Chapter 15

I left Bella nursing a nasty hangover, and dived into the shower. I'd made love with her into the early hours, plundering her charms until I was no longer able to perform. I'd finally collapsed from the combination of exhaustion, and the pervasive effects of Haden's wine.

It was the start of a new day and I wondered what amazing adventures were in store. With the prospect of nothing of significance to achieve, I wandered through the deserted compound. People either were incapacitated or had chosen to lie in. The air was fresh after a downpour during the night, enhancing the tranquillity of the morning.

Ongoing projects littered the workshop, and an empty wine bottle graced the wooden bench where we performed most of the heavy construction work. I tinkered aimlessly for a few minutes before sensing a brooding presence behind me. I turned to observe Haden with a serious look upon his face.

"You're not incapacitated like everybody else?" I queried.

"No. I drank very little last night."

"I tried not to, but your wine caught me by surprise."

"I know about you and Gem," he stated emphatically.

"Gem? I'm not sure what you mean," I mumbled, my heart suddenly thumping hard within my chest.

"You took advantage of the fact that the drink had influenced her."

"No. I ... I..."

"Don't try to deny it. She was distraught and confessed everything to me."

"It's not like it sounds. Nothing really happened."

"I know exactly what happened. Why did you do it? I welcomed you into my home, made you feel a part of the community, and yet you turn around and insult me this way."

I sighed in despair, unable to deny how I'd abused his hospitality.

"We were both drunk," I excused, realising how hollow my words sounded. "I promise you that nothing like this will ever happen again."

"I know it won't happen again," he replied coolly.

"Okay," I replied in sheer relief that he hadn't decided to resort to violence.

"We're all grateful for what you've done for us. The village will certainly benefit greatly from your contributions."

I detected an undertone of malice and wondered where things were leading.

"There's another village about ten miles north of here," he informed me, the gist of his meaning finally dawning. He held a small canvas bag in his hand.

"You're expelling me?" I demanded.

"I'll tell people that you chose to move on, it's probably easier that way. There's enough food in the bag, so you won't go hungry on the journey. I've also given you a spare blanket; it's getting cold at night."

"Can I say goodbye to Bella and Darian?"

"It would be better if you just left, simpler."

"I see."

"Understand that I have no choice. I can't ignore what you did."

Haden accompanied me along a well-beaten path along the bank of the river. We walked in total silence, evidence of the rift that now existed between us. Cresting the summit of a large hill, he pointed out the route and estimated that I could reach the next village by nightfall the following day.

I turned to apologise once more, but he held up his hand to fend off my words.

"I don't want to hear your paltry excuses," he told me. "Go now, and don't come back, ever."

After gathering up my few possessions, I walked off down the track. I looked back once but Haden had already departed back to the village. For the second time, I was departing under a cloud, and knew that things would have to change if I was ever to settle down and live a normal life.

I camped in a sheltered dell, risking a small fire when even the blanket failed to prevent the chill penetrating through to my aching bones. I played a couple of tracks off the iPhone and skimmed through my photographs. I'd viewed the few that I had of Nella and Teel, as well as several from the village. Each bore a memory of a happier time that I was destined never to return to.

Mesmerised, I sat staring into the flickering embers of the fire, contemplating what awaited me at my destination. I opened my rations and ate my fill, leaving enough to sustain me through the following day, before falling into a restless slumber.

On resuming my journey, the path became excessively overgrown necessitating a detour from my route. I crested a gentle incline and looked down into the valley below where a number of scavenging birds gathered around a decomposing animal, feasting on its grisly remains. They scattered on my approach and I observed the dead Trog sprawled out on the ground. Its left leg was severed at the knee, and its chest looked like it had exploded from within. I recognised the signature destruction of a heat weapon almost immediately. Several paces further on, more of the animals had suffered a similar fate, their grotesque features displaying a rictus of pain and misery.

My stomach churned at the sight of the massacre, wondering what justified such carnage. The stench was almost overpowering, and I quickly departed before my breakfast decided to reappear.

After regaining the trail, it was late afternoon before the sight of cultivated fields confirmed the close proximity of my destination. Just as the first of the cabins sprang into view, a number of men armed with spears and clubs appeared from dense undergrowth, and challenged me.

"I'm looking for a place to stay," I advised, keeping my hands in plain sight to lessen any threat I represented.

"Where are you from?" one of them demanded with menace, a burly man with a nasty scar across his cheek.

"I've come from Wicken, and before that the citadel."

"Why did you leave?"

"I became restless and wanted a fresh challenge."

"You're in the right place for a challenge," he replied cynically.

"There were about half a dozen dead Trogs back there." I pointed back down the trail.

"The Guardians have been doing their job, for once. Not as though it really helps, there are always more to replace those that they kill."

"We've never had any problems with Trogs in Wicken."

"That may well be, but here in Fordem, they're like a plague. They're determined to steal our crops and ruin our way of life. If it's peace and quiet you want, best go back the way you came."

There was no way for me to return and they quickly deduced this from my expression.

"Follow us then," the man offered. "My name's Raban."

"Mark," I replied.

"We've got a few people with room to spare, so long as you don't mind sharing."

"No problem, I'm used to it. Are you sure the Trogs are such a threat?" I asked, unable to reconcile the differences in the experience between the two villages.

Raban pointed to his face. "One of them did this to me. I nearly died of the infection."

The village came into view and I recognised it immediately from my visit with Tamar. Compared with Wicken, the settlement was enormous. "How many people live here?"

"Just under six hundred," Raban replied, "although several have left recently, hoping to find a safer place to live."

The centre of the settlement was bustling with activity. To one side, the craggy remains of an ancient stone monument formed a stark contrast to the makeshift constructions of the village. Men ran around seemingly at random, carrying improvised weapons, and shouting in alarm, reminiscent of the scene before some great battle.

"Expecting an army to attack?" I opined.

"Something like that. The Trogs are well organised and arrive with single-minded purpose, and worrying regularity. It's barely within our powers to contain them."

"Things are really that bad?"

"The Guardians should hopefully arrive soon. Heaven help us if the Silver Demon appears before they get here."

"I thought the Silver Demon was a myth."

"There are those here that claim to have seen it. They say rocks and clubs simply bounce off it, and that not even the Guardians' weapons have any effect."

"Really?" I replied incredulously.

"Speak to my brother if you're interested, he'll tell you all you need to know."

Raban stopped before a small wooden hut, and rapped on the door. A harassed young woman answered.

"Hulva, I have a new guest for you," Raban told her.

The woman invited us in and showed me to a small cot set against one wall. The interior was a carbon copy of those at Wicken, and I idly speculated if they experienced any of the same problems.

Hulva lived with her partner who was currently patrolling the outer perimeter of the village. The siege mentality seemed endemic, and I wondered if leaving now would be the wisest course of action.

"I'll take you to Benni, my brother," Raban advised. "He's the village elder, and likes to vet new arrivals. We don't want any troublemakers."

"I'm no trouble," I quickly reassured him.

Surrounded by his retinue, Benni stood at a long table, over which crude maps of the surrounding countryside were spread. As soon as I saw him, I remembered him from my earlier meeting. Vague recognition sparkled in his eyes and he enquired if we'd ever met before. I recounted my visit in the flyer, and he nodded in acknowledgement.

"You come here during grave times, stranger," he muttered. "We're losing the battle against these parasites."

"So I heard. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Unless you can conjure up an army of Guardians, it appears we are entirely at the mercy of these beasts. We've already lost ten percent of our harvest. At this rate, people will be starving to death before winter is over."

"Raban mentioned the Silver Demon."

Benni threw up his hands in exasperation. "Things go from bad to worse. Just when we thought that we were getting to grips with the Trogs, this fiendish apparition appears and dashes all our hopes."

"What is it like?"

"Bigger than a man and stronger than a horse. It's silver from head to foot, and fears nothing."

"It's hurt people?"

"It doesn't need to. It smashes its way through the village with the Trogs snapping at its heels. It helps itself to our food, and then hands it to the Trogs to carry away. A Guardian once used his weapon on it; the beam bounced back and engulfed him. From what I hear, the man was lucky to hold onto his life."

As I mulled over the information, a messenger sprinted into our midst.

"The Guardians are here."

I turned to watch as the small craft descended out of the sky. Nervous, I slinked into the background as a lone figure emerged. The flyer lifted off and proceeded to circle the village, adding air support to the forces on the ground. The Guardian approached, limping slightly as he favoured one leg over the other. His face bore the ravages of some terrible injury. The last time I'd seen him, he was teetering on the brink of death from a supposed weapon misfire. The truth of his injury suddenly became clear.

"Welcome, Guardian," Benni greeted, allowing him into their inner circle. I withdrew further into the background, not wishing to be recognised.

"My colleague will patrol from the air, and attempt to warn of any danger," Troyal announced. "Show me where your men are positioned."

Benni pointed with his finger. "Any news of the Silver Demon, Guardian?"

"Not yet. If we spot it, we'll attempt to engage it from the air, using the flyer's more powerful heat weapon."

"Will that be sufficient to disable it?"

"The craft's heater can reduce buildings to rubble in a matter of seconds. We are of the opinion that the monstrosity will finally be destroyed, if it has the audacity to attempt any further incursions."

I listened carefully to all that was said, realising that the Guardians were conspiring to keep the severity of the situation secret from the inhabitants of the citadel. I carefully retreated, not wishing to confront any colleague of Tamar, for fear of what might ensue.

Hulva was in the process of preparing a vegetable stew. The smell was already incredibly appetising, but she informed me that it wouldn't be ready for another hour. I used the time to take a shower. Unlike Wicken's amenities, before I repaired them, they provided a strong flow of scalding hot water. I rinsed away two days of sweat and grime, shaved, and then emerged to feel human again once more.

Hulva's partner, a small thin man called Barok, muttered a few words of greeting and invited me to share their food. I thanked him kindly and delivered a heavily censored account of my life, prior to arriving at the village.