Iron Blooded

Thirteen: Bad Omen



“What am I even looking at?” Whispered Kato from by side.

We were standing at the edge of a ledge overlooking a small drop off. There, about fifteen feet below us was a small pit.

That’s where the bodies were.

There were three of them, and all were human. They were splayed out across some sort wooden slab, spread eagled. Their hands had been nailed through the palms, their eyes and tongues removed.

I stared into the empty sockets where the eyes should have been and felt my gorge rise.

“One of them is alive.”

Martin’s voice sounded strangled.

To my horror one of the victims was stirring. At the sound of our whispers it turned it’s sightless face toward us.

The skin of it’s chest had been sliced open revealing the meat within. The sight alone was enough to make my palms break out in a cold sweat.

“Who the hell would do this? Who would…” Martin’s voice was beginning to rise. Draxus gripped his shoulders to steady him.

“You have to end his suffering,” he said. “Shoot him with an arrow.”

Martin’s lip was trembling. He was shaking his head back and forth.

“I.. I can’t.”

“You have too.” Draxus voice was steel that brooked no argument. After a moment the tracker swallowed hard and nodded. His hands were trembling as he reached for an arrow.

“Wait.”

He froze at the sound of Kato’s voice. The young warrior had dropped to a crouch, his eyes fixed on the one living man nailed to the slab.

“Throne.”

He made the sign of the saint.

“It’s the Captain,”

There was a horrified silence.

I leaned forward as far as I dared and what I saw made my stomach churn. The living corpse was the Captain… or at least it had been.

Much of the skin of his chest and stomach had been flayed off. His eyes and tongue were gone, and closer inspection revealed that he was laying in his own waste.

I did vomit then, the sound of the splatter echoing off the walls. I wiped a hand across my mouth, grim as all sin.

“Do it.” I said. “Don’t let him suffer any longer.”

Martin took in a shaky breath to steadied himself. He pulled the string back and sighted down the arrow.

The Captain’s body shuddered once when the arrow hit him through the eye socket. Then his eyeless head fell back.

“They did this to him?”

I had turned to ask Draxus. He shook his head and for the first time ever I saw fear in the lines of his face.

“I’ve never heard of Goblin’s performing torture rituals. That’s more in the jurisdiction of,-”

“Don’t,” Seth cut a hand through the air. “Don’t speak of the occult, not here. God King protect us,” he muttered. He was rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Someone has to report this,” I said. “These men look like soldiers. Lord Blackthorne needs to know about this.”

“They could be deserters,” said Draxus, stepping back from the pit.

"That would explain the Captain. He was nowhere to be found when the battle started. He must have tried to run and gotten caught."

His hands twitched like he might make the sign of the saint, then he seemed to realize what he was doing and let them drop to his side.

“I recognize their uniforms. They were under Lord Blackthorne's command."

“I’ll go.” Martin was still unsteady on his feet. By the sweat on his upper lip and the way his eyes darted from place to place, I could tell he was on the edge of hysteria.

I bit the inside of my lip, thinking.

“Alright,” I said. “Tell Lord Blackthorne what we’ve found here. And let him know we’re going ahead to find Lord Dacon.”

Martin nodded, and without another word he turned and fled. I watched him go with only a little regret. It was a bad idea to venture further into these tunnels. Whoever had mutilated these men could still be around, and it was possible we’d find it before we found Dacon.

The thought made me shudder. The Occult, Draxus had said. Had he meant the paranormal? I would have to ask him later out of earshot of the others.

I turned away from the pit and squared my shoulders. I was still nauseous and the sweat on my palms made my the inside of my gloves stick. But I was determined to see this through, even if it was starting to feel more like a suicide mission than a rescue.

We followed the trail of icor through the tunnel, only coming to a stop when we found the Goblin corpse.

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“Sword strike,” said Draxus approvingly. “He got him good. Looks fresh.”

That boded well enough. Dacon was high leveled and if he was still armed, then his chances of survival were much higher than they had been.

Though the trail of blood had ended, there was only one direction to go.

Down. And so we continued.

We passed through another Cavern, this one larger than the last. Draxus raised his torch and the flame flickered.

“There.”

Kato pointed and I followed his finger. Against the rough stone of the far wall was another tunnel. It was small and narrow but the glint that came within was unmistakable.

Draxus crouched before the entrance and I knelt and reached in. The gauntlet was heavy in my hand. It high quality steel and rimmed with an ornate gold gilding.

It was Dacon’s.

“Fuck me,” said Kato. “I don’t fancy going down there. “Looks like a tight squeeze.”

I grimaced. He was right. In order to fit through this secondary tunnel we’d have to crawl on our hands and knees, and even then our backs might scrape the stone.

I didn’t like our odds. I hesitated for a moment before holding my hand out for the torch.

“I’ll go,” I said. “I’ll scout ahead and see if I can spot anything. There's no sense in all of us going down this hole if it only leads to a dead end. Then again he might have dropped the gauntlet on the way up.”

Kato looked unconvinced but in the end Draxus reluctantly handed over the Torch.

“Don’t go far,” he said. “We’ll be in the dark. That torch goes out and we’re Goblin food.”

I nodded and leaned my shield up against the wall. As much as I hated to leave it, I wouldn’t be able to fit through the hole carrying both it and the torch. The descent was slow going. The rocks were rough, snagging on my gloves and trouser legs. The flame was dancing first one way and then another, casting shadows on the walls.

The tunnel walls became narrower.

I grit my teeth as I felt the stone scrape against my shoulders. It was getting too tight, the space too narrow. Even the space in front of my knees felt crowded.

I tried to move forward, only have my helmet catch on the edge of a the rock. I tried to pull my head forward but I was snagged. Panic hit me all at once. The walls felt like they were closing in. Stupidly I tried to stand up, boots slipping on the stone. There was no where to go.

Get a grip I told myself even as my pule thudded in my ears. Maintain control. Panic will get you nowhere but stuck or dead. It was easier said than done.

It took long minutes for me to slow my breaths enough to feel my heart rate drop. I renewed my grip on my sword and pressed forward.

Finally the tunnel came out into an open chamber. It was clear that this cave was far from natural.

The walls were chiseled smooth. Across the surface I saw carvings in them set into the stone. Strange markings, like writing in a language I didn’t understand. I stepped forward, lifting the torch to cast light across the carved wall.

A sound behind me made me spin. I was ready, guard up and torch held out in front of me. But the sound had come from several yards away.

Dacon slumped against the wall, his head lulling to his chest. He had lost his helmet at some point and I could see the dark stain of blood on the gambeson beneath his plate.

I crossed to him quickly, dropping to a knee beside him.

“My Lord,” I asked. “Are you well?”

Dacon stirred, his head rolling to one side as if he were trying to stay awake. His eyelids fluttered open and blue eyes focused on me.

“Ah, Will of Blackbriar.” He said. “I must confess, I’ve been better.”

I brought the torch closer and Dacon shielded his eyes as I got a good look at his wounds. It was bad. His armor had been ripped, torn as if cut through with giant sheers.

The metal was mangled and bent, and beneath, a steady flow of blood was leaking.

“I have to stop the bleeding,” I told him.

I scanned his stats and saw that his vitality was in the yellow, but it was beginning to drop downwards. If it hit red, the Count’s Son would be meet his end.

"I didn't go through all of this for you to die my Lord," I told him.

I tore a strip of fabric from his linen under shirt and, putting pressure on the wound with my palm, used it to tie off the deepest of the gashes.

Then I took my canteen from my inventory, and helped the Lord drink.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow.

“Your father did threaten to have me beheaded if I let you die.” I said. He grunted in weary agreement.

“I’m grateful to you. But I should warn you, I didn’t kill it.”

I paused halfway from placing my canteen back in my inventory.

“It?” I asked.

Dacon nodded.

“The Cursed Bear. I only wounded it. It’ll be back, and when it does we should be as far from here as we can.”

Cursed bear. I remembered the tracks in the woods as I stared at the rents in his armor. Marks made by very large claws.

“I thought Goblins brought you here.” I said.

“Oh they did. Little bastards ambushed my men when we chased down the Horde. It was smart really. Feint a retreat only to spring an ambush at the last moment. Almost human, I’d say.”

“Yeah….”

My mind was racing.

“So what happened to you? How’d you get here?”

He shifted against the wall, grimacing as I tore another strip of cloth and began to tie it around a wound In his thigh.

“I managed to stab one of the bastards but then it came out of nowhere. The Goblin’s were just as surprised as I was. It went for them first, and lucky it had or I imagine we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

So, there was something else in the cave aside from the Goblin’s themselves. Something the Goblin’s feared. I could use that.

A rustle from behind me made me spin but I saw a head full of curls a moment before Kato straightened to his feet.

“I see you’re not dead.” He said. His eyes landed on Dacon. “Well well, if it isn’t our missing Lord.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I thought you were going to wait.”

“Well we were. But then something started shuffling around up there… something large. Draxus hit his tinderbox against the wall and you wouldn’t believe what we saw.”

“A giant bear?” I asked.

Kato frowned.

“Who told you?”

I rose to my feet and passed him to torch just as Draxus and Seth slid out of the tunnel.

“Fuck me that’s narrow,” grunted Draxus, dusting himself off.

“Will,” said Seth, his eyes wide.

“You wouldn’t believe what we-“

“Wasn’t a bear was it?”

Seth frowned.

“Who told you?”

“Would you jokesters quit standing around and help me lift Lord Dacon? Forgive me my Lord but we’ll need to prop you up. Can you walk?”

“I think I can manage,” Dacon draped an arm across Draxus’s neck and stood. He wobbled a bit, and his lips pressed together with the pain. But in the end he was able to stand and take a few steps.

I glanced at the entrance to the tunnel.

“We can’t exactly go back the way we came. We’ll need to find a way around. Really starting to wish I hadn’t sent our only tracker away.”

Dacon coughed.

“There is another set of tunnels to the right. I saw them just before the Cursed Bear caught up with me.”

I considered this. It was unlikely that a giant bear had somehow managed to squash itself into the tunnel we had come through. That meant that this chamber had to connect to another network of tunnels - possibly ones that led to the surface.

"We'll try to make it," I said. The Goblins fear the bear, so as long as it's around we won't have to worry about them."

"Just the giant fuck off bear." said Kato.

Seth helped Draxus steady Dacon while Kato and I searched along the wall.

“It’s this way,” I said. Kato held the torch out to better illuminate the space. Draxus and Seth helped the injured Lord Dacon limp his way forward. It was slow going, but I didn't dare to rush Count's son. With his injuries, we needed to be careful.

As we walked I noticed more of the strange symbols carved along the walls. They looked to me like they were forming repeating patterns. Like characters in a script.

I was about to ask if the others if the language was legible to them when a sound stopped me in my tracks. It was a growl - low, deep, and unmistakable.

“Fuck,” I said.

And raised my sword.

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