The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir by Benjamin Agar (ebooks online reader TXT) 📖

his every pore, somehow even stronger than his incredible magical aura.

 

Anargrin clenched his teeth; he didn't like this.

 

Not at all.

 

The priest smashed his fist on the door with unnecessary violence.

 

Due to them being already awake, it didn't take long for Solen to open the door.

 

'What do you want?' Demanded the elf, he was trying to sound defiant, but there was fear in his tone. The miner's courage had impressed Anargrin, and he couldn't help be impressed even more.

 

'That is no way to address a holy man of Jaroai,' snarled the priest. 'Let me in.'

 

He shoved Solen aside and stormed inside.

 

Anargrin grimaced, then lunged into the open air.

 

 

Falin stepped into the hallway and was almost elbowed off her feet by the priest for her efforts.

 

Solen followed him, his eyes met Falin's and they went after the priest, into Kelth's room.

 

They found the priest trying to pull Kelth from under her bed.

 

'You are coming with me.'

 

Kelth just screamed.

 

'Leave her alone,' Falin yelled.

 

The priest rounded on them.

 

'Get your child under control.'

 

'No,' said Falin. 'Get out of my house. Leave my daughter alone.'

 

The priest laughed. 'You cannot order me around, elf. I am your better. And you will get your daughter under control. Now.'

 

'Why?' demanded Falin, she knew of the powers of the priests of Jaroai and fear thumped through her, but she fought it. 'Why do you want to take my daughter?'

 

'You do not need to know, elf. You need to accept that I am taking your daughter. Now help me.'

 

Solen slipped past and stood between the priest and Kelth's bed.

 

'You won't take my daughter,' he yelled. 'I don't care if you're the avatar himself. Now leave us alone.'

 

The priest seemed taken aback by Solen's defiance as he gaped for a few seconds before rage burst through his youthful features.

 

'Leave you alone? Leave you alone? You think that you, an elf, have the right to demand anything from me? I speak the word of Jaroai! I am his will made manifest. You will show me the respect I deserve. Get out of my way.'

 

'No, I will not let my daughter be forced into slavery.'

 

The priest straightened.

 

'What did you just say?'

 

'I-,' Solen stammered.

 

'What did you just say?' the priest roared, and fire erupted up his arms.

 

Solen stumbled back, and Falin threw herself at the priest's back. Somehow the priest knew she was coming and he backhanded Falin to the floor. Solen snarled and punched the priest in the face. The priest reeled then smashed his staff into the side of Solen's skull, sending him sprawling.

 

'I do not know how you know that, but it doesn't matter. I was hoping that I would not have to do this. But, if needs must.'

 

Then the fire blazed from the priest so strong it was almost white, the heat was horrific, but Falin didn't look away. Despite the pain, she climbed to her feet and threw herself at the priest again; she didn't care that he would kill her, what mattered was Kelth.

 

Falin screamed as the priest flourished his arm, concentrated fire roaring along its length.

 

The tip of a sword burst from the priest's chest in a spray of blood causing Falin to stop. The blade slid out of the priest's torso and with wide, bulging eyes, he fell to his knees, revealing Anargrin, his bloody sword held at his side.

 

Anargrin stared at Falin with tearful eyes as the priest fell flat on his face and blood began to pool on the floor.

 

'I'm sorry,' said Anargrin. 'I'm so, so sorry.'

 

 

Falin ran to Solen.

 

'Solen. Solen,' she cried, as she knelt over him, fighting back the tears. She tilted his head to see the ragged, bloody wound in his skull. his eyelids flickered, and he groaned.

 

'Oh Jaroai,' she gasped.

 

'Mummy?' said Kelth. 'Is daddy going to be alright?'

 

'I don't know,' said Falin.

 

'Put pressure on the wound,' said Anargrin.

 

Falin rounded on him. 'Why do you care? This is because of you.'

 

Anargrin's gaze fell to the floor. 'I know...I didn't want this, and now it's worse. Not all priests were like this one, Falin. I was hoping this would end peacefully. The church has much power, even in Hamar. You must leave. You must run.'

 

'What?'

 

'You have to leave before they get word. They will track you down. I can help you with that. We can help you with that.'

 

'So you want us to leave? Abandon our lives! Just like that?' said Falin. 'Are you insane?'

 

'I don't want you too. But if you want to live, you must. The Hunters can arrange a new identity for you, in a new place. We will provide you with funds and a new home-'

 

'And what about Kelth?' said Falin, though she already knew.

 

'You...you need to let us take her,' said Anargrin. 'If you don't, I assure you the church will come again, and they will force her into slavery for the rest of her long years.'

 

'It...It would have been just a matter of time before they found her, wouldn't it?' said Falin.

 

Anargrin nodded. 'Even if you refuse, you must come with me, back to our headquarters. There Solen will get the medical attention he needs. Please. I beg you.'

 

Falin sighed, looked at poor Solen then to Kelth.

 

Kelth's tear-filled eyes met hers, and she gave Falin a nod, then Falin enveloped her in a hug. Sobbing into Falin's chest.

 

Falin held Kelth with the ferocity only a mother could and turned back to Anargrin.

 

'You win, Hunter,' she said. 'I hope you're happy.'

 

Anargrin's gaze said he was anything but.

 

Epilogue

 

For hours Anargrin sat next to Emilia's bed and waited. His mind was a whirl with thoughts, his eyes wanting to shut every second.

 

'Anargrin?' said the voice which forced him awake although he hadn't known he was sleeping. In a millisecond he was on his feet, sword summoned to his hand, its edge a millimetre from Emilia's throat. Emilia didn't even flinch, having been long used to Anargrin's rampant paranoia.

 

'Sorry,' said Anargrin, and sheathed his sword as he sat back down.

 

'Need...water,' she said, her usually soft voice croaking from her throat.

 

Anargrin nodded, picked up the jug on the table beside him and poured her a glass.

 

Emilia drank it down, requested more and Anargrin refilled it.

 

'You seem upset,' Emilia said as she sipped.

 

Anargrin fought the sudden onset of tears.

 

'I can read you like a book, Anargrin,' said Emilia. 'I've known you for long enough that I can see through your training at hiding emotion.'

 

'I'm not really trying, in all honesty,' said Anargrin.

 

'How long have I been out?'

 

'About a week.'

 

Emilia sighed. She was almost fifty-eight but still seemed a pretty girl in her late teens, her features so soft she seemed almost exaggerated in her youthful femininity. The 'gift' of lycanthropy had extended her lifespan. Most would label it a curse, but she thought it a gift. Only Emilia could see the bright side in everything. Her long blonde hair fell to her slender shoulders in ringlets, and her large bright blue eyes gazed at him sidelong with sympathy.

 

'What's wrong, Anargrin?' she said.

 

He told her everything, right from after the troll ambushed them. It all came out in a flood.

 

Once he finished, there was a long silence.

 

'Wow,' she said.

 

'I ruined their family. I stole their daughter,' said Anargrin. 'Was it worth it?'

 

Emilia frowned. 'I know it's hard, Anargrin. But you killed the vampire, stopping it from ever killing any more innocent people and that little girl isn't going to be forced into slavery-'

 

'I know that Emilia, I do. It's just that it happened in the first place. We've done this for centuries, taking the children kidnapped by the church. 'We rescue the kidnapped' we claim. But after this...After this, it just doesn't seem right. Her mother and father loved her so much, Emilia. Her mother loved her so much that she was willing to sell her body so she can provide for her. Why? Why is it that she had to be ripped from her family? To be forced into becoming a neophyte in a coven or into indentured servitude for the church? It isn't fair; it isn't right.'

 

Emilia just stared at him.

 

'We don't rescue the kidnapped, Emilia. We kidnap the kidnapped.'

 

'And what about you?' said Emilia. 'If the Hunters hadn't taken you; you wouldn't have been there to take down that vampire. You wouldn't have saved me from those werewolves. That Kelth girl would've been forced into spending the rest of her centuries of a life toiling endlessly at one of their cathedrals.'

 

Anargrin sighed and hung his head into his hands. 'I was rescued. But that's me. To the other children, to Kelth, perhaps, not so much. All because we were gifted with the curse of magical potential. Are we the good guys, Emilia? Really?'

 

'Yep,' said Emilia without hesitation.

 

'Why?'

 

'Because you are fighting for a day, that it will no longer happen. So that people with magical potential can be free. Do you know what'd happen if the Hunters stopped? It'd mean the church would have even more power. Every country, not just Camaria and Iritain, would still be executing non-believers. Shit. I doubt the elves and dwarves would have ever been freed. You are the one always spouting the virtues of logic and reason. And that stuff's just logical.'

 

'Just because it's logical, doesn't mean it's ethical, Emilia.'

 

Emilia sighed and nodded. 'Yep. Yep. Maybe so. But it's a necessary evil, Anargrin. I don't like it either, but what else can we do? Somehow kill every priest, even the good ones? Then murder everyone else who disagrees with us? That's most of the people on the continent, you know. If not, somehow force the people to change their hearts and minds overnight?'

 

There was a long pause.

 

'So...so, the end justifies the means, then?' said Anargrin.

 

Emilia pursed her lips and shrugged. 'Maybe, hopefully. We'll see if it does, one day.'

 

Anargrin frowned. 'If we manage to live long enough.'

 

Emilia rolled her eyes and sighed, but in good humour. 'Yes, Anargrin. If we live long enough.'

 

Anargrin didn't say anything, she was right, but it still seemed like they were kidnapping the kidnapped; forcing children into a life they might not want.

 

'I'm sorry, Emilia,' he said.

 

'Sorry for what?'

 

'Sorry that I didn't detect the troll's ambush. I should've seen it coming.'

 

Emilia shrugged. 'And I should've smelled it out, but we were only midway through our investigation, and neither of us predicted the troll would go on the offence so quick. It was both our failing. I'm just glad neither of us was killed. No one is perfect, Anargrin. And least of all you.'

 

Anargrin laughed for the first time in days. 'You keep saying that and it might one day come true.'

 

'If you were perfect, I wouldn't be able to kick your arse.'

 

'What? Even in werewolf form, you don't stand a chance.'

 

'Alright,' said Emilia. 'Let's go the training cages now and see-'

 

She started to get up but stopped with a pained hiss.

 

'Perhaps...a little later, then,' said Anargrin.

 

'Perhaps so,' sighed Emilia.

 

They laughed, but it did nothing to abate the rolling in Anargrin's guts. He hoped that Solen and Falin were going to be happy in their new life.

 

But he doubted it.

 

'You know how you could make up for missing the troll?' said Emilia.

 

'I thought we were both taking responsibility for that?'

 

'Hey. You didn't get your noggin bashed into a wall, Anargrin. You're taking a bit more,