Chapter 24

The man towered over Valkron, his dark hood looking down on the knight. Valkron, however, did not feel afraid of the apparition before him. The small voice in his head was calmly telling him that the person in front of him was posing no danger to him. There was nothing to fear.

'I have yearned to meet you, Valkron,' he said softly. 'For so long I have watched over this world, letting my passion for blood seek out someone fit for the position. And now I have found the right man for the job, it seems.'

Valkron looked coolly up at Argath. 'I'm not interested in anything you offer me, Argath. There isn't any attraction in your so-called gift.'

As the wings chirped at this, the Blood Judge chuckled mirthlessly. 'Oh, yes. I knew you would say that. But do you know that of all your friends here you are, indeed, the darkest, angriest one of them all? And yet you claim yourself to be a warrior of the world? They are of purest mind and heart, and you corrupt their name with your own assumptions?'

'I believe in my own rules, Argath, and no one else's. Like our resident priest said, "I may be a priest but I ain't all angelic and do-gooder".'

'How wonderful friendship is,' said Argath. 'And yet you still don't trust anyone, least of all yourself. Why don't you practise what you preach, Valkron?'

'I don't preach,' replied the knight. 'I instruct.'

Argath's laughter echoed through the streets. Valkron winced as the grating sound reverberated in his eardrums, but he stayed where he was. He could not show any weakness for Argath to penetrate.

'That is exactly why we need you on the throne, Valkron. You have an excellent sense of what is right and what is wrong. Therefore if we carry out our plans you will become one of the best emperors the New Empire would have ever had!'

Valkron nearly spluttered with anger. 'Excuse me? The New Empire? Whatever for? This world doesn't need an empire any longer!'

'That is what you believe, Valkron,' said Argath. His gloved hands went to his hood and he wrapped his fingers around the hem. 'But after this...is it what you truly believe?'

He lowered his hood.

The first floor of the inn was in silence, only broken by gentle snoring. It was completely dark and such light that was entering the floor was very dim.

If anyone had cared to peek into the rooms they would have seen the members of the Raulus party in various positions in their beds. In the silence only their deep breathing could be heard, as well as an occasional snore. Sometimes someone would shift, sometimes someone would twitch and mutter.

For some reason Emeth's eyes opened suddenly, as if he had been abruptly awoken. He blinked several times at the cobwebbed ceiling in confusion before remembering where he was. He sat up and massaged his head before he looked around at the dusty room.

After a few minutes he swung his legs free of the blankets and off the bed, and slipped his feet into his shoes. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong but he didn't exactly know what it was. Other than his breath fogging up his vision, that was.

Slipping his cloak on and wrapping it around him to keep out the cold, he walked downstairs, his shoes tapping quietly on the wood. He tried not to touch the railing as much as he could as it was grimy and it creaked. It would not do to make a sound in the inn.

It was even colder on the ground floor. Emeth shivered unconsciously and looked about him. The light from the ghastly spell above dimly illuminated the city, but for some reason the shadows that lay across the floor were dappled. There was also a very unpleasant feeling lingering in the air, he thought. It was the kind of feeling that did not forbode well in his mind.

He crept to the window and peered out of it. There were black-purple moth-like shadows on the windows, occasionally waving a wing or two. It was these that made him back off in disgust. They gave off a stench of dark magic that he was not comfortable with.

But deep inside him he felt something lift its muzzle and enjoy the dark magic in the air. He felt his fingers twitch and forced himself to stay calm. It would not do good for him to lose control now.

After a moment's thinking he quietly went upstairs and nudged Iruna.

'Wfrgl...hmm?' She sat up sleepily. 'What-- oh, it's you, Emeth.'

'Get dressed and come down,' whispered the wizard urgently. 'You've got the holy power with you. I think we need it.'

'Oh, why me? Samaroh is by far more practised with the holy power,' said Iruna, raising an eyebrow.

'Because you behave better than him and seriously I think the situation also needs someone who can kill pretty fast. I know you don't kill unless it's necessary,' he added hastily, seeing Iruna's expression, 'but it would help.'

'Oh, very well. Get out of my room and let me change.'

It was amazing she could dress quite quickly, except that it was without her armour. She only strapped on her gauntlets and her belt, and made sure her two-handed sword was in place before taking her great shield with her. They made their way down to the ground floor and went over to the window that Emeth had peered through.

The first thing Iruna did was to back off. She waved her hand in front of her face as if an offending smell had suddenly materialised in the room. 'Ugh, this is awful.'

'I know,' agreed Emeth. 'The dark magic really stinks, doesn't it?'

'I wonder how practitioners of the dark arts can really stand the smell.' Iruna held her arm to her nose and moved forward, not making any sound with her soft leather moccasins. 'What is going out there?'

'I don't know, but I couldn't stand the smell either so I didn't get to see it properly,' said the wizard, watching her peer out into the city. 'And what are those things on the window? Do they even exist?'

'Yes,' said Iruna, her voice half-muffled by her sleeve. 'Darkwings. They follow a dark entity like gulls follow a fishing trawler, to feed off the dark magic emitting into the atmosphere. I'm not too sure what else they do, but the stench is appalling and it can send off even the most trained wizard, sage or priest into a faint.'

'It certainly is for me,' muttered Emeth.

'Something very dark is out there,' she said, tilting her head to one side. 'I can't really see-- oh my , is that Valkron?'

'What?' said Emeth. Forgetting about the smell, he scrambled up to the window.

They saw Valkron sitting with his back to his peco, covered by one wing and looking up. Iruna looked at what he was looking at and barely stifled a gasp. There was a hooded, cloaked figure standing before him.

Just at that moment Emeth managed to stifle a retch. 'Tyr's beard,' he said, 'who in the world is that? The dark magic pouring off him is ghastly.'

'I have no idea,' replied Iruna, 'but he doesn't seem to be human. Or alive, as a matter of fact.'

'Then what the hell is he doing here?'

'Hush, he's talking.'

The man was just asking, 'They are of purest mind and heart, and you corrupt their name with your own assumptions?' when they managed to catch what he was saying. Valkron answered softly so they did not hear what he said, but the figure followed up his question with, 'How wonderful friendship is. 'And yet you still don't trust anyone, least of all yourself. Why don't you practise what you preach, Valkron?'

'I don't preach,' replied Valkron impassively. 'I instruct.'

The laughter that rang through the streets made Emeth and Iruna wince. It was a terrible sound, like someone running fingernails on a board. The crusader shuddered while the wizard ran his fingers across his teeth to get rid of the horrible sensation.

'That is exactly why we need you on the throne, Valkron. You have an excellent sense of what is right and what is wrong. Therefore if we carry out our plans you will become one of the best emperors the New Empire would have ever had!'

They could hear Valkron's anger in the words he said. 'Excuse me? The New Empire? Whatever for? This world doesn't need an empire any longer!'

'That is what you believe, Valkron,' said the figure, his hands going up to his hood. 'But after this...is it what you truly believe?'

He threw back his hood.

Emeth choked and reeled back, covering his mouth and nose. Iruna almost retched but checked herself in time and whispered a hasty prayer, gripping the cross around her neck so tightly her knuckles showed had gone white.

Outside there Valkron was no exception. His resoluteness had broken. When the two of them recovered and looked out of the window he had his head turned away from the figure and had buried his face in his hands. The man standing in front of him was clearly gloating at the knight's reaction, as if it was what he had wanted all along.

'Wait a minute,' whispered Emeth, a little muffled because his hand was covering his nose and mouth. 'I know him. By description, not by acquaintance.'

'Wha-- Who is he?' whispered back Iruna, sinking below the windowsill so that no one would see them.

'I'm not too sure if I'm right or not, but I do think...it's someone called the Blood Judge.'

'And who is that?'

Emeth gave her a look. 'I thought everyone knew this. Blood Judge of the Old Empire? Right-hand man of the Emperor?'

'Oh, him. I thought he was dead.'

'It's a really long story and it'll take most of the night to tell it. This isn't a night to start telling it, really...' Emeth's voice faltered and then came back. '...but you'll get to know it, one day. Right now I think-- what the hell is that sound?'

It was the sound of chuckling, to be precise, but the sound was so unlike chuckling that it took them a few minutes to realise what was going on. They peered out to see the Blood Judge leaning down to look at Valkron, who appeared to be shaking violently.

'How does it feel, Valkron?' he said, his tone gleeful. 'How does it feel to look into the depths of your own heart and see what you really fear? Those things you saw, Valkron, is the darkness of your heart, the things you don't dare face because you can't accept the person you are. With all your attempts to see through other people, you fail to pay to attention to yourself. Interesting how humans destroy their lives without even realising it, don't you think?'

The Blood Judge straightened up. Now the two of them could see the long hair that hung to his shoulders. Dark liquid was flowing along the strands and dripping off the ends.

'Now you know how the darkness looks like,' he said smugly. 'The question is...will you embrace it and accept that you are indeed the one for the throne, or will you deny it - and die a slow death from your own wounds?'

Valkron was clearly not in good shape, but he was making the effort to keep his mind. His voice was strained 'I will not...fall prey...to my own desires...'

For a moment the Blood Judge seemed surprise and then he shifted slightly. When he spoke next his voice was cold and gloating. 'Very well. I can see you have decided your own fate. Your decision is your own undoing...so don't blame me for anything, hm?'

Whatever happened next was too fast. The Blood Judge drew a mighty black sword from his belt and plunged it into Valkron's leg. The knight cried out in pain. Emeth and Iruna watched in horror as black energy edged with violet streamed out from the wound.

The man sank the blade even deeper into the knight's flesh. At this Emeth got to his feet swearing in an undertone about torture, but Iruna forced him back down. They struggled against each other.

'What in the world are you thinking, Emeth?' hissed Iruna. 'You don't want to let him see you!'

'I'm not going to allow Valkron to suffer more than we do!' replied Emeth, his eyes glowing. 'He doesn't deserve it! He may be a reckless, selfish middle-aged fool but there's no such bloody law in this world that says a man has to go through what he can't bear!'

'Oh, really? Tell me where it's written then!' Iruna pushed him down. 'Now stay down! Valkron doesn't need more attention from that bloody judge, and neither do you! Do you want to die?'

'I don't give a damn!'

'Even if you don't I do!'

Emeth winced. Iruna's whispered shout was like a needle jabbing home.

There was a soft sound outside. The two of them froze and listened, barely daring to breathe. Iruna peered over the windowsill a minute later and Emeth followed her rather hesitantly.

The Blood Judge had put his hood up again. He reached out and pulled the sword out of Valkron's leg. Blood splattered everywhere, and Valkron - already far in pain - cried out for a second time. The man laughed mirthlessly at the knight's suffering before turning on his heel, his cloak swirling around like the edge of darkness. His boots clopped away, growing fainter and fainter. The darkwings took off in a flurry of wings, eager to feed off the dark magic that radiated off the Blood Judge.

Soon the city was empty again. Iruna finally released her grip on Emeth, and both of them ran out of the inn. Valkron was still gripping his leg, his eyes tightly shut.

The knight had no idea what was happening to him. After he had looked into Argath's eyes something dark and terrible had risen inside him, and he remembered every single thing that had happened in his life. He had locked away plenty of memories, things that he did not want to remember, but they came to the surface with the surge of everything he had pressured down for more than half his life. They ate away at everything he had now.

At one point his eyes had opened wide. He had felt something take over his vision, turning colour into black and white. And deep inside him, a murderous taste for blood awoke and rose...

Emeth knelt beside the knight. He was gasping.

'Valkron! Come on, man, you can hear me!' The wizard reached out and grabbed the knight by the shoulders, but Iruna knocked off his hands. As he stared up at the crusader she went down on one knee and clasped the cross she wore around her neck. She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer.

The darkness within Valkron howled and screamed. A horrible buzzing noise rang in his ears as white light attempted to penetrate the dark shield around him. Light and shadow met and struggled with each other, battling for control inside Valkron. And with every blow they dealt at each other, pain surged through him, until he was positively writhing.

Emeth watched this in growing horror until he could not take it any longer. He reached forward and grabbed the knight by his shoulders. 'Stop it, Iruna! You're killing him! I said stop it!'

Iruna stopped, mainly out of shock. Valkron calmed down, still with his eyes closed, but it was not over. As he relaxed he suddenly opened his eyes. Emeth jerked backwards and Iruna gasped at the sight of his eyes.

The deep green was now with swirling black clouds.

The knight reached out, as if there was something in front of him that only he could see, his eyes staring blankly at nothing. His fingers strained as if to grab whatever it was. For one breathless moment that was how he was poised, and then he went limp. Iruna caught him as he slid down and lifted his head.

'Oh damn...is he all right?' said Emeth, suddenly fearful.

'I don't know,' whispered Iruna, her breath turning into mist as her shaking voice echoed in the night air. She cradled Valkron's head in her arms. 'He's barely breathing, and he feels so cold.'

'I'm going to get Samaroh,' said Emeth, getting to his feet. Iruna heard his running footsteps fade into the inn, but she hardly cared. The knight in her arms was not responding. He was pale and looked almost lifeless, and although he was wearing all his thick clothes he was cold to the touch.

The crusader held him close to her, trying to keep him warm. At the same time she could not help remembering something she had never wanted to remember again. In the darkness of the night a tear slid down her cheek as she gazed unseeingly at the silent buildings.

'Vanodar...' she whispered.

Samaroh had not been happy to be aroused from his sleep, but when he was told what had happened he set to work immediately. Iruna had brought Valkron up to an empty, much more sheltered room and unstrapped his armour. Then the priest had bustled in and shooed her out.

Emeth and Iruna waited anxiously outside the door. Samaroh seemed to be doing quite a lot. Occasionally there was a slosh of water, but more often white light would shine from under the door. Emeth tried listening through the keyhole, and found that Samaroh was almost ceaselessly muttering under his breath.

The wizard was also not too sure if Iruna was all right. She did not move from her position all the time as they waited, preferring instead to gaze unseeingly at the door. He hesitated for some time, and then gave up.

'You okay, Iruna?' he said. 'You've been staring at the same spot for quite some time. What's so interesting about a piece of dusty wood?'

Iruna kept silent for a while. Then, when Emeth had resigned himself to not getting an answer, she said, 'I was just thinking.'

'You know anything about this?' he said, jerking a thumb at the door.

'No, not that. I was thinking about...something else.'

Emeth raised an eyebrow. Talking to women was a usual thing for him, especially explaining to them that he was not eligible for marriage at the moment, but this was a different case. He knew sufficient women to understand that they were almost unpredictable at times.

'I had a brother,' said Iruna, speaking slowly as if she was thinking of every word. 'He looked like Valkron, except he had brown hair and grey eyes. My mother had him when I was two years old.'

The wizard blinked, but said nothing.

'Our parents died when we were still pretty young, but we were brought up by relatives. Everything was okay, not too bad.'

'I imagine your brother was a lot nicer than Valkron,' said Emeth.

'Yeah, he's completely the opposite of Valkron. But our parents' deaths left something on him. I'm still not clear what it was, but sometimes he would get really depressed or angry for no particular reason. He would apologise after that, but it was during those times I would be scared of him.

'Soon after my entry into the Order of Juno I met a blacksmith. He was nice to my brother and me, and later on he proposed marriage. I refused because I still wanted to take care of my brother, and I had my job to see to. That was when the blacksmith turned really ugly and showed his true colours.

'He ruined my job by setting me up, saying I was going against the Order and denouncing them as atheists and hypocrites. I was getting a good pay to help my brother and I get along, but then I lost it. My brother went into one of his angry moods and challenged the blacksmith.'

'Ouch,' said Emeth.

'The blacksmith swore to have a fair fight, because that was what you do when you battle with a knight or a crusader. But then he cheated and distracted my brother with all the things I had told him about our lives, driving him mad. Then when my brother was losing himself...' and here Iruna's voice broke.

Emeth reached out and grasped her shoulder. She was not wearing much of her massive armour.

Iruna was clearly stricken with grief, but she made an effort to continue. 'The blacksmith killed him. I lost my trust in men that day. Eni and Nocturne remind me of the happier days when my brother was alive, but that's it. Valkron reminds me of him too, but the other side of him. That's why I don't talk to him much.'

'I think Valkron would like it if you talked to him more,' said the wizard.

'Why?'

He shrugged. 'I don't know if it's true, but Valkron likes people to challenge his views. It seems to give him a bit of thinking to do, and it keeps him alert. You keep challenging him, in a way.'

'Well, I'm not. He's the leader. He can do whatever he thinks is right.'

'There you go. You're still challenging him, whatever you say. There's a question right there, a question he won't hesitate to ask himself. Does he really deserved being the leader? Does what he think count as "right"? I bet he'll think that way.'

'What makes you think so?'

'He's that kind of person.'

At that point the door opened and Samaroh emerged, rolling out his sleeves and smoothing the creases out of the cloth. The two of them looked up at him.

'How's he?' said Emeth, letting go of Iruna's shoulder.

The priest did not seem too keen on answering. He pointedly arranged his pack before he said anything. 'He'll be fine.'

There was something in the way Samaroh had answered, even then. 'What do you mean, Samaroh?'

'He'll recover.'

'What is it you're not telling us, Samaroh? Say it or I'll blast you,' warned Emeth.

The priest gave Emeth a withering look before replying. 'Well, if you could go and look at his leg before I come back with my book on curses you'll know what I'm not telling you. Now, excuse me.' He pushed past Emeth and disappeared around the corner.

The wizard swore, but Iruna had no time to be angry. She hurried into the room.

Valkron looked pale even in the darkness of the room. She was struck by how tired he looked and she was gentle as she touched him. He did not move.

Emeth came in behind her as she pushed the blanket aside and hesitantly pulled up Valkron's trouser leg to reveal a very neatly bandaged wound. But blood was already staining the white cloth, and all around the bandage was a great mark twisting and turning in serpentine curves and cruel claw-like hands. Above all, it was growing.

As they stared at it in horror Samaroh returned. He joined them and looked down at it.

'Bad, isn't it?' he said. 'Move aside. I'll have to deal with this the priest way, although I don't normally like exorcising.'

'It's your job,' said Emeth, holding up his hands and wandering off.

The priest ignored him and made the sign of a cross, touching his shoulders, chest and forehead with his eyes closed. He briefly grasped the cross hanging from his neck and then held the tome he normally carried flat in his palm. He placed his other hand on the cover, whispering, still with his eyes closed. Then he placed his hand over the wound.

White light gathered in little specks around the priest, before coming together between Samaroh's palm and Valkron's leg. As they gathered the specks converged into a ball of light. Samaroh was frowning in concentration, still holding his book in one hand.

When the light was at blinding point there was a flash and a soft [iwhoosh[/i. The light vanished.

Samaroh opened his eyes. To their disappointment - and to the priest's astonishment - the mark had not disappeared. It was still growing slowly, as if mocking his ineptitude.

'Looks like I'll have to do something stronger this time,' said the priest, opening his book and flipping through it. 'There's got to be something about this in here...'

'Hey, you're a priest, right?' said Emeth. 'Why don't you know your spells?'

'For one thing, I don't exorcise,' snapped Samaroh. 'I am a healer. Is that clear? Secondly these spells are so rarely used that no one ever bothers memorising them. This is just a rare occasion I have to do this, all right?'

'Then what's this I hear about the rewriting of the Magnus Exorcismus spell?' said Iruna.

Samaroh glared at her. She looked innocently back.

'It's nothing,' he said eventually. 'Even though the bishops thought that a stronger version of Magnus Exorcismus would help there would be absolutely no chance of it being used. There would be no occasion to use it. Besides, the Ultima Magna Exorcisma is far too powerful for us lower priests to use.'

'You priests are so practical,' said Emeth under his breath. Samaroh pretended not to have heard him, but placed his hand on the cover of his book again and closed his eyes. This time the gilded lines on the cover of the book glowed momentarily.

After a minute of muttering he opened his eyes and made the sign of a cross with his finger, light trailing from the tip. When a small cross made of white light was hovering in midair in front of him, he touched the centre of the cross and pushed it down to the pulsing, growing mark. Then he made another one in midair. This time he chanted for quite some time before touching lightly in the centre, where a red dot appeared.

Still holding down the first cross he pushed the other down until it was hovering above the first cross. He swiftly took his hand away and shoved the second cross down onto the first. White light flashed.

When the brightness had cleared away Samaroh groaned and covered his eyes with one hand. Emeth and Iruna could see why. Nothing had happened to it.

'Maybe you should stop and rest,' said Iruna.

'No, thank you. As a human being I should know when to stop. Stopping now, for your information, is equivalent to giving up and I don't, let me make this clear, give up.'

Iruna threw her hands up into the air. 'Whatever.'

The priest flipped through the book again, muttering under his breath until he found the page he was looking for. He scanned it quickly before shutting the book with a resolute snap. He took a deep breath and started muttering.

Whatever he was doing appeared to be something not many priests did, as the other two realised. It was not the muttering, although the words certainly sounded more mysterious. It was the cross that was slowly appearing behind him.

It was a massive cross, a circle ringing its centre. Samaroh continued his incantation as its brightness intensified with every word he said, until it glowed with utmost purity. Even Iruna was gaping at it.

The priest clapped his hands together. From behind him the other two were sure that they had just seen him absorb the cross. The light ran along from his back to his hands until they were encased in bright balls. Samaroh took a deep breath and slammed his hands on the wound.

There was a lot of sound. It was surprising that no one had woken up even after the three of them had left the room. When it was over Samaroh stepped back from the bed and this time sighed in relief. The mark had gone.

Iruna and Emeth felt more relieved too, but the moment was short-lived. The next thing that happened was that Samaroh collapsed onto the floor.

'Samaroh!' Iruna cried out. They rushed over to the priest's side and tried to rouse him. He came round a few seconds later.

'I...appear to have used up...more energy than I thought,' he said weakly, letting Emeth help him to his feet.

'Of course, you ass! You just said exorcism spells use up more energy than healing ones do yourself! Come on, sit down.' Emeth fumbled in the small pouch he carried and brought out something large and purple. He offered it to Samaroh.

The priest gave it a ludicrous stare, as if it had offended him. He looked up at Emeth. 'You're giving me this?'

'Ah. Oops. Sorry. Wrong thing, it's a bit dark.' The wizard stuffed it back into his ouch and fumbled again. This time he brought out a small potion flask and gave it to the priest, who accepted it and sipped it slowly.

'So...it's gone then?' said Emeth, watching Iruna pull the blanket into place and step back to survey the unconscious form of Valkron.

'Well, I'm not that good at exorcising, so to speak,' said Samaroh. 'But given the strength of the spell I just cast I'd say yes. Mind you, I'm not guaranteeing it's completely gone.'

'We'll know, eventually,' said the crusader. She was still looking at the knight. 'I think we should get some sleep. It won't be long till morning but we need it anyway. Let's go.'

The next morning was so cold that everyone was up even before there was any light. They were informed of the night's events by Iruna and Emeth, who were careful not to mention about what the Blood Judge had said to Valkron.

At the mention of the Blood Judge Samaroh jumped to his feet. 'Are you serious?'

'It's definitely him,' said Emeth. 'You know his name?'

'Argath Iruvedla,' said Samaroh promptly. 'Everything's in this book.'

He showed it to Emeth. The wizard raised an eyebrow in surprise and whistled. 'Woo. Can I have a look at it?'

'Any time.' The priest took aim and skimmed the book between Khan and Nocturne, who were standing in the way.

In a flash a wolf had sprung out of the bushes and caught the book between its jaws. It scampered off quickly, followed by a shouting Samaroh a minute later. The rest stared after them in shock.

He came back some time later, shaking his head. 'That damned wolf just ripped the book to pieces. I can't believe it. It was the last copy, too.'

'Did it happen to be one of the forbidden copies?' said Emeth shrewdly.

Everyone looked at Samaroh. He looked back at them innocently. 'So? What if it was?'

There was silence. Then Emeth went over to him and gave him a good-natured slap on the back, causing him to cough. 'Don't worry, I've got one too. But it's somewhere else...'

His voice trailed away. They looked up to see what he was gazing at.

Valkron was standing before them, dressed and armed.

'Hello, Valkron,' said Emeth, nodding his head nonchalantly.

'Were you talking about the book?' said the knight. Samaroh looked surprised at this sudden statement, but he nodded.

'Then good. I don't want anyone to talk about it anymore. It won't contribute to our mission. Which needs some reforming, by the way. We're going to do this right for once.'

'What are you talking about?' said Eni.

'No questions,' said Valkron. 'Don't question the orders given to you, you don't have the authority. I'm going to take our bearings first.'

He walked out of the inn. Everyone looked at each other.

'Samaroh?' said Emeth.

'Yes?' The priest looked like he was expecting the answer but he didn't say it.

'You didn't cure him.'