A Road of Four

Hey guys,

Here’s a piece I’ve written which would be best decribed as a mix between horror and fantasy, with a sprinkling of action at the end for good measure. It follows Kuldrow, an old weary soldier who has fallen far from grace. Coca, a mother as firm as granite who is seeking passage to “Haven” with her two children, Eric and Sophia.

I’ve had a lot of fun writing this one, particularly the fight scene. As always, I’d love to hear any thoughts or feedback you might have on the piece. A final word of warning, there’s some harsh language.

Cheers,

Jevan Thompson

 

Smoke drifted through the mountain pass, gently blowing through the corridor of stones, carried along by the soft breath of the wind.

Kuldrow had to pause for breath, even though he knew he couldn’t afford it. He’d been moving all day, but bodies only carried so much energy. The world around him functioned on equal exchange and sadly, humans were no different. Hunger gnawed at his body and his thoughts, straining his already frayed mind that extra fatal step. He stopped, hands on his knees and let his struggling lungs fill themselves with the sweet, sharp mountain air.

“Kuldrow! We can’t stop again, the Sun’s only just set! Do you want to get us all killed?!” Coca hissed, her green emerald eyes shining with frustration.

“I just need a moment…just need to get my breath back.” He managed to splutter between heaving gasps. The woman called Coca shook her head and turned away from him briefly, before spitting angrily onto the mud below her booted feet. Much to his dismay, she was only bearing the slight signs of fatigue. A few beads of sweat were dotted on her brow, as opposed to the river which ran down his. The rhythm of her lungs sounded in a controlled manner, as opposed to the vast, ravenous gasps that came from his.

Before he could think of something to say that would soothe their thoughts, two more figures trudged up next to them, exhaustion thick on their haggard faces, the weariness hanging from their bodies. The journey they had taken had been hard, but for the two children, Eric and Sophia had experienced the worst. The packs that rested on their shoulders were meant for men, not younglings who had not yet seen their tenth year.

“Mama, I don’t want to walk anymore, can we stop?” Sophia whined, a sad expression colouring her tanned face.

“My back hurts.” Eric moaned.

Coca turned to the two children and for a moment, Kuldrow saw a flash of heartbreak dance across her eyes. But as soon as he saw it, it vanished, replaced with a look of hardness, a look of stone.

“We aren’t stopping, we’re nearly there.” She told them both, with a voice as sharp as broken glass.

“Mama…” Eric began to moan, but Coca’s raised hand made him stop in his tracks.

“I know, I know. It’s been nasty this walk hasn’t it? I’m proud of my two little warriors, you’ve both been very brave, but we’ve got to keep going a tiny bit longer. Can my two soldiers do that for me?”

Both of the children perked up at the compliment, and nodded wearily. Kuldrow knew the words were false, as he thought the two children had been nothing but whiny little babes, constantly complaining or grumbling about the slightest little thing. He did not think they were brave. He thought they were little shits.

His old bones ached underneath his wrinkling skin as he took a deep breath in.

What a poor reward for my survival. Congratulations on your fiftieth year Kuldrow, now I’m going to start making your joints ache and your bones throb. He thought to himself, silently cursing his failing body. It never used to be this way. Ten years ago he was still one of the best Pillars known, not fearing the night, or what dwelt within. Now…now he had learned sense, like everybody else.

Coca watched her young ones set off once again, still with firm eyes. Once they had taken a few footsteps, she turned her gaze back to the perspiring man, radiating barely contained anger.

“Get. Your shit. Together.” She said with a snarl. Kuldrow watched her as she strode away, her long toned legs, although hidden by her leathers, maintained a strict, unrelenting pace. He shook his head and took a few more deep heaves of air, attempting to prepare himself for the trial ahead.

****************************************************************************************************

“What does that say mama?” Sophia asked, yawning loudly.

The night was firmly in place now, no telltale shining of the sun’s waning light, no faint glimmer of yellows or red on the horizon. Night had reclaimed the sky, for a long while until the sun could rise up to fight it once more. The sun gave protection, gave safety. The night however, only gave horrors.

Coca cast her gaze behind her briefly, seeing the old soldier huffing and puffing like a forge bellows. How did I ever put my faith in that washed up fool? She thought, cursing herself bitterly. She had only known heard whispers of Kuldrow, once a fearsome warrior they said, now an old relic of the past. Apparently, he’d fought in the great legion when the last army of men were united. The last fight against the nightmares. The last stand.

He hasn’t fought against anything. The only thing he has ever had a battle with is his waistline.

She took another, disdainful look at the man.

He wore black, travel tarnished leathers, the material flaking and cracking, showing it’s old age. Not too different from the man wearing them. He had the appearance of a strong body, but the belly that hung from his waist showed that it was old muscle, not freshly used. It seemed that even though it was not maintained, it had refused to leave him.

A grey beard clung on his battered face, doing a poor job of covering many small scars which criss-crossed over his jawline and cheeks. Seeing those scars often made her wonder at how good he was in a fight. It’s probably from drunken brawls. Scars just mean he’s careless. Stupid oaf. Sweat glistened on his face, making him look like a waddling glazed pig that had been stuffed into cracked armour, claiming to be a man.

She spat again, something that was becoming an awful habit as of late. How can that bastard even claim to be one of the Legion? 

“Mama?” Sophia asked innocently. Eric was sat on his pack, trying to curl up into a ball on top of it like a wildcat. He slipped off, groaning with annoyance and settling onto the gravel reluctantly. Coca turned to her and forced a smile onto her face.

“It says, Knuckle’s Haven, two miles.” She explained somberly.

“Mama…” Eric said, complaint heavy in his voice.

“Not another word little one, we’ll be there soon. Not long left.”

His only response was to immediately begin crying, long mournful sobs, but he was interrupted quickly by his stern mothers intervention. She cuffed him gently on the pack of his head, making him yelp in surprise.

“A hour at the most, not long left now.”

Eric’s face twisted into a sharp frown as he sat on his on pack again, grumbling to himself.

Kuldrow stopped next to the makeshift sign, made out of tar on plain wood. The torch next to it was still blazing brightly, he reckoned it was only a few hours old. Sighing heavily, he rested on the sign, dragging his canteen from his striders belt and drinking thirstily from the cold river water within.

He was supposed to rationing it.

Coca sighed in revulsion at his poor discipline. A true soldier wouldn’t have such poor drills, drinking his water so frugally, what is he thinking? She spat again and walked towards him, snarling like a caged animal.

“I’ve just about had it with you! You lying wretch of a man! We put-”

“Quiet.” Kuldrow whispered. His breathing had quietened significantly and his once tired eyes were now narrowed and alert, tracking the wilderness of the mountains like a hawk. They both paused, listening closely,  but only the night air greeted them in return.

“You son of a whore…you think-” Coca started.

“Quiet, now! Get off the path. Hurry!” He hissed, moving with a frantic speed she did not think was possible. She looked at him in disbelief for a precious moment, then burst into action, scooping her children up in one swift motion and darting off the battered road, following Kuldrow eagerly.

They sank into the muddy trench with a thick squelching of mud, like the ground itself was annoyed at their sudden intrusion. Kuldrow surprised her yet again, instantly turning his attention to the darkness beyond. The only thing that stood out against the black backdrop was the flickering torchlight and even that seemed dimmer now they were far away.

“Not a breath my sweetlings, hush now.” He whispered to the alarmed children. They were shocked at their sudden movement and how serious Kuldrow’s face had become. But even the children had enough sense to know when to be quiet.

She thought about opening her mouth to snap at him again, but there was something about him that made her pause. Where earlier she’d seen an out of shape, washed up, shell of a man, a new person was now crouched down next to her. This man was wise, confident, experienced and hardened. Steel lined his jaw and fire shone in his eyes, one of his hands was curled around his sword’s grip and the other was placed carefully and deliberately on the edge of the trench, as if ready for something.

His eyes darted all around the darkness, jumping frantically from shadow to shadow. Coca switched her focus to the woods, but if there was something out there, she couldn’t see it. Maybe he’s finally cracked, maybe this is where he sees all of his war moments come back to haunt him. But then, out of the quiet of the night, a rattle of footsteps thudded on the path. Coca held her breath, to scared to make a noise, to scared to move.

Oh god’s…he was right. She thought, her body sinking with realisation. The nightmares never usually came through the mountain paths, prefering to stick to the lower, more wooded areas.

Silhouettes flitted past in the span of a few seconds, their speed incredibly, impossibly fast. Loose rocks and fallen branches were swept aside by their passing. Although her eyes struggled against the low light, she could make out that the creatures ran on all fours, as long as wagon cart, but very thin and gangly. At least ten of the shapes flew by, but one silhouette remained, slowing his unnatural gait into a sudden stop.

She saw it’s head swivel round into their direction and pause.

No.

No.

No.

Not like this.

Fear had gripped her mind so firmly, that her body started to shake, with her stomach suddenly feeling as though it was full of lead. Images of her own death flashed through her brain, torn apart by these horrendous beings of the night.

Then, a sound snapped her out of her trance.

Eric.

Eric had whimpered.

This was the closest the young one had got to the monsters and the icy, crushing embrace of fear had seized him firmly, wrestling a noise from his quivering lips. She moved her head slightly, as slow and as carefully as she could, placing a hand on his hair gently. Her other hand, albeit trembling slightly, held up a finger to her lips.

The outline of the beast was still there.

Watching.

Listening.

Waiting.

Then after what seemed like an eternity, the shadow tilted its head back and let loose a low, disturbing howl. It was like a wolf and a pig had combined, the noise deep and loud, but strangely guttural. Before Coca could even contemplate what was about to happen, the creature’s head tilted back to it’s brethren and it took off like an arrow, disappearing further up the trail.

They stayed there for another fifteen minutes, frozen in place until Eric’s body could take the strain any longer. A quiet cry burst from his mouth and his back heaved with sobbing as he broke down utterly, dissolving into a terrifying, historical mess. As if his crying was a prearranged command, Sophia began to cry as well, tears running freely down her delicate face.

Coca moved over to them both and held them in a tight embrace, a tear of her own falling from her eye. “It’s okay…It’s okay now…Mama’s got you both…mama’s got you…” She cooed, her voice close to breaking. Amidst the hysterical sobbing, she turned her head to look at Kuldrow.

The old man was back, with no fire in his eyes or steel in his jaw.

****************************************************************************************************

“I’m telling you, there’s men up ahead.” Coca said firmly, utterly confident in her assessment.

Kuldrow rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully.

“We’ve been waiting too long now. They aren’t going to go away and we can’t go round them. It’ll take too long.”

There were a few moments of silence as they watched the men through the trees. With the darkness of the night so thick around them, they could only make out a few flickering flames with some figures stood nearby.

“It’ll take too long.” Kuldrow whispered to himself, his fist resting on his jaw.

Coca turned her gaze from the men in the distance to the old man right next to her, truth be told, she didn’t know which sight was worse. An indecisive, useless fool who was a liar and a cheat or three mysterious men who most likely ruthless bandits, preying on the weak and foolhardy alike.

I bet that liar can’t fight worth a damn, so it’s me against three of them… Coca thought to herself.

Not great odds.

Then again, if he can deal with one of them, even if he only lasts a minute, that’s me against two.

Still not great odds.

She was still focussing on the bandits, running a hundred different scenarios through her head when she heard Kuldrow move. He turned back to the children before he spoke.

“Right you two. I want you to stay here and wait in the trees, me and your mama are going to check out the torches. Don’t come over until-”

Coca grabbed him roughly by the arm.

“Just what do you think you are doing?! Giving orders to my children like they’re damned soldiers-” She began, her voice a quiet, yet ferocious storm. But before she could finish her snarling, Kuldrow cut her off with a rigid wave of his hand.

The fire was back in his eyes.

“Don’t come over until we shout you okay? It’s very important. So what are you going to do?” Kuldrow asked firmly.

The two children were quiet for a moment, then Eric looked over to Coca for permission. She nodded her assent gently.

“We are going to wait here.” He said tentatively, unsure of weather his answer was correct.

“Well done. When are you going to come over?” Kuldrow asked.

This time Sophia answered, eager to give the right answer.

“Not until you shout!” She said with a smile, perhaps the first she’d had since they began their journey.

“That’s it, well done the both of you. Now keep quiet. Me and your mama will be back in no time.” Kuldrow finished, turning back to Coca.

“How many are there?” He asked her reluctantly.

“You kidding me?! You can’t even see how-” She started.

“Just answer the damned question.” He said.

Coca shook her head in disbelief and gave a heavy sigh. “Three. There’s three of them.”

He nodded and scratched his stubble again.

“Well, time to be going. We go together, no blades out yet, might be we can pay them off.”

For once, she didn’t disagree or argue with him. Right now, only a mile from the haven, she wanted nothing more than to be there. With one final scratch of his face, they set off towards the flickering torchlight.

**********************************

“Ho there friends, not often you see a fire on a night like this. Mind if we share it for a spell?” Kuldrow said as they approached, his hands open in a gesture of peace.

The three men stood up at once from their logs, clearly surprised at Coca’s and Kuldrow’s sudden appearance. From first glance, Coca could see they had made a mistake. The men were dirty, ragged, brutes. Their eyes glimmered with a cold unsettling malice that made Coca’s stomach drop.

They all wore dark travel stained clothes, which looked as though they had never seen water, much less been washed. Two of them had shaved heads, with battered mail shirts over the top of their clothes, that ranged from missing a few mere links to whole entire sections. Where two of them were large and fat, their clothes struggling to contain their bulk, one was a thin wiry stick of a man, his mail loosely hanging off of his chest, his long greasy hair brushed over his ears.

He had the most evil eyes of them all.

But Kuldrow didn’t seem to be worried, continuing to walk towards them unfazed.

“Haha! We’re lucky tonight boys!” The thin one said merrily to his entourage, walking towards Kuldrow slowly, sizing them both up with their dark eyes, laughing and whooping. The three of them lingered on Coca uncomfortably. Under their lusty stares, she felt like she needed a wash.

It was repulsive. It made her skin crawl.

“I can see we’ve made a mistake, we want to pass through. How much?” Kuldrow’s voice had sharpened at once, his words cutting through their aura of malicious joking, reducing their laughs and grins to stony silence. The thin one smiled grimly and brushed a strand of his greasy hair over his ear.

“Ten pieces of silver.” He said, his yellow teeth all showing in a sinister smile.

Kuldrow spat onto the dirt road and shook his head.

“We don’t have silver. What else?”

The thin man grabbed his own jaw dramatically, pretending to think hard.

“Oooh, well what about that sword?” He said, pointing to Kuldrow’s sheathed blade. “That’s a very nice sword…Give us that and you can be one your way.”

Before Kuldrow could turn him down, one of the brutes spoke.

“Ey…That’s a legion sword…Were you in the legion old man?” He asked curiously.

The thin man laughed.

“If he was in the legion boys, he certainly ain’t going to give us his sword! Well no bother, it’s been a while since we’ve had a good scrap.” He said, drawing his own sword. A dull old thing covered in notches. The dagger he drew afterwards however, looked brand new.

“You see if legion boy has anything left in him, the girls mine…”

A few heartbeats passed while the men looked at Kuldrow, trying to guess his next move. The old Pillar stood there, stone faced and resolute, meeting their eyes with a cold stare.

“So be it.” Kulddow said softly.

His sword cleared his battered scabbard with a strangely resonant ring, the steel still shining brightly despite its many years of use, it’s edge still sharp. The noise made the three thugs pause slightly, but then they continued their advance with evil smiles.

Coca stood to face the thin one, her own blade now unsheathed and ready. She took a few steps to her right and the man followed, leaving Kulddow to deal with the others.

The thin man gave another sickly grin and scraped his long knife on the edge of his sword, reveling in the harsh rasp that sounded through the clearing.

“Hello my dear… you know, if you put your sword down, we can accept another kind of payment…” He said with a disgusting thirst, his leering eyes wandering all over her body.

She breathed deeply, once, twice, then she struck.

With a deft lunge, her sword arced towards the man’s stomach, but he danced away with a confident chuckle. In the back of her mind, she could hear steel clash on steel as Kuldrow began his own deadly dance with the other two bandits.

She took a few more steps closer to him, then snarled as she launched a series of long, sweeping cuts. He expertly evaded, slipping away from all but one, which he turned aside with his knife, his browning teeth were revealed in a cruel smile yet again.

As quick as lightning, he attacked.

She went to block a stab from his knife, but realised too late that it was a diversion, letting him swing openly with his sword. Coca tried to lean away from the savage strike, but the blade hit heavily on her leathers, driving the wind from her body and leaving a long score in the material. She instinctively covered herself with a slash, which, much to her dismay, he dodged yet again.

She was outmatched. No two ways about it. So she would have play dirty.

Her free hand crept into a belt pouch, grabbing a handful of the iron dust that lay within. She waited until he moved closer, letting him think that she had been dealt a deadly blow. Sure enough, he eagerly took the bait, pacing close with dark delight.

“It’s going to be a shame to kill you…” He said sadly.

With an almighty throw, she cast the shavings at the man, taking a moment to savour the satisfaction of seeing him coughing and spluttering, backpedaling desperately to buy himself more time. She closed the gap, parried his blind cut, then swung her sword in a series of heavy slashes and cuts, like a lumberjack hell bent on felling a tree.

He managed to evade and slip all the hits, moving with the skill of an experienced man, despite the iron in his eyes. The last strike however, an overhand cut, went straight for his chest. The robber raised his knife to block the hit, but there was no strength in his grip as he attempted to parry. So instead of the blow being directed to one side harmlessly, it smashed into his ribcage with enough force to send him onto one knee, the knife tumbling from his hand.

She felt something crack as her sword connected, weather it was bone or the links of his mail, she wasn’t sure. His armour had held against the impact, stopping him from being cut,  but the force alone must have done some damage.

He struggled for breath, one hand swinging clumsily as he stood. The other holding his injured chest, his lungs rattling with every gasp of air. She pressed her attack, sweeping her blade in scything arcs, forcing him to weakly parry, making the grip on his sword looser and looser.

With a titanic swing, she sent his sword spiralling out of his hands, causing him to be driven to his hands and knees. With a final furious lunge, she drove the point of her sword into the back of his neck. It pierced the shoddy gambeson collar on his neck easily, punching straight through his throat, the blade spraying a mist of blood onto the forest floor.

A pained, struggling choking noise involuntarily escaped him, the blade driving the sound from his lips effortlessly. With a harsh wrench, the sword came away, spattering herself with yet more of the scarlet gore. She left him gasping and spluttering, hungrily looking for her next target.

One of the robbers was curled up, clutching his stomach desperately, groaning weakly. The other was locked in a struggle of swords, the blades tight against each other in a deadly embrace. She began her run towards the fight, but before she could get close enough to assist him, Kuldrow surprised her yet again.

With one hand still on his sword, he deftly drew a short thin dagger from the sleeve of his leathers and promptly stabbed it into the man’s neck. The thief showed no signs of ceasing his actions, snarling angrily as he tried to gain purchase on the blades, so Kuldrow plunged the knife in again, and again, and again.

Blood spurted and leaked from his throat, like a river of red flowing down his front. He sank to the floor, a hissing noise wheezing out from him as he fell. He, like Coca’s opponent, was left coughing and gurgling, trying in vain to get another breath of life into his lungs. Kuldrow was panting and gasping as well, but he was not wounded, save for a shallow cut on the side of his head.

Coca was speechless. Her mind could summon no words to explain how one old fool bested two men half his age, coming away with only a scratch. She, along with the rest of the bandits clearly had underestimated Kuldrow, the only difference being that their mistake was fatal.

After a few seconds, Kuldrow recovered slightly, his breathing becoming more steady. No longer heavy desperate heaves of air, but rather a calm, practiced process of a man in control.

Without looking at Coca, he strode over grimly to the injured man who was holding his stomach, with his face as solemn as the grave. He stabbed his sword into the earth, blood still red on the blade, but Coca noticed he kept hold of his dagger.

He knelt down next to the writhing man and scratched his jaw, before he spoke.

“Preying on travellers in the night?” He said, his voice dangerously quiet.

The bandit remained silent. Kuldrows hand visibly tightened on his dagger.

“In the fucking night? As if people haven’t got enough to worry about.”

The bandit groaned in response.

“You’ve got one chance. Any more of you friends at haven waiting for us?” Kuldrow asked.

“Haven’s gone! There’s nothing there!” The bandit said through gritted teeth.

A heavy, oppressive silence settled over them like a thick fog, encompassing all of them utterly.

It seemed like an eternity before Kuldrow spoke again.

“Speak truly-”

“I’m fucking telling you, there’s nobody left…The nightmares killed about half not five moons ago, then everyone fought over the supplies… I’m telling you it’s the truth!” The bandit said through hissed teeth, the keen pain he was feeling manifested itself in his every rattling breath he took.

“Then what are you doing here?” Kuldrow asked as he knelt down beside him.