Arlet drove them through the night once more, pushing the carriage hard. Too hard. These roads were pot marked and deeply rutted, ill maintained and hazardous to travelers. but they were so close to safety. Thoughts of reaching the obsidian walls of home is what most likely contributed to Liam''s downfall.


    A horn sounded in the young hours of the new day, summoning outriders to the trail. Two horns answered in kind, three bands were galloping towards the carriage of three escaped criminals. Close, and growing hotter every second. Thud came from the carriage window.


    "My lord, they''ve found us. I hear the horns approaching from our rear and ahead. We will not escape them with a carriage. Sir, my deepest apologies, but I cannot fight sixty cavaliers alone. My death will buy you nothing here." Called Arlet.


    "Good! Because I have no intentions of selling it!" Snapped Liam, knowing what Arlet intended.


    He opened the carriage door and began tossing odds and ends out. There were far too many potatoes in here anyways. No one needed this much fiber, not even a horse. Nyota eyed him nervously, not following his intentions. Tail flicking with each bag of lost food. But Liam would not stop until he''d removed half the carriage''s weight.


    "Arlet! Stop the carriage! There, near that farm."


    "Ah, yessir. An excellent plan." Said Arlet, smiling as if he''d invented the idea.


    Which he had. This was not the first time they''d run from a cuckold with blades. Arlet jerked the carriage to a halt, leaping off the bench and dashing into the farmer''s hut, returning a half moment later with a man under his armored wing.


    "Quickly Nyota, we must loose the spares." Said Liam, passing her two shields before hobbling out of the wagon on two spears.


    She obeyed instantly, sticking to him like a curvaceous shadow.


    "-yes that''s right, just deliver this carriage to Greenhaven. On order or Champion Arlet. If you encounter any bandits or constables do not resist them. In fact, I would encourage you to comply fully with any patrols. Even if they want to come back to your farm."


    "Ah, Sir Champion, that''s too simple a task for a gold coin!" Protested the farmer, "Wait, is that why we hid the gold beforehand?"


    "Clever man. Don''t risk yourself for our sake. Leave the heroic last stands for us knights, we need our noble deaths." Winked Arlet.


    The farmer nodded, jowls flapping. Indecision trembled his back, yet the man soon began whippping the reigns, driving the carriage down a side road that eventually led to Greenhaven, the capital city of Greenwood. If such an odd thorp could be classified as any form of city.


    Liam mounted the horse, vision going red from the fire in his groin. Hands steadied his, keeping him in the saddle.


    "My lord?" Nyota asked, young eyes inquiring.


    He nearly lost himself in those clear orbs, there was an honesty there he hadn''t felt in years. So much more intimate than Sarah''s. She had an eddge to her eyes, a temper he knew she fought to contain. A sin that Nyota lacked entirely. How could she stay so pure with that collar around her neck? Blackwood must have abused her somehow, yet the violence had not taken root in her essence. For the first time in Liam''s life, he found himself questioning why he liked Sarah.


    "Uhm, maybe you should ride with Arlet. He''ll keep you safer than I can." Said Liam, wiping tears of pain out of his eyes.


    Nyota''s ears flicked, as if a raw egg had been cracked on her forehead. Tail falling slack.


    "My lord, do not burden me with a rider. Should we be overtaken I cannot outride so burdened. Take the healer. Or leave her behind. We can send the militia to retrieve her later."


    "Ah, quite right. It would be safest if she stayed behind." Said Liam.


    "Nyoo!" Shouted Nyota, "Please take me with you, cut off my legs to lighten the load, but please lord, take me with you!"


    An offer like that had never crossed Liam''s mind, sending his eyebrows into the stratosphere and his jaw through the pits of hell.


    "Cat, you will obey the lord. I have no desire to harm one who has aided us, but you are treading beyond your station!" Growled Arlet.


    The last time a maid had overstepped like this, Arlet had tied her to a post and stripped her naked, ready to deliver ten lashes. Normal whips were simple leather, but Lashes were a corporal punishment that specified blood must be drawn with each stroke. So it became customary to implant shards of bone in the whip as it best guaranteed blood and thick scarring. Baron Green had orchestrated the affair, and swooped in to pardon the woman at the last second. Not uncoincidentally ingratiating the people of Greenhaven to himself. Playing on his one true virtue. He hated to see others suffer.


    At least they had that in common. Liam extended his hand to Nyota, she reached for it and he withdrew a few inches, not out of range. Just far enough to give Nyota pawse.


    "It would be safer for you to stay here. I swore no harm would befall you. If you come with us, then I give you a formal command to help me keep my word. Should we be captured, say what you need to in order to survive."


    Confusion flitted across her face, ears facing fully forward to hear every sound he made, from beating heart to expanding lungs. Her hand slid into his, the other hiking up her dress. Without warning she pounced. Alighting behind Liam and wrapping herself around him. Her lips brushed his ear.


    "Then ride swiftly because I shall not lie." She whispered.


    They rode into the day, keeping to side streets and farm trails at every opportunity. Never daring to use the mains. Twice they were nearly spotted by patrols, and four times strange beasts wandered across their path. First an enormous bear with a deer held in it''s maw, then two brushes with lone hellhounds, who seemed as uninterested in fighting as they were, and lastly with a cat. Not just any cat, a black furred panther of elongated proportions. When the creature''s yellow eyes caught sight of them, it lingered on Liam for several seconds, the staredown ending only after it dissolved into a puddle of dark energy that tickled their noses. Nyota sneezed and they pressed onward.


    Arriving at Greenhaven without further alarm and riding up to the city''s grey walls. Aside the Keep, everything in Greenhaven was of human construction, appearing as any other town of stone foundations, walls, and a mix of wooden houses. But the keep was special, an obsidian monument that stretched into the sky, and later integrated with the City''s stone wall, it held the Southeastern quarter, a monument to the era before humanity and the dead gods of Taloc''s war.


    ---


    Days later, Liam paced the dark halls of Green’s ancestral home, candles, windows, and torches provided beacons of light only to be swallowed up in the glossy darkness of the glass'' inner depths. As if it''s slain masters extracted payment from light itself. Blackwood’s men seemed to give up their pursuit, chased off by the roving monsters. In a way, the outriders had done him a service, patrolling the Barony''s roads and slaying the same creatures that Liam was now honourbound to slay or tame. Baron William Ethan Green was the lord protector of these lands that made Liam the lord protector, for as long as he inhabited Green’s body. Despite Green never truly bearing the mantle of lordship.


    Of course he had been appointed lord with proper ceremony and celebration, parties were his forte, personal difficulty his most bitter foe. Any and all responsibilities were delegated to the first lad willing to take them on. While other responsibilities were wishfully ignored. His shirking created an impressive network of mayors and councils, a bureaucracy that would be right at home in the —far larger— capital of Talocandel, not in a backwood Barony. So long as their taxes were paid, Green left his towns and cities to their own machinations, thinking that autonomy would solve Greenwood’s problems.


    It had not, and for Liam, it was an unmitigated disaster. This was like starting a round of risk with no reinforcements and a single territory. One that happened to be in the middle of an Asian land war. What he had on hand in Greenhaven was everything he would get.


    I''m a doctor, not a general! I should find a way to turn over the Barony. Ah, If only Blackwood could be counted on. I could go above his head to Duke Hamilton, but that''s close enough to running to the King. Ick. Feels like I''m back in the elementary school playground trying to play with Susie M. No fruitsnack tribute means you aren''t welcome. Ugh. Politics. How do I go back to being a doctor?


    Customarily, a Baron would receive aid from their direct liege lord, a tradition Blackwood already refused. Subsequently leaving Liam to make his plea to the king, a journey of weeks or months depending on which route one took. Help would never arrive in time, we are on our own…


    He flexed each finger, attempting to hold them steady.


    One...


    Two...


    A tremble flexed his pinky.


    Three...


    Ring and middle finger twitched, ending the test. Since arriving Nyota’s healing abilities had managed to rehabilitate his body, but she could only weild the micro-miracle a few times a day. While each day new reports of monsters reached him, often borne by an injured man, or a woman who had lost her husband to it. Unable to stand idle Liam ordered Nyota to heal them instead of himself, yet it wasn’t enough. Green’s people, no Liam’s people, now required more healing than Nyota had to give.


    Liam rubbed his temples, trying to absorb the half dozen letters that lay on his breakfast table. Greenwood Keep was an ancient fortress, built long before humans set foot on this continent. It had been repurposed, with centuries of renovations and expansions that led to the town of Greenhaven being built off the fortification. Still, medieval technology was limited to additions, with no capability of expanding the narrow corridors or uncanny rooms with no perceivable purpose. The first floor of Greenwood Keep was constructed of enormous boulders, each rock larger than a gas guzzling humvee, far grander than anything masons of this era could work on.


    The second floor of the keep was just as unusual, with blocks of obsidian and columns of granite comprising its structure in an arrangement that gave the Keep a feeling of narrowness. As if it had been made for beings thinner than humans but eight or nine feet tall, the window sill sat at an even five feet above the floor, an unpleasant height that always troubled the maids and annoyed the guards, despite the scaffolding their ancestors had constructed.


    For what it was worth, Liam hated the high windows since they somehow always managed to reflect sunshine into his eyes, no matter the time of day. The assholes. Once upon a time, the keep had housed inhuman creatures, servants of the old gods. Monsters that ruled over humanity in time immemorial, long since forgotten, purged by Taloc''s lightning. No tapestries or paintings of the beings existed, but their obsidian buildings -similar to Greenwood Keep- dotted the land. The church kept records of known human civilizations, and as they told the legend, Therun Taloc, God King of humanity, purged Greenwood Keep himself. Slaying the beings who oppressed humanity in one stop along his long war of ascension. Remarkable, and most likely an exaggeration. A sort of ''God has walked in your footsteps'' deal.


    Liam sighed, glancing at the reports spread across his table. An export ledger caught his eye, containing the complete tally of outgoing products. Under the current year''s heading was a big fat empty space. No net exports. No tariffs on imports. Greenwood was flat broke.


    Pilgrims were the only source of income, those who sought to march along the path of Taloc''s ancient conquests. Really, the legend was why Greenwood Barony existed as a lordship at all. The northernmost town of Avignon marked a known monument of Taloc, while the walls and chapel of Mont St Michel were the most spectacular obsidian structures on the continent, and described in detail via the Teutonic Codex. This church''s holiest record. Converting the otherwise mundane cities into holy sites. Places of worship that supported pilgrims who sought some form of enlightenment from walking in his steps.


    God must be laughing at me. I stopped going to church when I was twelve and now I am a Baron who owes everything to a more violent church. Man, never thought I would be wishing for Jesus back in my life.


    A knock sounded at the door, swinging open with a grim faced Arlet and a dusty knight entered. His eyes met Liam’s, and the unspoken gravity of the situation suffocated his wayward thoughts.


    “Baron Green,” Arlet spoke with a voice burdened by their dire situation, “our knights have returned from their patrol, they found a dozen of Blackwood’s outriders dead on the road.” Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    “Did our knights return safely?” Asked Liam.


    “Yes my lord. This is their commander if you wish to hear the full report, but thankfully they did not encounter any living foes.” Said Arlet.


    “Excellent, tell me what you found.”


    “Yes sir!” Said the knight at Arlet’s side, removing his helmet he knelt, eyes averted. Gray hair spilled out of the helmet, and wrinkles marred his face. The fittest knight Greenhaven seemed to have.


    Dude, you’re twice my age! Stop kneeling and parading around in front of me, it’s weird.


    “Ahem, there is no need for formalities at the breakfast table, else we will never be able to move onto lunch. Now please, what did you find?” Chuckled Liam sarcastically, trying to put the man at ease.


    “As you wish my lord.” He said, rising to his feet without a hint of mirth.


    “We followed your orders and patrolled the road to Mont St Michel, seeking parlaynce from Blackwood’s men. Instead we found families fleeing their homes. We rendered what aid we could, we slew a number of vicious green toadlings. Men no taller than my waist. Bever seen their like before. Though we could not catch the shadowcats. Farmers report the cats watch them day in and out. Never striking, only watching." He shook his head, hands clenching into fists. "They should be harvesting crops this week, not fleeing from fat fields to cower within our walls.” Said the knight voice dipping into a snarl as he spoke.


    Liam had become accustomed to this vehemence from Green’s memories. Food is life, the harvest must be brought in to survive the winter, that is just how things are. Preservation techniques are highly limited, drying food or covering things in salt is about all we can do… Man, I never thought the most desirable modern amenity would be a canning factory. Guess all those stories about bringing an industrial revolution with guns and tanks missed the most basic element.


    “Many have arrived safely. In fact, I have already heard some of their pleas, enormous green men, hellhounds, bears larger than aurochs, fairies that bite at throats, and even a report of wild dogs that vanish momentarily, only to appear nearby.” Said Liam.


    “Yes lord, I am glad to hear they arrived…” Said the knight, a vein in his neck bulging with insincerity. “We encountered a pair of those burning dogs, thank Taloc for your warning, bloody currs were tough enough to break half our lances, had we not brought extra…” He shuddered, “I tremble to think how many of us would have been burned by their flames.”


    Arlet shot a meaningful look to Liam, who in turn acknowledged both men with a nod.


    “We should take note of your experience and spread it to all our knights. Take any monsters to the butcher, a post mortem dissection could help us understand exactly how different these beasts are from the wolves we know.” Said Liam, stroking his beard with one hand.


    During college he had kept himself clean shaven, but Green was far older, and shaving tech here was more along the lines of sheep sheers than straight razors. Besides, the beard was rich and thick, so reassuring. It helped him think, like stroking a cat.


    “A butcher. Surely you don’t mean to eat them Lord Green?” Asked the knight, eyes growing wide.


    “Eat a hellhound? Not sure. Can''t hurt to try a nibble." Liam shrugged. "I''m more curious about how those dogs burn. How can they traipse around all day, literally on fire. It’s incredible! How is that possible? We can assume magic is involved, but what if we domesticated a pair of hellhounds? Winter is near at hand, and having an endless supply of heat would be a tremendous boon.” Shouted Liam, excitement bubbling over his sense.


    Grandpa had a golden retriever, a rosey ball of fluffy love that Liam missed dearly since moving away from home. In spite of that love, life in college dorms and Sarah’s allergy had prevented him from realizing that dream.


    Two open mouths stared at Liam.


    “Don’t give me that look! We breed hunting hounds every year, who is to say we could not breed hellhounds as well? Start exploring that angle, if a den of hellhounds is found, let us engage in pup-napping. Ha. Anyways, continue please.”


    “ah, uhm, a visionary! plan my lord.” Stammered the knight, blanching considerably. “Ahem, we encountered a patrol of outriders a half day’s ride beyond the walls of Mont St Michel. A dozen men were dead and their horses had been torn apart, eaten by some creature far larger than a hellhound. We procured their weapons and armor for your armory.”


    Liam nodded. Searching across his table for the brick of slate he was using to keep tallies of each monster that had been reported. Six more tallies to the hellhound count gave it a grand total of forty seven.


    That’s more wolves than the fiefdom kills in a year, we are positively swimming in Hell… hounds. Strange that their numbers outpace all others. Almost as if a power dumped them in my backyard, hoping to cause maximum damage...


    “We liberated their supplies and reported to the church’s militia in Mont St Michel my lord…” His voice trailed off, hesitating.


    This would be so much easier if the knights thought I wasn’t a pile of excrement. Green, why did you have to go and destroy your reputation so thoroughly!? I''m equal parts disgusted and impressed that you''ve hit on every single one of their wives.


    “Spit it out, can’t you see I have dozens of reports to read? Quit wasting my time!” Snapped Liam.


    “Yes sir! The militia of Mont St Michel, as well as the clergy, has reported monsters appearing inside their walls! Bees the size of children, and they speak of figures in the woods, beings that appear to be human until one calls out, then they show their red eyes. They had one more thing to report, it sounds impossible, but bishop Matimeo himself swore he had seen it with his own eyes, a river of purple that appears out of the aether and births these monsters!” Said the Knight, sounding bashful, as if he had just finished reciting a children’s fairy tale.


    Purple rivers. May as well call it purple rain for all the sense it makes.


    “Have no fear, every patrol has reported some variant of your story. If that concludes your report then you may go, rest and eat while you can, the coming days will soon test our strength.” Said Liam.


    The knight bowed quickly and jogged out of the chamber, leaving a distraught lord and an uncomfortable captain behind him.


    "Milord, I have another report." Captain Arlet’s voice was steady, but his words were a harbinger of despair.


    Man, getting information from these guys is like waxing a cat. Difficult, painful, weirdly loud, and entirely too time consuming. Liam gestured for Arlet to speak, not wanting to snap at him with a thoughtless barb.


    “While we were away our first company of men at arms, your personal guard, sought to put an end to a ‘purple river’ with violence, one near Kesky. They entered the portal the day after we left and have not returned. The report mentions that residents of Kesky village saw armored creatures exiting a nearby portal a few hours later.”


    Liam’s heart slowed as he listened, nearly stopping at the mention of ‘armored creatures, could a portal change humans into monsters? He shuddered, starting to think the problem was unassailable.


    The first company was locally considered to be a company of champions, a necessary deception that Baron Green spread to anyone foolish enough to listen. Which was most people, as Arlet''s talents were recognized across the Kingdom of Eldarion. His prestige was inflated and stroked to tyrannosaurus levels, working wonders for public order. If a peasant stepped out of line they would face judgment at the hands of a ‘champion’. At least, that is what he said to Arlet, in truth the first company existed to compensate for his own lack of character, surrounding himself with men who showed even a hint of talent.


    “What of the Greenhaven militia? Have any returned to us since they were given leave to participate in the harvest?” Liam said, hoping for an ounce of good news amidst the ten tonnes of reports.


    Someone really powerful hates Baron Green. They’ve been watching us for years, this is the poorest year in a decade, exports are down, pilgrims from the Kheresh Dukedom are prohibited this year, and Marquies Whitfield  shut down all travel through his lands due to a grain blight. Last winter was a long one, meaning spring came late, and the portals appeared exactly after we disbanded the militia for our harvest.


    “Indeed there is. One score remains in our service, I’ve recalled the others but…”


    “But you can’t send lone messengers out and even if you could it would take weeks to spread word and days for everyone to journey here.”


    “Tis exactly as you say sir…”


    “Chin up Arlet, don’t let your despair show. All we can do is pray that the militia rallies in each town, that they band together to avoid being picked off by roving packs of hellhounds.“ Said Liam.


    Arlet nodded. Both men knew the militia was already dead. Taloc would be showering them in miracles for every militant who made it back to Greenhaven.


    “I’ll start training a new platoon, we can mix in some of the knights and veterans to give them a spine. It may prove productive to form patrols who can scour the countryside, rescuing those who are trapped in their homes or otherwise isolated. Wolves cannot open doors or climb trees, but humans can.“ Arlet said.


    “An excellent suggestion Arlet, but one we cannot afford to indulge in. You may recruit anyone who is not actively involved in growing food, but we must focus on bringing in the harvest. Gather all the refugees and wagons, requisition them by force if necessary. Take them and use them to harvest the local fields with an armed escort to keep them safe. When winter arrives we can drill all day and night, but spring will never come if we all starve to death.” Liam said.


    Captain Arlet paused, a frown crossing his face. “A… Very sound judgment my lord.”


    To Liam his words sounded conflicted, like a balloon that had been untied and was deflating slowly, instead of exploding with a bang. With that in mind Liam began to wonder if Arlet, captain of champions, wanted to die.


    It makes sense, what warrior wants to grow old and wither away? That sort of ending never makes for a good song…


    “Tell me, Arlet, what else can be done?” Liam demanded, voice quivering as he tried to hide his unease, reminding himself that this wasn''t earth.


    The captain’s eyes met his, unwavering in their loyalty, even in the face of such dire circumstances.


    “I do not have the answer m’lord. We are out of money, food, and manpower, even now we cannot defend Greenwood Keep. Whatever you do, it must be decisive. Mont St Michel’s report of flying monsters troubles me above all else, even moreso than the first company’s potential… erm… conversion. If intelligent or flying creatures appear we will be at their mercy. I am loathsome for even considering this, but could we not send another message to the surrounding nobles-“


    “Viscount Blackwood is our liege lord, He controls the lands to our north, our south, our east, and our west. As well as the baronies beyond them. Do you really think he will send us even one man?”


    “I- ah... My apologies lord.”


    “We will have to go above his head.” Said Liam.


    “Are you sure that is wise? I remember some unsavory business with Marquess Whitefield and Duke Hamilton.”


    Their names drudged up some of Green’s memories, a common enough occurrence that he had learned to cope with. Closing his eyes Liam welcomed the new information into his brain, accepting the gift of free knowledge. It’s not as good as the internet, but I’ll take anything at this point.


    Supposedly Marquess Whitefield had seduced Duchess Hamilton, trapping her in a love triangle between the northern region’s most powerful men. In truth, Baron Green had spread rumors of an affair between the two senior nobles, repeating the lie to intrigue maids. Alcohol tainted the memories -like it always did- confusing their origins and calling into question the validity of the rumor.


    “Indeed… We have no choice, when they ignore our requests I will seek aid from the king himself, assuming we can find our way to the capital.”


    “A baron troubling the king! My lord, that is not something you should jest about.”


    Liam held up nine letters as he spoke.


    “I have already written four letters for each of them. Here are your copies. We will send these letters to our different lords and when they fail to respond we shall appeal to the king. I do not take this matter lightly Arlet.”


    “Lord Green, you could be killed for your insolence! Think rationally, I beg of you.”


    “Arlet! Look at these numbers! In two months we will have a monster for every human in my lands. In three months there will be two monsters for every person, a happy pair of hellhounds for every man, woman, and child in our Barony! Do you think any cattle will be left? What about plow horses or oxen? You said I should be decisive. Well, here it is!”


    Captain Arlet’s jaw worked, wanting to challenge his lord, to save him from himself. Yet he knew what needed to be done, and as his lord’s champion Arlet would lay down his life for Baron Green. But politics only became more complicated if you stabbed someone. This was the domain of nobles and pedigree, not a battlefield of steel and violence. The armored knight rubbed his own temples, wringing a grim smile to Liam’s lips.


    “As you wish. My lord.”


    “Fear not, I know how we will defend Greenwood, it’s a little philosophy I call triage. We will visit each town, if they can survive on their own, we’ll leave them be, if they require aid, we''ll conscript them, turning them into our aid. Avignon, Petra, and Kesky will be our first stops, any beasts we find along the way must be beheaded. To create evidence for his majesty. That ought to be enough to earn his attention.”


    “Your orders are the wisest you have ever given me, they shall be executed as you have commanded. However there is another matter I wish to discuss…” Arlet added.


    Liam nearly lept for glee, he was winning over Arlet! Hopefully I can keep this up, otherwise he might end up stabbing me in my sleep… Should I have Nyota keep watch? She is the only one who seems completely faithful to the, uhm, new and improved Baron Green.


    “Magic, you want to discuss magic.” Liam said, struggling not to sigh.


    “Indeed my lord! It is so! We have no mages in Greenhaven, the clergy gathered in Mont St Michel while our green wizards are missing! But these rivers of purple water must be arcane in nature, a vestige of malice. The few men unlucky enough to behold them with their own eyes report foreign lands. Trees and plants they do not recognize, rivers that run red, and strange creatures. I cannot fight what will not stand before me. We must consult a sage. Mayhaps then we can slay the source of these monsters.”


    Hey, I like this idea, I thought he was going to talk nonsense about lightning mages being Talot’s special snowflakes or something. Liam nodded his head, smiling at the suggestion. Arlet’s humility pleased him greatly, a rare trait since experienced soldiers —especially noble born knights like Arlet— tended to grow arrogant over time. Their pride swelling until they thought they knew everything and stopped consulting others.


    “My mind and memories are still foggy Arlet. Where is the nearest sage?”


    “Sage Rhendal is the closest… I know you have a history with him, but we''d have to pass through Blackwood county to reach the others. And our local magi are missing.”


    Rhendal, I remember Green having a falling out with him long ago. He was also the sage who tested Green’s mana and tutored him for a brief time. Why did they fall out? I can’t remember any details… Drat, Green must have killed those memories with alcohol.


    “Rhendal’s tower is a day’s march from here, I can swallow my pride for that long. Rally an escort and some servants, if diplomacy fails, at least we can try bribing the old man. Let us make for the sage’s dwelling while the day is still young.”


    A small benefit of having so few men was that Liam did not have to wait long for them to gather. Three armored knights and six militia joined him in the courtyard, forming an armed escort for the brief ride to Rhendal’s tower.


    By some twist of fate Rhendal had decided to take up residence within sight of Greenwood keep, so close that on clear days the crown of his tower could be seen from Greenwood’s highest towers. Deceptively close.