Free Betrayal at Falador by T. S. Church Page B

could possibly be of any defence against the creature that had done this.
    “I tore open his throat like all the rest, and left him where he fell.”
    The speaker felt the tears blurring his eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
    He was supposed to be the hunter!
    “No!” he said as he wept. “Please, take the money, take the jewels. Take everything. You don’t need me for anything!”
    “You are right. I don’t need you,” the dark figure said. “But I am a monster, aren’t I?”
    The cowl fell away from the face. The speaker shouted for mercy as the burning eyes narrowed and the long tongue shot forward to taste his hot tears.
    He let the man scream, relishing each second.
    Let the cries awake the countryside, he thought. Let the people of this land know that I can take whom I wish, unopposed.
    It lasted for nearly two minutes. Then the scream ended abruptly, the sudden silence sending the birds flying from their nests, their cries a witness to the atrocity under the first of the dawn light.
    A minute later, several goats left the clearing and headed north.
    Theodore had not slept. So much had happened in the three days since the girl had arrived—the appearance of the monster, the return of Castimir, his introduction to Ebenezer and to Gar’rth.
    He wondered if this was what life was like for a knight all the time. Indeed, he hoped so, for he had loved every minute of his small adventure.
    Except for the gypsy caravan. His thoughts darkened at the memory of such gruesome sights. Then again, he remembered, a knight’s life had to be like that. Such evil would remind him of his duty, to ensure that it would never be repeated.
    He left Taverley before daybreak, intending to get as far south as he could before halting. Ebenezer had sent Gar’rth to prepare the mare, but she had shied away from him. Even Castimir’s yak, indifferent to much that was going on around him, pushed himself to the farthest end of his enclosure in an effort to be away from the feral youth.
    Only when Theodore had soothed the mare would she let Gar’rth fit her saddle. It took careful instructions issued by example for Gar’rth to see how it was done. Theodore wondered what kind of life Gar’rth must have lived to have never saddled a horse before.
    As he left the stable the youth bowed his head.
    “Thank you, Gar’rth,” Theodore said. He was startled to see the surprise that his words had provoked. Was the young man really such a stranger to kindness and common decency?
    Castimir was standing in the courtyard, and Theodore embraced him. The young wizard’s red hair was dishevelled from his sleep, his eyes half-shut as he said goodbye to his childhood friend there under the dawn sky. Even Ebenezer bid him a fond farewell, and Theodore, not wanting to leave with any ill words between them, took the alchemist’s hand.
    Then he hoisted himself into the saddle, and headed off along the road to Falador.
    He had gone no more than five miles when he pulled on the reins to halt the mare. Her breath was visible in the cold morning air, and she shied a bit, as if aware of the sudden change in her master’s mood.
    Theodore stood in his stirrups, looking to the east.
    A black pall of smoke was rising from the dense woods not far from the road, and he could see the black shapes of carrion eaters flocking to the south. He knew well what the black wings meant.
    Slaughter.
    He had no choice but to investigate. Dismounting, he led the mare off the road and into the drifts that carpeted the forest floor. The going was slow and Theodore had to keep the sun before him to ensure that he was travelling in the right direction, for the tall trees obscured his view of the smoke.
    After several minutes of stumbling through the soft snow that crunched underfoot, he came upon a track. Here he could see that the snow had been churned up by a large but disorganised body of men that had passed over it very recently. They had not taken the time to hide