Heroes of Hastovia Book 2 by Mark Boutros

Author:Mark Boutros [Boutros, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mark Boutros

Ghost Town

They travelled through the night and the next day, sleeping on their horses and taking turns to lead the pack.

Karl struggled to rest with Arazod nearby. He remembered rescuing Arazod from the Lionbear lair a few years ago, only to be kicked off a cliff as a thank you.

Karl spoke to Oaf to shift his mind. He’d missed him so much and wanted to reassure him they would save his boy, but Oaf was more intent on asking the questions.

‘What’s it like, killing?’ Oaf asked.

Karl felt the weight of Oaf’s pain. His people had never killed, but now the darkness of the world tortured him.

‘It’s horrible,’ Karl said. He’d killed a Fool, Man-Hawks and now warriors. ‘And those I’ve killed were at the mercy of someone else. Prisoners in some nonsense cause or greed.’

Oaf nodded and sniffled.

Karl knew if it came to it Oaf would kill for his boy and Questions, but he also knew it would change him forever.

Karl stroked his humped horse’s neck. ‘My choices were kill or be killed, so I learned to get better at using a sword so I could defend first. I was told a weapon should be used first to prevent death, instead of trying to cause it.’

Frong smiled. ‘Like Sags taught you.’

Karl nodded. ‘Well, he did say it with a grunt so it really could have been anything.’ Sags’ face was dry and cracked.

‘Good point.’ Frong turned to Oaf. ‘Weapons only became destructive when the first tribe invaded a castle. It was all shields before, used in battles to knock each other out. There was an unspoken agreement that battles wouldn’t be to the death, but rather the loser would be the first knocked unconscious. But when the biggest people kept winning, underhanded tactics and weapons came to be. Then it was a race to see who could invent the most powerful weapons, and battle became more and more attack-based.’

Karl felt a pang of relief. Frong telling a story nobody needed to hear was a sign of progress.

The night sun filled the sky and the walls of Jermal grew on the horizon.

When the group arrived they stood ten or so paces from the arch. That still wasn’t far enough for Karl.

The Spirit Queen’s shrieking quickened and she stared at the cart of dead bodies. Frong ordered everyone to take only what they needed. They would need to travel light and be prepared to run.

‘Why? Why at night?’ Karl complained.

Frong stroked Sags’ face. ‘She’s not interested in us,’ he told Karl and approached the Spirit Queen. He crouched and met her eyes.

Even though Karl knew she couldn’t harm anyone, he feared some power would see her grab Frong and devour him.

‘I’m sorry you’re in this condition,’ Frong said. ‘But we need to pass.’

She flashed her crooked teeth at him. He stepped through her and walked onto a narrow bridge that stretched over a man-made drop to a spiky death.

Stone columns and spotless tiles lined the bridge all the way to the perfectly preserved, abandoned, stunning city.

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