"I won't let him hurt anyone else," Ivy said with conviction. "And I want to be free of him."
I looked over at Thomas.
"You know I'm coming," he said. "I've got some vengeance of my own that needs to be inflicted on those bastards."
"How long until we reach this... prison?" I asked Ivy.
"By foot? Two, maybe three days."
"Well, we'd better get moving then. You'd both better get some water to drink and something to eat, because we've got a hell of a march ahead of us."
Both Thomas and Ivy brimmed with the expectation of getting revenge on the man who had destroyed their lives. But I knew that Mordred would rather see everyone he held captive die, than allow anyone to take him alive. Innocent people were going to die, I was sure of that.
Chapter 26
The large city of Orleans sat on the river Loire and was one of the richest cities in France, with one of the few bridges passing over the river leading right into her heart. The only problem for us was getting past Paris. As Orleans was directly south of our current position, going around Paris would have taken precious time, so we walked through it. A calculated risk, but Thomas played the mute servant well, and Ivy took the role as my niece, whilst I continued to play the part of a man on a pilgrimage. None of us were bothered by the guard or citizens, but we didn't stay, no matter how nice the idea of a fresh bed might have been.
We did, however, buy plenty of food, mostly bread and cheese, enough to last a few days.
After Paris, we kept moving for two days and nights, rarely stopping for longer than a few minutes during the day and finding somewhere safe and off the roads for short periods at night to get some sleep.
At some point our luck at remaining undisturbed was going to run out, and the closer we got to Orleans, the more likely we were to be attacked by Mordred's forces. I wanted to avoid a confrontation for as long as possible.
"We're close now," Ivy said as we passed an old derelict hut, scorch marks evident on the wooden beams used as the frame.
She pointed down a small dirt road. "The prison is down there, about a mile. One of the prisoners, a boy named Simon, managed to escape and get through the woods." She turned to Thomas. "He found this place, and an old man and woman lived here. They gave him shelter. Mordred found them and killed the old couple before dragging Simon back. I can sometimes still hear his screams at night."
She hugged herself tightly, until Thomas placed a strong hand on her shoulder. "He won't hurt anyone again." I had to give Thomas credit, he certainly believed his words. Although I doubted it was going to be an easy thing to achieve.
"Get some rest, we leave at nightfall." I turned and walked off toward the prison.
"Where are you going?" Thomas called after me.
"Research." I stepped through the tree line and into the dark forest.
I ran, avoiding any bushes or patches of mud by virtue of using the tiny amount of light on offer. The Guan Do occasionally caught a branch, slicing it in two, the sound of it crashing to the ground echoing behind me, but I had little interest in removing the weapon, or repositioning it. If anyone was out there and came to investigate... well, it wouldn't end happily for them.
After a few minutes, the trees began to thin out, sunlight crept back in through the densely packed leaves above me, and I slowed down. By the time I'd reached the edge of the forest I was walking slowly, careful not to give my position away to anyone watching.
The good news was that the prison wasn't surrounded by a moat. Unfortunately, that was where the good news ended. I sat at the top of a steep hill. The only thing between me and the ten-yard high stone walls of the outer ring of the prison, was a huge expanse of open space.
I could see inside the prison grounds from my vantage point. After the sheer walls, there was a large courtyard, with three buildings feeding off from it. Two of them were quite small. Armed soldiers, none of them with any marking to tell country or allegiance, came and went from one of them, suggesting it was the barracks. It was about the right size to house twenty men. Maybe fewer if they had a lot of equipment.
Smoke rose from the chimney of the second, smaller building. It was probably the kitchen.
The last building was the most interesting. It was also the most imposing, as it resembled an actual castle. At least five floors high, and maybe ten times the size of the other two buildings combined, it would be like a maze in there. And that was if it didn't have any below ground levels, which didn't seem likely even as I thought it.
The sun decided to expose my hiding spot and I moved further to one side, partially concealing myself behind a large tree. The outer ring of the prison had a walkway, with crossbow-wielding archers moving along it. There were also several armed guards at the front gate.
Across an open stretch of ground, up ten yards of rock wall, past several archers all watching for an attack, across a courtyard and past the barracks. And after all that we had to gain entry to the main building, find those we were here to rescue, and kill Mordred. Maybe I should have gone back to England first and collected an entire army before attempting to carry out this mission.
I tried to find somewhere that we could get inside without being filled full of arrows before we were even halfway there, but found very few options. Then one thing occurred to me. If there wasn't an entrance, make your own.
*****
"Tell us this plan again?" Thomas said.
I'd explained it three times, but neither Thomas nor Ivy seemed to like it anymore than the first time. "We get in, Ivy shows us where everyone is kept, and we get out."
"It's more the getting in portion of the plan I'm not too fond of," Thomas said.
"What about killing Mordred?" Ivy asked.
"You get everyone out. I'll find Mordred. You just wait for me to distract the guards and then you get inside."
Thomas sighed. "If this place is as you described, we've got no chance. Those walls will be thicker than my arm is long."
"It'll be fine." I looked up at the setting sun. "We need to leave soon. Get yourselves ready."
Thomas walked off to the woods so we didn't have to watch him change. "What am I going to use as a weapon?" Ivy asked.
I hadn't thought about that. Thomas was pretty much sorted for killing equipment, as was I, but Ivy's entire offensive abilities came from harsh language and shouting loudly. I drew out a silver dagger, the same one I'd used to kill the French soldier back in the village, and passed it to her. "Only if necessary. I'd rather you not go all barbarian horde on me and run screaming at a bunch of crossbow-wielding Frenchmen."
Ivy took the dagger and unsheathed it, weighing it thoughtfully in her hand, before replacing it. She kept hold of the sheathed dagger and stared at it for a moment longer. "I've never killed before."
"Don't start now then," I said. "Unfortunately killing gets easier the more you do it, so don't begin that tally unless you have no choice. Otherwise run like hell and hide."
"I won't fail you, or my sister," Ivy said.
"I know," I said with honesty, as Thomas appeared and sat at the edge of the forest. "You ready?"
He nodded once and growled slightly. He still had trouble speaking in werewolf form. It would come with time, but that wasn't soon enough for him. Besides, being able to bite a person's head off was a lot more useful than conversation. He was still sore from the changes every night. He hid it well, but the pain was easy to read on his face when he changed back into human form. I hoped he wasn't pushing himself too hard.
The night had fully taken its place around us, only a glimmer of moonlight made it through the thick clouds. Although I could see at night with a little help from magic, and Thomas' night vision was as good as a wolf's, Ivy couldn't see more than a foot in front of her. Thomas had offered to carry her, but she refused. If we met with any immediate trouble, Thomas would be unable to involve himself until Ivy was safe. So she opted to walk beside the giant wolf, holding onto his fur. Thomas moved around anything
that could cause her to fall or make a lot of noise.
I moved off in front, ensuring there were no ambushes waiting for us when we reached the forest's edge. I crouched close to where I'd been earlier in the day and searched for the guards walking along the high walls. Concern crept through me as I waited for my companions.
"What's wrong?" Ivy asked as she moved next to me.
"Watch the prison. The walls, what do you see?"
She stared straight ahead for several heartbeats. "Nothing."
"That's it, there's nothing there. No one is walking the walls or guarding the entrance." I looked over at Thomas. "Can you smell anyone?"
He raised his head into the air and took several deep breaths, before letting out a low growl. "D...eath," he managed in a low rumble.
"What does that mean?" Ivy asked.
I set off in the direction of the front gate, moving quickly. I kept low, just in case my concern proved baseless and I needed to drop to the ground. I made it to the iron portcullis without incident. Two thick ropes held it up—whatever had happened took place with enough speed that the guards hadn't used the fort's defences. I waved Thomas and Ivy over, knowing that Thomas would be able to see me, before stepping through the entrance and into the courtyard beyond.
The torches attached around the large courtyard were still burning away. The light they created made it easy to see why Thomas had smelt death. I passed three dead bodies, before I'd even made it a few steps. "How did they die?" Ivy asked as she entered the courtyard with Thomas.
I knelt by one of the soldiers. He was slumped at the bottom of the stone wall I'd seen archers walking along earlier. His chin touched his chest. I moved his head slightly and saw the jagged circular wound, which had ripped through the centre of his throat. He'd died where he fell, his sword still in its scabbard.
Thomas prodded one of the dead bodies with his massive paw. The soldier was missing his arm. It lay a distance from the body, the sword still held in a useless grip. Thomas glanced around and pushed open the door to the closest building, the one I'd assumed was the kitchen. He walked inside and the smells of fresh cooking carried through the air. He returned a moment later with a shake of his head.
"What could have done this?" Ivy's words dripped with fear.
I opened the barracks door and found eighteen beds, nine along each wall. Five dead bodies occupied the beds closest to the door. Their blood saturated the walls and floor as the smell of death began to overwhelm me.
The men hadn't stood a chance, most were missing limbs, a few decapitated by their attacker before they'd even had time to react. More bodies were easy to spot at the far end of the room, weapons in hand. I walked through the mass of death and destruction and found that these men had died just as suddenly as their friends. One had tried to hide under the bed, he'd made it part of the way before something sliced him in half, just above his hips, spilling intestine and organs over the already slick floor.
I'd seen some horrific sights in my time, but the level of violence exhibited inside the barracks certainly ranked pretty high. Mordred had outdone himself in terms of brutality. I quickly left the building, ensuring the door was closed behind me.
"Mordred's cleaning up," I told Ivy and Thomas who were crouched by the entrance to the larger building. "He probably wanted everyone who was aware of what was happening here to vanish. He's planning to move his work."
Ivy's hand shot to her open mouth. "Mordred did this?"
"Thank you for thinking so highly of me," Mordred said.
I spun to find him standing atop the wall above the kitchen area.
"There was no need for this," I said. "You could have just vanished. We'd never have found you. But you stayed to kill, and that will be your mistake."
"I've killed no one," Mordred said with glee. "Didn't want to get my clothes dirty with French blood. It's a bastard to remove."
There was movement from above and I threw myself aside as someone crashed into the ground, throwing up loose dirt. The shockwave knocked me further than I'd anticipated, causing me to slam into a nearby stone wall. I got back to my feet in front of the kitchen as my would-be assailant slowly stood.
Thick, black, leathery skin stretched over every inch of its human-like body. The muscles in its arms and legs were massive, easily capable of causing devastation with the broadsword it held in one hand. It regarded me with cold, dispassionate eyes the colour of ice.
"I believe you've met a nightmare before," Mordred almost sang.
The creature known as a nightmare stepped toward me. Its movement was fluid, quick and deliberate, the broadsword held loosely by its side, as if it weighed nothing more than a child's toy.
I moved away from the building. My hand gripped the Guan Dao and I removed it from the holster on my back, holding it in a position that was ready to attack. There was maybe ten yards between us, but I knew from experience that the nightmare could close that distance within the blink of an eye.
Mordred raised one hand high into the air and the nightmare stopped moving, his gaze never wavering from me. "You wanted to know what I'm trying to achieve here, Nathanial. Well here it is." He motioned toward the evil creature. "The ultimate weapon for use against the English, or the French. Or to be honest, anyone who gets in my way."
"That used to be a person," I said. "He was a sorcerer. You've committed a crime against magic in turning him into this."
"Really? And will Avalon send someone to kill me? You're a fool if you believe they didn't know what was happening here."
"Merlin doesn't."
Mordred spat at his feet. "Merlin is too set in his ways to be useful. You'd best remember that." He smiled brightly. "For the next few minutes anyway, then you'll be too dead to bother me any longer. Enjoy yourself, Nathanial. I'll be sure to send pieces of your corpse back to Merlin." Mordred dropped down behind the building, vanishing from view. The nightmare charged, his sword swinging forward with an ease that should have been impossible.
I rolled aside as the blade smashed into the wall, rendering the brick to dust. I came back to my feet a short distance away, ready for the next assault. The nightmare turned toward me, dropped the sword and darted forward, hands out to strike. Thomas slammed into it, driving it into the nearest wall with an explosion of sound. Thomas' movements were a blur as he tore huge chunks out of the nightmare, goring its face and chest in an attempt to kill it.
"Thomas..." I started to shout, but it was too late. Blasts of magical energy hit him square in the chest throwing him back across the courtyard and into the wall beside Ivy.
Thomas crashed somewhere behind me. I didn't dare turn my back on the nightmare, or I'd be dead in seconds.
It moved toward me, its face and chest, which had been a mass of raw flesh only moments previously, already knitting itself back together. It darted to one side, scooped up the broadsword and swung it at me, all in one smooth motion. I deflected the attack with the Guan Dao, forcing his blade upward. I stepped toward the creature, slashing at its face, but catching nothing but air as it dodged away.
"Thomas will be okay," Ivy called. "He's not going to be any help though."
I didn't bother replying, my concentration was needed elsewhere. The nightmare tried another swing, this one aimed at my hips to try and cleave me in two, but I blocked it with the Guan Dao's blade. The power of the impact took me off my feet and dumped me on the ground a few yards away. The nightmare didn't pause, it came at me with another swing of the broadsword, striking nothing but earth when I rolled aside just in time. The dust and air struck the side of my face, reminding me how close I'd come to losing my head.
I kept rolling and struck at the nightmare's chest with the sharp spike on the end of the Guan Dao, but once again it dodged aside. I needed to get some space between us, to try and figure out how I was going to kill him. Or at least stop him from killing me.
I sprung up and dashed forward, slashing the Guan Dao's blade up at the nightmare's face. He deflected it, leavi
ng him open for the jet of flame I smashed into him, driving him back into the wall of the barracks. Magic might not be able to kill a nightmare, but it was still good to use as a distance maker.
"Get Thomas inside the prison," I called to Ivy. "And don't come out."
The nightmare got back to its feet and lifted the broadsword, pointing the tip of the blade toward me. It looked angry. Or as angry as something can possibly manage with no emotions. Its black lips opened and it spat a lump of dark, thick blood onto the ground.
The nightmare took a step forward, and charged. I dodged a sweep of the blade. The nightmare shifted its stance and tried to stab at me, driving me back toward the nearest wall. I avoided another powerful swing of the blade, but he caught me with a punch to the jaw that hit with enough force to knock me from my feet. I landed awkwardly on the ground, losing my grip on my Guan Dao, which clattered beside me allowing the nightmare to kick it aside as I rolled back to my feet.
With his attention diverted for a split second, I kicked him hard in the elbow, snapping it with a loud crack. The nightmare opened its mouth and a sound escaped that would have left no one in doubt that there was nothing but a monster left inside the creature. It staggered away and grasped its forearm, snapping the elbow back into place with another cry of pain.
Then it turned its attention back to me. I was already on my feet when it charged with a guttural roar. There was no way I could beat a nightmare in a one on one fistfight. They can kill werewolves with their bare hands. But I still had options.
I slammed a powerful tornado of air into the monster’s legs, tripping it before it got too close. But it didn't work, the nightmare recovered at the last second and barrelled into me, lifting me from the ground and running with me into the barracks wall. Wood and stone broke around us. The nightmare refused to let go, crushing my ribs until they popped, before finally throwing me further into the barracks.
I landed on one of the dead soldiers and skidded off onto the sticky wet floor, eventually slamming into the adjacent wall. It was difficult to breathe, difficult to think, but I had to get back to my feet or I was dead. The nightmare was beside me in an instant, lifting me from the ground by my tunic and throwing me back across the room and into the remains of the far wall. Any breath I'd caught left me once again, and dark spots began to form on the edges of my vision. The only way to kill a nightmare was with silver, but they're too fast and strong to get close to easily.