Knights, Witches, and Those Who Walk in the Night: Epic Fantasy Thriller (A Calec of the Woods Mystery Thriller Book 7) by R.M. Schultz

Author:R.M. Schultz [Schultz, R.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sky Sea and Sword Publishing
Published: 2023-05-21T16:00:00+00:00

27

Calec cursed as he picked his way through dense forest near the lakeshore. Darkness fell all around him, blotting out much of the detail of the surrounding trunks. Moonlight stole through the trees with its pale silver glow.

He could either set up camp for the night and hope he didn’t draw a shambler to him and that he wouldn’t miss any big events happening at the outpost, or he could try to return to Menataun by following the river. He might not arrive until late, but he could be back before any more beheadings occurred at dawn. Unless this forest and the darkness slowed him down far too much.

He glanced back at the island.

A pale form darted between tree and brush and hovered in the shadows beneath an alder.

A shudder ran up Calec’s spine. He would have to return for Tomain at some point during the day and ferry him back across the lake. But the more pressing concern weighing on his mind was that the murdering shambler at the outpost had to be discovered or more and more people would die. And not only its victims. All those who carried the old blood.

Calec strayed away from the margins of the lake to find more solid footing and less dense foliage before following the sound of the river. He pressed through the forest, his sword in hand as he paced as quickly as he could.

A couple hours or so later, he passed the river island, a dark blot on the moon-frosted waters.

Another hour passed before he neared the woods outside Menataun and located the main trail.

Something moved along the moonlit path ahead, a cloaked figure. It shuffled off to the side of the trail.

Calec raised his sword, his knife already in hand before he even realized he’d pulled the second weapon.

Zarnon wears a brown cloak.

But this cloak was black.

At least the person wasn’t big enough to be a shambler.

Calec froze and waited, watching this figure as memories of his dreams and of the Horseman roving the woods stormed through his mind.

The figure hunched over and dug through the needles on the forest floor.

“Best be careful this time of night,” the figure said aloud as if to Calec. It was a man’s voice, old and feeble. It sounded like old man Klein, the mushroom hunter. “The outpost is that way.”

Calec waited in silence, and the man pointed toward Menataun. Calec hoped the man was conversing with someone else.

After the man picked a few things up from within the needles, he stood straighter, although he was still hunched through his upper back. He stared in Calec’s direction, his eyes blue and cloudy under a pool of moonlight. Klein, indeed.

“Do you not speak after night has fallen, stranger?” Klein asked.

Calec relaxed and cleared his throat. “I wasn’t sure you were talking to me.”

“Who else is fool enough to wander these woods at night?” He spread his hands wide and laughed. “Besides you and me and the shambler?”

Calec’s skin tingled in warning. Was this man going to turn into the shambler he’d seen the night before?

No bandages covered his hands.

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