.
Path of Exile: Pagan
Chapter 3: Blood and Stone
"I lost my son because of you!"
"You lost your son to that witch! And if you'd bothered to stay at my side, you'd have realized she was still alive!"
"If you hadn't provoked her, this wouldn't have happened!"
"Oh spare me."
Spare you? I'll ram a spear through you, you son of a-
Coloman clenched his fists as he saw Phillip take a waterskin from his belt. Amidst the knights, servants, and men-at-arms running throughout the courtyard, he seemed to be the only man at ease.
"The flames did nothing," the templar rasped, taking a swig of water. "The men-at-arms? Gone or dead. And of my templar brothers, three are dead, another four are wounded. And to top it off, ten families have lost a child to her."
"Eleven," Coloman whispered.
"The townsfolk are in panic, the city watch can only keep them placated for so long, so here's what's going to happen," Philip continued, not pausing in his lecture. "You'll send your men down there to keep the peace. And in the meantime, you'll come with me and my remaining men to bring the heathen to justice.
Coloman snorted. "You failed to take her before. What makes you think this will work?"
"Witches can command the elements if their powers are great enough. But none are powerful enough to resist steel and faith."
She did the first time.
Phillip took another sip of the water. "The fire, Coloman? Turned back on us. She won't have that luxury when we find her. Not with her powers so drained."
The lord of Castle Hefele remained silent. Part of him wanted to bring up his encounter with the woman, how she'd stopped him moving without any effort. The other part didn't care anymore. The part that was consumed with thoughts of Jacob, and the likelihood that he was already dead.
"Well?" Philip asked. "You turned away once. Are you going to do so again?"
"What makes you think I won't take my men and hunt her down myself?" Coloman murmured.
"Because I know your son was taken. Whatever you think of me, I assume you want your boy alive. So trust me when I say that the witch will see an army coming. But you and my men? That's small enough, yet powerful enough. We have faith. And you have a father's conviction. That's something that none of us have."
You're Goddamn right.
Philip took another swig from the waterskin and started to make his way to his horse. In turn, one of Coloman's knights made his way over.
"My lord, for what it's worth-"
"Take your men with you into Strobel," Coloman said, not meeting the knight's gaze. "Keep the peace. Treat the people with respect. Calm their fears."
"My lord, I-"
"I'm going with the templars," Coloman continued, meeting Sir Jonas's gaze. "Likely, Jacob's dead. They may all be dead. Deaths that are on my head. So I won't put them on anyone else's." He placed a hand on the knight's shoulder. "Do you understand?"
Jonas nodded, but given the look in his eyes, Coloman could tell that while he understood, he didn't want to let his lord go by himself. But as he bowed and walked over to the other knights, giving orders, it was what was going to happen anyway.
That left only one thing to take care of.
Turning around, Coloman saw Thiele and Sylvia standing at the keep gate. Thiele had recovered from the blow the witch had inflicted on her, and Sylvia's wound had been treated. Despite all the commotion, Caletria was still asleep. Coloman hoped it would stay that way.
"Father…"
It was Sylvia that spoke first, and her father smiled. He could see that she was trying to sound and look composed, even with her left shoulder and arm exposed in a most unladylike manner. But beyond her cracking voice and the tears in her eyes, he could see otherwise.
"It's alright," Coloman whispered, hugging her while trying to avoid disturbing her wound. "It's alright."
Thiele embraced him as well. "Please," she whispered. "Please…"
Coloman didn't say anything. He knew what the request was. To come back alive. And to bring Jacob with him.
"I'll be back," he said. "I promise."
Thiele nodded. Sylvia used her good arm to wipe away her tears.
"And Jacob too."
It was a promise.
Kissing them both and heading for his mount, Coloman just hoped he could keep it.
Four horses stood tied to trees. Four men made their way from the horses to the cave. Four pairs of eyes saw the light that emanated from it. Phillip held up his hand. The other men stopped.
"She's in there," he said.
"How do you know?"
"God's will."
"Great. I'm sure his will guided you back at the hovel as well."
Phillip glared at Coloman. The knight glared back.
"Follow me," said Philip eventually.
The knight and templars followed. Philip first, followed by his subordinates. And Coloman last.
I'm coming Jacob, Coloman told himself. Yet he moved slowly. He was afraid of what he might find.
Somehow, the templars had tracked the witch down. Philip hadn't bothered to explain how, but one of the templars, Sir Hogan, had explained that some members of the Order were specifically trained to sense and follow the trail of magic, and that Philip had been trained in such arts. Coloman wasn't sure if he believed that, but he was willing to take the templar's word for it.
"Alright, hold up," Philip whispered. He turned to face his men. "This is it."
"As God wills," the other templars intoned, as they clasped their swords.
"Strike hard, strike fast, no mercy," Philip whispered. "May your sword and steel be strong."
"Amen."
Coloman clutched his sword as well. It was this line of thought that had placed them in this mess in the first place, he reflected. But if this fanaticism got his son back, he was willing to work alongside these men.
"Charge!"
Shouting warcries and prayers, the templar charged forward. Coloman followed. Like them, he wore chainmail rather than the full-plate. He wanted manoeuvrability and speed on his side. So he charged with them. He kept up with them. And entering the cave, he came to a stop with them as well.
"Oh my God…"
The words came from Coloman.
There were eleven bodies, all laid out in a row. Six male, five female. All of them children. All of them just lying there. Ten of them had a cut to their neck, the blood trickling down from the ledge they were on into a pool of water beneath them. That was the general structure of the cave – the knights below, the bodies above. All illuminated by a flickering light (likely a fire) at the back of the cave.
"Hello, old friends."
Along with the witch. Sheba.
Coloman grasped his sword with both hands, forming a fighting stance. So did Sir Hogan and Sir Knaus. Philip just walked forward, pointing his sword up to the witch as if challenging her.
"It's over, witch. The Lord's judgement has come."
"Who, Lord Coloman?" she sneered. She flicked her hair back over her shoulder. "How's the family, my lord? I do hope your daughter's wound wasn't too bad."
"Where is my son?!"
"Oh, he's here. I was just about to get to him."
Sheba walked over to the far side of the ledge. To the one body yet to be slaughtered. The body of Coloman's son.
Jacob…
"You should have listened to your cowardice," the witch continued. "This wouldn't have happened then."
"Your words mean nothing," Philip spat.
"Don't they? This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't burnt my house. These children wouldn't have died if I didn't have to repay the spirits for the powers I borrowed." She gestured down to the pool of water, the blood swirling around it. "Blood for blood, life for life."
"Your heresy dooms you."
"And you're dead already," she snarled. "Tell me, templar, how many of your men did I kill? Or wound? Or drove away? I ask because with only two of your lackeys beside you and a lord who should be enjoying his time with his family, you don't seem to have enough."
"There's no fire here for you to manipulate," Philip said. "Only steel."
"I know," Sheba said, holding up her ceremonial knife. "Some of it's mine."
Enough of this, Coloman thought.
The witch grinned, levitating herself into the air. One of her hands glowed blue. The other remained red with blood. Coloman tightened his grip on his sword.
And then all hell broke loose.
A fireball was cast down towards the men. It missed, but then came another. And another. And another.
"Move!" Philip shouted.
There were two pathways up to the ledge on where the bodies rested. Philip took one. Coloman took the other. Hogan and Knaus were ready to follow, but had yet to recover from the near-misses.
The witch flew down to the lower level. Just as the templar and knight reached the upper level.
"Damn!"
Coloman glanced down at the scene below. Hogan and Knaus swung their swords, clearly possessing great skill. But it did no good. Sheba wove in and out of their blows, avoiding them.
Philip rushed down. But not before the witch spread her arms down and outwards, ice surging out from her feet. Freezing the templar in place.
"Dastard! I-"
Knaus stopped talking. He fell down as the ice melted, blood pouring out from his throat where the witch had used her blade.
"Heretic!"
Philip surged forward. So did Hogan. Coloman watched as they pressed their attack, driving the witch to a wall.
Jacob…
He wanted to join them. But he wanted even more to see his son. So he ran over, casting a guilty gaze to the other children, he reached the intended eleventh victim.
"Jacob?" he asked. "Can you hear me?"
His son stirred slightly, but otherwise remained still. A spell, a potion? He didn't know. But he still breathed. So for the knight, there was still hope.
"Just! Die!"
And still a battle to fight.
Coloman watched as the witch stamped a foot on the ground, sending out some kind of wave of energy. Philip was sent sprawling across the cave, while Hogan skidded across the stone but otherwise remained standing.
"Burn…" Sheba whispered.
A fireball came out of her hand, hitting the templar's chest. His tunic ignited. The templar screamed.
"Hogan!"
Coloman ran down the pathway. Templar or not, no-one deserved to be burnt alive. But the witch ran ahead. Hogan, in the midst of trying to get his tunic off, swung his sword at her. She ducked. And impaled the back of his neck with her blade.
"No!"
Coloman kept running. Philip charged at her. She sent a fireball towards the former.
Damn!
Coloman dived to the ground, hitting it just as Hogan's body hit the stone floor as well. Raising his gaze, he watched as Philip again tried to meet her flesh with his blade. The knight stared at the templar, who swung his sword like a man possessed. Maybe he was. But she kept avoiding his blows. She let out another wave of force, using it to send both Philip flying against one of the cave walls, and to send herself flying through the air. Back up to the upper level. Where Jacob was.
"No!"
Coloman charged. The witch landed. Her blade went up. Coloman's blade went forward. It touched her skin.
"Enough."
And it remained in its place. So did its wielder.
No…
Sheba looked down, placing a hand to her chest. After a few seconds, she removed it.
"My blood," she whispered to Coloman, showing her bloody palm to the knight. "My blood, good lord…"
Coloman wanted to speak. To say something. But he couldn't. Not now. Not with the witch's blade just above his son's body. Not as his sword dropped to the ground.
"There will be an eleventh," she whispered. "I used so much power at my home. I owe the spirits. The ceremony will be completed."
She walked over to the knight. Her blue eyes met his grey ones. Her long black hair stood in contrast to his short brown. Her simple village clothing faced off against his armour and tunic, bearing the emblem of his house.
"You wanted to watch me die," she whispered. "You watched me take your son. Now you can watch as I take his life."
She turned back to Jacob. She raised her blade. She-
"No!"
…glanced round.
"Please," the knight whispered. "Not my son."
"Why not?" she snarled. "What makes you think I would listen to you?"
"I-"
"I never did anything wrong. Then you came. You all came. They hated me! But you…you tried to kill me!" she spat. "Do you have any idea what it's like, nearly being burnt alive?!"
"That was the templars' work."
The witch spat in his face. "Your kingdom. Your region. Your responsibility."
"You're right," Coloman said. "So take me."
The witch stared at him.
"One more life…that's all you need," he whispered. "One more to pay back your…spirits?"
"That's one word for them."
"Well, take me." He lowered his head. "I did this. I let it happen. My son didn't. And…" He glanced at the other children. "You've shed enough innocent blood already."
"You started this," she whispered.
"Maybe. But perhaps my death can end it."
The witch stared at him. Jacob stirred. Coloman lowered his head again. He waited for one of two outcomes. His physical death. Or his emotional one.
He didn't get either. He heard a 'thunk' instead.
That was when he found himself able to move. He also found Philip standing beside the witch, a bloody stone in his hand. A bloody stone to match a bloody head.
"It's done," the templar rasped, taking out some irons from his belt. He bound Sheba's hands. "Finally."
Coloman remained silent. Philip met his gaze.
"The witch started this Sir Coloman. Your devotion to your son is commendable. But witches and those in league with the dark arts bring these actions upon themselves. Never forget that."
"And everyone else who died?" the knight whispered, glancing at the bodies of the children and those of Knaus and Hogan. "Is that her fault? Or ours?"
"That's the price we pay in war."
"War. Is that what you call it?"
"I call it what it is."
With that, Philip sat down against the cave wall. He raised a hand to his head, also bleeding from where he'd hit the wall earlier.
"The chains will prevent any magic from being used," he murmured. "She'll be tried. Exiled. Maybe executed." She'll die either way but…well, sometimes one can receive punishment in this world as well."
Coloman remained silent. Partly because he didn't have anything to say. Partly because he heard Jacob stirring.
"Father?"
And waking.
Coloman hobbled over. Jacob rose slightly from the stone surface.
"Where am I?" he whispered. "The witch…I…"
Coloman hugged him. Harder than he ever had before.
"You're safe, Jacob," he whispered, closing his eyes. "You're safe."
A/N
Update (30/11/13): Made adjustments based on external feedback.
Update (10/01/14): As above
