Soul Energy : Chapter Three

The oaken door swung open. Framed in the doorway was Alexander, his immense bulk filtering out the light from the room. Seeing Karn, he nodded once, and stepped back in and to the side to give Karn room to enter. The room was richly clad, considering. Ruby red and golden tapestries adorned the walls, and a rich emerald green carpet covered the flagstones. However, this glamour did not hide the past. The stench of death still lingered in this claustrophobic room, and Karn could smell it.1

“Take a seat” Alexander ordered.2

Bringing his gaze up from the floor, as was custom, Karn allowed himself a glance around the room, taking in his surroundings briefly before sitting down on a bear-skin chair. Cador was upright on the sofa opposite him, a slab of bloody meat held against his festering leg wound. Somehow, he didn’t look that much like a prince to Karn. 3

“What are you staring at, commoner?” He snarled. “This fat fool thinks you are of value, but I have yet to be convinced, so watch yourself.” 4

What an idiot, thought Karn. A stupid  show of power like that deserved an insolent stare. Which it got. Cador’s pale face turned a deep magenta, and his hand went to his blade, before realising the blade that Karn was twirling around was his. Before he could move, his own blade was held against his throat.5

“Cador, I am no commoner, and would as easily kill you as I would a dog” Karn coldly told him. The tension between the two could have been cut with a knife.6

“ENOUGH!” Alexander bellowed from his corner, saliva running down his many chins . He obviously thought he was in charge here. Let him think that, Karn thought, never letting his gaze recede from Cador’s face, nor relinquishing his grip on the long sword.  7

“Karn, back off. You are here by invitation. Cador has been informed of your status, so he is supposed to be aware of your ...ah….skills. So just calm yourself and listen” 8

With a dismissive grunt, Karn let the sword drop from the prince’s throat, and again sat down on the chair. 9

“Fine, but I’m holding onto this” he replied, brandishing the sword in Alexander’s direction. 10

“Fine…”Alexander sighed. “Anyway, now that that’s over, we can…”11

“Alexander.” Cador interrupted.12

“What?”13

“Shut the hell up”.14

Visibly insulted, Alexander spluttered and blustered for a bit, then became quiet. 15

Satisfied, Cador turned back to Karn. The balance of power had yet again shifted in the room.16

“Now then, I understand that you are a formidable assassin. No, sit down and listen. As I’m sure you noticed, my garrison is not in the best of shape. We were ambushed on our way here by a force of fifteen hundred. They completely overwhelmed us, taking out the rear guard with a type of stealth I hadn’t encountered before. They seemed to be a good thirty minutes behind us, but yet my men were falling as if they were right in the midst of us. Being an assassin yourself, I’m hoping you can give a reasonable explanation?”17

Remembering that battle two years ago, and the doppelganger effect his opponent had mastered, Karn nodded, deep in thought. 18

Cador continued. “Ignoring that for now, what’s bothering me is how the attackers knew where I was. I left my palace without anyone knowing. As far as everyone knows, including the people in the palace, I’m still there, bed-ridden. So how could they have known I was riding here? It wasn’t some random assault, I’m sure this was orchestrated by someone. And on top of that, as I escaped with my remaining men, I noticed two things. Firstly, not one of men had escaped unscathed. Secondly, there hadn’t been a leader to this attack, no-one leading the assault. Yet they worked together, almost reading each other’s minds. I’ve never seen anything like it.”19

Karn was silent, mulling over what he had just learnt. Those attackers sounded so much like his strange opponent. Yet…he didn’t think that Sanjay had been able to read minds. That was his speciality. But it had taken him the best part of seven decades to hone the skill. It was inconceivable that warriors could be using it. Karn dismissed the thought; there had to be another explanation. 20

“Well?” Cador prompted.21

Karn stood and paced the room. “I’m not entirely sure…the effect of being somewhere when they’re not, I’ve encountered once before. You didn’t have a chance. As for the lack of a clear leader, that is much more interesting. I will need time to work this out.” Karn responded.22

Cador gave an impatient sigh, adjusting his position so his weight was on the other leg. “That’s the point, time is of the essence. That is why I’m sending you to infiltrate this clan or whatever it is, and learn their ways, so that we can find a weakness.”23

Karn looked him in the eye. “I can’t do that, I have obligations here at the castle.”24

Whatever the outcome, it was worth it to see the look of astonishment on Cador’s face. He’d obviously never been refused anything. Well, I don’t bow to anyone, least of all some royal fool, thought Karn grimly. Cador flew to his feet, his face bright red, as if someone had put a burning branch underneath him. His leg had obviously healed a lot. 25

“Whatever obligations you have, you are from here on released from them. I was not asking you. I was ordering you. You leave with first light tomorrow.”26

With that parting line, Cador swept from the room past a long forgotten overweight chief, his cloak billowing behind him. It would have been an impressive sight, thought Karn, watching him go with grim satisfaction, were it not for the fact that Cador would give the occasional whimper of pain as he put weight on his damaged leg. 27

With the door still swinging, Karn walked over to Alexander. His reign was over. But he stayed his hand. This was not his problem. Doubtless at least a dozen would-be murderers would be in the castle by midnight. Alexander had the looked of a hunted animal in his eyes. By the end of the night, he will have been the hunted animal, and caught been in the snare. Looking down at him slumped on the floor, Karn also swept from the room. He wasn’t going anywhere tomorrow. No prince ordered him to do anything. He took another route back to the living quarters: he could hear Kathryn’s cries echoing down the stone corridors.28

The footsteps grew closer, and Gaspard’s heightened senses picked up the aroma of rotting meat. His eyes widened slightly at this. What the hell was coming? His hand rested on his prized katana, the feel of its black mahogany hilt wrapped in ray-fish skin bringing some comfort to him. The shuffle of feet was no more than thirty paces away now. He drew the honed blade out of its dark magnolia wood scabbard, the inscription on the blade gleaming in the afternoon sun filtering through an arrow slit. ‘I was forged for and by thieves’. Gaspard loved this inscription. He had stolen the blade from a guild of thieves two years ago, and upon deciphering the inscription had laughed aloud. Thieves stealing from thieves. 29

The footsteps were now almost at the door.30

Gaspard tightened his grip on his blade, although it was not noticeable. The door’s bolt was opened from the outside. Strangely, he could no longer hear anything. Everything had gone quiet. There was no birdsong, no wind. Nothing. This loss of his sense scared him more than anything else. It was as if the world had grinded to a halt. Conscious of the change, Gaspard slowed his breathing, made sure his feet were planted firmly on the ground, and re-arranged his grip on his katana. 31

The door swung open violently, slamming into the stony frame. Whoever or whatever it was seemed unsure of how to proceed. It had paused outside the doorway. Gaspard quickly calculated the situation. He was in a room with an unknown would-be enemy blocking the only escape route. All in all, it wasn’t looking too great. He had no idea if this person knew he was in the room, but would have to assume that he or she did. Taking this in his stride, he stood out from the shadows, his blade showing clearly in his right palm. 32

“Who’s disturbing my sleep?” He challenged, glaring out into the void beyond the room. 33

His eyesight adjusted to the darkness, and what he saw made his blood run cold. 34

A figure swathed in darkness stood proudly on the stairs, a torn and bloodstained cloak hiding his features. He had an aura surrounding him, a rich mixture of deep crimson and coal black. His face was hidden under a hood, and in his left hand, a chain with a vicious, stained blade on the end. A river of blood cascaded down the stairs below him, running between his worn black boots from the diced corpse of a guard posted outside the room. The guard’s facial expression was unrecognisable.35

Even though Gaspard could not see this monster’s face, he could feel his gaze burning upon him. At a loss for words, he could do nothing but stare, cursing himself inwardly for not having something clever, or heroic, to say. The thing that had once been a man took one step forward, his cloak of darkness flowing, with tendrils reaching for Gaspard. Gaspard raised his katana, mentally shoving his fear to the back of his mind. It would only hinder him if he hoped to live. His normal feeling of superiority to everyone had been abolished. He felt like a jester, clad in the turquoise light fabric from the feast. It would offer no protection against this thing’s chained scythe. For the second time in recent times, he did not trust his voice enough to speak without quavering. The man slowly and deliberately brought up his fearsome weapon, preparing to send Gaspard into the next world. Seeing this, Gaspard lunged with his katana, making it look like he was going to make a direct thrust but actually intending to feint at the last moment. His fear had been replaced by a curious euphoria: he saw the battle as no more than a normal training session in the courtyard with Frederick in times gone bye. Just that he was facing some sort of wraith instead of a human.36

Whoever the wraith was, he didn’t move as Gaspard lunged, and didn’t flinch when he feinted. He took one step back, and before Gaspard could launch an effective defence brought the chain whipping across his face. The blade on the end swung around his neck, twisting and winding over and over again until it was tight. His throat tight, Gaspard could only watch in horror as he began to lose consciousness from lack of oxygen. But just as his sight darkened, he saw the weapon disintegrate into a dark grey smoke, and he collapsed to the floor.37

The wraith turned his back on the young man gasping for breath, and was about to extinguish his young life when he felt a familiar force drift from the man. He turned his head to look at him. 38

“Gaspard…” He rasped. And with the breeze, he was gone. 39