, Your grace.”
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