“How?” he asked, still struggling to believe it.
“The Voice of the Lion led the assault, and through his disciple Xelrak, brought the building crashing to the ground. I have been traveling north to inform all I can of our new orders. Ashhur’s paladins are weak now, helpless. We must descend upon them before they regroup.”
“Wait…you want to kill Jerico?”
“Kill him? No. We want him executed for his blasphemy and service to the false god. Do you not understand? After all these years, we have a chance for complete victory.” He pointed toward Jerico, and it seemed as if his eyes sparkled. “For all I know, he is the very last. Let us take him now, before he realizes the danger he is in.”
“No,” Darius said, stepping away. “Do you not see the chaos about us? Wolf-men gather in great numbers beyond the Gihon, and any day they will swim across. They’ll slaughter every one of these villagers. Jerico stands at my side. For now, if any of us are to live, we need him.”
Pheus leaned back against the tree. For a long minute he did not speak, only stare, as if gazing into the depths of Darius’s soul. Whatever he saw there, he certainly did not like.
“This is your failure,” Pheus said at last. “And it is yours to correct. This…Jerico…will die by your hand. That is an order, and you will obey, paladin.”
He left the tree and wrapped an arm around Darius’s shoulder. “I must continue my travels. By the time I return, I expect the matter handled. If it is not, the Stronghold will hear of your failure. I assure you, they will be far less understanding than I.”
“Will you not stay and help us?”
“This village is your responsibility, not mine. These men are of the earth, and there will always be a thousand others like them. Our war with Ashhur has waged for hundreds of years. Do you think I would risk losing that over a handful of farmers? What you do, do quickly, Darius. I have spoken. Obey your god.”
Pheus left along the northern road, not a single man or woman saying a word in greeting as he passed by. Darius watched him go, and he stared long after he was gone.
“You all right?” Jerico asked him, having returned to the square after doing who knew what to help another family.
Darius looked at the man, tired, proud, his red hair soaked with sweat and covered with dirt. He tried to see him as an enemy, a blasphemer of a false god. Instead, he saw Jerico. I fear your reaction should you face a true challenge of Ashhur, Pheus had said two years ago, and it seemed prophetic. Was Jerico such a challenge? Had he prepared for physical strength, skill in combat, and left his heart unprepared for the lies, the facades, the tempting half-truths of Ashhur? How could he follow Karak, yet claim a paladin of Ashhur as his friend?
“I’m fine,” he said.
“If you say. The Douglas family needs help fixing their wagon for the journey. Can you help them out?”
Darius nodded, still feeling as if he walked in a troubled dream.
“Jerico,” he said, stopping the other paladin from leaving. “I…forgive me. The Citadel. Have you heard?”
Jerico’s face paled, he swallowed, but he nodded.
“I’m sorry,” Darius said, unsure if it were truth or lie.
“Go help Jim and his wagon. And Darius…thank you.”
A cruel, chaotic world, thought Darius. What greater proof could he need?
“J acob Wheatley bent over beside the wheelbarrow in his garden, swearing at each passing moment. He yanked and tore at the zucchini and winter squash. The tiny hairs on their sides poked his hands, and several cuts bled along his thumbs and palm. Under the best circumstances he wasn’t a patient man, and today he had even less time to be careful. The wolf-men were coming, and the whole town was turning yellow and running.
“Can’t believe Jeremy’s such a bloody coward,” he muttered. “Would probably tuck his dick between his legs and run from a fucking rabbit if it bared its teeth.”
“They ain’t no rabbits,” said Perry, son of his neighbor, Jim Douglas. Jacob usually paid the boy a few coppers to help with his harvest, along with a bottle of shine his father knew nothing about. The two had already filled one wheelbarrow, dumped it back at his house, and come back for a second load.
“Shit, I know that, son. I was there with everyone else when we stepped into the wedge. We were in their land, at night, and we still gave as good as we got. Thank the gods those paladins were there, though. I mean, you should have seen what Gary looked like before the redheaded one could heal…hey, you listening?”
Perry stood straight, a yellow squash still in his hand. His eyes scanned the distance with an intensity that riled up the snakes in Jacob’s stomach.
“I said you listening?” he asked, louder.
“I saw something. There. I’m sure of it.”
“What could you be seeing?” Jacob asked, looking. He saw the edge of his garden, then the long stretch of hills, followed by the slender forest. “There ain’t nothing out there.”
“I was sure, ” Perry insisted.
“And I was sure Tessie would marry me if I bought her a ring. Sometimes we’re so sure of something we don’t realize how stupid we are. At least that tease ended up with Noel. Don’t tell your pap, but I hear his dick’s the size of a…”
“There!”
Jacob stood a second time, and he followed Perry’s outstretched arm. This time he did see a vague shape, but only for a few heartbeats before it sank back into the grass.
“What the fuck was that?” asked Jacob.
“Dog maybe? Looked gray…”
“Dog?” Jacob felt his blood chill. “How big a dog, you think?”
Perry realized what he thought, and he paled.
“It’s daylight,” he said, as if that should mean anything.
Jacob glanced behind him. In the far distance was his house, and several hundred yards beyond, the Douglas home. He could make out vague shapes in front of their porch, no doubt Jim trying to fix that damn wagon of his. He’d made excuses all summer, and now he was learning a hard lesson about putting off until tomorrow what you should have done two weeks ago.
“It’s a long run,” Jacob said, his voice low. “But we might have to do it anyway. You still watching?”
“Yeah.”
Jacob knelt and pulled a few more squashes, struggling to not look alert.
“You just act like you’re catching your breath. Wait for it to move again. Don’t stare at it, you idiot. Look away. Use the corner of your eye, as if you’re trying to peep down a girl’s blouse without her knowin’ it.”
Perry’s neck went red, but he nodded and tried to obey. Jacob counted the seconds, wishing the damn thing, whatever it was, would hurry up and make its move.
“It crawled again,” Perry said suddenly. “Shit, it’s big.”
“It stopped?”
“Yeah.”
“Then run like the wind, boy.”
Jacob stood, grabbed the handles of his wheelbarrow, and ran. Perry had the shorter legs, but he was a wiry boy and unencumbered. Gradually he pulled ahead. Jacob felt the wheelbarrow jostle in his hands. His vegetables would be bruised beyond recognition, but by the gods he wasn’t leaving them behind. It was a matter of pride. He glanced back once, hoping to be revealed an idiot, to see nothing behind him but his empty garden.
A gray wolf-man loped after them, its back bent, its tongue hanging out the side of its mouth.
“Fuck!” he shouted, turning back around. “Run, goddamn it, Perry, run! ”
But the boy was getting tired, his short legs working double-time to keep pace, and they were only halfway down the path toward his home. For a moment he considered tossing Perry into the wheelbarrow, but he knew that’d only get them both killed. No time…no time! He slowed, then stopped completely.
“Jacob?” Perry asked, whirling about. His eyes widened, and Jacob knew he saw their pursuer.
“You not hear me? I said run, you twat, now run!”
Perry obeyed. Swallowing his fear, Jacob turned to face the wolf-man. It was closing the distance between them with horrifying speed. Giddy laughter bubbled up from his belly, and he couldn’t hold it in. Here he was, facing off against one of the most terrifying creatures of all Dezrel, and his only weapon was a wheelbarrow. He was fucked. Totally, completely fucked.