WeatherMaker Hearts Desire Prologue

‘So’ Woodworm began, summing up their predicament, ’we’ve barely started our quest, and we’re somehow worse off than when we began. We’re no closer to finding the real Amaia, and we have somehow gotten ourselves into a situation where we are hunted by none other……then the frikkin prince himself. How the fuck did we manage to fuck up so badly so early on?’

‘We couldn’t have known it was him’ Flunkit reasoned.

‘This is all your fault’ Woodworm shot at him. ‘If you hadn’t fired the first arrow then we wouldn’t be in this mess.’

‘Me?’ Flunkit replied defensively.

‘We should have just left her there’ Woodworm glared at Annabel.

She glared fearfully back at him, having quickly learnt that Woodworm was not to be trusted, she kept her distance from all of them, especially him.

‘And let her be taken by those men?’ Shawn said rising to the bait. ‘Why don’t you just shut your fucking mouth?’

Woodworm began to growl at him, standing slowly and turning in his direction as if preparing to fight.

‘Gods will you two just give it a rest?’ Arlen said loudly, sighing into his hand. ‘I’m fed up with the both of you.’

‘How long do we have to stay here?’ Annabel spoke up, hating the fact that the others were arguing over her, she tried to draw attention elsewhere.

Woodworm and Shawn relaxed slightly, their attention taken off one another as they became distracted.

‘I don’t think it’s safe to stay here anymore’ Carrot said. ‘Those men will surely pick up our trail now that the sun is rising……it’s only a matter of time.’

‘I think we should go deeper into the cave’ Blunkit suggested. ‘There is a way through, the cave opens up elsewhere. If those men are looking for us, they have more chance of finding us if we stay here.’

‘But we’re running out of food’ Farrell told him.

‘It’s ok’ Flunkit replied. ‘I could return to the village we came from. I could go back and get us something to last the journey to the next town or village we come across.’

‘We can’t stay here if we risk being found’ Farrell argued.

’It ok Flunkit said again. ‘I know the way through this cave. I will find you again.’

‘But we can’t wait for you’ Arlen said.

‘We won’t have to’ Blunkit told him. ‘I know the way through. I will lead you.’

Farrell glanced doubtfully towards Flunkit again.

‘Don’t worry’ Flunkit beamed encouragingly, ‘my brother and I have been through this cave many times. We know these lands better than most.’

‘You’re brothers?’ Farrell raised an eyebrow.

‘Oh, did we not mention it before?’ Blunkit asked obviously, knowing full well that he hadn’t.

‘I should have known’ Farrell said turning to Barrel. ‘Naming them Blunkit and Flunkit. Of course they had to be brothers.’

Barrel just smirked knowingly back at him.

‘I’ll be as quick as I can’ Flunkit said rising.

He took some money and a few bare essentials, mounting one of the horses and riding at a trot, the horse flicking its tail and tossing its head as it went. Flunkit was quickly swallowed by the light shining at the mouth of the tunnel.

‘We had better get a move on’ Blunkit told the others.

‘Can we get through here with the horses?’ Arlen asked him.

‘Just about’ Blunkit replied. ‘But our pace will be slow.’

‘What if the others catch us?’ Shawn asked.

‘Oh don’t worry’ Blunkit smiled. ‘My brother will sort that out.’

They packed their things away quickly and loaded the horses. Shortly after, they were walking at a gentle pace through the cave, led by the fire Annabel had summoned in her hand; they were able to see where they stepped.

‘That’s just incredible’ Flute Stick said as they witnessed her magic for a second time.

‘It’s lucky you’re able to do that’ Carrot remarked. ‘Just what we need. What are the odds?’

‘Fire is an obvious element for Weather Makers’ Annabel answered curtly. ‘Most Weather Makers have this ability.’

‘I wonder what people would give to be able to do something like that’ Flute Stick said staring at Annabel hungrily.

Annabel turned her eyes uncomfortably away from him as they walked.

‘I don’t think…’ Annabel went on, ‘that could ever happen. We cannot pass on our powers to others, only our children, and only girls.’

‘Hmm’ Flute Stick sighed mournfully. ‘That’s a shame.’

Several hours later, they sat down to rest. The horses were led to one of the many shallow pools scattered throughout the cave, and allowed to drink. They rested standing up. The other members of the troupe unloaded the bags the horses carried, but kept them saddled. Annabel observed as they each rolled out their sleeping mats, lying down to sleep or preparing something to eat, all the while, holding the burning flame in her hand as she did so. She had been keeping this fire burning since they descended into the cave, and the effort of keeping it alight was exhausting for her.

She kept her distance from the others as she sat and watched, a short time later, Shawn approached her, again offering his own sleeping mat for her to use. They had after all taken her at short notice, and she had nothing with her but the clothes she wore.

‘That’s very kind of you’ Annabel said. ‘But what about you?’

‘I’ll use Flunkit’s’ Shawn replied. ‘He left it behind when he left us. Are you hungry?’

‘No’ Annabel shook her head.

‘Are you sure? You haven’t eaten at all since you’ve been with us.’

‘It’s hard to feel hungry when you’ve been suddenly put into this kind of situation.’

‘I’m sorry’ Shawn said. ‘None of us meant for this to happen.’

‘Maybe I should be thanking you’ Annabel said. ‘I don’t know what those men would have done to me if they succeeded in taking me.’

‘I wouldn’t exactly say you’re well off here with us’ Shawn replied, considering the burley mercenaries behind them. Some of them were already snoring loudly as they slept.

‘I feel like they view me as a piece of meat’ Annabel admitted.

‘They probably do.’

‘I……I wanted to thank you for sticking up for me. I don’t really know who you are or what’s going on, but you’ve been kind to me.’

’Any decent man would have done the same.’

‘But we are not in a world filled with decent men’ she replied. ‘Are we?’

Shawn smiled at that.

‘You should get some rest’ he said to her.

‘Well…’ Annabel bowed her head. ‘I’ll try at least.’

He left her there, returning to the other mercenary’s and pulling out his own sleeping mat to lie on. Annabel at last released her magic, the fire went out, and the cave fell into complete and utter darkness.

Sometime later, Farrell woke. The dreams he was experiencing had become as familiar to him as he own heartbeat.

He didn’t know if it had been hours, or mere minutes, but the last thing that stayed with him from the dream that was quickly slipping from his memory, were the woods that were beginning to haunt him, and the voice which called out to him.

‘Find me…’

He drew a heavy sigh, closing his eyes again. Though it made little different in the darkness of the cave.

He sat there for the longest time, willing himself to doze off again. The others around him were still, some of the mercenaries snoring heavily in their sleep. He was about to drift off again, when he heard one of the bodies moving nearby.

Farrell’s mind became more aware as he listened. He didn’t know who it was, but one of the men around him had risen. Farrell saw the dim glow of a white light, held a hand of one of the mercenaries. He wondered what it was, and where the mercenary was going. He decided that perhaps he was going to relieve himself, but as the minutes ticked on, Farrell realised this could not have been the case.

The mercenary was gone for a long while, but Farrell waited nonetheless, staying awake to see when he would return and for how long he would be gone. When he finally did return, he did so quietly, and made to lay back down on his matt as if nothing had happened. But then he noticed Farrell watching him.

Blunkit smiled, letting out a deep sigh as he lay back down.

‘My skills must be fading in my old age’ he said. ‘I never used to wake people when I went off to do a job.’

‘What were you doing?’ Farrell asked him in a whisper as he sat up, leaning on his one good arm. The splint he was endured to wear was becoming tiresome.

Blunkit wore a strange expression to his question.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

Farrell just stared back.

Blunkit cleared his throat, quietly so as not to bother the others still sleeping.

‘I was eh…’ he said, ‘fixing a problem. Don’t you worry; the prince won’t be coming after us now. Don’t worry I didn’t kill him’ Blunkit added hastily at the expression on his face. ‘I just…disabled his soldiers.’

‘Disabled’ Farrell echoed flatly.

‘Yup’ Blunkit replied cheerily. ‘Dead men aren’t much good at anything really, are they?’

He sat up on his mat with a smile.

‘Sooo’ Farrell went on. ‘You’re an assassin?’

‘Yeah’ Blunkit replied casually. ‘I’m not as good as I used to be though.’

Farrell glanced sideways at him. Blunkit was by no means fat, but he wasn’t exactly lean either, his skin was well worn and there were flecks of grey in his hair and beard.

‘What’s that thing you carry?’ Farrell asked him, indicating the glow of light that dimly lit up both their faces.

‘Oh’ Blunkit said. He drew it out to show Farrell. It looked like a small pebble. Though it wasn’t anything natural, it was emitting a strange white light. ‘This…’ Blunkit said. ‘This is just a silly little thing. It’s a rare item the king gives out to his most trusted assassins. It’s nothing special really; it’s just a small stone that glows. It never seems to lose its power.’

‘Nothing special?’ Farrell repeated, examining it as Blunkit held it out for him to take. ‘Most I’m sure would disagree.’

The object was small, and was smooth as he rubbed it between his fingers.

‘The white ones are especially rare’ Blunkit went on. ‘Most you get are a greenish blue in colour.’

Farrell remembered something then. Years ago when he had been asked by the king to search for some strange creature underground, he remembered how the walls themselves seemed to glow a strange sickly greenish blue, in the otherwise light-less tunnel.

‘You must have been very special to the king to be given a white one if they’re that rare.’

‘Nah’ Blunkit smirked taking it back. ‘I nicked it.’

‘Oh.’

‘Well’ Blunkit shrugged. ‘I took it from another assassin I killed. He didn’t need it. I guess it doesn’t count so much as stealing if the other guy’s dead right? His fault for letting his guard down.’

‘Right’ Farrell replied unconvinced.

‘The king should have chosen a better man to give such a gift to’ Blunkit went on.

‘Are you ok with killing the prince’s men if you work for the king?’ Farrell asked him.

‘Oh, I don’t work for the king anymore’ Blunkit shook his head. ‘I’m too old now. I haven’t worked for the king for a long time.’

‘How did you come to be in his services?’

‘Well’ Blunkit grinned widely. ‘That is a story that began a long time ago. My brother and I…in the beginning we lived a very comfortable life. My father…he was a big fancy man. I wasn’t sure back then exactly what he did, but now looking back I think he was probably a merchant or something. He had a lot of money, and we lived an easy life. My mother was a very beautiful woman, everyday she wore the most beautiful rings and gems and jewels. I remember both my parents always dressed finely. My brother and I would always get the best of everything, we were the envy of our friends; oh it was a good feeling.’ He smiled to himself as he lay back down and stretched out on the matt. ‘Our house was large, we had courtyards and gardens and pools…I remember how our home was always busy. There was just me and my brother and my parents, but my father would always have people walking around the house. They must have been men he worked with I suppose, he spent a lot of time in his office talking about money and making deals me and my brother didn’t understand. We were intrigued. Some days we would creep about trying to listen to the things he said to these strangers that always came to the house. But we were young and got bored of that very quickly. Besides we didn’t understand what he was talking about anyway.’ Blunkit nodded to himself. ‘Life was good.’

‘So what happened?’ Farrell asked.

‘What happened?’ Blunkit repeated. ’I’m not entirely sure. Something happened one day that changed everything. I remember my parents arguing over something, it was strange, our parents never argued. At least not like that. I remember me and my brother listening through the door and peering through the keyhole. Both our parents seemed frightened. I think perhaps my father got into money problems. Borrowed from the wrong people and couldn’t pay back…that sort of thing. Anyway…’ he shrugged. ‘That night, my father came to our bedroom after our mother had put us to bed. He said he was going to read us a bedtime story, which was strange, because he never did that before. It was always our mother who read us stories. And I remember….thinking how he didn’t seem himself. He seemed nervous. Scared. He said to me and my brother, that he loved the both of us very much, and that we meant the world to him, which was also out of character. Then…a short time later when he was nearing the end of the story, he slumped forwards, falling on my brother’s bed. It took a few seconds for us to realise he was dead. There was a feathered dart in the back of his neck. It was bright red.’

‘He was murdered?’

‘Yes’ Blunkit nodded. ‘He was assassinated. And you know what the strangest thing is?’

‘What?’

‘We never saw the assassin.’

Farrell waited silently for him to continue.

‘We moved house after that, mother was distraught, and a few years later, life returned to what could be called normal, though we weren’t as well off for money, and my mother was never the same again. Me and my brother lived our normal lives, forgetting the incident in which our father had died, until the day we were specially selected to fight in the king’s army.’

‘Specially selected?’ Farrell said. ‘That doesn’t happen very often. You must have been good.’

‘Well…’ Blunkit shrugged. ‘I was young and fit and liked to fight. Got into trouble all the time with people, and my first instinct was the throw a punch. We lived in a big town and there were a lot of jerks who lived nearby. Oh it used to upset mother dearly, especially when Finlay started doing the same. The number of times we came home with black eyes and various other wounds we couldn’t explain to her. We just got noticed one day by the right people.’

‘Finlay? Is that Flunkit’s real name?’

Blunkit smirked. ‘Yeah, and my real name’s Brandon. Anyway, we began our training, it was tough, but I think the men in charge had other plans for us. We were sent on a suicide mission, but miraculously me and my brother survived. It was a gruesome scene; there was blood everywhere, bright red and freshly flowing. And then I remembered, that bright red dart sticking out of my father’s neck, and then I thought to myself……if I’m going to risk my life doing dangerous shit, I may as well make it worthwhile. When I told the men in charge I wanted to be an assassin, they were surprised. But due to the skills and ability to survive that me and my brother seemed to possess, we were accepted into the king’s Secret Army, and trained as assassins. We were trained for years, and were tested all the time. But do you know what our final test was?’

‘No?’

‘I thought it would be really difficult. Some complicated plan to infiltrate some high security place and kill some fancy man and get out again unseen but no. It wasn’t what I thought it would be…not at all…’

‘What was it?’ Farrell asked.

‘It was difficult, but the test was a lot simpler than I anticipated. An assassin must be ruthless, heartless. Cold. Our final test…was to murder an innocent child.’

Farrell’s heart skipped a beat as he listened, new emotions washing over him as he considered this stranger. ‘Who was the child?’

‘Dunno’ Blunkit shrugged. ‘Some poor victim. Probably the child of one of our previous targets we had to kill. Gods he was young, and so very frightened.’

‘And did you do it?’

‘Had to. Had no choice.’ Blunkit shrugged again carelessly as if it were of no consequence. ‘For years we worked as assassins’ he went on. ‘Until we got too old. Now me and my brother are mercenaries.’ Blunkit glanced towards Farrell. ‘We never did find out how the story our father told us ended.’

’If you had such a good life back at home then why did you leave?

‘It wasn’t fitting our needs’ Blunkit shrugged. ‘Buying pretty clothes and being waited on is nice, but seeing a man tremble in fear and wet himself at the sight of you, knowing the end is coming…well…nothing beats that feeling. It’s almost…godlike…to have that kind of power.’ He breathed deeply, as if the memories brought him pleasure.

‘I’m surprised you want to tell me all of this’ Farrell noted.

‘Well’ Blunkit waved at him. ‘I’ve lived far longer than many assassins have, my brother too. I suppose someone may as well hear my story before I die. What about you then?’ Blunkit asked turning to him. ‘What’s your story?’

‘Hm’ Farrell frowned. ‘I’m afraid…it’s not a very nice story.’

‘We all have a dark mark in our past. Just remember not to let it shadow your future.’

Farrell glanced up at Blunkit, surprised by such words.

‘Hey’ Blunkit snickered gleefully. ‘The prince should be waking soon. Oh how I wish I was there to see the look on his face when he finds out what happened to his men.’

Farrell raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t ask what Blunkit had done to them.

He thought of the prince then, and remembered the strange look he had given him when they had met. It was unsettling the way he had looked at each of their faces in turn, remembering them, but when he looked at Farrell, a flicker of recognition crossed his expression. Farrell wondered who he was, and if he had met him before.

Never mind he thought as he lay down to rest. It will come to me in time.

The prince woke at some point. It was forever dark inside the cave, and was impossible to tell what time of day or night it was. Nevertheless, Tristan felt he has overslept. But it was not the passage of time that had woken him, but a damp feeling that had touched his skin.

Tristan sat up, feeling an uneasy sensation in his heart. He wanted to call out to the others, but some instinct inside him stopped him from doing so. He reached into his bags, feeling around in the dark for what he needed. He lit a fire. It took him several attempts to light the torch, and when he did, the sight that greeted him was an unwelcome one.

Every single one of his men were dead, their throats slit while they slept, their blood seeping into the pools within the caves. They would never know what happened to them. Would never know who killed them. This Tristan thought, could only be the work of an assassin. To kill men while they sleep is not the soldier’s way.

Alone now, save for his horse, he shouldered his bag and retreated, heading through the cave, and back the way he had come. He left the other horses where they were. They would find their way; they were free from their masters now.

When Tristan found at last the path of light that led back into the open world, he was met by a small band of his soldiers that he had previously ordered to follow after him.

‘Do we continue to pursue them?’ one of his soldiers asked him.

‘No’ Tristan shook his head. ‘We return home.’

‘We do not pursue the target?’

‘No’ Tristan replied again, staring back into the cave. ‘I do not think she is the one I’m looking for.’

‘Where are the other men?’ the soldier asked.

Tristan lowered his eyes.

‘We return home’ Tristan repeated, turning back to the soldier who spoke. ‘Gather the men. I don’t want to spend another night sleeping either under stars or upon rocks.’

‘Yes your highness.’

Free now from the uneven cave floor, Tristan mounted his horse. He followed his men as they headed back where they had come from, walking at the back of the group. But something was on his mind that troubled him, a thought he could not shake.

That man he thought. I know him from somewhere. But where? Who is he?