Westhaven by Rowan Erlking (ebook audio reader .txt) 📖

and he certainly will not find out where you are. Understand. I won’t allow it.”

“But how can you stop him?” Key stared up into his face. “He’s got technology. I still haven’t figured out how to make those pistols.”

With his usual assuring smile, Kleston said, “Maybe we can’t. We’re not ready to take him on yet. You’re right. But even if I die, General Gole will never find out about you.”

“But what about you?” Key shouted, clinging to Kleston’s arms now.

Shrugging, Kleston stood up. “I’ve fought a good fight. I’ve revenged the traitors that led to your father’s death. And if I can kill General Gole, I’m going to go for it.”

Key stared at him with panic. “But—”

“No buts.” Kleston set a hand on Key’s head. “I can’t abandon my post. Not yet. But I want you to clear out tonight with a few from the camp, just in case we fail. I don’t want to know where you’re going. But if we succeed, I’ll meet up with you again some day. You can count on it.”

He then nodded to their leader.

“You decide if you want to clear the camp now or later. But keep him safe,” Kleston said. “Now I need to go and talk to the witch about some poisons. Can you tell me of his whereabouts?”

The men immediately went into whispers, leaving Key out of it. The young man just stared at the man who had basically told him that he might never come back, the man who was the closest thing to a father that he had. Something inside Key screamed out. It shouted for him to not let Kleston go. However, the looks of that man that had taken him in and given him something to work towards told Key that he had to trust the plan Kleston had chosen to follow. General Winstrong would not find him, but he would lose all that cared about once more.

Kleston departed camp as the sun was setting, or at least tried to. Key stopped him on the edge of the camp, thrusting out his sheathed dagger.

“Take this,” Key said. “If you are going to kill the general, use this.”

Blinking at it, Kleston took the dagger from Key’s hands. “But you were going to use it to kill him.”

“If you do it, I won’t have to,” Key said, stepping back. “But I want that dagger to be the one in his chest.”

Nodding, Kleston clenched the dagger tightly, squeezing the leather sheath. “You have my word.”

He turned and walked away.

Key watched the shrubs rustle as the man disappeared into the forest, hoping that he would meet him again.

*

“What’s all this?” the storekeeper shouted as the Sky Child soldiers raided his shop.

They shot the man square in the chest, and he toppled backward over a barrel of pickled eggs. The troops stormed right through, knocking down a secret door in the back wall. Five men jumped up, though only three of them survived the barrage of gunfire, escaping through loose panels set in the walls.

“There he is!” shouted the lieutenant, taking aim for their target’s leg. The human he was chasing was light on his feet, even laughing as he ran way as if he enjoyed the chase.

The man sprang, scaling up a conveniently stacked set of boxes, climbing onto the roof. But he was not running into safety. The soldiers of the Sky Lord’s army had the area surrounded, blocking his escape route—as he soon saw. Diving down back into the road when the gunfire aimed to wound him, the man dodged. Panting in between two buildings, he hid in the shadows.

“You are surrounded,” called the captain. “Give yourself up, and we’ll spare your life.”

They could hear the man chuckle. His voice echoed against the wood of the houses

The captain shook his head, growing tired. He then called out, “We know you arranged the deaths of two prominent town officials, causing the deaths of several other prominent figures.”

“It was my pleasure!” The man called back with a taunting laugh.

“Ooh, I really hate him.” The captain hissed to his lieutenant. “When you shoot, make sure he can’t walk. I want him to suffer.”

In that silence, though, the man made a dive for another alley. Gunfire cracked the air, missing him by a few feet.

Raising his voice again through the megaphone, the captain said, “We have a few of your conspirators. We know the whereabouts of your camp.”

The man laughed again. “Liar! They don’t know anything.”

“They know your hideouts in Herra!” The captain shouted again.

“Big deal!” The man shouted back. “They change all the time.”

Growling, the captain raised the megaphone again. “I also know you are partly responsible for the burning of the city up north.”

This time the man was silent. That got him.

“If you come quietly, we won’t burn you alive as punishment.” The captain waited for his response.

“Technically, they were already dead when they burned,” the man said, though his voice sounded morose.

With a snort, the captain nodded. He lifted his megaphone. “You don’t want us to do the same to you, do you?”

“Does it matter?” the man called back. “You’re all demons invading our land.”

“Your land?” The captain muttered. He pointed to the shadows where he had seen movement. He gestured to the long-range rifleman where to aim. The rifleman nodded back. “This isn’t your land. It never has been, barbarian.”

“Barbarian?” The man laughed again, sliding in the shadows to another spot.

The rifleman followed, waiting for a clear shot.

“Where do you demons get off calling anyone barbaric? This is our home. You’re the invaders. A plague. And you always will be until—”

The rifle cracked off one. They heard the man grunt, falling.

“What was that, barbarian?” The captain laughed, waving for his men to go in.

But when they found the site where the raider had been shot, they saw that the blood puddled then dripped with a scrape from dragging himself to another hiding spot. Unfortunate for their quarry, they found him, panting as he clasped his thigh, glaring up with a savage look of hatred. He had another oozing wound in his shoulder—he was the kind of man that would not give up.

“Take him,” the captain said. “The general wants to interrogate this savage himself.”

 

Gailert had been waiting. He had heard the gunfire then the silence. Their two captives were not very forthcoming, town dwellers that took instruction from a man called Kleston. This Kleston was a shop owner as well as a distributor of valuable items for anyone willing to pay the price. His reputation for having a quick tongue and an even quicker mind had intrigued the general, so much that he wanted to meet the mastermind of the raiders’ uprising.

The commotion as the captain had his men drag in the human leader was all that Gailert expected. The man fought the entire way, even through the door where both the general and the captive stared at one another face-to-face. The man spat blood when he saw him.

“The infamous General Gole. At last we meet,” Kleston said.

“He had this knife and this sword on him.” The captain placed both on the desk, nodding. “And you should see what he’s wearing around his neck. We can’t take it off.”

Gailert stood up as the men collected the sword and knife. He reached up to Kleston’s open shirtfront. Dangling around his neck was a gold chain with two bells, hanging like a noose. It was somewhat charred from a fire.

The general pulled his hand back. “You’re not choking.”

Kleston smiled. His eyes had the dangerous look of a killer. “Of course not. I’m not a demon. Do you want to wear it?”

The man jerked from the arms of the Sky Children holding him. The chain flopped on his neck as the bells jingled. With a wrench, twisting his arms up and around, Kleston pulled his hand from the chains, holding him with ease. Then with a pounce, he whipped off the chain from around his neck and threw it to catch the general.

But one of the corporals got in the way, catching the chain with his hand. Almost immediately the corporal was yanked to the floor. The golden noose tightened around his fingers as if to cut them off.  Kleston did not jump to retrieve it, though. He reached to his inner thigh instead and pulled out of a pocket a dagger. Lifting it up, the blade glinted bright against the electric lights. Plunging it down upon his prey, the human cried out with all his might.

The soldiers were all over him, tearing him off of the general.

The dagger stuck out of Gailert’s chest. Panting hard, staring at the shining blade, his eyes fixed on the insignia on the crosspiece. Gailert shuddered. It was the insignia of the Bekir Peninsula.

The room filled with shouting, the human laughing. Gailert watched Kleston as his eyes swam out of focus. Dropping to the floor, he wondered if this was what death was like.

“Get a medic!” shouted the captain. His voice had gone hollow, distant.

Another series of shouts filled the military office. As his gaze darkened, Gailert watched the man who had killed him. The man’s lips were white, panting hard, with sweat forming on his brow. The look of a secret hung behind his eyes, taunting Gailert even to the end.

Then there was silence.

 

Chapter Fifteen: Wounded

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Don’t sit up, general. Your wound might open again.”

Gailert blinked at the light shining from the window. His chest throbbed, though his blankets were soft. “I thought I was dead.”

The doctor smirked, checking the general’s pulse and looking at his watch. “You would have been if he had stabbed you an inch lower. He missed your heart and your lungs.”

“Do they still have the knife?” Gailert murmured.

Laughing with disbelief, the doctor said, “Why would you want that thing? It nearly killed you.”

“I need to see the knife,” Gailert said, feeling his breathing now as his chest hurt.

Shrugging, the doctor walked across the room. The general couldn’t see where he had gone. Soon the man returned with the dagger. Holding it out, the doctor said, “Be careful. It’s still sharp.”

Gailert peered at it. A dagger. Fine work. In fact, he had only seen work this fine once, and it was an unfinished sword that hung in his study at Roan with a similar shaped hilt. That man Kleston knew the Bekir smithy.

The general looked up. “Doctor, what happened to the human that stabbed me?”

“He died,” the doctor said.

“They weren’t supposed to kill him!” the general shouted, trying to sit up.

“Calm down!” Pushing him down to the bed again, the doctor said, “They didn’t kill him. He took poison before the event. Apparently he knew you were after him, so he decided on a suicide run to kill you. Foolhardy if you ask me.”

Gailert stared at the ceiling. A suicide run to kill him? Was the hate of those savages that much that they would plan to die just to kill him? It was beyond his comprehension. There had be a better explanation. Then he had a thought.

“Did any of my men get any information from his head before he died?”

The doctor looked up and shrugged. “If they did, they didn’t tell me.”

“I need to see them.” Gailert tried to rise again.

The doctor shoved