A/N : Hello everyone, sorry for the wait. Muse went on holiday without me :( so nice long chapter for you, with a dab of action thrown in. Enjoy and review.

Thanks as always to Flyaway213 for betaing this for me :)

Chapter 4: A Black Banner

In the distance, the ground rose to meet the setting sun as the wind began to howl, picking up the ash and dust of the fallen into a great wall of grey. The air felt heavy with sorrows as if it cried out at the horrors, as if it wanted to wipe this black spot from the land. Galen turned as the bell in the centre of this enclave began to ring. Those with shelter screamed before running to hide in their so called homes while other, begged and pleaded to be let in.

"Dust storm! Dust storm!" one women screeched, grappling with children under her arms as she tried to get them to safety. Galen idly wondered who in their right mind would have kids in this time. "Please, sir! Help me!"

Galen realised she was speaking to him. He looked down as his ponytail began to whip in the breeze, his dark hood long since fallen from his head in the oncoming storm. He was tall and strong with a large blade at his side, few knew his origin and fewer still knew his name. To most he had been dubbed "Reaper" for the souls he had claimed at the behest of his master. His eyes were the most piercing emerald and some said he had been touched by magic…What a fancy tale that was. In truth, he was a killer and a damn good one, but he did not kill for killing's sake. Not like Balthazar Redcrow. His eyes trailed to the multitude of black banners waving in the breeze. In their centre, a blood red crow showed who ruled this land now.

"Sir," the woman spoke again. With a put upon sigh, Galen pointed to a door and the woman began thanking him, but he had already turned away at the footstep that sounded to his left. The woman made a hasty exit when she beheld who had made the sound walking to stand beside Galen at the front gate.

"There you are, Galen. You are missing all the fun," his voice was deep and sardonic that mirrored his form; he was a brute of a size with a large cleaver hanging from his back. His leather and metal armor was black and carried his red crow across his breast and shoulder guards. His hair was scruffy and unkempt, as were most around here. 'Barbarian', 'devil', 'foul creature' were thrown at him and he carried them with pride while instilling terror.

"And what fun would that be, my lord?" Galen's voice was rich and subtle, not what one would expect of someone so evil...but then again, Galen was nothing but unexpected.

"Follow. Let's get into the great hall before this storm hits."

"As you wish, my lord."

They walked from the black, steel walls of the outer defenses and towards the large hall in the centre. It was a mixture of old stone that had been repaired here and there with things of the past so it held a jagged appearance. The streets were all but deserted now and the bell had ceased to ring as the bell ringer had wisely taken shelter. They both stopped as loud banging caught their attention. At one of the doors was a man and woman with a young boy, perhaps no more than 10, clinging to the man's leg as he pleaded for entry. Galen went to walk on, dismissing the moment, but swung 'round at the woman's scream and the man's yell. The boy was screaming for his mum as the woman hung limply from Balthazar's blade. The blade's owner was laughing as the woman groaned out her last, blood dripping from her mouth. Balthazar carelessly slung the woman off the blade to let the street dogs pick at her. He laughed loud and long before turning to the male who was holding the screaming child.

"Seems I have found more entertainment," he laughed as he watched the blood drip from his blade.

Galen sighed as he waited to see what his lord intended. Looking to the male, Galen attempted to steer his lord away from his new game, "My lord, the storm."

"Reaper, don't tell me you are scared of a little sand," he looked shrewdly at his minion, dropping his reaper name with others to keep fear alive.

"Nay, my lord. It's just a pain to get it out of all the cracks," Galen began to turn to walk away trying to give the father and son some chance at life..no matter how short lived.

"Bring them both," shorter than he had hoped, it seemed.

Balthazar walked past him at a clip leaving him to bring the two. The Reaper moved his billowing black robe to one side to grasp not his long sword but the weapon folded at his side. The craft to make such weapons was known only to him; although, Balthazar did not know this. He pulled out a long, obsidian shaft with a blade along its left. One would be forgiven for being confused for looking at the blade with the sharp edge pointing to the shaft, one would wonder what possible use this weapon could have? But, with a flick of a catch. the blade sprang outwards, its curved appearance never more plain than now. For in Galen's hand...was a scythe worthy of the Grim Reaper. It was not one of the large scythes often depicted with Death, but it was no less impressive. The pole was the length of his arm, leather wrapped around the bottom for grip. The Scythe blade arched out about the same length, if not a few centimetres longer. He twirled the blade 'round once with practiced ease before leaning the impressive weapon leisurely against his shoulder.

"Move, or don't. It makes no difference to me," he spoke to the male with one last look to his fallen wife. The man held the child close to his side and followed Balthazar to the hall, Galen trailing behind. The door to the hall slammed shut behind them just as the dust roared over the steel battlements. Galen cracked his neck and closed his scythe with a 'snick' before clipping it back to his side. The sword on his right side was more for show than anything. His Scythe weapon stayed hidden in the folds of his robe until he decided to fight. One should not be mislead however, the sword at his side was no less deadly.

He walked into the hall as the man and boy were dragged to the centre where tonight's "entertainment" was waiting. Seems his lord wanted fights tonight, seeing the array of men. Though it puzzled him as to why he had kept the boy alive. Balthazar often killed families and left the male alive in his anger. Anger made them stupid, anger made them challenge Balthazar to a fight...anger made them die.

Picking up a goblet of warm mead, Galan shook the layer of dust that had turned his clothes from black to a dusty grey. Balthazar was sat on his throne by now, shouting orders as he pulled his current favorite wench to his knee, large flagon of mead tipping down his throat. Galen leaned back, listening to the snippets of conversation flittering from Balthazar's men; some were excited about tonight's fun while others were making bets on who would last longest. "Oi! Reaper!" Galen turned at the shout to see Rogan walking up. He leaned beside Galen, one of the only few who would dare to do so. Most gave him a wide birth.

"What do you want now? I thought you and your men were on patrol."

"Nice to see you too. Knew you loved me," Rogan leaned in and began puckering up only to stop at the 'snick' and sharp point at his private parts. Everyone else jumped back quickly with a yelp of surprise, "God, you have no sense of humor!"

"I think I have informed you of this on several occasions. You were saying about patrol?"

"Sorry, sir. Yes sir. Patrol completed, sir. Not as mad as a barmy banana to stay out with this storm coming, sir."

"Do you even know what a banana is?"

"Wasn't it round and green…grows on trees?"

Galen smacked his hand to his face with exasperation, "That's an apple, you moron."

"Are you sure? How do you know?" Galen glared before grabbing an aforementioned apple from the table and ramming it into Rogan's mouth.

"This is an apple! I know because I can actually read, not listen in on someone else and picking a word that sounds funny!"

"Whoa, chill!" Rogan exclaimed around the bite of apple he was trying to chew. "What has got your neck in a twist?"

Galen just growled before sitting down on a chair in a dark corner. Rogan watched him a moment., everyone else having vacated the area at the feeling of Reaper's ire rising. His green eyes pierced the centre as he watched the night's sport. Rogan grabbed two more flagons before sitting beside him; he passed one to Galen who took it without comment. They sat in silence a few more moments before Rogan spoke again in a hushed tone.

"Galen, what is up?" green eyes turned to regard Rogan. Only he and Balthazar dare to use his real name. Balthazar had dubbed him "Reaper" to make his men fear Galen. Rogan, on the other hand, had gained enough trust to use it. They weren't friends, such things no longer existed. They were just mutually beneficial to each other for the moment.

"Something is coming. Be it for good or bad, I am not sure."

Rogan was stopped from inquiring further when Balthazar sat up, their lord clapping his hands. All in the hall stilling as to listen to what had in mind. The leader of the New World looked at the captives in the tall cage standing in the centre of the room. The edges had random spikes dotted around, all stained with the blood of countless.

"Now men, until this storm blows over I have some entertainment," he walked into the cage, all the while looking directly at the man and young boy. Before the man could do anything, Balthazar grabbed the young boy by the scruff of his clothes and carried him from the ring, the guards beating back the man as he attempted to reach his son.

"Nathan! Nathan! Give him back, you monster!"

"All in good time. Here is the deal," Balthazar looked to all the men in the ring, about fifteen in total stood waiting to hear what their fate would be. "If you can kill all these men...I'll let you go free. If you don't, whoever is left standing...may live."

With that, he threw the young boy at one of the guards before sitting down on his throne. The room broke out in a roar as men began making bets on who the victor would be, others dropping a few blades into the ring to add more odds to the outcome.

"Wow...that's rough," Rogan whistled as he leaned back to watch with Galen. Galen just made a non-committed sound, "I suppose it is this that has you so wound up. You know, for such a good killer, you are too soft hearted."

"I think you will find you are speaking about yourself on that point."

In the arena, three men were already dead, the others swinging their blades like mad men. Obviously, having no idea how to wield them, one had to question how they survived for so long like this? Probably been licking someone's boot to stay alive. What was surprising was this father. He had yet to be harmed and was taking down men with some skill. So much so that the men left, all seven of them were now banding together to face this one man. They moved as one, the father buried in the circle of men trying to take him down. Rogan was leaning forward with a low whistle as before long only the father was left standing. Wearing a heavy scowl, Galen turned to look at Balthazar. This was not going as he had obviously anticipated. The young boy was cheering for his father and many of the men echoed this as they went to claim their winnings.

"Reaper!" Balthazar roared. All eyes turned to him as he raised his hood to hide his face. Galen stood and walked towards his lord when he felt Rogan grab his wrist as if to stop him, "What are you going to do?"

"Kill him, I would imagine," he replied in a cold, calm tone.

"But..."

"Which one of us is soft hearted again?" he added before walking up to the raised dais on which Balthazar sat upon his throne, a now angry scowl on his face. "Yes, my lord?" Balthazar ignored him, eyes locked on the father as he stood up.

"Seems you have beaten the men, but one more challenge awaits you. Then you may go. Kill my Reaper and you will go with your boy."

"You are changing the rules!"

"Oh, I am, am I? Very well, you may go," Balthazar walked to the cage, opening the bared down and standing to one side; he bowed low as the father carefully walked out. The father went to get his son but was stopped by Balthazar's voice, "Uh-uh. What are you doing?"

"You said we could go free."

"I think you will find...I said you could go free if you defeated these men. I never said anything about your son," Balthazar sneered, his face almost demonic in his sadistic glee.

The father's face fell as he realised that the cured king spoke the truth. He had not said anything about his son until he had called the Reaper over. The man looked over to Reaper, who was standing there with no interest whatsoever, before looking back to Balthazar, "So, if I defeat him we can go?"

"You have my word," Balthazar nodded to reaper who then walked into the cage without looking at the father. He turned and waited for the man to follow him.

This time the atmosphere was different, no bets were being made and hardly half the room was watching; only those new to Redcrow's army and who had yet to witness the fabled "Reaper" fight. Most of the higher level men just went back to drinking. Only the father's son was watching the scene with wide intent eyes. Rogan knew the kid would be disappointed.

The father bent down, picking up a discarded blade and testing the weight of it before running towards Reaper. He swung his sword, surprised to meet empty air as the black robed figure simply stepped to the side. The father went to swing for Reaper a second time and yet again met empty air. Reaper had yet to pull any weapon, acting as if he was playing with the man.

"Reaper! Stop playing!" Balthazar bellowed. Rogan saw Galen's shoulders heave in a sigh. He wasn't quite sure what he had hoped to achieve by playing with the man. Maybe hoping Balthazar would lose interest?

The father ran at Reaper again but before the sword could land a blow there was a 'snick' and the scythe was in Reaper's grasp. He had blocked the blow on the shaft with a dull clang. Pushing the father's sword back, he swung it 'round in an almost leisurely swing only to have it was stopped by the man's sword; although, all could see Reaper had put no effort behind the swing. They danced 'round trading blows, the man getting more worn while Reaper looked like this was nothing to him.

"REAPER!" this time, Balthazar's voice roared silencing all in the hall, his anger coming to the fore.

Galen looked away at the yell, eyes locking with Balthazar's. In that moment, the father raised his sword to deliver the death blow, only to be blocked by the curve of the scythe in an almost automatic motion, the Reaper's eyes not leaving Redcrow. Slowly, the Reaper's cowled head turned to the father, his green eyes slits in the darkness, "Sorry, friend."

The next instant played so quickly that most missed it. The father's blade was flicked back from the curve of the scythe to go spinning out of his grasp only to land with a twang at Balthazar's feet. The father was standing wide eyed, hands round his middle while Reaper's arm was held out straight as if the Scythe had been swung in a sharp arch. From the pristine blade, now dripping with dark red blood, it obviously had been.

The father turned, one arm outstretched as the other vainly tried to keep his guts inside. "N..n..Nathan," he cried before he started to tip back, the scythe having cut so deep that his body almost bent in half from the slice to his centre. Reaper looked down once before wiping his blade on the father's clothes. He returned the blade as all eyes, wide with fear, watched him walk from the cage and begin walking back to the seat he had claimed at the beginning of the night.

Above this all, the young boy's small, whimpering wail became a scream. He stamped on the guard's foot that had been holding him and ran to the body of his father. He screamed and screamed great heart wrenching sob so much that Balthazar became angry and stomped into the cell. The boy continued to yell and scream, trying to bite Balthazar before he was thrown at Reaper's feet.

"Reaper, clean up your mess."

"As you wish," he placed his foot on the back of the boy's jacket, stopping him from following Balthazar. The boy turned to look at Reaper before rising up to beat his fists against his father's killer.

"I hate you! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!" he screamed, but was quickly silenced by a hard hit on the back of the head with the butt of the closed Scythe. The boy crumpled, out cold to the world and the terror he had witnessed. Men around them laughed as Rogan kept his eyes on Reaper.

"Galen, what are you going to do with him?"

"Kill him, I suppose," Galen replied, the scythe being returned to its place at his side as he took a sip of his drink.

"But…you can't," Rogan stammered.

"Why is that, pray tell?" Galen rose from his chair and grasped the boy by the back of his jacket, looping his arm 'round him so he hung limply in his grasp. "Sounds like the storm's almost over. I have had enough for one night."

With that, Galen walked from the hall, all eyes following his movement with fear. Rogan found himself wondering, not for the first time, which was the most feared. Balthazar Redcrow...or his pet Reaper?

88888MERLIN88888888

No stars shined this night. The dust still swirled in the air, but instead of a grey wall, it was akin to fog. Galen walked through the deserted streets towards the main gate, the guard quickly opening the gate once he saw the Reaper standing there. It was too dark for the guard to see the form under the robed figure's arm.

"I will be back shortly," the Reaper spoke before walking into the dusty night. The ground was cracked beneath his feet and the well-worn road was dry and dead. Luckily, the fields to his left and right were covered to stop the dust from ruining the little crops they could get from the land. Most of the food in the Black Banner was stolen. Galen laughed to himself, what a name for a city! "Black Banner," he supposed, was fitting. The outer walls of stone and bent steel were black, as were the flags that held the red crow. Once he decided he was far enough a distance from the city, he threw the boy to the ground and nudged him with his foot.

"Wake up."

The boy groaned, mumbling "daddy" before sitting bolt upright, tears in his eyes. "Go," the boy looked at him, fear and hatred in his eyes.

"Not going to kill me?"

"I said go."

"Where will I go?" The boy looked 'round at the surroundings, not knowing a direction to take.

"I neither know nor care. You either go now or try and return to Black Banner. One is certain death. Perhaps the other will give you like a little longer," Galen turned to walk back towards the enclave.

"You'll be sorry!"

Galen stopped and turned back, "What?"

"I said you'll be sorry! King Arthur will make you pay! When he returns," with that, the boy got up and ran into the dust. Galen stood there a moment before walking back, his mind dwelling on what the boy had said.

"ha!Knew you couldn't do it!" Galen looked up to see Rogan leaning against the side of the outer wall.

"My scythe had simply tasted enough blood tonight," Galen turned, looking to the horizon were a single star was shining brightly with a white halo.

"What?" Rogan asked, standing beside Galen and looking to the star.

"Something's coming..."

TBC

A/N :

And another chapter for you, nice long one this time. Hope you enjoyed it