The Blood Witch (The Blood Reign Chronicles Book 1) (36 page)

The large man stopped his chewing, and put on a sour look as he turned to regard Nicoldani. He was obviously accustomed to people being intimidated by him because of his size, and was surprised at being spoken to in this manner. The man stood there a moment longer glaring at Nicoldani with no hint of fear in his eyes. After all, it was easy to be brave when you had seven more of your friends to back you up.

Finally the big man spoke again with a baleful look for Nicoldani, “Strange thing….our sheep start dying, getting ripped apart for no reason, and then you show up. We think you might be playing at the black magic or something. We think you might be in league with the witches. One of them witches was through here not long back, trying to stir up trouble. We think maybe you are killing our sheep in some evil rites for the witches.”

“That is absurd,” Benjim said incredulously, before moderating his tone. “We just arrived, a short time ago, and are only passing through. We do not seek any trouble.” The old man finished in a soothing tone, and wearing a warm grandfatherly smile.

The man ignored Benjim, and turned and spat again before continuing, “Then you got this here little girl with you. Did you decide sheep weren’t enough any more? Did you decide to move on to little girls instead?” The man said as he placed his hand on Gin’s head stroking her hair in a far too familiar way. Gin jerked out from underneath the big man’s hand and gave him a defiant look, but thankfully, she didn’t say anything. The situation was volatile enough as it was without her adding to it.

But Jak couldn’t hold his tongue and longer, “What?” He exclaimed in astonishment, “She is my sister.” Jak tried to compose himself, but glared flatly at the man across the table before saying in an icy tone, “she is my sister, keep your filthy hands off of her.”

“Is that so?” the man said, laughing raucously before returning Jak’s defiant glare. Then he turned to spit again. “Pretty big talk from a little man, what are you going to do about it?”

It was one thing, this man trying to bully them, but if he was threatening Gin, then the man was making a fatal mistake. The man continued glaring at Jak, but when Jak wouldn’t drop his gaze or respond to his prodding, the hairy-chested man finally said, “Whatever……we just don’t want you here no more.”

“We were just leaving for our rooms,” Benjim said with a pleasant smile.

“You don’t get it old man, we want you gone … you need to leave town…now! That is unless you want us to make you leave?” The stranger said threateningly, his fingers clinching as he took a small step to one side.

Before Jak had time to even think, the man had snatched Gin from her chair and was seizing her in one arm, with a knife in his other hand. “But we’ll be keeping the girl for you,” the man said with a wicked smile.

The man had made a serious mistake by not holding the knife to Gin’s throat. Instead, he was waving it threateningly out in front of him, and pointing it at Jak and the rest of the men at the table. Faster than Jak would have dreamed such a big man could move, Nicoldani was on his feet, grasping the other man’s knife hand, and twisting his arm around like a limp piece of rope.

The man cried out in pain as bones snapped and cracked under Nicoldani’s grasp. The knife fell to the floor from the other man’s now useless hand, and Nicoldani shoved him hard to the floor. Gin broke free and ran to throw her arms around Jak’ neck for protection.

The three men at the bar responded by drawing their weapons, and starting forward towards the fray, but before they even made it halfway across the intervening space to the table, Nicoldani had his sword in hand and had reached them first.

The beauty and grace of Nicoldani’s movements were a striking contrast to the blood that spurted and flowed from the wounds that he dealt to the three men.

Jak was still sitting at the table, too entranced by the artistic, almost elegant way that Nicoldani sliced his way through the three would-be attackers. Nicoldani did not actually slay any of them, only wounded them sufficiently to render them impotent to the fight. However, the blood that flowed began to make Jak’s thirst rise within him, and he wanted to drink the spilt blood, and lap it up from the floor.

The first large man who started the fight was now groping on the floor trying to pick up the knife he had dropped. He was finally able to grasp it with his one good hand, before lunging at Nicoldani’s back.

Jak tried to call out to Nicoldani to warn him but before he could utter a sound it was too late. In a blur, Nicoldani sensing the impending attack, spun with his sword extended, and the other man’s weight carried him onto the blade. The man’s eyes bulged with shock and surprise before he toppled backwards, sliding off the blade of Nicoldani’s sword to land on the floor. His chest heaved as he rasping a few gurgling last breaths then he stopped moving.

Everyone in the room stared in stunned silence for a moment before the remaining men at the bar bolted towards the door. It seemed they had lost their appetite for fighting, and were now more interested in running away.

Nicoldani turned and said sternly, “We don’t have much time. We need to get our things from the rooms and be gone before those men come back with more of the townsfolk. They will be back as soon as they can gather enough people.”

Jak didn’t need to be told twice, he along with the others collected their belongings as quickly as they could, and ran out the door towards the stables where their horses were kept. Unfortunately, Jak was a little too slow since he had stopped to help Gin with her things.

As he burst through the doors and entered the street, he was greeted by shouts and curses that could be heard coming from further down the street. He and the others wouldn’t be able to get to the horses, and get clear before the approaching villagers were upon them. He noticed that Nicoldani had stopped, and was facing the oncoming angry crowd. The big man gave Jak a shove in the direction of the stables. “Go, Go get the horses I will hold them off. Hurry!”

Jak spotted Benjim and Gin who were already halfway to the stables. He turned back towards Nicoldani, to see the angry crowd was almost upon the big man. There were too many of them, he thought. Nicoldani was extraordinarily good with his sword, but Jak didn’t think there was any way the big man could hold off this many angry villagers by himself. The sheer numbers would overpower even Nicoldani.

Nicoldani braced himself for the assault from the oncoming mob. Jak hesitated only a moment before turning and rushing headlong into the crowd of oncoming villagers, knocking them flying and tumbling to the ground. Jak had hit the first man in the crowd with such force that the man lay on the ground, his body twisted and unmoving.

Jak quickly leapt to his feet with his dagger in hand. It was the dagger he had gotten from the dead mordji in the cave where the witch had been. He didn’t even remember drawing the blade from his belt but it was in his hand now all the same.

He cut and slashed his way through the villagers, who were all the while trying to kill him. As he fought, he could hear the clash of steel on steel behind him as Nicoldani struggled with foes of his own.

Jak was not nearly as good at fighting as Nicoldani, and as a result was taking many wounds and cuts, but he somehow knew that his wounds didn’t really matter much. Nevertheless, despite the injuries he was taking, most of the men around him now lay on the ground either dead or dying.

Nicoldani was struggling with twice the number of men as had gathered around Jak. But now Jak heard more shouting, and saw many more villagers rushing down the street in the direction of the fray. He glanced at Nicoldani who so far was still holding his own against the impossible odds. But he and Nicoldani needed to somehow get out of here. There were too many villagers to overcome, and if they continued this way, it would be him and Nicoldani who would be overcome, and be killed in the end.

As Jak was surveying the situation, he abruptly felt a sharp pain in the center of his back like someone had punched him hard enough to knock his breath out. He looked down to see two feet of steel blade protruding from his gut.

He stared at the blade in stunned curiosity, as it seemed to slowly recede back into his body. Dropping to his knees, he grasped his stomach where the blade had just been. His hands were soaking wet with his own blood that was leaking from the wound.

It was strange that the wound didn’t hurt as much as he thought it should. But even so, he was getting weaker by the moment, and he could feel his strength slowly draining away.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed the man who had dealt him the wound, walking around from behind him to stand in front. The man was holding a sword that was dripping with Jak’s blood, and he was wearing a wicked, triumphant smile.

Jak could tell that Nicoldani had seen what had happened and was trying to make his way over to help.

The man with the sword smiled viciously at Jak as he raised his sword overhead like an axe. Jak was certain if the man swung the sword that he would die.

Someone help me,
Jak thought helplessly to himself, but at the same instant, he knew what he had to do. He didn’t want to do it, he had fought so hard to suppress it, but he had no choice because if he didn’t, he would surely die. There were no other options left except to let this man kill him, but Jak didn’t want to die just yet, so he surrendered himself to the thirst.

Reaching deep inside, and calling on the last bit of strength he had left, Jak pounced forward catching the man with the sword in mid-swing. The sword flew from the man’s hand end over end to fall in the dirt.

Jak sank his teeth viciously into the man’s neck, tearing flesh and tendons, the blood flowed freely, and Jak drank deeply, ravenously of the man’s life blood. He could feel the life pouring into him, surging through his body, and his strength returning slowly at first, but the more he drank the greater it became until it was even greater than before. The euphoria and bliss poured over him in waves as he drank the sweet blood. Once the man’s life was drained out completely, it left Jak wanting more.

Jak stood and turned, with blood dripping from his face and mouth, to rejoin the melee, only to see that everyone had stopped, and was staring at him. The villagers wore looks of horror and revulsion on their faces, and shied away from him in fear. Nicoldani stood his ground, but even he had a look of disapproval and disdain on his face.

It almost seemed to Jak as if he were floating in a dream, or nightmare. Everyone was moving slowly, and seemed a long ways off. It was almost as if feeding on the man had made Jak drunk in a way. It filled him, and made him feel alive, but at the same time, he felt hollow inside, and he needed more of the precious liquid to fill the emptiness.

“Come, Come, we must go,” Jak heard Benjim crying somewhere behind him. Jak turned and spotted Benjim and Gin, who were mounted and holding the reigns of the other horses. Nicoldani wasted no time turning and running for the horses.

Jak stood there a moment longer eying the villagers, with the thirst surging within him. The villager’s faces seemed to be contorted and strange looking, and some of the men seemed on the verge of rushing Jak in an attempt to kill him. While others backed away as if he carried a contagious disease that they might be in danger of catching.

Was he dreaming?
Sometimes it was hard to tell when the thirst would come upon Jak. He could hear cries of ‘devil’, and ‘demon’, from deep in the crowd. He thought to himself that perhaps he was a demon, or at least was becoming one. He wasn’t really sure what he was anymore, but one thing was sure, he wasn’t the boy from Elsdon any longer.

Jak toyed with the thought of plunging into the mob, and either feasting on them, or ending himself and the terrible thing he had become. After all, if it was a dream then perhaps he would wake, and be back in Elsdon with everything the way it should be. Perhaps everything had been a dream, and he would wake in the cave lying next to Brigette. The thought of ending this whole nightmare was seductively tempting to Jak.

Suddenly, in the distance behind the villagers, Jak spotted dim, faint, dark shadowy figures creeping through the streets behind the townsfolk. They looked almost like the shadow of a wolf, but much larger, with some being almost the size of small horses.
What were they? Had he somehow called these creatures?
He knew he could command Frog, and to some degree the wolves in the mountains. The question suddenly came to him through the fog and haze of the thirst,
where was Frog?

He wordlessly called to Frog, and the dog suddenly appeared, with blood dripping from his mouth. Apparently, Frog had come when he called for help a few moments earlier. Jak hadn’t really intended the call for help in that way. It was an appeal to a higher power to save him. Nevertheless, it seemed……something had answered his call. Were these dark shadows coming to his aid as well?

Jak locked gazes with the yellow eyes of the foremost approaching shadow. It seemed in a way to recognize him. He tentatively willed a silent command to the shadow. “Don’t kill the people…….just frighten them a bit, and let us get away.” The shadowy figure stopped and looked straight at Jak with what he almost thought was………contemplation.
Were these creatures intelligent? Could they actually understand him and reason things out?
The shadowy beast seemed to be considering Jak’s
request
.