The Forsaken: Descent by Martin Ferguson

Author:Martin Ferguson [Ferguson, Martin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-09-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The Ruined Fortress Of Karnock

For the night, a member of Wraith’s, Aederan’s, and Sir Antonius Lockwood’s group provided the guard and kept watch for the giants and any other threats. The groups mostly kept to themselves, although all could hear the blustering of Sir Antonius as he barked orders at his squires and hired cronies. Food was prepared and eaten, the past day’s exploits discussed and plans made for what they would do come morning. Wraith and her group had already decided the northern crypts housed nothing of worth and would remain sealed away and forgotten, once Fenrix and Jaks had the strength to block the entrance once again. Instead, they would focus on the eastern tombs, despite the warning that they had already been plundered. Their hope was that they could find something, anything, that had been missed.

All but Jaks had fed on the rabbits and birds hunted by Raven in the nearby woods, the fiend preferring the vegetables and herbs she brought in her pack to the offered meat. The sorcerer sat with eyes closed in a peaceful trance, and Quinlan worked on his crossbows, applying oil to the mechanisms. Raven had eagerly taken her turn on watch, keen to avoid her companions after the harrowing events earlier. Fenrix snored gently by the fire. The weyre’s injuries had been seen to by the gnome known as Badger, despite his snarled protests. The druid had applied ointments and salves to his wounds, muttering her language with all nearby oblivious to her meaning. Fenrix was given a concoction and quickly fell to slumber curled up by the warmth of the fire, Badger fast asleep with her head leant against the wolf’s back.

Wraith sat by her party’s campfire, readying her equipment for the coming day; a habit when trying to control nerves. What they had seen in the northern crypt and their escape weighed heavy on their minds, as did the voice they had heard. The most shocking of all the discoveries to her though, was the Athscar tomb, the grave of one of her ancestors. She could discuss it with no one, not even Raven, who knew of her haunted past but did not want to talk to anyone at this time. The Slayer lifted her shortsword to the light, gazing upon the barely visible arrowhead symbol etched into the blade. Memories long forgotten of family and home kept coming to her. She could see their faces, hear their voices, and recalled their names for the first time since that terrible night in the snow. Instinctively, her hand found its way to her arrowhead pendant.

‘I heard tales that this place was haunted,’ Quinlan said as he pulled free a part of the crossbow mechanism and scrubbed it clean. ‘Ghosts of the dead from the Dark Days battles, or the slaughter of the Lockwoods. You think that was the voice we heard down there?’

‘Perhaps,’ Wraith said, lost in her own thoughts.

‘If you look to the battlements, there are shadows moving,’ Jaks said, with eyes still closed.

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