arm reached in and a gory, clawed hand grabbed him by the head and said in a voice straight from hell, “Drop the crossbow.”
He had to drop it when Ash lifted him off the ground. His hands clung to the cruel fingers, taking the weight off his neck.
Po walked right up and took the dagger out of his belt. She raised the point under his chin. He went still immediately. She pulled his cloak off his shoulders and tossed it to Olias.
“Allow me.” She was affecting a helpful tone that held a sinister edge.
“Just like all those times you made me.” She unbuckled his belt and it fell, heavy with pouches and purse. Olias dragged it away.
“Nothing to say? Unlike all those times, you raped me. You had plenty to say then. You never stopped telling me how powerful you were. Are you powerful now? Well, you will never touch me again. Or anyone else. Keeper.” She spat those final words.
She drew back and paused so he could see what she was about to do. She hammered the dagger into his heart. She wanted him to see it coming. She twisted it to see the pain in his face. When his hands left his head to go to the knife, she pulled it out and showed its bloody length to him as the light went out of his eyes and his body grew limp.
Without a word, Ash threw his body out into the darkness.
“I'll keep watch. We'll leave in the morning,” Ash said from the darkness as he withdrew. A moment later, another horse was led in. It must have been Malcom's. Then some freshly cut boughs covered the entrance, stopping the wind.
“What did I tell you?” Olias actually smiled.
Po looked at him. A deep crease was between her brows.
“I just killed a Keeper.” Po was stoic as she looked at the bloody knife.
It was warm in their shelter. The branches above with the snow bending the boughs down acted like a chimney, drawing the smoke up. Their clothes dried quickly and their bedrolls on the thick bed of pine needles made for a soft bed. By morning, the snow had stopped. The sky was still heavy, and the snow was about a foot deep. They didn't see the monster anywhere. But they saw his tracks.
His wake was so wide and so deep, it was like he was plowing a path.
After they had ridden for two hours, they came across a great pile of Marcie grass and acorns. It took Olias only an instant to know that they were for the horses. The horses did not immediately run to the food. They were very well trained. Po and Olias led them over and had to take off their bits and bridles and hand feed them the first acorn to signal that it was okay to eat now.
Olias and Po ate some dried meat and cheese while they waited for the horses to finish.
“That monster knows how to care for horses better than me,” Po said in disgust, as she watched them eat. “Where are we going? We should be heading south. There are no villages this direction.”
“Po. We are alive,” Olias said.
She was hugging herself.
“He saved us again,” Po said in a trembling voice.
She looked him in the face. Fear and dread were in her eyes. “Why? Why us? What does he want from me? You thought Malcom was bad! He was cruel and vain and full of greed. But he was not powerful. Not like this. This Keeper Barcus has killed hundreds of the high Keeper’s men on a whim.” She was trembling, as she continued. “That 'thing' we are following may be leading us to damnation. It has no soul. It is not flesh and bone. It's made of stone, black malice, and death. It helped me kill a Keeper. An unforgivable sin. It wanted me to kill him! It could have easily done it himself. I am already lost. You may be lost as well because you let me live.”
“Keeper Barcus saved us,” Olias said slowly.
“What about Greenwarren? Did he save them? Or were they just bait for more death? Why would a Keeper do this?”
Olias was close now. “Answer this first. Why the hell is the High Keeper sending soldiers to wipe out our villages?”
“Who are we to question the Keepers?” Her back was to
He had to drop it when Ash lifted him off the ground. His hands clung to the cruel fingers, taking the weight off his neck.
Po walked right up and took the dagger out of his belt. She raised the point under his chin. He went still immediately. She pulled his cloak off his shoulders and tossed it to Olias.
“Allow me.” She was affecting a helpful tone that held a sinister edge.
“Just like all those times you made me.” She unbuckled his belt and it fell, heavy with pouches and purse. Olias dragged it away.
“Nothing to say? Unlike all those times, you raped me. You had plenty to say then. You never stopped telling me how powerful you were. Are you powerful now? Well, you will never touch me again. Or anyone else. Keeper.” She spat those final words.
She drew back and paused so he could see what she was about to do. She hammered the dagger into his heart. She wanted him to see it coming. She twisted it to see the pain in his face. When his hands left his head to go to the knife, she pulled it out and showed its bloody length to him as the light went out of his eyes and his body grew limp.
Without a word, Ash threw his body out into the darkness.
“I'll keep watch. We'll leave in the morning,” Ash said from the darkness as he withdrew. A moment later, another horse was led in. It must have been Malcom's. Then some freshly cut boughs covered the entrance, stopping the wind.
“What did I tell you?” Olias actually smiled.
Po looked at him. A deep crease was between her brows.
“I just killed a Keeper.” Po was stoic as she looked at the bloody knife.
It was warm in their shelter. The branches above with the snow bending the boughs down acted like a chimney, drawing the smoke up. Their clothes dried quickly and their bedrolls on the thick bed of pine needles made for a soft bed. By morning, the snow had stopped. The sky was still heavy, and the snow was about a foot deep. They didn't see the monster anywhere. But they saw his tracks.
His wake was so wide and so deep, it was like he was plowing a path.
After they had ridden for two hours, they came across a great pile of Marcie grass and acorns. It took Olias only an instant to know that they were for the horses. The horses did not immediately run to the food. They were very well trained. Po and Olias led them over and had to take off their bits and bridles and hand feed them the first acorn to signal that it was okay to eat now.
Olias and Po ate some dried meat and cheese while they waited for the horses to finish.
“That monster knows how to care for horses better than me,” Po said in disgust, as she watched them eat. “Where are we going? We should be heading south. There are no villages this direction.”
“Po. We are alive,” Olias said.
She was hugging herself.
“He saved us again,” Po said in a trembling voice.
She looked him in the face. Fear and dread were in her eyes. “Why? Why us? What does he want from me? You thought Malcom was bad! He was cruel and vain and full of greed. But he was not powerful. Not like this. This Keeper Barcus has killed hundreds of the high Keeper’s men on a whim.” She was trembling, as she continued. “That 'thing' we are following may be leading us to damnation. It has no soul. It is not flesh and bone. It's made of stone, black malice, and death. It helped me kill a Keeper. An unforgivable sin. It wanted me to kill him! It could have easily done it himself. I am already lost. You may be lost as well because you let me live.”
“Keeper Barcus saved us,” Olias said slowly.
“What about Greenwarren? Did he save them? Or were they just bait for more death? Why would a Keeper do this?”
Olias was close now. “Answer this first. Why the hell is the High Keeper sending soldiers to wipe out our villages?”
“Who are we to question the Keepers?” Her back was to
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