The Winterstone Plague (The Carrion Cycle) (3 page)

“Thank you Tomas. I can take it from here.”

Tomas wrinkled his nose. “Aw! Can’t I come with you? I always miss everything.”

“There is nothing to miss, dear brother. I will take him to father and all shall be dealt with. I want you to check on mother. She mentioned not feeling well before we left for school this morning.”

“Did she?” Tomas looked concerned.

“Indeed, she did. You were probably too busy making jokes to have heard.”

“Fine. I’ll check on her THIS time. You better not be lying just to get rid of me.”

“Why would I ever do that?” Valthian asked, trying to hide his smile.

“Tomas shot a sideways glance, but he didn’t argue further. He shook his head, turned, and disappeared around the corner at the end of the long hall.

“You are in my home now,” Valthian whispered. “Do not disrespect my family in any way. You are to speak to my father only when he asks you a question. Is this perfectly clear?”

Abytheos bowed deeply. “Perfectly, My Lord. I wouldn’t dream of bringing shame or embarrassment to your family name.”

Valthian sighed. This one was far more trouble than he was worth. For the second time since their meeting, he wondered if it would have been better to simply escort the supposed priest to the gates and warn him never to return. He blinked away the doubt and grabbed the ornate golden doorknob. He turned it and opened the door to his father’s study, feeling a tinge of relief when he looked in and saw that Philip was seated at his thick oaken desk, looking over papers.  He resisted the urge to take in the expanse of leather bound books that filled the majority of the space in the large study. Many of those books were stories that Valthian had enjoyed as a child, while others were related to governing, land ownership rights, and myriads of other subjects that interested his father. Several small tapestries hung from the sections of wall that were not buried behind shelves of thick books. Valthian’s favorite of the three tapestries hung behind the desk in which his father sat; it was close enough to the room’s only window that sunlight would often highlight the features of the figures painted upon its surface. On the left, knelt a young woman. Though the paint had faded over the years, Valthian could see that she had a very young face. Standing above her, a king held a broadsword in his hands. The tip of the sword just touched the young woman’s shoulder. It always seemed odd to him that a woman could be knighted, and he had asked his father to explain it more than once. The man had simply smiled and told him that some legends were better left unexplained.

“Valthian!” Philip nudged his sturdy chair back a few inches and stood. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit? Who have you brought with you?”

Valthian bowed slightly. “Tomas and I found this one causing trouble. I thought I would bring him to you for questioning.”

“Gods boy, there’s no need for bowing. You are my son, after all. Trouble you say? What sort of trouble could one old man possibly cause?”

“He was stirring up emotions among some of the villagers.”

“Oh?” Philip motioned for them to come closer. “Please,
Old Timer
. You’ll forgive my insistence on referring to your years upon Alvanshia. I am afraid I do not know your name.”

The old man smiled and bowed deeply. “I am Abytheos, My Lord.”

“Abytheos? That is a rare sort of name around these parts. What is your surname?”

“Haym.”

Philip scratched his bearded chin. “That sounds like a southeastern name. There’s just one problem with that, as I am sure you understand.”

“I do,” Abytheos replied. “Men haven’t lived there since the sun baked the land and mountains of sand swept in to blanket where the great cities had once been built.”

“And just how does one mysteriously show up in the freezing northwest with a name men have not used in centuries?”

“Forgive me,” Abytheos said. “I can explain. You see, my father was a learned man, albeit a superstitious one. He was convinced that we were descendants of the people of those lands. He changed our family name. What it was before, I fear that I do not know. I am only aware of the change because he told me of it. Unfortunately, it was all he would have the chance to tell me.”

“And why is that?” Philip asked.

“He was killed when I was very young. Raiders came to our village and destroyed everything. My father died defending us.”

“I am sorry to hear this,” Philip whispered. “What was your village called?”

Abytheos blinked. “The chances are small that you would know the name.”

“You might be surprised with my range of knowledge about lands. I ask again, what was the name of your village?”

“Deggon’s Path.”

Philip squinted momentarily. “You are right. It is not a name I know. It is of no matter. Many small villages rise and fall throughout the ages. Please forgive my manners, Sir Haym, but won’t you please sit?”

Philip motioned to a chair situated in front of the old wooden desk. “It’s not the most comfortable, I am afraid, but it should do well enough.”

“Thank you,” Abytheos said, sitting. “But please, do not call me
Sir
. It is not fitting to my position. I am but a simple priest; I am not of noble blood.”

“Father,” Valthian chimed. “A word of warning, if you do not mind?”

“Of course, my son!”

“This one is far more cunning than he seems. When I attempted to question his motives, his tongue grew quite sharp. His words had the stench of one who is used to making threats.”

“I shall keep that in mind. Thank you for the warning. Now if you wouldn’t mind, will you run along and help your mother set the table for supper? I am sure your brother is pestering her with his questions and jokes to no end.”

“Are you sure you do not require my presence? I still haven’t told you everything.”

“You can tell me in a few hours’ time over a nice mutton stew. I will see to it that Abytheos is dealt with in accordance to whatever laws he might have bent or broken, if any. I thank you for bringing him to me, but I do not believe he will cause us more trouble.”

“As you wish.” Valthian nodded his head and turned to leave. In five long strides, he was out of the study and standing alone in the main hallway. In the narrow room hung more tapestries, each one telling a story about the origins of house De’Fathi. Most of them had been passed down through the generations. A few were worn well beyond the point of recognition. Still, his family was a proud one, and all accounts of the house’s history that were in their possession were to be displayed, as was the tradition.

He forced himself to stop gawking at the hangings and headed towards the kitchen. If Valthian was certain of one thing, it was that his mother was already cursing under her breath while her youngest son attempted to
help
with supper.

* * *

“I
want to thank you for giving me the chance to speak to you privately,” Abytheos said, smiling. “Children can be somewhat impatient at times, as I am sure you understand.”

“Valthian is quite a good lad,” Philip replied. “He has never been quick to anger, and I trust him completely. You must have startled my son to no end if he chose to escort you to me. If I may ask, what is your reason for visiting our quiet village?”

“I have been witness to some horrible things throughout my travels, Lord De’Fathi. I only sought to warn the people of Solstice of what may come should they not prepare.”

Philip looked down his nose at the robed man. “Exactly
what
is coming to my people?”

“I beg of you not to take my words the wrong way,” Abytheos said. “I do not mean to sound threatening. I only wish to speak of that which I have witnessed. I assume you are familiar with the happenings at Grovenwell?”

Philip sat up straight. “I am not at liberty to discuss Grovenwell.”

“And who gave those orders? Was it the king?”

“No,” Philip said. “It was not the king.”

Abytheos nodded. “Have you even spoken to anyone of importance in the king’s army?”

“My answer to this is also
no
.”

“My lord—I have yet to see a single act of goodwill from this nation’s king in many months. Do you not find this troubling?”

“You seem to know more than you should, Old Timer. Perhaps you can speak, and if our information matches, I will chime in.”

“I am aware of all events that transpired; I was there as the townsfolk burned their brethren!”

“That cannot be, kind sir. We have records of every last man, woman, and child present when the events transpired.”

Abytheos’s smile deepened. “Not every man, apparently. I was but a visitor, merely passing through. The room in which I was staying was located in the first of the buildings to burn. I barely escaped with my life!”

“That is distressing to hear,” Philip replied softly. “But if what you say is true, you are invaluable to me. You are one of a few men living to witness the disaster firsthand. You are probably the only man with his sanity still intact. Please tell me everything you know. Spare no details.”

“I have told you much already,” Abytheos said. “But there are other details in which to impart. Are you certain that you can accept the truth without accusing me of lying?”

Philip waved a hand. “I have known many liars in my life. I can pick them out with little effort. If your words are true, I shall know.”

“You are a reasonable man, my lord. Tell me; are you familiar with the rumors floating around in Solstice? Those of the dead rising and attacking the ones whom they used to love?”

“I have heard such things,” Philip said. “It seems to me that these are the words of overexcited men.”

Abytheos smiled again. “Yes. It does seem that way, but you would be wrong in your assumptions. The rumors are true. I saw a man torn apart by them. The beasts ate the very flesh from the poor fool’s bones!”

Philip swallowed hard. “I am beginning to doubt
your
sanity now.”

“I understand your reserve; oh God, but I do. What if I could prove my claims? What if I told you that I could protect your people—keep the same from happening here? Would you take me on as an advisor? My needs are meager. I need only a place to worship my deity, and if others would choose to worship with me, I would be allowed to host them. In return, I will show you how to protect yourselves against the dead, should they rise from the ground and attack.”

“When I was a child, we had a term for creatures such as these—
Vel’Haen
. It was nothing more than a silly legend told around cookfires. Now you come to me and make claims that the legends are true. You must understand that this is hard to swallow, as it was when the rumors were brought to me this morning. And yet, here you stand, offering protection against these creatures. As I told you before, the people of Solstice have many gods; we do not discriminate on the rights of the people to worship whatever deities they please. If what you say were true, I would offer you the use of our chapel. It has been abandoned for many years, but it still has a sturdy foundation and is more than spacious enough for your needs.”

Abytheos nodded. Philip reached across the table and grabbed a brandy glass. He filled it with dark brown liquid from a nearby decanter.

“Would you care for a drink?” Philip asked.

“No. I do not partake of strong spirits, but I thank you just the same.”

“A wise choice for any man who wishes to be long lived, but I hope you will respect my choice to partake. After the day I have had, I would eat the wild mushrooms of Daigar’s Walk if they would rid me of this damned headache.”

“I have heard men speak of those,” Anytheos said. “Nasty little things, or so I am told.”

Philip laughed. “Indeed they are. I welcome you to Solstice, Father Haym. I doubt many of my people will come to know your god, but as long as you vow to remain peaceful, you are welcome to try with them. As for proof of your claims, how might this be presented?”

“My gratitude flows freely, my lord. I shall have a few of your men escort me to my new lodgings. I must also ask you for ten armed men and a mage, if you have one. The proof I speak of could become quite dangerous without taking the proper precautions.”

“Ten armed men I can grant you, but a mage? Our world has not seen a powerful wielder of magic in generations. Where in Alvanshia have you been hiding not to know such a thing?”

Abytheos raised both hands. “Please forgive me. My upbringing was quite different from what you and your people are accustomed to; I had heard tales of magic and the men who used it as a child, but I was unaware of their extinction.”

Philip scratched his chin. “You are a strange man, but I understand that customs can vary throughout the world. I do have a
mystic
of sorts. Perhaps he could be of assistance. I am afraid that the limited ability men like him have are all that is left of magic in the world.”

“Thank you, my lord. I would like to meet him tonight, at the chapel, if possible.”

“I shall make the arrangements. It is done! Now, I am sure you are tired and would like a chance to rest. I will have a few of my finest escort you to your lodgings. I will also see to it that they inform the town that you are a guest under my protection. I must admit that I am most curious about this proof of which you speak. How long until you will provide it?”

“In the morning. It is best not to venture into the woods at night.”

“Why is that?” Philip asked.

“Because there are Vel’Haen out there!” Abytheos laughed. “Ready your men by morning and we shall go see them!”

––––––––

V
ALTHIAN MADE it to the kitchen just in time to help set the table. He was tired, but he was also thankful for a chance to put something in his rumbling stomach. Tomas was so enthralled by his own bad jokes that he somehow managed to stay out of the way. Fine, golden-rimmed porcelain bowls rested on top of the ornate table planted in the center of the dining room. The table’s gilded legs were carved to look like thick, twisted vines sprouting from the wooden floor below, ending in a wide loop that hugged the surface of the piece. The warm stew filling each of the bowls steamed with a ferocity that made his mouth water. He had not eaten a hot meal all day, and his stomach growled in protest. Valthian tried to ignore the pangs of hunger, concentrating instead on the work before him.