The fires continued to burn, but Talarius could hear no more sounds from the stakes. He could see no more contorting bodies. It was nearing the end. All that was left was to watch these remaining fires burn out. Watch, as he had the day before when he’d burnt the bodies of sixteen of his men. Twelve had been dead. Killed outright. The other four had been in the same Tiernon-forsaken state as these sad creatures. He felt the loss of each of those men as if they were a part of himself.
He couldn’t let that loss stop him, however. He had a job to do. People to save, a mission. He would meet the challenges set forth before him. He would meet and conquer them, as he had in the past, as he would in the future. While he would grieve in his own way, if he faltered or halted in his mission, Tiernon alone knew how many would pay the price of his hesitation. How many had already paid in the past. Melissance... Trian... Kiernon... Baxtion. Talarius shook his head. He would lead men wherever the right took them. He would never let his own inactions allow another innocent to come to harm again, not if he had any say in it.
The last of the fires had burned out. Twilight was beginning to set in. It was hard to tell in this dark land where the sun never seemed to shine, however the general light level seemed to be decreasing. Talarius trudged back towards the village. He would get the villagers to bury the remains of the ashes, or whatever they cared to do with their loved ones. The ashes were not his concern. He’d inspected every smoldering burned out heap of ashes. Inspected them to insure that nothing evil had escaped. Clean. Clean and pure at last.
The mud and wattle huts of the village seemed to almost blend into the brown and grey landscape and sky. He wondered how the villagers could go on here, day after day. They did though. Perhaps that was what he most admired in the human spirit. The ability to carry on, no matter what. To fight against the odds, to grit one’s teeth and hang on against all that the gods threw at one.
As he entered the village, the mayor, or what passed for a mayor, came out to tug pitifully at his cloak. “Sir, Lord Talarius? Is it over?” Talarius looked sadly down into the man’s frightened eyes. The weight of pain and fear seemed to bow the man over, as if he bore a great burden. Given all the troubles the village had undergone, he probably did.
“Not Lord, Gasmon. I told you that before. I am simply Talarius. No more, no less. If you wish, you may call me Sir Talarius, but that is the highest honor I aspire to. I am but a man, like yourself. And yes. It is over. Finally over.”
Talarius looked back over his shoulder to the charred remains of this man’s friends. The man’s wife even. “It is over. They have all gone to what awaits them in the afterlife. I pray that many of them have been forgiven and will find the rewards they so otherwise deserved.” He rested his hand gently on the man’s shoulder. He smiled gently, but sadly, down at the mayor as he said. “You may go and do as you see fit with the remains of your people. No more harm will come from them or to you.” The mayor nodded his thanks and quickly scurried off to gather his fellow villagers.
Talarius made his way towards War Arrow. He’d sent his few remaining men on ahead. He’d left this last task for himself alone. He stopped by the bench outside the inn to gather his saddlebags. He’d left them there this morning, in preparation for leaving as soon as this job was done. He then continued on up the road to his steed. As he approached his companion, he shook his head, trying to clear it. This chapter was over, another was about to begin.
He had already received a request for assistance from Iskerus. Demons it seemed. Talarius almost smiled. Not quite, but almost. Demons were much harder to deal with than vampires or ghouls. Demons were the worst of the forsaken. They were the very essence of the Dark. Nearly impossible to permanently kill or defeat. A challenge if there ever was one. A challenge he grimly relished.
With demons, there was no question. The entire issue was black and white. No humanity involved. No lingering doubts about doing the right thing. Demons must die, must be defeated if mortal kind was to survive. Demons were the antithesis of all that was good, all that was life. In slaying a demon, Talarius wasn’t killing some poor monster that had once been human. No creature who’s soul had been sacrificed at the vile whims of another. No being that had foolishly given up his or her life in the pursuit of fleeting dreams of physical immortality, and who might later regret such a hasty action. With demons, there was no question of killing unshriven. No worry about forgiveness. Demons had no guilt, no remorse, no doubt, no repentance. Even if they did, they were the most damned of the damned, there was no possibility of parole or pardon. With demons, it was out of Talarius’ hands, his mission was clearer with demons, there were no doubts, no fears. Only action.
“Any luck?” Lenamare asked Jehenna as she walked into their chamber, not really expecting a positive answer. He was not disappointed; he didn’t get one.
“None. I retraced back to the ambush sight. Apparently, some of our people survived. Our dead seemed to have been buried, and the wagons salvaged. From the looks of things, the survivors headed for Freehold. The book was gone.” Jehenna reported.
“So! If our people lived, then they must have won, and taken the book. If they’re heading to Freehold, they’ll be here any time. Naturally, out of deepest concern for my students, I should personally arrange to go and meet them. And the book, of course.” Lenamare jumped from his chair in excitement over the thought of getting his book back. He began pacing the room, planning. Jehenna was already shaking her head though.
“One would think so. However, I followed the trail all the way to Freehold. I found some of our horses wandering free, plus the packs. No sign of the people, or the book.”
“Damn! How sure are you?”
“Very, it’s hard to miss things in spirit form when you know how to look for them. I then scanned the entire area. No sign of anyone. Given that there isn’t really any way to leave the trail, until much closer to Freehold than they could’ve gotten, they must have flown or teleported.”
“Exador excrement!” Lenamare shouted. “They could be anywhere on the damn planet! Why are those idiots doing this to me? Do they enjoy frustrating me?” Jehenna said nothing.
“How? How am I going to find that book? I can’t even get the Abyss blessed fourth order to answer a summons. None of my other demons will have a clue on how to find the book or the students.”
“You could send them all on a wide scan search, I suppose.” Jehenna didn’t sound too convinced her own suggestion would work.
“No, there are not enough of them. Of the ones I can rely on, I’ve only got two thirds, three second and three first. Besides, if I did that, Exador would certainly find out and know we’d lost the book. Then he would be out searching for the thing. At least for the moment he’s penned up here with us at Freehold.”
“I suppose.” Jehenna decided to change the topic. “Any luck on your end?”
“Some. I’ve managed to contact both Trisfelt and Hortwell. Elrose is still unaccounted for.”
“That is something, I suppose. No word on the other groups?”
“None, but they’re irrelevant. Actually if Trisfelt could get back in time for the council meeting it would be a nice touch. He’s got the kids in tow. Their tear-streaked muddy faces could do a lot to persuade the council. Unfortunately, when he bugged out with them he went to his old home in Scarpsdale. It’s about a day short of Hoggensforth. Since he hasn’t been to Freehold in the last twenty years, he’s a bit squeamish about teleporting blindly here with a bunch of kids.