Date: Sat, 1 Sep 2012 07:22:06 -0700 (PDT) From: Robert Subject: Squires of Telisan Keep - 12 Attention Readers - Please donate to Nifty.org to help support and maintain this free service. I have personally donated as I enjoy having access to all the great fantasy material (not just talking about the genre) and also having a place to share the stories that bounce around inside my head without having to censer them for a general audience. I encourage you to donate to Nifty today! Go to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Author's Note: Comments and feedback are appreciated. I have edited and slightly changed some of the first 10 chapters, if you want a copy of the slightly revised first ten chapters send me an email requesting them. I apologize for the long delay between chapters 10 and 11, sometimes real life sucks. While there will be sex in some chapters, I'm a slave to the story and sometimes there will be long stretches where sex isn't the focus. - Robert - robertx5sf@yahoo.com This is a work of fiction. All characters portrayed in this story are fictional and not representative of anyone living or dead. (c) 2012 by robertx5sf@yahoo.com, all rights reserved, may not be reproduced in any form without the author's consent, with exception of the license granted to Nifty.org per Nifty's terms of use. WILRIK Laughter, hate, rage. Wilrik knew the beast was fighting again. He tried to clear his mind, to will himself to disappear into the darkness around him. In the void there was no terror, no horror, no fear, no guilt, no remorse, there was nothing. It was always hardest to disappear into the nothingness when the beast was hurting others. That was when the beast liked to force Wilrik to experience what was happening. Wilrik was struggling to resist the beast when suddenly it was gone. He was overwhelmed for a second as long forgotten physical sensations came flooding back to him. The next thing he knew he was on the floor of a barn. He could feel a dull distant ache in his chest near his left shoulder. "Hoot," sounded an owl that was on a rafter over his head. Wilrik sat up and looked at the owl. It was sitting there staring back down at him. Then it spread its wings and glided towards the barn doors and landed on a rail next to them. It looked back at Wilrik, "hoot." Wilrik stood up and walked to the closed doors. As he put his hands on the door all the memories of what had happened since the orcs had taken him from the barn that night started to come flooding back. He recoiled and as his hands left the door the memories stopped. A familiar voice from the other side of the door called out, "Rynil." It was Mikel's voice, he was outside the barn! Wilrik reached out again for the door but stopped himself before touching it. 'No, I don't want to remember,' he thought as he pulled his hand back. He tried to call out Mikel's name but could not remember how to speak. The owl jumped off the rail and landed on his shoulder and gave a small hoot as if encouraging him. Wilrik struggled to find his voice. Finally mustering his strength he yelled as loud as he could, "Mikel?" Then everything went black again as the void returned. Muffled voices brought Wilrik back around to awareness. He opened his eyes and found that he was once again lying on the floor of the barn. He could hear voices coming from the other side of the door. He strained to listen and could start to make out what was being said. "I have been able to stop the worst of the bleeding for now but as long as that sword remains in him I cannot heal the wound. We have an hour, at most, before he bleeds to death," said a voice. "We cannot remove the sword until the demon hood is removed. The magic of the sword is keeping the demon suppressed," responded a second voice. "Sir Valen, can you remove it without killing the boy?" asked the first voice. "No, but I believe I know someone that can," replied Sir Valen, the owner of the second voice. "Durren?" questioned a third voice. "Yes, if anyone knows how to remove one of these it would be Durren," replied Sir Valen. "Very well, summon him," commanded the third voice. "Brother Barton, I request that you keep what you are about to see in confidence." "Yes my Lord," responded Brother Barton. A moment later he gasped. "Sir Valen?" asked Brother Barton. A new voice spoke, "Greetings Brother Barton. Do not be alarmed. I am Durren. I am a friend and ally of the War Mages. When needed I can visit them, so to speak. Now, let me take a look at the boy." After a minute or so of silence Durren spoke, "I will be able to remove the hood. Physically the boy should be fine if he can survive the sword wound." "Excuse me Master Durren but what exactly is that hood?" asked Brother Barton. "The easiest way to describe it is that it is a vessel for a demon's soul. When it was put on the boy it allowed a demon to possess the lad. The magic of the sword has driven the demon back into the hood and is keeping it suppressed. I will need to use some magic to remove it without killing the boy and in order to do that; I will need the sword removed. As soon as it can the demon will try to retake possession of the boy's body and he will go into convulsions, but I should be able to stop the demon. Lord Velarik, when I start to pull the hood off I will need you to pull the sword out. Brother Barton, when the sword is out you will be able to heal the boy's wound. Does everyone understand what they need to do?" "Yes," the two other men replied in unison. Inside the barn, Wilrik fell to the ground in pain grabbing at his neck. It felt as if someone was peeling off his skin. Then the entire barn started to shake and an ear splitting howl seemed to be coming from all directions. Wilrik writhed on the ground grabbing his head; blood began flowing from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. Around him the barn was on the verge of collapse from the intense shaking. Then an instant later the shaking stopped, the blood and pain were gone and the owl was back, sitting up on one of the rafters. It hooted down at Wilrik and cocked its head. Something was different about the barn. Wilrik could feel it. He got up and looked around. As he turned, he heard a horse whiny as it kicked against its stall. In the back of the barn was a stall that had not been there before and inside it was the largest horse Wilrik had ever seen. It was jet black and had burning red eyes. It had chains around its neck and on each hoof but there was just enough length in the chains that its rear hoofs could reach out and kick the back wall of the barn. Wilrik knew just by looking at it that it was part of the beast made manifest and he was now trapped in here with it. "Brother Barton, can you to see if the boy's mind is damaged? The divine arts are more suited to the ailments of the mind and soul than my powers are," said Durren. A moment later Wilrik could hear the sound of wind buffeting the barn. The door swayed gently then the wind stopped. "Interesting. The boy's mind is fine but his soul is absent. There is some type of barrier though that is inside him. I suspect it is shielding his soul from his own mind. While I was in there I got a brief glimpse of some of the boy's memories. Everything the demon ever did while it possessed the boy is stored in there, everything it saw, everything it felt, everything! I fear it would be better to kill the boy rather than try to take down that barrier. The best we could hope for is madness," said Brother Barton. "And the worst?" asked Lord Velarik. "That the evil in his own mind overwhelms his soul and controls the boy," replied the priest. "Lord Velarik, if the memories of the demon are in the boy then he knows more of our enemy then any of us. I believe I might be able to find someone that can help the boy. I would ask that you turn him over to me. If need be I will have the Council of Mages formally make the request of the King but I would prefer not to wait that long," said Durren. "I will give you my answer tomorrow Durren. First I would speak with my councilors and learn more about what has happened here today," answered Lord Velarik. "Very well. Sir Valen can summon me when you have made your decision," said Durren. "Brother Barton, how is Sir Luken?" asked Lord Velarik. "He will live. His burns were severe and he will be disfigured, but he will be fully recovered otherwise in a couple of months," said the priest. "That is good to hear. I would like you to join us back at the castle. While you cannot mention the details of Durren's presence here, I would like your thoughts on this matter when I meet with my council," said Lord Velarik. "Yes my Lord," replied the priest. "Sir Valen, are you back with us?" asked Lord Velarik. "I am, my Lord," replied Sir Valen. "Good day Brother Barton, I will send word for you when the council is to meet," said Lord Velarik. There was silence for a while and Wilrik guessed that the men had all left. He turned to look for the owl but could not see it anywhere in the barn. The horse kicked and pulled against its chains. Wilrik went to the farthest corner of the barn from the horse's stall and laid down, curling up into a ball. *** MIKEL After Sir Valen left, a silence briefly fell over the remaining members of the search party. That was until Mekrin came out of his initial shock and started screaming in pain. Brother Yoris finished his prayers over Sir Alek's corpse and then started tending to the wounded squire. Mikel was still shaking slightly from the rush of combat. He looked down and noticed blood on his hands and legs. He checked himself and realized it was blood from the bandit he had stabbed in the stomach. He looked over and saw the young man lying a few feet away, dead. After a few moments of staring back and forth between the man he killed and the dagger in his hand he realized that his Master had shown up briefly and teleported away with Sir Luken and the demon headed boy with Wilrik's voice. Sir Alek was dead as well as another bandit that Rynil had killed. Mikel looked over at noticed Rynil was sitting on the ground crying. The squire had blood on him as well. Mikel went over and sat down next to his friend. "Rynil are you hurt?" he asked. "This is all my fault. Sir Alred tried to warn me but I did't listen. Alek...Alek's dead because of me," cried Rynil. "No Rynil, it's not your fault, you saved us. You were able to hurt that...whatever it was. Without you it would have killed us all," said Mikel trying to comfort Rynil. But, Rynil wasn't listening, he dropped his head and continued to cry. "What are you crying for you bastard, you're not the one that took an arrow to the knee," growled Mekrin. "I am going to be a cripple now and you are right, it is your fault!" Mikel saw Brother Yoris holding a hand over Mekrin's wounded knee and concentrating. Out of habit Mikel shifted his sight and watched as soft golden energy flowed out of the priest's hand and poured into the wound healing it. "You will not be a cripple. It is likely you will have a limp but you will be able to walk and ride," said Brother Yoris as he stood up. "Mikel, can you bring up the horses." Mikel's heart was aching as he looked at Rynil and knew there wasn't anything he could do right now to help him. Brother Yoris had to ask him again to go get the horses before he tore himself away from Rynil's side. "Sorry, I'll go get them." It took a few minutes for Mikel to make his way back down the small trail to where they had left the horses on the road. While he was gathering them up and leading them up the hill he was thinking about what he had just seen and heard. It had been over two years since he last seen Wilrik but he was sure that had been Wilrik's voice that called out from behind the demon head after Rynil had stabbed it with the sword. Mikel had so many questions but, there was no one around to answer them. His Master had teleported back to the castle without giving him a chance to ask any questions about what had just happened. Perhaps Brother Yoris would have some answers. Brother Yoris was not there when he got back up the hill. "Rynil, where's Brother Yoris?" he asked. Rynil just continued to sit there as if he did not hear Mikel. "He went to find the demon's camp. It is just up the path, that way," answered Mekrin pointing up the hill towards some rocks. Just then Brother Yoris came around the rock outcropping carrying a sword case and leading four horses. "Thank you Mikel. I think it would be best if we start heading back to the castle rather than wait here. I need you boys to get Sir Alek's armor off so we can put him over a horse and bring his body back. I am sure the Lord will see that he gets a proper funeral to honor his valiant sacrifice." Mekrin and Mikel responded immediately but Rynil just turned at stared at Sir Alek's corpse. Part of Mikel wanted to just run over and hold Rynil and try to help ease his pain but, Mikel was having enough problems dealing with his own emotions. Instead he did as Brother Yoris requested while Brother Yoris went over and spoke quietly to Rynil. Mikel almost vomited when he got over to Sir Alek's body and saw the dead knight up close. The young knight was lying on his back and had a crossbow bolt sticking out of his bloody face. The bandits had taken them by surprise and the crossbow bolt had struck him before he had a chance to lower the visor on his helmet. Mikel followed Mekrin's lead and they were soon able to get Sir Alek's plate armor off and packed into the saddle bags that had been used to carry Sir Luken's armor. Then Brother Yoris removed the bolt and with the help of the two squires laid Sir Alek's body over the saddle on his horse and tied him down. Then they collected the rest of the gear and set off back to the castle. They had just reach the part of the road where it came down off the southern slope of the valley and flattened out when they saw the half dozen knights accompanied by their squires that had been dispatched from the castle. The party was lead by Sir Galreth, the Lord's Champion. He spoke briefly with Brother Yoris, then he and four of the knights continued up the road to make sure there were no more bandits in the area while the other knight and all the squires escorted the group back to the castle. Mikel glanced over at Rynil several times during the ride to see how he was doing. Rynil had stopped crying and was staring blankly at the road as they made their way to the keep. When they rode into the keep Sir Balren, the Chamberlain, and his Master were waiting in the courtyard. Sir Balren was the first to speak, "Brother Yoris and Squire Rynil, you will accompany us to speak with Lord Velarik. Squire Mekrin please take Sir Alek to the Temple of the Warrior so they may start preparing the funeral rites." Sir Valen motioned for Mikel to come over to him. Mikel, Brother Yoris, and Rynil all dismounted and a couple of the squires rode over and grabbed the leads from their horses and took them away towards the stables. As Brother Yoris and Rynil followed Sir Balren into the keep, Sir Valen put his hand on Mikel's shoulder, "I know you must have a lot of questions but they will have to wait for now. Hopefully, some of them will be answered later this evening but, for now I want you to return to the tower. You have had an eventful day. Eat something, take a bath, and try to get some rest. I will come see you after I am done with Lord Velarik's council meeting." With that he turned and entered the keep. Mikel headed back to his rooms in the tower filled with concern for Rynil and also a mixture of concern and guilt about Wilrik.