Richard Parker - Elsewhere

She didn’t have long. The idiot pounded down the stairs, clearly concerned, but not very cautious. She struck just as he reached the landing. She attempted to gauge where his neck would be and she swung her kali hard enough to slice through skin and bone, plenty hard enough to remove the fool’s head. The weapon sliced into the large man as he flew past and without even slowing the idiot crashed into the masonry wall at the bottom of the stairs. His bulk overturned one small table and his head struck with a satisfying thud, then he was still. de Baard paused for only a moment, listening to the night sounds. Outside she heard a dog bark from far off in the distance, but from the room upstairs…nothing.

‘So close,’ she thought eagerly.

‘Just the bitch left now,’ de Baard thought, picturing the one armed Samantha cowering in terror. The Executioner smiled, feeling the warmth of killing start in her groin and spread in waves throughout her body.

XII

It was already dark when Gwaynn appeared in the courtyard of the bailey directly in front of Tarina Grace. He immediately collapsed to his knees and waves of hunger gripped him, causing his stomach to clench and knot, like a muscle cramp. The distance he Traveled was by far the largest he’d yet accomplished, but it was the manipulation of Time that truly drained his body of energy. He was not entirely sure how long he’d held Time motionless as his projected self searched through first the bailey and then through the hospital tent for Samantha. In a panic, he even went so far as to search quickly through Manse’s defenses, moving along the lines of the levee in the hopes of spotting her. But in the end he only found the Tarina and Traveled, knowing she would be able to tell him Samatha’s whereabouts, as well as that of the Executioner Huntley.

He struggled to his feet but his legs were shaky and weak and he immediately collapsed once more before the astonished Tarina.

“Soldier!” She yelled at a nearby guard. “Run and bring food…a lot of food…now!” She snapped her fingers as he lingered, eyes on his King. The soldier jerked and then ran off to do her bidding, wondering just what was happening.

“The battle?” Grace asked, fearing the worst, as she squatted and helped Gwaynn to his feet.

“Nearly won…” Gwaynn stammered fighting to catch his breath. His heart and lungs were pounding far worse than after his ten mile runs back on Noble. “Sa…Sama…Samantha...” he finally managed to push the word out but was unable to continue for several more seconds.

“Samantha’s fine,” Grace said and frowned.

A few moments later Gwaynn had sufficiently caught his breath to speak. “Where…where is she?”

The Tarina frowned. “I sent her to Colchester with the rest of the wounded,” she explained. “I expect another attack from the Temple Knights at any time. Why they didn’t follow up on the early success I’ll never know. Could be the biggest mistake of the war,” she added, but then stopped as she felt him weakly shaking her arm.

“The wounded?”

Grace smiled. “She took a spill, but she and the baby are fine. Is the army coming? We’ll lose Manse if they don’t arrive quickly.”

Gwaynn shook his head and tried to stand but his left knee crumpled beneath his weight. He would have fallen again without the Tarina’s support. She led him to a long bench that ran the length of the southern wall of the bailey. He sat gratefully, then doubled over as a massive cramp ripped through his insides; when it passed he straightened up as much as he dared.

“Cyndar Huntley…where is she?”

Grace frowned again. “She took a long sword through her side. She’s very lucky her vital organs were missed….”

“Where?” Gwaynn interrupted.

“I sent her to Colchester with the rest,” Grace answered, wondering at the boy’s manner and why he seemed so agitated. Her wonder turned to fear when what color he had drained from his face. He tried to stand and succeeded, though clearly the effort was taxing him.

“You need food,” Grace said and attempted to pull Gwaynn to a sitting position once more.

Gwaynn shook his head forcefully and tried to extract himself from her grip. He was unsuccessful. “I need to go!”

Grace looked at him, confused. “Go…go where?” She asked as the soldier finally returned with a platter full of meat, cheese and bread.

Gwaynn wanted to answer her question but instead he reached for the platter, nearly spilling it. Grace took it from him and held it up as he began shoving large pieces of meat into his mouth.

“Slowly…” she said. She was aware of the great need for sustenance Travelers required after the manipulated space, but she’d never witness anything quite so extreme. Gwaynn ignored her and ate quickly and steadily for nearly ten minutes until the worst of his pains began to diminish. “Peaches!” He barked at the soldier. “Find peach juice…or peaches…run man!” Gwaynn shouted, but his impatience and worry got the best of him and he stepped away from the tray and closed his eyes attempting to project.

“What are you doing?” Grace asked alarmed. She set the tray on the bench and moved to Gwaynn. If she did not know any better she would swear he was trying to Travel…though how he would do so without the twenty-nine steps she did not know.

Gwaynn continued to ignore her until she grabbed his arm, breaking his concentration.

“Release me!” He shouted opening his eyes, true anger reflected in his expression. The Tarina recoiled.

“You’ve not the strength to Travel again,” she said softly.

“I must,” Gwaynn cried.

“But why…where?”

“Colchester,” Gwaynn spat out. “Cyndar Huntley is an Executioner!”

ǂ

Cyndar moved up the stairs quickly but nearly silently. She knew there was little chance the bitch was still sleeping after the racket the oaf made pounding down the stairs.

She reached the second level rapidly and spotted a feeble light coming beneath the first door on the left. Without hesitation she glided down the hall, turned the handle and pushed. She stepped neatly to one side as the door swung open in the off chance the whore was ready for her. Her caution was for naught, no one stood in the door frame; but as Cyndar’s eyes tracked farther into the room she caught the outline of someone standing on the far side of a large bed.

Lightning quick, de Baard drew her needle knife and launched it through the darkness at the lone figure. As always, her aim was true. She heard of soft thud as the knife hit and buried itself deep within the chest of the figure.

‘The bitch is finally dead!’ de Baard thought gleefully, as a slight whimper came from the swaying figure. Seconds later the body crumpled to the ground. With a smile de Baard moved into the room. At first her eyes remained locked on the body lying partially exposed on the far side of the bed. But even before she reached the corpse she realized the hair was not right. Dim though the light was coming from the candle, it was obvious that the hair of the recently deceased was light, without a hint of red. de Baard’s eyes flew up to the bed, and there watching her progress in the semi-darkness was Samantha, wide awake, propped up slightly on a pillow.

“You killed her!” Samantha said accusingly.

de Baard quickly recovered from her surprise and smiled.

“Yes,” She said, holding out her robes as if in a fashion show. “It’s what I do. And I’m here to kill you, Samantha Fultan and cut that abomination from your stinking corpse.”

The mention of the baby suddenly spurred Samantha into motion. She threw the covers aside and launched herself up onto the floor, hoping to get to the door beyond before Cyndar could reach her.