A Kingdom Falls (The Mancer Trilogy Book 1) (11 page)

“Then go.”

“Your Majesty.”  With a short bow, William walked out of the room and onto the balcony.

The daylight was just starting to fade away as William gripped the guardrail on the balcony and looked out across the lake.  A harsh cold winter breeze swept off the freezing water and made the dead leaves at William’s feet swirl and dance.

Shadow Killer ignored the leaves and the cold.  Instead, he stared at the rugged mountains in the distance.  “
Samuel Cregg dead.  Red Claw dead.  Black Talon dead.  Death Claw gone.  The kingdom on the brink of disaster,”
he thought, morbidly, to himself, “
and me
,
Shadow Killer –”
Shadow Killer
snorted,
“a shadow of his former self.” 
A look of deep sadness appeared on Shadow Killer’s face as he spoke aloud but quietly to the uncaring lake.  “I am but a shadow of my former self.  For the first time in a long time, I feel vulnerable and not in control.”  Shadow Killer bowed his head and closed his eyes.  “I am all alone.  My best friend, Samuel Cregg,” a gentle smile crept onto Shadow Killer’s face, “died this week. “  The smile vanished.  “A good man died and only I seem to care.”

Unmoving, Shadow Killer stood lost in his own morbid thoughts as the cold wind blew around him, unnoticed.

Time lost all meaning as he stood there, and it was only with a great deal of will that he finally opened his eyes and stared at the ground, where the leaves continued their dancing.  “
No one cares
,” he whispered.  “You live and then you die, and no one cares.”  Raising his eyes, Shadow Killer looked deep into the cold dark water.  A thought leapt into his head.  “
Death by drowning is supposed to be relatively painless.
”

The breeze seemed to whisper, “
Yes
.”

Shadow Killer looked around before returning to the water – the deep dark, almost midnight-black water.  “I am only half a man.”

“
Yes,”
the breeze agreed.

“I am vulnerable and tired.”

“Yes… tired.”

Shadow Killer stared into the hypnotic midnight water, as it called to him.  “Need to rest.”

“
A long peaceful rest
,” the breeze encouraged.

“Death, the eternal rest, will claim me soon...”

“
Soon
,” the breeze repeated.

“...and I am powerless against it.”

“
Powerless
,” agreed the breeze.

Shadow Killer gripped the rail harder and prepared to throw himself off the balcony and into the beckoning water when a single word, suddenly and quite unexpectedly, popped into his awareness.  “
Tea
?”

Shadow Killer stopped.

The breeze whispered, “
Embrace the midnight black
.”

An image of roaring fire and a kindly face formed in Shadow Killer’s mind.  “
More tea, my friend?”
said the friendly face.

Shadow Killer took a step back.  “Samuel?”

“
Leap!
” urged the breeze.

Shadow Killer shook his head to clear it of the fog that had taken hold.  In horror, Shadow Killer looked at the balcony, then at the water of the lake, in which a shadowy silhouette of a man stared back for a moment before disappearing into the depths.

“You bastard!” growled Shadow Killer as the rage started to build within him.  “You fucking bastard!  You nearly had me.”  Shadow Killer paced the balcony.  “I
knew! 
I just knew that you and that cult of yours were back.  I may not have the resources I used to, but I knew it.”  Shadow Killer slowed his pacing and stole a glance at the door, which led back into the warm room where the Queen and the others were debating the debt.

“Sod it.  I’ll only be gone for a moment,” he muttered to himself and opened a shadow-door.

***

100 Miles away – A Monastery dedicated to the Cult of Mancer.

Captain Peter Hazelgrove and Captain Andrew Moore were taking an evening stroll in the monastery garden.  There had been a hard frost and all the evergreen leaves glittered silver in the moonlight.

“Quite breathtakingly beautiful,” said Hazelgrove.

“True,” agreed Moore.

“Agreed,” said Shadow Killer as he stepped from the shadows.  “Now tell me about the true Mancer Prophecy.”

“I… I don’t know what you mean,” answered Moore, who had recovered first.

Shadow Killer stood in front of the two men, proud and unafraid.  “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” stated Hazelgrove.

“I am Shadow Killer, the last of the great Dev’vers.  I am he who walks in the shadows and sees all, and not twenty minutes ago, the Midnight Man tried to kill me.”

“You have seen The Midnight Man?” asked Hazelgrove.

“Yes, he and his dark Brethren are very much alive,“ stated Shadow Killer, “and both are poised to return, as prophesied by the Dark Prophecy or to give it it’s more common name – the Mancer Prophecy.”

“You know your prophecy, Shadow Killer,” said Moore, “and, as such, you should know how it ends, and I quote – ‘
Nothing can stop Him, for He lives inside us all.  We should all kneel and praise Him, for He is the ONE TRUE GOD!  He is the Midnight Man and He cometh
!’”

“That, indeed, is the ending, according to the Craktoneons and the other elements of the Church, but tell me why it’s called the Mancer Prophecy?  In fact, tell me why you were so keen to have any version of the prophecy called the Mancer Prophecy.  The more I think about it, the more it does not make sense.  I could understand the Dark Prophecy or the Craktoneon Prophecy.”  Shadow Killer paused for a moment and cocked his head.  “Also, why are you two casually talking to me?  I have just appeared out of nowhere, told you that I am a great Dev’ver, and you hardly bat an eyelid.”

Peter and Andrew turned to each other as they silently pondered a reply.  Finally, Captain Peter Hazelgrove turned to Shadow Killer and said, “We have been waiting a long time to meet you.”

“Meet me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“We need to ask you a question, Shadow Killer.”

***

Rage and anger burned through the entity and it felt good.  It had failed in its attempt to kill Shadow Killer and that was unforgivable, although, on the plus side, the strength of emotions following the failure was simply delicious.  The rage, the anger, the… sense of failure, they all came together to make it feel alive.

Alive!!! 
How it so much wanted to be alive again – to touch, to feel, to experience every emotion possible.  The entity giggled to itself as it thought, “
Soon, I will take what is rightfully mine.  Soon, I will return in the flesh to this world, for I am the Midnight Man and I cometh,
” the Midnight Man’s thought took a more sinister tone, “
and no one will be able to stop me
.”

***

“You need to ask me a question,” stated Shadow Killer, taken aback.

“Yes,” replied Andrew Moore.

“Well, then... ask.”

“What was Hubert Mancer really like?” asked Peter.

Shadow Killer studied both men, carefully.  “Why?”

Andrew Moore took a deep breath.  “The Cult of Mancer has gone through many changes.  We started out as a warrior cult with Sir Richard Heart as our leader.”

“I am aware of that.”

“He and the cult embraced the legends and fables that surrounded Mancer.  You must beware of them.”

“Oh, yes.”

Moore gave a resigned smile.  “Whatever you think or know about that, Shadow Killer, we did hold the line at the Battle of Crescent Plain.”  Moore’s voice waivered, slightly, “We took huge casualties, but we held the line.”

“I know you did,” Shadow Killer tapped his fingers against his thigh, “but the victory was tainted by the death of King Karl Rothgal, the massacre at the field hospital, and the disappearance of Richard Heart.”

“Yes,” both men agreed, sadly.

“We became a shadow of our former selves,” began Peter, “and split into two factions – the warrior chapter, which went on to serve with distinction at the last Great War, and a monastic chapter, which was tasked to discover the truth behind Mancer.”

Shadow Killer looked puzzled.  “I seem to be asking this a lot, but – why?”

“Why the need for the truth?”

“Yes.”

“We needed to know if the sacrifice of so many men was worth it.  We needed to know if the code we live and die by – ‘
We stand when no one else will’
– was a fabric of lies or if there was an element of truth in it.”  Peter shrugged his shoulders.

“Does it actually matter?” said Shadow Killer.

“Of course it matters!”  Andrew eyes were bright with anger.  “Of course it matters,” he repeated, calming himself as he spoke.  “If there is truth in the legend, then our men died upholding a noble belief.  If the legend was all lies, then they died for nothing.”

“Semantics,” Shadow Killer scorned.  Eyeing the men carefully, he continued, “Why do you need me?”

“The truth?”

“I prefer it.”

Andrew took a deep breath.  “The legend and myth is too much interwoven with the truth that it is impossible to tell which is which.  We needed to talk with someone who had been around when Hubert Mancer was alive, who knew him.”

“But we could not just march in and ask you,” added Peter.

“True,” agreed Shadow Killer.

“So we set a trap, or a puzzle, if you prefer.”

“For me?”

“Yes,” admitted Peter, “we know you don’t like secrets or mysteries, so we created one by claiming the Dark Prophecy as ours and insisting it was known as the Mancer Prophecy.”

“So once you had captured me, how were you going to stop me killing you?” grinned Shadow Killer.

“Our prophecy has an additional verse.”

Very slowly and very deliberately, Shadow Killer said, “An additional verse.”

“Yes,” both men replied.

“I knew there was something else.”  Shadow Killer rubbed his chin.  “And what does this additional verse say?”

“What was Mancer like?”

“How do I know there is an additional verse?”

“How do we know you will tell the truth about Mancer?”

“You don’t.”

“Then we seem to be at stand-off.”

“Unfortunately,” said Peter, sadly.

Shadow Killer sighed and closed his eyes.  He did not have time to play this game.  He needed to get back to the palace.  “So you want to know about Hubert Mancer?”

“Yes,” they both replied.

Shadow Killer turned to look at the two men.  “Then let me tell you a story of his youth.  It was during one of the many border wars between Zarekland and Yeris.  Mancer’s regiment, the Third Lowland Regiment of the kingdom of Zarekland, was stationed near the border.  His company, the Fifth, was defending a section of the line near a local farm.  This farm had become a refuge for local women and children fleeing the horrors of the fighting.

“Information had come through that the enemy was going to make a push near the farmhouse within the hour.  The officer in charge of the company decided that they should pull back a mile down the road and dig in.  When the sergeant asked about the women and children, he was told they were acceptable losses.

“As the company was starting to march away, Mancer broke ranks, went up to the officer, and slid his dagger into the man’s belly.  Walking away from the dying man, Mancer drew his sword and made his way to the farmhouse.

“He just stood there as everyone watched, shaking with suppressed rage and tears flowing from his eyes.  Then, a huge man called Ogre, who was the flagbearer, made his way to stand beside Mancer.  Silently, Ogre looked down at Mancer and unfurled the company flag and planted it firmly in the ground.

“Next, his Sergeant - Sergeant McKenzie - walked up to him and asked ‘Why?’.  Mancer silently turned his head and stared at his sergeant with a deep burning rage in his eyes and tears streaming down his face. He turned his gaze once more to the road leading to the farm.  Sergeant McKenzie then informed Mancer that, if he survived this battle, he would be on latrine duty for two months; then he stood next to him.