Chapter 9 #3
Ulric dismounted slowly, leaving his horses at the edge of the clearing. He tied them to a tree. No reason to spook them with the smell of death.
After checking the last knot he turned towards the camp.
The ground was torn up.
Signs of a struggle.
No.
Not a struggle.
An ambush.
Whoever had done this had been fast.
Several of the men had died where they sat.
Some had their throats cut.
Clean.
Precise.
Others had been crushed.
Many hadn’t even managed to draw their weapons.
Ulric cursed under his breath.
He walked through the clearing.
Counting the bodies.
His brow tightened.
Two were missing.
Valerius.
And—
“That traitorous bastard…”
His fist clenched.
For a moment the conclusion seemed obvious.
The oathbreaker had broken free somehow.
Killed them.
Then Ulric noticed something else.
Two sets of footprints.
In the wet ground.
Heavy boots.
One set steady.
The other dragging.
Ulric followed them out of the clearing.
His mind already constructing the story.
Aldric had taken Valerius alive.
Interrogation.
He said he needed access to the Citadel.
Ulric cursed under his breath.
In a few strides he reached his horses.
He grabbed the mace.
Then he ran.
Boots pounding against the earth.
The trail led through the trees.
Branches snapped beneath his boots.
Then the forest opened.
A dull metallic scrape reached his ears.
Ulric stepped into the clearing.
And froze.
A man knelt in the dirt.
A rag covered his head.
A dirty traveler’s cloak hung from his shoulders.
His hands were bound behind his back.
Behind him stood a towering silhouette.
Broad.
Massive.
A war hammer rested in the grass nearby.
Ulric stepped forward into the clearing.
Valerius slowly turned a bloody sword halted in mid-air.
For a moment the two inquisitors simply looked at one another.
Ulric’s gaze flicked briefly toward the camp and the bodies scattered through the trees, then back to Valerius.
“I don’t care who you kill,” Ulric said calmly. His eyes hardened.“You took my prisoner. Forged the Emperor’s seal. Got rid of any who witnessed the prisoner exchange.”
A pause.
“I’m curious.” His grip tightened around the mace. “Were you planning to ambush me as well once you were done with the heretic?”
Valerius said nothing.
He simply bent down, drove the sword into the ground, and lifted his battle hammer.
The iron head rose slowly.
His eyes burned.
Ulric shifted his stance.
The mace settled low at his side, both hands wrapped around the haft.
“I just want to know,” Ulric continued quietly, “before I kill you… if this treason was worth it.”
Valerius rolled his shoulders.
“You don’t understand what’s coming. The enemy is moving.” His voice was cold. He nodded toward the kneeling figure.“That man needs to die for the Order to survive.” A pause. “With him alive… Isendor and all of humanity will fall.”
He stepped forward—
The clash was instantaneous.
Hammer and mace blurred through the air.
The speed was shocking for weapons that size.
Steel shrieked as the first blows met.
Valerius swung wide.
Ulric pivoted and countered.
The mace whistled past Valerius’s head, close enough to tear strands of hair free.
The hammer crashed down in response.
Ulric slid aside.
The ground shattered where the weapon struck.
Neither man blinked.
Their movements were precise.
Disciplined.
Each strike aimed to kill.
Ulric pressed forward.
Valerius matched him step for step.
Hammer.
Mace.
Hammer.
Mace.
The clearing rang with the sound of iron.
Neither man gave ground.
For several brutal seconds the duel hung in perfect balance.
Then Valerius shifted.
The edge of his hammer scraped Ulric’s greave.
The blow nearly knocked him off balance.
Valerius surged forward to finish it—
And suddenly stumbled.
His boot caught something.
Ulric didn’t hesitate.
His forehead slammed into Valerius’s face.
Bone cracked.
Blood exploded from the inquisitor’s nose.
Before Valerius could recover, Ulric’s mace swung in a brutal arc—
And crashed into his flank.
The impact sounded like breaking stone.
Valerius grunted.
Collapsed to one knee.
Ulric stepped backwards.
One final swing.
The mace came down.
Valerius’s skull shattered beneath the blow.
Silence returned to the clearing.
A nearby crow burst from the branches, startled by the sudden stillness.
Ulric stood there for a moment.
Breathing heavily.
He looked down.
The rag lay on the ground.
Aldric sat in the dirt, his hands and feet still bound.
The grass around was disturbed. Aldric had shifted, catching Valerius’s boot and throwing him off balance.
Ulric’s jaw tightened.
Dirty play.
Yet they were alive.
And more importantly… there were no witnesses.
Still, the hair on the back of his neck stood up.
This whole situation was bad.
Really bad.
Ulric grunted and moved quickly.
First, he stripped the bloodied Inquisitor armor from Valerius’s corpse. Grime and darkened cloth clung stubbornly as he pulled it free. He buried it along with the war hammer, shoving both deep beneath loose soil and broken stone.
Then he lifted the corpse onto one shoulder and Aldric onto the other.
Once back at the camp, he wasted no time.
He dragged the bodies together, piling them into a single heap.
He crouched and struck flint to dry brush beneath the bodies.
A whisper escaped his lips.
A simple incantation.
Magic flared.
The flames surged higher.
They spread quickly, devouring cloth, leather, and flesh alike.
The fire crackled loudly in the growing darkness, smoke rising into the evening sky.
Ulric stood there, watching as the last of them turned to ash.
Then he stepped forward.
He grabbed Aldric by the collar and hauled him upright.
For a long moment, the two men simply looked at one another.
Then Aldric smiled faintly.
“Welcome to the other side, brother.”
They rode through the night and into the following day.
Hard and fast, as if something hunted them through the darkness.
Aldric’s hands were still bound, but his feet were loose.
He rode Valerius’s horse.
Ulric had been silent the whole way.
Eventually they came upon a small pond, shaded by a cluster of trees, and stopped.
The horses needed rest.
Ulric grabbed Aldric by the bindings and forced him down onto the ground beside the water.
“You make any moves—”
“You won’t do anything.”
Ulric froze.
His jaw tightened.
He inhaled slowly through his nose.
Held it.
Let it out.
Tried again.
Failed.
His grip tightened until the ropes creaked.
“I hate this.” He turned away for a moment, dragging a hand down his face. “Fuck!” He looked back at Aldric. “You dragged me into this mess.”
Aldric reached down with his bound hands, scooped a little water, and slurped it.
He glanced at Ulric from the corner of his eye.
“No,” Aldric said calmly. “I didn’t drag you into anything.
” He jerked his head back toward the road behind them.
“Back there, you decided to investigate. You wanted to know why another inquisitor tried to take me somewhere else, without a proper handoff.” A small shrug.
“Why he lied. And why he wanted to execute me without witnesses.”
Ulric said nothing.
He cursed under his breath and looked away.
Aldric continued.
“You can’t go back. Not now.”
Ulric immediately shot him a look.
“You’ve seen behind the curtain and you can’t unsee it.” He leaned back slightly against a rock. “Don’t even bother returning to the capital.”
Ulric’s jaw tightened.
“And why is that?”
Aldric met his gaze.
“Because someone powerful enough to turn an inquisitor just tried to erase both of us.” A pause. “And right now, brother… you are the only witness left.”
Ulric remained silent.
He exhaled slowly.
Aldric continued.
“They’ll brand you a heretic just like they did me. They’ll say I corrupted you. That both of us had to be cleansed to prevent corruption spread.” Aldric chuckled. “Even the Emperor listens when the Holy Order whispers in his ear. There’s no way out of this.”
Ulric looked him straight in the eyes.
Aldric’s expression didn’t change.
“You’re fucked.”
Ulric grew quiet.
For a long moment he said nothing.
Then he leaned forward and pressed his face into his hands.
His fingers dug into his temples.
The wind stirred across the water.
Aldric watched him for a moment.
“Not all is lost, brother.”
Ulric didn’t respond.
“There’s a world beyond Isendor. Why defend people who would burn you the moment you asked the wrong question?” A breath. “Even an inquisitor is expendable.”
Ulric remained still.
“What does that tell you about the system you so honorably want to defend?”
For a long moment there was only the sound of wind moving across the water.
Finally Ulric lowered his hands.
His eyes looked sharper now.
Clearer.
“I don’t trust you—but I trust the Rite of Cendaris.” He looked directly at Aldric. “I saw your soul. There was no corruption in it.” He took a deep breath. “Until I understand why it showed me that… you’re not leaving my sight.”
He leaned back slightly.
Exhaled.
“I suppose you have a plan of sorts.”
Aldric shrugged slightly.
“Yes. Until I step into the Well of Light.”
Ulric chuckled.
“You’re still clinging to that insanity. I’m telling you, one does not simply walk into the Citadel, or come back from the Light. Your soul becomes part of something greater. Returning from it is… almost impossible.”
“You managed to come back,” Aldric said.
“Barely.”
Ulric studied him.
He shook his head.
“You won’t even make it beyond the main gate of the Citadel, no matter what disguise you use.”
Aldric smiled faintly.
“That’s where you come in.”
Ulric stared at him.
Then slowly shook his head, resigned.
“Alright. Let’s entertain this ridiculous plan. Let’s say I take you as my prisoner… and somehow you walk into the Light.” He gestured vaguely. “Then what? You leave me behind to be torn apart by every knight in the Citadel?”
Aldric sighed and his expression hardened.
“I think I’ll need you to come with me into the Light.”
“What?”
Ulric’s expression shifted.
For a brief moment something similar to fear crossed his face.
Then it vanished behind anger.