Heart of the Serpant
Heart of the Serpent Written by Ryan Spence Under a new moon, in a city named Marin, a cloaked figure in black moved silently, stalking a swordsman oblivious to his presence. He is very careful to keep far enough away from his prey so that he is not seen. Yet he keeps his mark in his sight at all times. He is waiting patiently for his prey to turn off the main road and into a dark alley where he could make his move, away from the prying eyes of local drunks and homeless, laying about the streets, eager for anyway to make money, like informing the guards off a murderer. The oblivious swordsman turned into an alley, clueless of his murderous shadow. The cloaked man smiled an evil smile of success. After two nights of information gathering, and a night of stalking wasted, the man had finally made his last mistake. The murderer closed the gap in distance between him and his prey as silent as death. I am death, the evil man thought to himself, his death. He slowly and carefully removed his black dagger from its sheath. He had come too far to alert the swordsman of his presence by a careless screech of a blade being drawn. The swordsman was the best in the country, maybe even all of Europe and he could dispatch the assassin without even breaking a sweat. That single reason is what drew the cloaked man to him in the first place, the challenge, to test all of his skills and either succeed or die. He was ambitious. At first he was only a petty thief, but as his skills improved, his trade became darker. The murderer approached the final distance carefully, being sure that his shadow didn�t alert the swordsman, for due to the bright candles burning on street posts, it was cast ahead of him making an easy approach impossible. He advanced directly behind the man causing his shadow to be cast on his victims back and out of his field of vision. He slowed and left ten feet between him and his prey. Any closer and he could feel my presence behind him, he thought, but that�s part of the challenge. He readied his knife so that he had a secure hold on it, and, holding his breath, silently charged the man, who by now was just about at the alley�s end. He caught the man completely by surprise and drove his dagger between his shoulder blades, then pushed the man down to the ground, allowing the man�s own weight to free his dagger. The swordsman hit the ground hard, with his life-blood streaming down his back, invisible in the dark night sky. On the ground he fought the pain to stay conscious, for not to do so was certain death. He had not seen his killer�s face but he had to before he died. The swordsman moved his head and upper body ever so slightly towards his attacker, causing an anguish so great that his former pain seemed like a mere sliver in comparison. But the swordsman had trained all of his life in the art of battle, and learned early on how to control his pain, so that if he was ever wounded in the mist of the melee he could continue to fight his opponent, and not drop his guard. Streamlined in the dim light that was seeping in from the street that was just a heartbeat way, the swordsman saw his murderer�s face. The man was smiling enjoying every moment of suffering the swordsman lived through. As the assassin brought his dagger down on his victim�s neck, he laughed, a laugh of pure evil, and walked off. In a dark corner of that very same alley, a figure crouched against the back of a building, staring at the scene in silent horror. Had he brought his sword he would have saved the swordsman, but he was unarmed, and utterly defenseless. When the murderer thrust his dagger through his victims neck laughing that evil laugh, his whole body shook in terror at what he had witnessed. When the assassin had walked out of sight he ran to the fallen swordsman�s side and desperately tried to find if there was any life left in him. When he found none, he buried his face in his hand, unaware of the blood. When they touched, and he felt the blood on his face, he shook violently and blacked out. He awoke to the sound of approaching guardsmen, yet even though they could not see him he did not run. He was confident that justice would prevail. When the guards turned into the alley and saw him, they drew their swords and charged him without asking any question. He ran for his life. .* * * And so, this is how I died. Stabbed in the back by a hooded coward. Hardly the kind of death I imagined during my life. I always thought I would die a hero on the battlefield, facing my opponent in the song of battle, steel on cold steel. Now that I think about I, since all I can do is think, there are no such things as heroes. There are only disillusioned men like me, who think that they fight for the side of good and that their superiors have a noble cause. Yet they are all pawns, in a game. They are caught up in the petty rivalries of men, like them, who deem themselves their superior, and throw their lives away on a whim. They are thought of as fodder, easily replaceable men, to be dispatched as a hollow threat by their masters, against their master�s rivals. The thought that I myself was manipulated like that makes me sick, or would if my body was not rotting next to other poor souls, in a mass grave. That brings me to another question that plagues my mind. Why am I still here on this material realm of the living? Should I not be in some afterlife, basking in paradise, or burning in one of the nine hells? My only explanation is that I have yet to complete a task, carried over from my mortal life. But what? I lived as a simple swordsman, with the clothes on my back, and sword at my thigh. Am I to avenge my own death, since no one else will? If so, how? How could I, a being made up of Astral energies, a being of thoughts without physical self do anything, but let his own mind drive him insane? I am a phantom, a ghost, a lost soul. What could I possibly do... ...Well, I guess I need to start somewhere, so I may as well follow my murderer, and hope to think of something. I just hope that the man who tried to aid me in the alley, however late he was, is not charged with my murder. The poor wretch meant well, but now if he is caught he will be executed. * * * Under the pink and red sky of a sun descending over the horizon, a group of lowly travelers picks their way through a field on the very edge of a farm. They had passed many such akin to this one when they neared the numerous towns and settlements that dotted the countryside, they where traveling. They purposely avoided the main roads, because when traveling along them, a person is almost guarantied to run into trouble. From corrupt officials claiming to work for the emperor charging taxes no honest man could pay, to highwaymen who took your money, just in a different way. They were a ragtag group of people from many different professions, sharing a common goal; to arrive in Florance, Italy, alive and whole. They were allured by the promise of success, the chance to live their dreams, not just to imagine them from their miserable lives. My feet are sore! Complains a pudgy red headed man, wearing a robe that told of his Humanist ideal. He styled himself a man of many talents, but had a keen interest in architecture, and he designed shrines and temples. He also had a tendency of speaking his mind, loudly, and often, making him an ideal philosopher. He is from France. We should retire to an inn this night. I�m sick off sleeping on the cold, wet ground every night! I have not had a good night rest since we started traveling away from the roads! As I explained to you numerous times before, Jean, traveling on the main road is suicide for people like us! Yells Ichtam in frustration. He could barely stay his arm from drawing his sword and removing that annoying mans tongue. Ichtam is a man of average size and height. There is nothing about him that made him stick out in a crowd. He wore a green tunic with a grayish black cape, and kept a long sword sheathed at his side. He is a quiet man who shared his thoughts or feelings with no man, unless asked specifically. He is also bitter and angry at all times, and made a miserable traveling companion. We have no money or goods to barter with. That leaves what you have on your person, and people will gladly kill us to get it! We will sleep under the stars tonight. But, what if it rains! I hate being wet! Jean whines. Barely controlling his anger Ichtam manages to sputter, there is an outcropping of dense trees over there. We will sleep under them. The group silently follows Ichtam to the trees, picks a spot on the ground free of large rocks, and lay down their things. Jean is spurred to action by the cold, and starts a campfire. We will never make it to Florence if we continue to stop this frequently. States Samuel. He is a small man who carried his lute around like a third limb, though he could certainly play it well enough. He is a self-taught musician, who had never lifted a weapon, or had done manly labor in his life. He liked all things musical, and could play any instrument with ease. He could also sing songs that could make a bloodied soldier cheerful, or cause a tough man to weep. He is also very interested in getting to Florence so that he could find work under a rich family, and make enough money to buy professional lessons. He had a habit of saying the most obvious of things. Actually, my little friend, we are making quite good progress. Guilford says, staring at the stars, through breaks in the tree canopy. Guilford is a large man who moved with the grace of a seasoned warrior. He wore simple garments, designed to be practical, not glamorous, as well as a typical long-sword, resting in a faded leather sheath. He is always happy, positive and polite, never complained, and never judged a man. He keeps a careful eye on his surrounding, and is always alert. We should arrive there in a few months. Jean, who is now comfortable lying in a travel sack next to the fire, asks Has anyone ever been to Florence? Lorenzo is a tall lean man who speaks very little. When he does speak, it usually takes a while before he finishes. He is always either daydreaming or sketching. He is young like the rest of the men in the group, but he is serious. He is an artist, and loves what he does. Like the others, he is hoping to get work in Florence. He is sitting next to the fire, his canvas and paint laying beside him. He sighs, and stares into the fire. AI lived there as a child. When I was very young, seven or eight, my family was attacked in our estate by a rival household. We fled for our lives leaving everything behind. Besides the tension among the rich, I remember it as an elegant city. Busy, prosperous, and full of life. My family, the Bussotti, left that city with nothing but the clothing on our backs and moved to Denmark. My father is a merchant who wanted me to take over the family business, but I had always loved art and fled. I am lucky to have met up with you all, otherwise I would have probably died a while ago. There is silence in the air for a while, while they all remembered the things they left behind. Guilford clears his throat and begins to speak, I, too, had to flee my home, but under much different circumstances. I is a general for the army of Marin. I led the army on many successful campaigns. My father is a very kind Duke who cared much for the people. One day, when I returned from another victorious campaign and found out, he was assassinated. Since I was his son, I would have inherited his position. When I tried to enter my castle, I was almost killed by the guards. Someone had taken the position and had ordered my death. I either had to flee or be killed. There was yet another pause. Where do we go from here? Asks Ichtam, breaking the tension. He has finally recovered from his anger. �I believe we cross the River of Vienna tomorrow.� Replies Jean. �I hope we can find a raft, I do so hate being wet.� Guilford shakes his head and says, �we more likely have to cross the river on foot when it gets shallow. Perhaps we shall find a bridge. I�m sure the locals don�t swim across.� �Let us stop this mindless chatter and get some sleep.� Ichtam says, yawning. �Would it not be wise for us to catch an early slumber since we awaken early next morn?� He stood up and walked to a spot farther from the fire, lies down and falls asleep. Looking up through the leaves, as Guilford did earlier, Jean sighs and said, �Ah, the stars shining bright and true. It seems they know all of a man�s thoughts. Whenever a man dies, a shooting star is born. Tis tears from an angel, weeping for the fallen man. Whenever you see a falling star, you know that directly below it, some unfortunate soul has met his demise�. This time it was Jean�s turn to fall asleep, and he did as soon as his head settled on the ground. The others could tell because he started to snore loudly. Looking down on Jean with envy, Lorenzo, too, retired for the night, though without a word. �Jean has an interesting philosophy, does he not?� Samuel asks, never intending to have a reply. �He is, as a philosopher, somewhat dizzying in intellect.� This makes Guilford raise an eyebrow. �You have met many philosophers?� Samuel smiles, and stared into the fire. �My father was a man of great intellect. He knew many brilliant men. The few who always talked in circles, he came to call the philosophers. You see, Guilford, I was born a... an illegitimate son of a powerful Lord. Although my mother was only a servant in his home, he took me under his wing. He accepted me as his own child. Of course he had other children, and was married. So I was brought up in all, respects, a servant, like my mother. Only I had a good education, and as you can see, I took a shine to music. Like you I was driven from my home. Someone found out about my heritage, and my father had to either deny everything about me, or loose everything. I was thrown out, with only my Lute. � �Ichtam was right.� Samuel says, getting up. �We should get some sleep� �Indeed so he was. You should retire as well. We leave as soon as the suns rays first pierce the blackness of the night sky. I just need to collect my thoughts.� Guilford replies. �Good night to you then.� Samuel says over his shoulder, as he makes his way to where he previously placed his pack, and lay down. Guilford wanders away from camp and stops when he could clearly see the sky. He kneels down and prays. * * * In the blackness of night, a lone figure runs through a forest, never looking back the way he came. He trips frequently on the harsh underbrush, but always gets back up. Hounds are barking loudly in the direction he is running from, and torchlight can be seen as well. With each bark, the figure runs more frantically. He runs without any grace through the forest, toward the sound of a river. He knows that the only way he will evade the hounds is through the water, where they cannot track his scent. After minutes that seem like days he makes it to the river. The barking is closer now, as is the torchlight. He begins walking into the water. * * * Around the cold, charred remains of a campfire, all but Guilford are just awakening from a hard nights rest. Guilford is just wandering back into camp, going over to greet the tired faces that are his companions. �A good morn to you all.� Guilford says happily. He had awoken before the giant yellow jewel, which is the sun, crested the horizon to begin another day of life-giving warmth. He had prayed as he had the night before, thanking the Lord they had made it this far without incident. Tired grunts are all he is given in return to his greeting. Ichtam has already packed what few things he carries. He says I believe we should resume our travels. That is unless you all wish to travel under the heat of a fully risen Sun. Jean, just now crawling out of his travel sack looks up with sleep-swollen eyes. When he tries to stand up, his stomach emits a mighty roar. He looks at Guilford and asks, �is there anything to be eaten around here?� �Nothing that I could find,� Replies Guilford, shaking his head. �I am hungry as well.� Says Lorenzo. �There must be something for us to eat, have you checked for berries?� �I�m afraid so, there is nothing.� Guilford replies. On his face he has a look of concern for his companions. �We will continue searching as we travel.� �Our journey will only seem lengthened if we have nothing to calm our hunger.� Jean moaned. �You know the saying about hunger; never skip a meal for it may be your last.� �Guilford has already said there is nothing to eat.� Snapped Ichtam. �Either stay here complaining and starve, or pack up your infernal belongings and start walking!� Jean, mumbling under his breath picks the option, in which there is the possibility of getting food. The five travelers start the long day�s journey. As usual Jean is trailing a distance behind the rest. Ichtam leads, keeping a wary eye out for any signs of trouble, while Guilford is walking in between the group and Jean trying to watch their backs as much as possible. Only a few minutes after they pass a bridge that took them across the River Vienna,. Ichtam abruptly stops. Samual, who is walking next in line, walks into him. �What is it Itchtam?� Samuel asks, rubbing his nose. Pointing toward the river, which now lay on their right, Ichtam says, �I thought I saw something over by the river.� �It�s probably just an animal drinking from the river.� Lorenzo says. Samuel searches the riverside where Ichtam pointed and says, �Lorenzo�s probably right lets just keep mo...� �Wait, I see something as well!� Samuel says alarmed. �And it is definitely not an animal.� �Where do you see it?� Guilford asks. He had walked up behind a preoccupied Samuel, and startled her. �It�s a man hiding in the bushes.� He replies after he punches Guilford in the shoulder for scaring him. Guilford looks, then upon seeing the man yells, �You there! Are you in need of assistance?� �What are you doing?� hisses Ichtam. �There are brigands about and he may be one of them! Do you wish us to be killed?�. �Where did he go?� Guilford asks ignoring Ichtam. �Probably to get his friends.� Ichtam huffs. �No wait! He just ducked.� Exclaims Lorenzo. � Look behind those shrubs.� �Hey! You there, behind the bushes!� Samuel yells, unsure of what else to do. �If you are not a criminal, show yourself!� The man slowly stands up and moves toward the companions. He stumbles at first, like a drunk, but then shakes his head as if trying to wake himself up from some dream. As he nears the group, Ichtam draws his sword, and he freezes, the look fear in his eyes. �Ichtam! Three of the men shout in unison.� Guilford, ever calm, says, �Ichtam as you can see, the man is not holding any weapon. You wouldn�t kill a defenseless man would you?� Ichtam snorts, and staring hatefully at Guilford, he slowly sheaths his sword. Once Ichtam is once again unarmed, Samuel steps toward the still scared man. He asks, �who are you? And why where you hiding down there?� �My name is Ronaldo, sir, and I was just...� the man stops in mid sentence and looks at Ichtam, who is scowling at him. � I was just arising from a nights sleep when I saw you five walking. I thought you meant me harm, so I hid.� �Why would you think we would mean you harm, Donnaldo?� Jean asked curiously. �First, my pudgy little friend, my name is Ronaldo, Ronaldo Mazarelli. I am from Poland. I thought you were sol... brigands.� �Well that�s funny.� Chirps Jean, who had just recently caught up with the others. �We thought you were a brigand as well. As long as you are not though, where, may I ask, are you headed.� �As I said before, I am from Poland.� The man named Ronaldo began. �I do not no this area very well, so I�m afraid the only answer to your question I can give you, is that I�m headed away from here.� �Well then, it would be inhospitable for us not to ask to join you.� Says Jean as he walks to Ronaldo smiling, and shakes his hand. �Besides, these lands are very dangerous for simple people like us. We would be much better off if we traveled together. As the saying goes; There is safety in number, especially if you can out run at least one of your companions.� All but Ichtam, who turns away and shakes his head, chuckle at this. The companions except Ichtam, start to bombard Ronaldo with questions, wanting to know him better. Once the questions cease, Ichtam walks over to Ronaldo and says, �Excuse us for a moment.� Ronaldo, taking the hint, turns around and walks away from the group. �I don�t think inviting him to join us would be in our best interests.� Ichtam says angrily. �Why not?� Samuel, and Lorenzo ask simultaneously, both annoyed at Ichtam excessive rudeness. �You heard what he said did you not?� Ichtam whispers to them. �He is running from something. He is most likely some kind of criminal running from the law.� �What would it concern us if he was?� asks Jean. He didn�t attack us. �He isn�t even armed.� Ichtam shakes his head at this. � He says, you fool, that is his plan! Do you want to be murdered in your sleep? What if he runs off with all of your belongings in the night? Besides, you heard his name, he is Italian not Polish.� Confused, Jean asks, �so what if he isn�t Polish?� Ichtam smiled in victory, glad Jean fell into his trap. He says, �the man told us that he was from Poland, which makes him a liar. Jean, do you trust a man who lies to you the moment you meet him?� Jean sighs. �No I would n...� Guilford interrupts Jean asking, �What did he say his name was?� �Ronaldo Mazarelli.� Lorenzo replies. �This is ridiculous!� Samuel shouts, throwing his arms in the air. �Ichtam, did we not invite you to join us when you where on your own?! Besides, he did not say he was Polish! He said he was from Poland.� �What is the difference?� Ichtam asks. �The difference is this.� Samuel said, becoming quit mad at Ichtam. �He very well may be Italian, just living in Poland. It doesn�t matter, we will invite him to join us.� �My point is this, Samuel.� Ichtam spat in contempt. �It would be very dangerous for us to travel with him. Whatever he is running from may someday catch up with him. And if we are with him when it does...� Samuel interrupted him by whirling away from him, and walking over to a very sad looking Ronaldo. �You are invited to join us, Ronaldo.� As he said these simple words, Ronaldo�s face changes from sorrow, to joy. His face changes yet again, this time to puzzlement �I will not be a burden to you?� he asks �Not at all!� Jean yells in excitement. �Besides you can help us carry supplies.� He drops his sack of things in front of Ronaldo, then quickly turns and runs off before Samuel can scold him for his laziness. The party of six traveled on. Ronaldo always manages to keep a distance from a still fuming Ichtam. He finds sanctuary beside Samuel, since he seemed to be able to keep Ichtam at bay. They traveled until the sun rose fully overhead, and some of the men began to tire. They found a resting spot in a clearing of the small forest they were now traversing through. While the others eat a roasted rabbit, Ronaldo walks to the edge of camp, and sits down on a fallen tree. �You and I are the same.� He says to the fallen tree. �We have both fallen away from our roots. We will never be able to go back to where we spent so long living.� When the others finish their midday meal, Ronaldo re-collects his thoughts and walks back to them. Guilford has been watching Ronaldo since they had began traveling with each other. �You seem familiar somehow.� Guilford says. �As do you,� Ronaldo replies. �I know your face, I just cannot remember from where.� �Have you ever been to Marin, in Poland?� Guilford offers. Ronaldo smiles. �That is my hometown, you know it?� Recollection sparks in Guilfords eyes. �Do I know it?� he laughs,� It is mine as well. Oh, my name is Guilford by the way.� �Guilford!� Ronaldo repeats. He finally remembers where he knows him from. �Do you not remember me? We studied fencing together at the academy.� �I�m sorry, but that was such a long time ago.� Guilford says sadly, being reminded once again of the life he was cheated out of. I�m afraid everything from that time is a haze in my mind. �Do you remember this then?� Ronaldo asks. He lifts up his bangs and reveals a scar, slashed across his forehead. This time Guilfords went slack jawed. � That is what our last duel left you with!� He shakes his head in the amazement of meeting a childhood friend so many years later. �I remember that you gained that scar by insisting we fight with a real sword, saying that if we were to survive in battle, we would need proper training with the proper weapons. It was a shame we were both careless back then. As I recall I swung my sword overhand, and you tried to jab low. I had thought I killed you but you slowly recovered.� �It is good to see you remember.� Ronaldo says. �Would you mind telling me where you all are heading?� �To Italy,� Guilford replies. He sees a look on his childhood friend�s face that bids him to be more specific. �Florence to be exact.� �My father was from Florence.� Ronaldo states. �Though he moved to Poland before I was born.� Unknown to them was that the others where listening to their conversation as well. A dumb grin forms on Jean�s face. He looks to Ichtam and says, �I told you he wasn�t a liar.� �No, you didn�t.� Samuel pointed out. �I was the one who said he may be an Italian living in Poland.� �It matters not.� Lorenzo says to them both. �I�m just glad we have another swordsman with us.� He walks over too the two reunited friend and formally introduces himself. Jean follows quickly behind him. Samuel walks over to the place where Ichtam is mumbling to himself. �You are still not pleased with our decision to travel with Ronaldo?� Samuel guesses. �I don�t trust him.� Ichtam says through a clenched jaw. �Has he told us what his business is? No. Has he told us what crime he has committed? No. How could you possibly trust the man?� �Guilford trusts him.� Samuel says calmly, staring at Ichtam. �Do you not trust Guilford?� �Guilford is a trusting fool.� Ichtam growled, angry with everyone he traveled with. �Besides he has not seen the man in years. Men change.� On the other side of the camp, Guilford and Ronaldo have finally managed to separate themselves from the others. �I feel as though I am not trusted by everyone here.� Ronaldo says to his friend. �Is my presence a disturbance?� �Nonsense, if you are worried about Ichtam stop.� Guilford reassures Ronaldo. �Ichtam is bitter to everyone under normal circumstances. Now that you are with us, he figures you are running from something, and therefore should be left behind to die. But I do understand some of his reasoning, no matter how twisted it is. We would all like to know if you are running from something.� �What if I were running from something?� Ronaldo asks. �Then I would like to know what it is, so that I can help you fight against it.� Guilford says, meaning every word. �I know you are a good man, and would never commit a crime worth such a punishment that you would flee.� �Before I tell you, my friend, promise me, my words will never be echoed by you.� Ronaldo demands. �You have my word.� Guilford promises. �I am accused of the murder of Claudius, son of Carraves.� As Ronaldo says this, he lets out a might sigh, as if he had just rid a massive burden from his back. �I know not if you can remember him. He was a swordsman better than us all.� �He died in a duel?� Guilford asks. �No.� Ronaldo says this with such certainty, such finality that Guilford is startled. �Claudius was murdered by a coward, who came up behind him and repeatedly drove his dagger into his back. I... I had just come out of a tavern, my fifth of the night, and was on my way home. I walked into an alley and fell unconscious in the garbage behind a house. I was awoken hours later by footsteps. I was sober then, with only a headache that could split a boulder in twain. I looked for my sword, but when I couldn�t find it I realized I had left it back at the tavern. Unarmed, I hid. As the man I had heard neared I saw from his clothing and sword that It was Claudius. I had last seen him in a tavern I had visited earlier that night.� Ronaldo stops his story so that he could steady himself. �It all happened so quickly. One moment Claudius is walking, his normal self, then a man in a black cloak appeared from nothingness and drove a dagger through his back. Somehow Claudius still lived. He managed to turn his head towards his attacker, just as the murderer, moved around his body. The man pierced Claudius�s neck with his dagger and let out a laugh, a laugh that no man should be able to make. It was evil, pure evil, and it haunts my dreams still. When the man left I ran over to see if I could aid him but, he was dead, and I became covered in his blood. I fainted. When I awoke, it was again to the sound of footsteps, only this time it was the heavy clink of the city guards steel rimmed boot. Instead of listening to me they tried to kill me. I ran and escaped.� �Did you see the cloaked man�s face?� Guilford asked, grief for his friend stuck in his throat. �Or anything about him that could be recognizable?� �I only know he is of average height and build, and, that laugh.� Ronaldo replies. �What do you plan to do?� Guilford asks. �I will find this man and end his meager cowardly existence.� Ronaldo says, he wipes away a tear that started its descent down his face. �I do not care if it takes all of my life, I will kill him.� * * * Staring at yet another sunrise, Guilford has already packed his things, and has completed his morning rituals. His mind is still racing, trying to fully comprehend what Ronaldo has told him. He knows Ronaldo is telling him the truth, but he is still scared for his companions. If Ronaldo were accused of Claudius�s murder, there would be massive rewards for his head, and for those helping him. Guilford doesn�t know what to do. Should he break his pledge to Ronaldo, breaking his trust in the process, or tell his friends of the danger which awaits them in Ronaldo�s company. We are a large ways away from Marin, he tells himself, they will never find us. I will keep my promise to Ronaldo. If we run into trouble I will protect all of my companions with my life, he falls to his knees, this I swear. He arises from his knees and walks back to camp. As Guilford returns to where the others had slept, he finds that most have already awaken. �Hail, and well met.� Ronaldo greets. �Guilford, it is good to see that you haven�t changed in the years we�ve been apart. You�re still an early riser.� �He�s always up to greet the sun.� Lorenzo says, while he finishes packing up his paints. �It�s the brightest part of my day.� Guilford says proudly. �I�m surprised that such a talented artist like yourself, Lorenzo, has overlooked something so beautiful.� �Funny, I always thought high-sun was the brightest part of the day.� Lorenzo jokes. �Besides, I cannot manage myself out of bed that early, let alone paint.� Ichtam clears his throat loudly to get everyone�s attention. �As always, I�ll remind you all to continue moving as quickly as possible. A small delay in our travels now, may not cost us much now, but in the end it may cost us weeks.� �Than we should be on our way then?� Ronaldo asks. The group begins their ongoing journey, but soon stop when a loud growl is heard behind them. Both Ichtam and Guilford swing around, drawing their swords. They re-sheath them when they see what made the noise. Back at their camp Jean stands still with his arms crossed. �Was that what I think it was?� sighs Guilford �Guilford,� Jean asks, �did you not find food on your morning wander? I am so terribly hungry. I know not how long I can go on like this.� �You ate a whole rabbit last evening feast!� Ichtam yells. �You had more than anyone else here! You would do everyone a favor by just staying here!� He spins around and continues walking. �I found some berries but I was going to save for this days trip, but I will give you them now.� Guilford offers, giving the hungry man a cloth pouch from off his belt. �Now quickly prepare yourself for today�s walk. We should not fall to far away from the others.� At the very front of the party, Ichtam slows down and waits for Lorenzo who is next in line behind him. �Lorenzo, what is your opinion of that Ronaldo character?� He asks. �He seems a decent man.� Lorenzo replies. �He seems so, yes.� Ichtam repeats, �But even if he is a decent man, he is still running from someone. And if he is running from the law, it is dangerous for us to travel with him.� �Why do you say that?� Lorenzo asks. �We have committed no crime.� �But we have.� Ichtam says slyly. �We have kept a fugitive hidden. This alone is a crime punishable by death. Do you think harboring him is worth your life?� �It is very likely that if anyone is in fact pursuing him, they will ever find him.� Lorenzo says confidently. �Besides, we have already harbored him with us. Therefore, according to you, we are all guilty.� The two finish their argument, as the rest of their companions catch up with them. �Come now, men,� Jean says grinning, staring directly at Ichtam. �We should really hurry up so that we do not arrive late in Florence.� Ichtam scowls at Jean and reaches for his sword. Before he could draw it on the little Frenchman, an arrow thuds into a tree behind him. Everyone turns with a start at the direction it came from. A band of heavily armed men on large horses is ahead of them, blocking the path they are using. Ronaldo who is near the back of the companions talking with Guilford, sees them and jumps desperately into a thick bush, moments before he is in turn seen. Guilford, understanding that these men are quite possibly after his friend, runs toward the others, sword already drawn.. �We are looking for a murderer! Sheath your swords until we check each and every one of you,� a large man bellows at the group. He looks at them all, mentally comparing their faces with the description he had been told earlier. With a nod of his head, he orders another man over to the group for a closer look. He does not find the man with them. �We have reason to believe he is traveling with a small group, like yours.� He gives the group the murderer�s description. Color begins to fade from both Jean and Lorenzo�s faces as they recognize the man described as the murderer. �Be advised that he is to be considered extremely dangerous. If you see anyone fitting his description please, inform my patrol. We will be searching these woods. Oh, you all may continue on your way.� As the man in command turns around to resume his search, the man he sent to look at the companions passes by Ichtam. Ichtam discreetly slips him a note. No one else notices. The soldier with the note rubs to his departing commander and gives him the note. The commander unfolds and reads it. �Halt, knaves!� He yells. The companions freeze. �Kale, check those bushes.� He points to another one of his men, then to the bushes behind Guilford. The man walks around an unmoving Guilford and checks the bushes. �Here sir, I�ve found him!� The soldier grabs Ronaldo and pulls him out of the bushes, and onto the trail. �Arrest him!� The commander screams, then turns to face the others. �And these as well. Tell me fools, do you know the punishment for harboring a criminal?� �We do sir.� Lorenzo manages to say. He is visibly shaking. The soldier holding Ronaldo starts bringing him to his commander. Guilford sees this and rushes to his friend�s aid. �We will not go without a fight!� He yells. �Release that man and arm yourself!� The soldier does just that, pushing Ronaldo towards the charging Guilford. Guilford nimbly dodges his friend, and engages the soldier. Kale, eager to please his commander, swipes his broad sword at Guilford mid-section, Guilford easily parries the clumsy swipe, and returns a swipe of his own directly at the soldiers head. Kale manages to get his sword up in time to redirect the powerful blow but not stop it, the sword swoops over his head, taking his off coif. Kale jumps back in fright, knowing his opponent to be an experienced swordsman. Guilford rushes the man and strikes at him with another overhand swing. This time the soldier does manage to plant his feet well enough to hold his ground, and stop Guilford�s strike. Steel grinds on steel as the two swords clash together, the two swords lock. Guilford kicks Kale in the thigh, hard. The soldier grunts in pain and falls to the ground. Guilford rushes toward the downed soldier and raises his sword for a strong overhand chop he hopes will end the battle. Instead Kale recovers and cowardly punches Guilford below the belt. Guilford grunts in surprise and falls to the ground, dropping his sword. Both men recover quickly, and Kale swings at the unarmed Guilford as he gets up. Guilford falls back, evading the blow, and rolls over to his own sword. As he rolls Kale chops at him again, and this time he takes off Guilford�s left ear. Guilford growls in pain as he grabs his sword. Kale tries another swipe at Guilford but gets too close. Guilford punches him in the face, breaking his nose with a loud pop, and Kale stumbles backward. Guilford slashes at Kale, trying to take off his head, but sheer dumb luck saves the soldier life when, still dazed, he trips over his own feet and lands on his rump. The sound of a sword splitting the air above his head has a sobering effect on Kale though, and he returns to his feet quickly. Guilford, with his emotions flooding through his mind, had over extended his swing, and Kale, now simply trying to survive, thrusts his sword at the recovering Guilford. The sword pierces below Guilford�s ribs and stops, wedged on Guilford�s spine. Kale tries to remove his sword, as Guilford, still standing begins to shake violently. Kale pulls on his sword again and it is pulled free. Blood sprays from Guilford�s wound, soaking Kale, before Guilford collapses. He hits the ground hard, never again to arise. Four of his companions cry out in shock. Ichtam though begins to laugh, a laugh of evil. He is smiling widely at Guilford�s corpse, taking pleasure in the moment he had waited for, ever since he first began to travel with him and the others. Ronaldo peals his eyes away from his friend�s dead body at the sound of the laugh. He pales and his feet buckle. The soldier commander praises Kale for his obedience in following orders and not getting killed. He then orders another of his men to tie up the remaining companions. All glare with hatred at Ichtam who is conversing with the commander. �You coward,� Samuel yells angrily at Ichtam. � You will die for what you have done.� Ichtam smiles evilly at him and slowly, deliberately, walks over to where his Lute lay. He picks it up and offers it to the commander, who smiles at it, thinking of the amount he might make from selling it. Samuel shakes in rage, and is pulled away with the rest of her companions by two of the soldiers. The commander and Ichtam each mount a pair of horses, which were waiting in a nearby clearing. They both ride out of sight. * * * That very same night, the companions sit in line, still tied together. They are in a valley, void of life. Skeletons litter the ground, reminding all who travel through this area what happens to the careless. The air is cold and the wind howls. One of the soldiers sleeps openly, just out of their reach, bundled in travel bags he had earlier taken from the companions. The second guard, who was supposedly keeping watch, had fallen asleep as well. None of the companions were asleep. They are not cold, for their own rage and hatred for Ichtam keeps them warm. �How could Ichtam have done this to us?� ponders Jean. �The man�s allegiances obviously go to the people in the better position.� States Lorenzo. �How can you two speak so casually about that snake?� Samuel fumes. �He betrayed us, and alerted the commander of Ronaldo�s presence. And this caused Guilford to defend Ronaldo getting killed!� �He betrayed us, yes. But how do you know he alerted the soldiers to Ronaldo�s presence?� asks Lorenzo. � That is as easy to explain as it is obvious.� Samuel began. �The commander had already turned around and bidden us a good day, oblivious to Ronaldo. Then the soldier, who had been ordered to search around us ran to the commander with a letter. Tell me, Lorenzo, did you give him the letter?� �No, I most certainly did not.� Lorenzo quickly states. �But how does tha...� �Jean did you?� Samuel asks, interrupting Lorenzo. �No, of course I did not.� Jean says defensively. �Well then,� Samuel says,�I doubt that Ronaldo turned himself in, and there is no way Guilford did it, since he tried to save Ronaldo from capture. That leaves only, Ichtam.� He says his name with such contempt. The others cringe expecting the guards to awaken. The three talking, had not noticed Ronaldo until now. He is silent, as he had been since their capture. Only now, unlike earlier, he is shaking. �What is it, Ronaldo?� Jean asks. �That... that laugh,� Ronaldo sputters. �I remember that laugh.� �Are you sure this is for us to hear?� Lorenzo asks. �Please, knowledge must be shared.� Jean urges. �Ichtam... he� he,� Ronaldo begins to twitch uncontrollably, then abruptly stops. �He was the one who killed Claudius. The man who I was accused of murdering.� �This cannot be...� argues Jean, but is again interrupted by Samuel. �But it can, for Ichtam joined us only days before we met Ronaldo,� He says. �The man never told us of his past. He would always change the subject by saying things like We should continue moving.� And he even came close to harming Jean.� �Yes, I remember that,� recalls Jean, �his eyes were so cold, he may have killed me if you had not interfered.� �This man has killed two of my friends and I will avenge them both.� Ronaldo vows suddenly. * * * When I first began to follow my murderer, the man who I now know is named Ichtam, I never imagined that all that has happened, could. I simply followed him, hoping to find some means to kill him. I now know that Ronaldo Mazarelli is that means. I first thought the man a simple beggar, who simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. I could not have been more wrong. I remember him and Guilford from the academy, though I never paid them much heed. Then I was cocky, and didn�t wish to be seen with people whose skills with the sword were so much inferior to mine. That attitude left me with no friends during my time there. But my mind drifts. I know not how long I can stay sane, so I will assist Ronaldo, and his friends in any way I find. They must survive so that justice, proper justice, can be served. * * * The companions had traveled the majority of the day heading due north, out of the forest and back into civilization; corrupt, criminal, and completely disillusioned civilization. They are all exhausted for they did not catch a wink of sleep the previous night, but they don�t care, they are just happy to be out of the graveyard that they camped in. They all suffered on the march, but none as much as Jean. He had never gone a full day without food until now, and had increasing trouble keeping up with the quick pace set but the soldiers. Being last in the line didn�t help him either, whenever he stumbled it was easy for the soldier in the rear to hit him with the flat of his blade until he recovered and resumed the march. This did not only happen when he stumbled though, sometimes it was because he moved to slow, or others it was just because the soldier had a heart of gold, cold and hard. The death march continued late into that night, until they encountered a small settlement. The soldiers, are now tired from the walk as well and wish to make use of the towns many services. On the outskirts of the town, the soldiers run into a small shed on a farmer�s field. The shed was likely used to store equipment so the men working the fields did not have to go back to the house to get them. Now it is empty, as barren as the house on the far side of the field. Both soldiers figure that either the farmer found his land useless or he and his family was taken by raiders, and sold. Neither really cares which the case was and they hastily untie each prisoner and throw them into the blackness of the shed. Upon closing the door the younger soldier finds an old lock and strapped to the wall of the shed with thin rope. He unhooks the lock and attaches it to the door, effectively securing the door. Wanting only to relax at the town, the younger soldier spins around tries to run toward it, only to be stopped by an iron hard hand on his shoulder. He turns his head to see that the hand belongs to his senior officer. The older soldier knows better than to leave prisoners unguarded and orders the younger soldier to stay and guard the shed. At first the younger man argues, but he is given an ice-cold look by the older soldier, and is further persuaded when the man reaches for his sword. The thought of a painful death quickly changes the young soldier�s plans for the night and he generously offers to stay and guard the prisoners. The older man smiles and walks toward the town, leaving his inferior to shiver in the night�s cold. His trip is as much business as it is pleasure though for he was ordered by his commander back in the forest to find a settlement and have the prisoners executed as soon as the mayor would allow. Since the people loved all events and festivals, especially executions, he figures the executions will come slightly after daybreak. �Just so there are no confusions later on,� he tells the young soldier this as well, then turns and heads toward the town. * * * Once again none of the companions slept, except Jean who collapsed from exhaustion the moment he was thrown into the make shift prison. They heard the soldiers argue outside the shed, and gasped when they heard the soldiers� plans for them next morn. The shed is dark but moonlight seeps through the cracks in the high ceiling bathing the men in a dreamlike glow. �Execution at daybreak.� Lorenzo says, accepting fate. �At least we will not be in this prison long enough to be starved to death.� �You three would not be here if it were not for me.� Ronaldo says. �Now, for your kindness you shall be executed alongside me.� �Ronaldo, we would have insisted you join us even if you had told us you were being pursued.� Samuel replies. �I will find a way for us to escape.� Ronaldo says confidently. �I will not have more innocent people die because I do not act.� �Innocent people like you, Ronaldo?� Samuel asks. �How do you intend to escape?� Lorenzo asks. �Even if we find a way out of this shed, we will surly be seen by the soldier guarding us.� Ronaldo walks over to the door and presses his ear against it. He lifts his arm, silencing the others and listens. After a few seconds he turns to his companion. The soldier sleeps. He says positively. �But he shall wake soon,� Moans Lorenzo. He has completely given up all hope. �It�s hopeless, were are doomed.� �Will you shut up!� snaps Samuel. �And do something useful, like waking Jean!� Lorenzo grumbles, but turns around and swats Jean in the chest. Jean awakens with a start. �Escaping won�t be easy, Ronaldo.� Samuel says realistically. �They took Guilford�s sword, and they padlocked the door. To make matters worse, this shed is actually quite stable.� �What�s going on?� Jean moans. �Don�t you start too!� Warns Samuel. �We are planning our escape.� Ronaldo tells him, ignoring Samuels�s outburst. �Escape is impossible,� Lorenzo groans. �You heard the lock they put on the door.� �Anything is possible, Lorenzo,� Ronaldo says. * * * In the time I�ve been in this state, I have learned how to do things with my mind. This is important since the man I have chosen to avenge me will soon be put to death. Ronaldo has not given up hope, and is still confident he will escape. I must help him before he loses that confidence. Luckily for him and his companions the key is still hanging on the wall, and the soldier is asleep. * * * On the outside of the shed the hanging key begins to shake. It slowly is lifted off its hook and brought, seemingly on its own accord, through the air toward the lock. The key lifts to slide cleanly into the keyhole on the lock. It stays in it for a time, then turns. The lock pops open and falls to the ground beside the sleeping soldier. The sound of the heavy lock falling is enough to awaken the soldier. Still groggy from his slumber he stands and walks over to the door. * * * �Did anyone hear that?� Jean asks suddenly. �Hear what?� Samuel asks. �The lock,� Jean says, barely controlling his excitement, �It�s opened!� �You heard this?� Ronaldo asks. �Yes I did, I heard something hit the ground.� Jean says completely sure of himself. �You lie,� Lorenzo accuses, �Escape would never come that easily. I believe you are so desperate, you�ve turned delusional.� �I tell you no lie!� Jean argues. � I heard it fall just as surly as I stand before you. As surly as the stars hang in the night sky. As surly as the wind moves through the land. As surly as...� �Enough Jean!� Samuel yells exasperated with the philosopher. �As much as I would like to believe you, Jean, I cannot. The idea is just not possible.� Frustrated with his companion�s lack of confidence in him, Jean walks to the back of the shed, and then runs at the door. Upon his considerable girth colliding against it, the door bursts open. The dreary soldier, who is standing in front of the door, is hit fully by it and knocked back onto the ground. He blacks out before he lands. The three other men in the shed stare slack-jawed at the turn of events and quickly evacuate the shed, apologizing to Jean. Ronaldo, who is the last to leave, searches the unconscious guard, and takes his sword. The four men run away from the town as fast as they are able, determined to reenter the forest, and not to be captured again. * * * That very same night, the soldier regains consciousness and runs to the town to tell his superiors of the escape. He figures the older soldier is at the local tavern and tries to locate it. The tow�s layout confuses him, though, and he is lost in a dark alley behind the town hall. He tries to remain calm, telling himself that the news of the escape must be reported this night, but his thoughts freeze when he feels someone behind him. �Who�s there?� The soldier whimpers. �You have a message. � The cloaked man demands. �I wish to hear it.� The guard turns and sees the man standing half in the light and half in the darkness. The man looks familiar to him but he doesn�t know why. �The prisoners, they have escaped.� He says. �What do you mean they escaped!� The man snaps. �They... they have fled the town.� The soldier manages to reply. He wishes he had his sword on him. AA short time ago they escaped the shed from which they were being held. A fight ensued between them and I, but they were four and I one. They knocked me unconscious and took my sword.� Even though the soldier is scared, he still knows better than to tell the truth. Saying the lock undid itself and that he was sleeping would make him look not only an idiot, but also, knowing the prisoner�s importance, he would be flayed alive. �Thank you for the information,� the man says turning around. �No matter how made up it was.� �Wait sir,� the soldier says, now remembering where he recognizes the man from. �Your name is Ichtam, is it not?� The cloaked man stops and sighs. �You are a fool.� He turns around and walks into the light. His eyes are cold, but there is humor written on his lips, forming a grim that strike the soldier as evil. I know you are a fool, but I thought you would know better than to try to remember me. Ichtam slowly draws a black dagger, and advances on the scared soldier. Instinctively, the soldier reaches to his scabbard, but find it empty. He curses his foolishness and backs slowly, afraid to turn his back on the man advancing toward him. �You wouldn�t hurt an unarmed man, would you?� The stupid guard asks hopefully. His only response is a laugh so evil it made him freeze in his tracks. He swallows hard, and is brutally slashed across his stomach. His guts spill out onto the ground below him and he falls. All of this was silent except for the laughter of Ichtam. Ichtam knows his former companions will run toward the forest, hoping to find cover. On his way out of town he steals a black stallion from the stables and races to where he believes they will later pass by. He is determined to set an ambush and kill them all, so they will never have a chance to expose him. * * * The companions in their haste to escape forgot about having to cross the valley of bones. They ware rather unkindly reminded though, when Jean steps on a bone that he had thinks to be a rock. The bone breaks with a loud crack that stops all four of the fugitives. �Not here!� Jean whines. � Of all the places we pass by, why here!� �If you complain less and walk more, we should be out of this valley of death by sun fall.� Ronaldo says looking at the sky. Jean takes the advice and walks so much faster he passes the others by. They continue on, walking over the bones of what looks like, hundreds of different animals. The skeletons grow more numerous as they walk deeper into the valley, and eventually the companions have a hard time walking around the bones. As they approach a pile of what they think is rocks, Ronaldo calls for a halt. Jean, still leading is the first to stop. He is aware that there may be danger, so he runs back to where the others are standing. �What is it?� Samuel asks. �Something feels wrong,� Ronaldo says mysteriously. He draws his sword and cautiously approaches the mound of rocks ahead of them. �You three seek shelter, I�ll investigate the rocks.� As Ronaldo approaches the rocks, he sees that they are not rocks at all, but a pile of large bones. He stops moving when he hears the laughter. Ichtam steps out from behind the bones laughing in sick glee. �You are ever the fool,� He says, and then asks. �Did you not think you would be followed?� �Of course I knew w...� Ronaldo begins to speak, but is interrupted. �You knew,� Ichtam repeats, �Yet you traveled on the most predictable route. You all are fools.� �You have killed or hurt all who I am close to, and for that I will kill you!� Ronaldo yells, his voice full of emotion. He draws his sword and charges Ichtam. Ichtam draws his own sword just in time to fend of Ronaldo�s first strike, which was aimed for his thigh. Ronaldo follows the swipe with a powerful two handed blow meant to take of Ichtam�s head. Ichtam blocks the strike but grunts and steps back due to the force of the blow. As Ronaldo raises his sword for another strike, Ichtam backs away out of Ronaldo�s reach. �You fight like someone I knew,� Ichtam taunts, �I believe it was a man who�s back ran into my dagger.� Ichtam smiles at his own mirth and begins to chuckle. �I�ll kill you!� Ronaldo screams. He prepares to charge Ichtam again, but is forced back as Ichtam rushes him. Ichtam swings his sword over his head and brings it down in a heavy vertical arc, meant to split Ronaldo�s skull. Ronaldo grunts as the two swords meet, but he holds his ground. The swords shriek as they collide but become locked. Hoping Ronaldo is defenseless, Ichtam draws a black dagger from his belt and thrusts is at Ronaldo�s gut. Ronaldo manages to grab Ichtam�s wrist, stopping the dagger a hairs width away from him. Icham curses Ronaldo and drops his useless dagger. He puts all of his strength into his right arms, which still held his locked sword. He moved his sword in a quick circle, causing Ronaldo to lose his grip on his own sword and send it flying through the air. Ichtam�s smile broadens, thinking he has won, but before he can swing his sword at his now unarmed opponent, Ronaldo jumps back and runs for his weapon, which lay on the skull of long dead creature. Ichtam runs after him and slashes at his back, but he drops and rolls the rest of the way toward his sword, causing Ichtam to be pulled forward after his sword as it meets no resistance. Ronaldo jumps to his feet with his sword in hand and slashes Ichtam�s chest. Ichtam jumps back, but Ronaldo�s sword still cuts through his thin doublet and parts his skin. Ichtam howls in pain from the minor wound, but blocks another strike meant to take off his arm. Before Ronaldo can swing again, Ichtam thrusts toward his chest. Ronaldo blocks it, but the move puts him back on his heels. Ichtam swings at his arm and connects. There is a grating sound as his sword rams into bone, but Ronaldo screaming soon replaces it. Ronaldo kicks Ichtam square in the chest, causing him to scream as Ronaldo�s boot impacts his wound. Ichtam stumbles back, but quickly recovers and hacks repeatedly at Ronaldo, holding his sword with both hand for more power. Ronaldo barely manages to deflect the blows with only one hand. He does this for what seems to him like days, bringing aside blows that could easily kill him. Some came close, cutting the air next to his head, but he managed to go unscathed. Ichtam began to tire soon, and his attacks came less frequently. Ronaldo uses this and runs back to where they began the battle. Ichtam follows but at a much slower pace than before. Ronaldo drops his sword and picks up Ichtam�s dagger. Ichtam smiles not seeing the dagger, and yet again believing he had won. Ichtam continued running at Ronaldo and raised his sword high over his head, holding again with both hand. Ronaldo, saw the area Ichtam�s hold on the sword left unguarded and rushed him, dagger leading the way. Before Ichtam could bring down his sword, Ronaldo dagger pierced his chest and was almost driven in to the hilt. Ichtam is so shocked by the turn of events he doesn�t feel the pain in his chest. He looks down though, and sees his own dagger impaling him. He slowly brings his head up and stares at Ronaldo, surprised that the man had beaten him. Ronaldo pushes the dagger again, driving the blade farther in, and causing Ichtam to cough up blood. Ronaldo continues to hold onto the dagger until Ichtam collapsed, yanking the dagger from Ronaldo�s hand. Ronaldo turns back and walks in the direction of his friend. They run from their hiding spot and run toward him. They meet in the middle. Samuel is the first to notice Ronaldo�s arm and his cloak to bandage it. �Is he dead?� Jean asks hopefully. �Yes,� Ronaldo replies, �he is dead. But let us not discuss the matter. We should continue on our way to Florence.� He doesn�t wait for an answer and just begins to walk. The others follow behind him. * * * And so my death has been avenged, and I can feel myself begin to dissipate. I will say that the four companions will make it to Florence, and live out their dreams. But like everywhere else, there is never just peace, love, and happiness, and good things never last forever.
