Featherdemon
3rd Level Red Feather
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Hello,
This is the first part of another tale I have done abouy F's love...Gedan.
Please comment anda let me know if you like
F,
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Death and a need for bloody revenge brought me to the Brickten Mire but all I have found is death – my death.
My burning need for revenge, rooted deep and hot into my core, will never be fulfilled now and it is a bitter stain on my last moments. Maybe the cold depths of this mire, drawing me inevitably to its black depths, will cool my heart along with my bones. I have failed. As the icy, thick mud sucks me to my doom, I am left only to replay bitterly the chase that bought me here.
It had been a bad night for such a chase, truth being told, for the weather was horrid even from the outset. One might think there was something auspicious about it in fact, a celestial warning of things to come. It was a cold and blustery night, the sky above cloudless and filled with faintly twinkling stars. A full moon shone high in the black sky at the start of my chase, flooding the land with a clean crisp light, luring me in with the likeness of a Will O the Wisp. A bracing chill is in the air, one that pales compared to the icy grip of the mud – a chill that whispered to all but the neediest of folk to stay in doors and huddle in the warmth; don't come out, it seemed to say, stay and let the world go by till dawn.
I didn't have the luxury of staying indoors; my desire for revenge would not allow it. And now it has doomed me.
The town of Brickten lies some miles at my back. It is a small, decent and God fearing community, wrapped in sleep and moonlight now, blissfully ignorant to the peril that claims me. They will never know what I did or what I tried to do. They will go on as if nothing has changed. Around me, spread like a Blight on the land, festers the shadow-drenched and Godless Brickten Mire. It is a place all God fearing men avoid for fear of losing their lives and forfeiting of their souls; a place I would happily have ignored had not my duty not demanded otherwise.
Brickten is my home and my heart, but now it had been forever stained with murder - three murders in fact, all in the space of two days. A young police officer, Constable Joseph Caddle, stumbled across a burglary at Henson's Jewellery store, and in kind response to his investigation was viciously clubbed to death. The very next day, two other policemen – Constables Sherridan Lyle and Malcolm Innisborn, were found dead in a back street, both savagely beaten around the head. All three had been good young men under my care; each at the beginnings of their professional lives. Each had been cruelly and viciously killed in the pursuit of their duty by a man whose deeds painted him more a monster than anything else.
Worzen Eccles – a murderer, thug, rapist, thief and Godless savage. A man recently returned to England, I have learned, after a decadent time in some exotic country, pursuing unspeakable pleasures. A man who has recently finished serving time in Gaol for bloodier deeds he committed some years ago. A man without conscience and for whom villainy knew no bounds.
He is my quarry and the target of my revenge. He is the cause of my death. I am Sergeant Daniel Rott of the Brickten Constabulary. Today is the 15th March 1901, and it is the day I die.
And having spotted this fiend Worzen lurking on the edges of Brickten, I naturally gave chase, eager to put an end to his crimes and avenge the dead officers. Thus, did my wild, desperate and ultimately doomed chase begin.
Even with the deep pools of quicksand and heather-ridden bogs not withstanding, Brickten Mire is a terrible place. It's a vast, sprawling sunken low land filled with briars, heather, rootless grass, reeds and any number of foul sounding creatures. There are ponies that lurk in its depths but how they remain free of its treacherous terrain, I do not know. Birds and rodents nest in its rotten trees and here and there are curious ruins, but nothing any man of rational sense would be interested in. It is said that the Mire is so cursed that to even enter it is to become Godless; that by merely walking its murky shadows you forgo your soul and damn yourself forever in the eyes of the Lord.
Whether that is true or not is not for me to say, but it is of absolutely no surprise to me that Worzen Eccles should seek refuge in its fetid depths. I prayed that the good Lord, in His infinite mercy, would understand why I must enter such a dread place. Even if I am damned by it, I thought, I must pursue this man to the very end of all things.
How empty and bitter that seems now.
For the first part of the chase, it hadn't been so difficult for me to follow Eccles, for he left sizeable foot prints in the mud. This allowed me to track him and gain assurance that the ground I walked upon was solid enough to hold me. The full moon permitted a good look of the land ahead of me and I was able to leap from mound to mound, tracking around the treacherous pools. Ahead of me, visible only every now and then, I caught sight of Eccles' weaving silhouette and the taunting sound of his laughter.
I don't know how long I'd been tracking him before I lost his trail. Time passes without notice in the Mire place. All I can say for sure is that that it had grown considerably darker at that point, as if the vileness of the place had diminished the light of the moon. All of a sudden his foot prints stopped and scanning about the horizon, I could no longer see his silhouette. For a while I hurried on with more speed than caution, thinking that I would come across some sign of his passing, but nothing was revealed to me. Frustrated and a little unnerved I came to a halt, panting and shivering the in the cool night.
Around me I could hear living things coming to life with the fall of the sun; I heard insects clicking, birds chattering and muddy water sloshing in murky pools. The sounds were all alien to me and at once I realised just how terrible this place was. What could live here? Who would want to live here? It was anathema to my senses why even a man such as Eccles would want to come here.
I stood in that very same spot for some time, waiting for some clue to present itself or for some sound to betray my quarry's presence. But nothing came to me. The longer I stood there, the colder I got and soon I felt a cold fear in my stomach. I felt its fingers scrape up my spine. I was stuck in an evil place with no place to seek cover and no way to return home, not without the morning light any how.
I should have turned around at the point and just gone home. But I didn't.
It was while I stood scanning the horizon that my doom came upon me. I was looking behind me, back the way I'd come, when I saw something break the line of the horizon some two hundred yards away. I froze, staring, when it reappeared a good deal closer. I saw a figure moving with breath taking speed and agility. I watched with growing fear as this figure leapt and bound along the Mire's terrain; at times it almost seemed like it was flying, so fast was its movements.
"Eccles!" I shouted, believing he had some how got behind me and was trying to come at me. "I see you, you dog! Show yourself; let us see how easily you kill a man who expects you to be there!"
I watched, straining my eyes, and saw that the figure stopped little more than one hundred yards away. I grinned. It was Eccles! My bold speech had some affect on him and given him pause. Feeling relieved at finally having found some bearing and eager for the confrontation that was about to happen, I drew my baton from my belt and strode a few paces closer.
"Come on, Eccles!" I yelled. "The ground between us is solid enough! Let us be done with it!"
The figure remained crouched and I had a good mind to go over to him and drag him back to Brickten myself. I took another few steps forward, imagining how good it would feel to have that bastard at my mercy. I was all set to break into a run when something happened that stopped me in my tracks: I saw emerald eyes flash with a fiery light.
I froze – it wasn't Eccles!
I barely had time to ponder who else it could have been, for at that very moment the real Eccles got the better of me. He came suddenly from the dark behind me, screaming like a mad man. I turned too slow to evade him, barely quickly enough to see him before he slammed into me. The baton flew from my hand as his charge took me off of my feet and I fell into a helpless roll through some heather and briar. I cried out, banging myself on numerous occasions as I fell through the fauna into one of the Mire's deadly bog holes.
"Leave me be!" Eccles shrieked.
For a moment I was senseless. All I could do was lie still while my vision and balance righted itself. I smelt the muddy water about me and felt the cold sucking mud at my hands and feet. I panicked with a cry and like a fool I tried to stand. The surface of the mud broke and I felt my legs slide under. I clutched at the heather and grass but it came away in my hands.
"Eccles! Help me!"
"Oh no," he cackled, "let the mud have you and I will keep my neck out of the gallows! This is on your head, for following me; you should have let me be!"
"Eccles!"
That man, undeniably cruel and twisted, stood above me and snickered. I felt a sudden helpless outrage, feeling that he was just going to watch as the cold mud claimed me. But something stirred off to the left that panicked him and a moment later he was gone. I called after him, yelling for him to come back and help, but he was long gone.
I stopped shouting and stopped moving, hoping it would be enough to stop me sinking any further into the gurgling mud. It didn't work and I found myself sinking to my waist. "For God's sake, help!" I cried, clawing for solid ground but not finding any. "Help me!"
Only the whisper of the wind and the gurgling of mud greeted me. I felt suddenly very afraid, certain that this terrible place would be the death of me. The cold fingers of my fear crept from the base of my spine to the top of my head. My thoughts raced all the way back to Brickten, to my friends. I thought of my colleagues and how they would view my absence when I didn't arrive in the morning. The thoughts were too much and I felt a sob of fear breach my lips.
I was going to die!!
* * * *
So that is what has brought me to my death. That is how I came to be here, tricked and delivered to my doom. I cannot escape from this mud – any movement only serves to sink me faster and I have not the strength to fight against it forever. The cold mud is all ready numbing my legs and despite my rising panic, I can do nothing to get free.
It was all for nothing. The lives Worzen Eccles has taken will not be avenged and justice would not be done on him. My ghost will join those of the murdered officers, screaming mutely for a reckoning that will never come. My desperation turned to anger which quickly turned to bitterness. It wasn't fair. I deserved better than this. Those men deserved better than this!
"Eccles!" I screamed at full volume.
Suddenly I heard the rustle of grass and the parting of heather coming from above me. I stared up and there, at the edge of the hollow stood a figure silhouetted by the moonlight. It was the same figure I'd seen earlier, the one I had mistaken to be Eccles. As I stared, I saw those green eyes flash once more; it was looking off after where Eccles had disappeared.
"Help me!" I called up.
I saw the figure turn quickly, those lantern eyes widening when they saw me. For a moment I caught sight of red hair swishing with the turn of its head and the eyes, like glass baubles filled with emerald flame, stared right through me. I had the strangest fancy that it was sifting through my thoughts.
"Don't be afraid," it said in a voice that was most certainly a woman's; kind and motherly in its approach.
"Help me!"
"I will," she said, "but I trust this is not what you were looking for, mm?"
The figure made her way down the side of the slope, stepping with silent feet and impeccable precision. She paused at the very edge of the bog, where a single step closer would have placed her in the same peril as me. She bent at the waist and leant over to me; I caught smell of a most wonderful scent as she did so, one that took the edge off of my fear.
"Reach up and take my hand," she said and extended an arm to me.
"Don't be ridiculous," I said, "I'll pull you in!"
The expression on her face was hidden from me by shadow but I swear she was smiling as she spoke. "Trust me," she said. "Take my hand and you'll be safe and sound in a heart beat."
I hesitated, fearing going under any further.
"Come on," she urged, her voice softer now. "You can do it, just reach."
"I'll go under!"
"I won't let you. Now reach."
Desperate not to die but not really believing this would accomplish anything, I reached up slowly and grabbed her hand. Part of me knew that no one was strong enough to pull me clear one handed, not without leverage, yet this was better than nothing. She closed her fingers about my hand with a strength I found astonishing.
"Now hold on."
Without so much as a grunt of effort or even the faintest hint of a struggle, she straightened up and lifted her arm. I was pulled free from the clutching mud, as if it no longer cared to have a hold on me. As ridiculous as it sounds, she held me a loft the bog hole, leaving me hanging from her arm as if I were nothing. I gaped at her strength and at the light in her eyes.
"Impossible…"
"Impressive, perhaps, but not impossible," she said.
"But how…"
Chuckling, she turned and then lowered me carefully onto the solid ground next to her. Keeping hold of my hand with her own, she skipped swiftly back up the slope, taking me with her until we were back on the path. She eased me against the bark of a tree and out of shock and exhaustion, I sagged to my knees.
"See?" she said and there was a twinkle in those eyes. "You're all safe and sound – just like I promised."
I tried to speak, but in the wake of her deeds, I was utterly speechless and for a while I just sat there hugging my knees.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
I looked up disbelievingly at the woman who'd saved me. She stood in front of me, leaning slightly at the waist. I could see her in more detail now. She was easily the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen and shockingly the least human. I fell back onto my arse in shock.
"Devil," I gasped.
"Not quite," she said and giggled.
Her giggle sent shivery fingers up my spine. She work a long black coat made of leather that covered her from shoulder to above the knee and soft looking boots that rose just above the ankle. Everything else I could see – legs, hands, face, all were covered in a soft fine looking fur. Her eyes were alight with an emerald glow and it was then I saw the feline touch of her features and the ears that poked between the ropes of red hair. I even saw a tail swish from behind her.
"I said, are you all right?" she said again and grinned.
I nodded slowly, gaping at her while my mind tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
"You don't need to be afraid of me," she said.
A small part of me told me she must be a devil to look like that, but her smile and her laugh and something…else told me there nothing devilish about her. In fact her presence was more reassuring than disturbing, like I knew I could trust her even though I'd never met her before.
"It's all a bit of a shock, isn't it?" she said, "me saving you and the whole one handed thing?"
Again I nodded, staring.
"Don't worry," she said and straightened up. "It'll pass in a moment and then we can talk."
I looked away from her in the direction of Eccles, wondering if I could still catch him.
"Don't you worry about Mr Eccles," she said, noting my gaze, "Just you focus on looking after yourself for now."
I looked back down at the floor, sitting with my back against a tree and hugging my knees. The chill of the mire still clung to me, like cold hands about my limbs; I shivered helplessly as I wiped the mud off of my legs.
"A fire is needed," she said, "to keep the chill from your bones."
"I can barely stand."
"Then I'll do it."
Still stunned, I watched in a dazed state while she quickly gathered what she needed. I don't know how she managed to light it what with everything being so wet, but in moments she had a fire going and I was squatting by it, getting warm.
"Thank you," I said.
She squatted down opposite me, enjoying the warmth of the fire. I saw now her fur was a soft brown and there was an exquisite refinement to her features. "You're welcome," she said and smiled at me,
"You have saved me twice this night," I said, "once from the Mire and once from the cold."
She nodded. "And unless I am very much mistaken, I shall save you at least once more this evening."
"Save me how?" I asked.
"By getting you home," she said and grinned, "safe and sound, before anyone misses you and before you get yourself into any more trouble."
I grinned at the happy smile on her face. "Surely you have better things to do that do that," I said.
"Oh yes," she said and giggled. "Countless things and all of which are infinitely more fun. But right now, there's nothing more important to me than seeing you home safe and sound." She said those words with such seriousness that I couldn't help but feel assured.
"But you don't know me," I said.
"True."
"For all you know I could be a bad man."
My rescuer laughed merrily at my words. "Sure you could," she said and shook her head, genuinely amused by what I had said. "You could be a true monster and I could have made a terrible mistake in saving you."
Her laughter made me giggle. "Well I could!" I said, foolishly protesting at the suggestion that I couldn't be bad. "I could be a terrible man!"
Her laughter grew louder. "I have better judgement than that," she said. "You would have to be a true monster for me not to help you - if such a thing even exists." She giggled again, tickled by my protests. "The mere thought of you being a bad man…that's funny."
I smiled awkwardly, feeling like I'd just been praised and at the same time dismissed as a harmless thing. "Then I guess more thanks will be in order," I said.
She nodded. "Oh yes, I'm sure they will be," she said and waved away my comment "but let's not get ahead of ourselves. There are more deeds to be done and words to be said before we have to worry about thanks and goodbyes."
I frowned, amused and intrigued by her odd tone and behaviour. "You're…not like anyone I've ever met," I said.
"I should hope so," she said.
"You really don't think I could be a bad man?" I said.
"No."
"Why?" I asked.
She lifted her eyes to me and they gleamed like polished glass in the fire light. "Why?" she repeated, a little confused. "Do you want to be a bad man?"
"No, but—"
"But you want me to think of you as one?"
"No."
"At the very least then, you want me to think you are capable of being a bad man?"
"No, that's a foolish idea," I said.
She smiled "Then take it as it was meant," she said.
"And how is that?"
"A compliment," she said.
I felt suddenly unsure of why I'd questioned her on it in the first place. I still felt unsure if she were mocking of praising me. "Thanks…I think."
"Besides," she said in a softer voice, "even if you were a bad man, I would still have helped you."
"Why?"
"Because you needed it."
I looked my beautiful companion in the eyes, both intrigued by her sentiment and compelled by the way she said it. There was subtle hint of self reflection as she spoke it, as if she were measuring herself against it. As she looked back at me there was a gentle, unshakable smile on her face. I think whatever question she asked herself had been answered.
"Is there anyone you wouldn't help?" I asked.
"Oh I'm sure there must be," she said and looked back at the fire. "In the whole of creation, with all those people and living things scattered about, there must be one some where that I wouldn't want to help." Her words drifted as she looked to the fire, as if she were thinking about it. "There must be…"
"You've never met one before?"
She shook her head once. "Not in all my years," she said.
"Then you are still young and have much to learn about the darkness in this world," I said with a disapproving shake of my head. "There are many in this world who I would not help if they had been in my predicament."
"Is that so?" she said, suddenly interested.
"Yes," I said, "there are many who do not deserve help from me or from anyone else for that matter."
She looked me in the eyes and I had the impression I was being judged. "Then perhaps it is you who have much to learn," she said softly.
"You're saying you would save an evil man?"
She tittered. "So young," she said in a tone that was kind but meant as a reproach. "Do you know how rare it is to find someone that is truly evil? It is a very rare thing indeed and it takes an awful lot of willpower to be truly evil."
My mood bristled at her tone. "You think my view foolish?" I asked.
"Not at all," she said.
"Naive?"
"Just symptomatic of your youth," she said.
I frowned and resisted a laugh. "You think I'm young? Surely I am older than you," I said. "I am in my forties."
She giggled, still looking into the fire. "You'd be surprised by the number of years that lie behind me," she said. "I look very good for my age."
I had the sudden temptation to ask her about her age but resisted it. I let the matter drop and moved onto something a little easier.
"Where are my manners?" I said and offered my hand. "I'm Sergeant Daniel Rott."
"Hello, Sergeant Daniel Rott," she said and shook my hand. "I'm Gedan."
* * * *
This is the first part of another tale I have done abouy F's love...Gedan.
Please comment anda let me know if you like
F,
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Death and a need for bloody revenge brought me to the Brickten Mire but all I have found is death – my death.
My burning need for revenge, rooted deep and hot into my core, will never be fulfilled now and it is a bitter stain on my last moments. Maybe the cold depths of this mire, drawing me inevitably to its black depths, will cool my heart along with my bones. I have failed. As the icy, thick mud sucks me to my doom, I am left only to replay bitterly the chase that bought me here.
It had been a bad night for such a chase, truth being told, for the weather was horrid even from the outset. One might think there was something auspicious about it in fact, a celestial warning of things to come. It was a cold and blustery night, the sky above cloudless and filled with faintly twinkling stars. A full moon shone high in the black sky at the start of my chase, flooding the land with a clean crisp light, luring me in with the likeness of a Will O the Wisp. A bracing chill is in the air, one that pales compared to the icy grip of the mud – a chill that whispered to all but the neediest of folk to stay in doors and huddle in the warmth; don't come out, it seemed to say, stay and let the world go by till dawn.
I didn't have the luxury of staying indoors; my desire for revenge would not allow it. And now it has doomed me.
The town of Brickten lies some miles at my back. It is a small, decent and God fearing community, wrapped in sleep and moonlight now, blissfully ignorant to the peril that claims me. They will never know what I did or what I tried to do. They will go on as if nothing has changed. Around me, spread like a Blight on the land, festers the shadow-drenched and Godless Brickten Mire. It is a place all God fearing men avoid for fear of losing their lives and forfeiting of their souls; a place I would happily have ignored had not my duty not demanded otherwise.
Brickten is my home and my heart, but now it had been forever stained with murder - three murders in fact, all in the space of two days. A young police officer, Constable Joseph Caddle, stumbled across a burglary at Henson's Jewellery store, and in kind response to his investigation was viciously clubbed to death. The very next day, two other policemen – Constables Sherridan Lyle and Malcolm Innisborn, were found dead in a back street, both savagely beaten around the head. All three had been good young men under my care; each at the beginnings of their professional lives. Each had been cruelly and viciously killed in the pursuit of their duty by a man whose deeds painted him more a monster than anything else.
Worzen Eccles – a murderer, thug, rapist, thief and Godless savage. A man recently returned to England, I have learned, after a decadent time in some exotic country, pursuing unspeakable pleasures. A man who has recently finished serving time in Gaol for bloodier deeds he committed some years ago. A man without conscience and for whom villainy knew no bounds.
He is my quarry and the target of my revenge. He is the cause of my death. I am Sergeant Daniel Rott of the Brickten Constabulary. Today is the 15th March 1901, and it is the day I die.
And having spotted this fiend Worzen lurking on the edges of Brickten, I naturally gave chase, eager to put an end to his crimes and avenge the dead officers. Thus, did my wild, desperate and ultimately doomed chase begin.
Even with the deep pools of quicksand and heather-ridden bogs not withstanding, Brickten Mire is a terrible place. It's a vast, sprawling sunken low land filled with briars, heather, rootless grass, reeds and any number of foul sounding creatures. There are ponies that lurk in its depths but how they remain free of its treacherous terrain, I do not know. Birds and rodents nest in its rotten trees and here and there are curious ruins, but nothing any man of rational sense would be interested in. It is said that the Mire is so cursed that to even enter it is to become Godless; that by merely walking its murky shadows you forgo your soul and damn yourself forever in the eyes of the Lord.
Whether that is true or not is not for me to say, but it is of absolutely no surprise to me that Worzen Eccles should seek refuge in its fetid depths. I prayed that the good Lord, in His infinite mercy, would understand why I must enter such a dread place. Even if I am damned by it, I thought, I must pursue this man to the very end of all things.
How empty and bitter that seems now.
For the first part of the chase, it hadn't been so difficult for me to follow Eccles, for he left sizeable foot prints in the mud. This allowed me to track him and gain assurance that the ground I walked upon was solid enough to hold me. The full moon permitted a good look of the land ahead of me and I was able to leap from mound to mound, tracking around the treacherous pools. Ahead of me, visible only every now and then, I caught sight of Eccles' weaving silhouette and the taunting sound of his laughter.
I don't know how long I'd been tracking him before I lost his trail. Time passes without notice in the Mire place. All I can say for sure is that that it had grown considerably darker at that point, as if the vileness of the place had diminished the light of the moon. All of a sudden his foot prints stopped and scanning about the horizon, I could no longer see his silhouette. For a while I hurried on with more speed than caution, thinking that I would come across some sign of his passing, but nothing was revealed to me. Frustrated and a little unnerved I came to a halt, panting and shivering the in the cool night.
Around me I could hear living things coming to life with the fall of the sun; I heard insects clicking, birds chattering and muddy water sloshing in murky pools. The sounds were all alien to me and at once I realised just how terrible this place was. What could live here? Who would want to live here? It was anathema to my senses why even a man such as Eccles would want to come here.
I stood in that very same spot for some time, waiting for some clue to present itself or for some sound to betray my quarry's presence. But nothing came to me. The longer I stood there, the colder I got and soon I felt a cold fear in my stomach. I felt its fingers scrape up my spine. I was stuck in an evil place with no place to seek cover and no way to return home, not without the morning light any how.
I should have turned around at the point and just gone home. But I didn't.
It was while I stood scanning the horizon that my doom came upon me. I was looking behind me, back the way I'd come, when I saw something break the line of the horizon some two hundred yards away. I froze, staring, when it reappeared a good deal closer. I saw a figure moving with breath taking speed and agility. I watched with growing fear as this figure leapt and bound along the Mire's terrain; at times it almost seemed like it was flying, so fast was its movements.
"Eccles!" I shouted, believing he had some how got behind me and was trying to come at me. "I see you, you dog! Show yourself; let us see how easily you kill a man who expects you to be there!"
I watched, straining my eyes, and saw that the figure stopped little more than one hundred yards away. I grinned. It was Eccles! My bold speech had some affect on him and given him pause. Feeling relieved at finally having found some bearing and eager for the confrontation that was about to happen, I drew my baton from my belt and strode a few paces closer.
"Come on, Eccles!" I yelled. "The ground between us is solid enough! Let us be done with it!"
The figure remained crouched and I had a good mind to go over to him and drag him back to Brickten myself. I took another few steps forward, imagining how good it would feel to have that bastard at my mercy. I was all set to break into a run when something happened that stopped me in my tracks: I saw emerald eyes flash with a fiery light.
I froze – it wasn't Eccles!
I barely had time to ponder who else it could have been, for at that very moment the real Eccles got the better of me. He came suddenly from the dark behind me, screaming like a mad man. I turned too slow to evade him, barely quickly enough to see him before he slammed into me. The baton flew from my hand as his charge took me off of my feet and I fell into a helpless roll through some heather and briar. I cried out, banging myself on numerous occasions as I fell through the fauna into one of the Mire's deadly bog holes.
"Leave me be!" Eccles shrieked.
For a moment I was senseless. All I could do was lie still while my vision and balance righted itself. I smelt the muddy water about me and felt the cold sucking mud at my hands and feet. I panicked with a cry and like a fool I tried to stand. The surface of the mud broke and I felt my legs slide under. I clutched at the heather and grass but it came away in my hands.
"Eccles! Help me!"
"Oh no," he cackled, "let the mud have you and I will keep my neck out of the gallows! This is on your head, for following me; you should have let me be!"
"Eccles!"
That man, undeniably cruel and twisted, stood above me and snickered. I felt a sudden helpless outrage, feeling that he was just going to watch as the cold mud claimed me. But something stirred off to the left that panicked him and a moment later he was gone. I called after him, yelling for him to come back and help, but he was long gone.
I stopped shouting and stopped moving, hoping it would be enough to stop me sinking any further into the gurgling mud. It didn't work and I found myself sinking to my waist. "For God's sake, help!" I cried, clawing for solid ground but not finding any. "Help me!"
Only the whisper of the wind and the gurgling of mud greeted me. I felt suddenly very afraid, certain that this terrible place would be the death of me. The cold fingers of my fear crept from the base of my spine to the top of my head. My thoughts raced all the way back to Brickten, to my friends. I thought of my colleagues and how they would view my absence when I didn't arrive in the morning. The thoughts were too much and I felt a sob of fear breach my lips.
I was going to die!!
* * * *
So that is what has brought me to my death. That is how I came to be here, tricked and delivered to my doom. I cannot escape from this mud – any movement only serves to sink me faster and I have not the strength to fight against it forever. The cold mud is all ready numbing my legs and despite my rising panic, I can do nothing to get free.
It was all for nothing. The lives Worzen Eccles has taken will not be avenged and justice would not be done on him. My ghost will join those of the murdered officers, screaming mutely for a reckoning that will never come. My desperation turned to anger which quickly turned to bitterness. It wasn't fair. I deserved better than this. Those men deserved better than this!
"Eccles!" I screamed at full volume.
Suddenly I heard the rustle of grass and the parting of heather coming from above me. I stared up and there, at the edge of the hollow stood a figure silhouetted by the moonlight. It was the same figure I'd seen earlier, the one I had mistaken to be Eccles. As I stared, I saw those green eyes flash once more; it was looking off after where Eccles had disappeared.
"Help me!" I called up.
I saw the figure turn quickly, those lantern eyes widening when they saw me. For a moment I caught sight of red hair swishing with the turn of its head and the eyes, like glass baubles filled with emerald flame, stared right through me. I had the strangest fancy that it was sifting through my thoughts.
"Don't be afraid," it said in a voice that was most certainly a woman's; kind and motherly in its approach.
"Help me!"
"I will," she said, "but I trust this is not what you were looking for, mm?"
The figure made her way down the side of the slope, stepping with silent feet and impeccable precision. She paused at the very edge of the bog, where a single step closer would have placed her in the same peril as me. She bent at the waist and leant over to me; I caught smell of a most wonderful scent as she did so, one that took the edge off of my fear.
"Reach up and take my hand," she said and extended an arm to me.
"Don't be ridiculous," I said, "I'll pull you in!"
The expression on her face was hidden from me by shadow but I swear she was smiling as she spoke. "Trust me," she said. "Take my hand and you'll be safe and sound in a heart beat."
I hesitated, fearing going under any further.
"Come on," she urged, her voice softer now. "You can do it, just reach."
"I'll go under!"
"I won't let you. Now reach."
Desperate not to die but not really believing this would accomplish anything, I reached up slowly and grabbed her hand. Part of me knew that no one was strong enough to pull me clear one handed, not without leverage, yet this was better than nothing. She closed her fingers about my hand with a strength I found astonishing.
"Now hold on."
Without so much as a grunt of effort or even the faintest hint of a struggle, she straightened up and lifted her arm. I was pulled free from the clutching mud, as if it no longer cared to have a hold on me. As ridiculous as it sounds, she held me a loft the bog hole, leaving me hanging from her arm as if I were nothing. I gaped at her strength and at the light in her eyes.
"Impossible…"
"Impressive, perhaps, but not impossible," she said.
"But how…"
Chuckling, she turned and then lowered me carefully onto the solid ground next to her. Keeping hold of my hand with her own, she skipped swiftly back up the slope, taking me with her until we were back on the path. She eased me against the bark of a tree and out of shock and exhaustion, I sagged to my knees.
"See?" she said and there was a twinkle in those eyes. "You're all safe and sound – just like I promised."
I tried to speak, but in the wake of her deeds, I was utterly speechless and for a while I just sat there hugging my knees.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
I looked up disbelievingly at the woman who'd saved me. She stood in front of me, leaning slightly at the waist. I could see her in more detail now. She was easily the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen and shockingly the least human. I fell back onto my arse in shock.
"Devil," I gasped.
"Not quite," she said and giggled.
Her giggle sent shivery fingers up my spine. She work a long black coat made of leather that covered her from shoulder to above the knee and soft looking boots that rose just above the ankle. Everything else I could see – legs, hands, face, all were covered in a soft fine looking fur. Her eyes were alight with an emerald glow and it was then I saw the feline touch of her features and the ears that poked between the ropes of red hair. I even saw a tail swish from behind her.
"I said, are you all right?" she said again and grinned.
I nodded slowly, gaping at her while my mind tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
"You don't need to be afraid of me," she said.
A small part of me told me she must be a devil to look like that, but her smile and her laugh and something…else told me there nothing devilish about her. In fact her presence was more reassuring than disturbing, like I knew I could trust her even though I'd never met her before.
"It's all a bit of a shock, isn't it?" she said, "me saving you and the whole one handed thing?"
Again I nodded, staring.
"Don't worry," she said and straightened up. "It'll pass in a moment and then we can talk."
I looked away from her in the direction of Eccles, wondering if I could still catch him.
"Don't you worry about Mr Eccles," she said, noting my gaze, "Just you focus on looking after yourself for now."
I looked back down at the floor, sitting with my back against a tree and hugging my knees. The chill of the mire still clung to me, like cold hands about my limbs; I shivered helplessly as I wiped the mud off of my legs.
"A fire is needed," she said, "to keep the chill from your bones."
"I can barely stand."
"Then I'll do it."
Still stunned, I watched in a dazed state while she quickly gathered what she needed. I don't know how she managed to light it what with everything being so wet, but in moments she had a fire going and I was squatting by it, getting warm.
"Thank you," I said.
She squatted down opposite me, enjoying the warmth of the fire. I saw now her fur was a soft brown and there was an exquisite refinement to her features. "You're welcome," she said and smiled at me,
"You have saved me twice this night," I said, "once from the Mire and once from the cold."
She nodded. "And unless I am very much mistaken, I shall save you at least once more this evening."
"Save me how?" I asked.
"By getting you home," she said and grinned, "safe and sound, before anyone misses you and before you get yourself into any more trouble."
I grinned at the happy smile on her face. "Surely you have better things to do that do that," I said.
"Oh yes," she said and giggled. "Countless things and all of which are infinitely more fun. But right now, there's nothing more important to me than seeing you home safe and sound." She said those words with such seriousness that I couldn't help but feel assured.
"But you don't know me," I said.
"True."
"For all you know I could be a bad man."
My rescuer laughed merrily at my words. "Sure you could," she said and shook her head, genuinely amused by what I had said. "You could be a true monster and I could have made a terrible mistake in saving you."
Her laughter made me giggle. "Well I could!" I said, foolishly protesting at the suggestion that I couldn't be bad. "I could be a terrible man!"
Her laughter grew louder. "I have better judgement than that," she said. "You would have to be a true monster for me not to help you - if such a thing even exists." She giggled again, tickled by my protests. "The mere thought of you being a bad man…that's funny."
I smiled awkwardly, feeling like I'd just been praised and at the same time dismissed as a harmless thing. "Then I guess more thanks will be in order," I said.
She nodded. "Oh yes, I'm sure they will be," she said and waved away my comment "but let's not get ahead of ourselves. There are more deeds to be done and words to be said before we have to worry about thanks and goodbyes."
I frowned, amused and intrigued by her odd tone and behaviour. "You're…not like anyone I've ever met," I said.
"I should hope so," she said.
"You really don't think I could be a bad man?" I said.
"No."
"Why?" I asked.
She lifted her eyes to me and they gleamed like polished glass in the fire light. "Why?" she repeated, a little confused. "Do you want to be a bad man?"
"No, but—"
"But you want me to think of you as one?"
"No."
"At the very least then, you want me to think you are capable of being a bad man?"
"No, that's a foolish idea," I said.
She smiled "Then take it as it was meant," she said.
"And how is that?"
"A compliment," she said.
I felt suddenly unsure of why I'd questioned her on it in the first place. I still felt unsure if she were mocking of praising me. "Thanks…I think."
"Besides," she said in a softer voice, "even if you were a bad man, I would still have helped you."
"Why?"
"Because you needed it."
I looked my beautiful companion in the eyes, both intrigued by her sentiment and compelled by the way she said it. There was subtle hint of self reflection as she spoke it, as if she were measuring herself against it. As she looked back at me there was a gentle, unshakable smile on her face. I think whatever question she asked herself had been answered.
"Is there anyone you wouldn't help?" I asked.
"Oh I'm sure there must be," she said and looked back at the fire. "In the whole of creation, with all those people and living things scattered about, there must be one some where that I wouldn't want to help." Her words drifted as she looked to the fire, as if she were thinking about it. "There must be…"
"You've never met one before?"
She shook her head once. "Not in all my years," she said.
"Then you are still young and have much to learn about the darkness in this world," I said with a disapproving shake of my head. "There are many in this world who I would not help if they had been in my predicament."
"Is that so?" she said, suddenly interested.
"Yes," I said, "there are many who do not deserve help from me or from anyone else for that matter."
She looked me in the eyes and I had the impression I was being judged. "Then perhaps it is you who have much to learn," she said softly.
"You're saying you would save an evil man?"
She tittered. "So young," she said in a tone that was kind but meant as a reproach. "Do you know how rare it is to find someone that is truly evil? It is a very rare thing indeed and it takes an awful lot of willpower to be truly evil."
My mood bristled at her tone. "You think my view foolish?" I asked.
"Not at all," she said.
"Naive?"
"Just symptomatic of your youth," she said.
I frowned and resisted a laugh. "You think I'm young? Surely I am older than you," I said. "I am in my forties."
She giggled, still looking into the fire. "You'd be surprised by the number of years that lie behind me," she said. "I look very good for my age."
I had the sudden temptation to ask her about her age but resisted it. I let the matter drop and moved onto something a little easier.
"Where are my manners?" I said and offered my hand. "I'm Sergeant Daniel Rott."
"Hello, Sergeant Daniel Rott," she said and shook my hand. "I'm Gedan."
* * * *
