Basilisk Moon

By Douglas Hankins

Herald and Nancy were happy to fight in the service of the King of England, but one rescue gone bad brings them face to face with the most powerful sorcerer in history. When a handful of peasants survive the first attempt to conquer the world, Herald is anxious to lead them into battle, but Nancy puts her trust in a mysterious old witch. Could the bond between Nancy and the witch save the survivors, and the rest of the world, or do they have darker motives of their own?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Douglas Hankins
• Release date: Nov 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310942549

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BASILISK MOON146

BASILISK MOON

Douglas Hankins

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013

BASILISK MOON

CHAPTER ONE

MANY ENEMIES

The rising of the morning mist had hidden us for the last two miles, which was lucky. Even so, I was so tired of listening to Reginald complain that I was ready to kill him myself. The marshes were usually solemn and quiet this early in the day, the silence broken only by waking birds and the occasional gulping croak of a lonely frog. But today the serenity was disturbed by nasal whining with a French accent.

You said there was a road! He said. You said there was a path through the forest, and you said a coach would be waiting! You didn’t say anything about a swamp!

Be quiet. I told him again, scanning the shadows for trouble.

My right hand gripped the hilt of my sword. Several times I almost drew it, for with a deft swing I could’ve sliced his head off; comfortable knowing his body would never be found.

Reginald was 12 years old, insufferable and heir to some French royalty. He was scrawny and pasty with a dainty lump of blonde hair perfectly perched on his head, as is the French fashion for nobles. He had pretty green eyes, spoiled, pouty lips and his delicate hands had never seen a days work or even a speck of dirt. It was easy to believe he had never been outdoors before we met three days ago.

I, on the other hand, had spent most of my life in the wild. I was always more comfortable with dirt under my nails and calluses on my hands. Give me a sturdy boot and a balanced sword and I can make my way in the world. I’m no hulking blacksmith but I can hold my own. I’ve actually taken a punch from a blacksmith and recovered. Reginald would bruise if I looked at him too hard.

But, he was my duty today, promising to pay me handsomely for smuggling him out of France. My wife, Nancy, who was waiting ahead, was glad to take the job thinking he may be related to her by some dim family indiscretion. Perhaps they are related but thankfully there was no family resemblance.

The two of us had trudged the marshes for hours, our knees below the smelly water. While insects had feasted on us, Reginald had eaten all the food, complaining the entire time.

Everyone is trying to kill you! I said. This is the safest way, trust me. Now shut up!

Trust you? He asked. My clothes are ruined, my feet are soaked and I’ve lost my pearl buckled shoes. And I disapprove of your insolence. I’m not accustomed to being spoken to in this fashion. What am I paying you for?

I will gladly give up the gold if you will just shut up!

This shirt is Chinese silk. Now it’s ruined.

I wanted to kill him.

Then I heard the signal. It was a different kind of bird call, made by Nancy, intentionally leading us to a specific point in the looming woods. She has an amazing ability to mimic nature and her call led us to a slight opening between the dark, foreboding trees where solid land sloped to greet the stinking water.

She, too, prefers the outdoors and is quite at home in the middle of a forest or the side of a mountain. She’s as sturdy as they come, and she, too, has taken a punch from a blacksmith. The same blacksmith, in fact. He’s dead now.

Since the English still harbor so much hatred for the French, with whom we had been warring for generations, Reginald would never have made it through the hamlets of France, found safe passage across the sea, or come so deeply into England without me. It had been a long journey and I was delighted it was coming to an end.

Nancy appeared from out of the forest; behind her were four soldiers hired to take Reginald to a waiting coach. It was good to see her, and she was glad to see me. She had returned to England three days ago to arrange Reginald’s further travels and had stories of her own to tell, judging by the look of her. Her eyes were weary, her shoulders constricted and an expression pinched her face. It had been a long journey for her as well. But even with our eyes met and our journey ended, we could not reveal our acquaintance with each other. Neither Reginald nor the soldiers knew of our alliance; which has many times kept us alive.

Here is Reginald, as promised. She said, I’ll take that gold, now.

I yielded Reginald, happy to be rid of him, but the soldiers had other ideas.

We thank you for your guidance, woman, the big one said, but we have no gold for Reginald, only hatred. Once we torture and kill him, we will do the same to you.

They threw open their cloaks, revealing themselves to be French guardsmen, with their own reasons to kill Reginald. Two of them seized Nancy, for it took two to hold her, and the other two advanced on Reginald.

I left my sword undrawn, for one of the soldiers had a knife to my wife’s throat.

Take him, I entreated the soldier, but leave the wayward girl. I’m sure she has a life in England.

Not after today. He said.

The soldier swung his broadsword toward my neck. I ducked in time, the blade skimmed over my head. While the soldier spun off balance, I brought my rapier up hard into his throat, piercing his head. Broadswords work well against knights in heavy armor, but those who wield them are often slow and stupid, so the slender steel rapier is my weapon of choice.

Nancy prefers the bow, but kept two daggers hidden and was using one to slice one of the men holding her. He let her go to draw his sword, but her other dagger found its way into his eye. He dropped like a stone.

She took a moment to face me, her long red hair fluttering, framing her crystal blue eyes.

I haven’t been wayward since I was nine. She sneered.

I should point out that we abhor violent confrontations which end in fatality. We prefer peaceful solutions, using our weapons only for defense and only against those willing to die for their cause. We kill only when met with no other choice.

Reginald! She screamed, drawing my attention to the soldier about to split Reginald’s skull.

His thick neck made an easy target, so I threw my sword; it sank half its length into his throat. Before he fell his blade hung in mid air, poised above Reginald, who was frozen with silent horror.

The last soldier lunged, his weapon held high. Mine was still imbedded in his comrades’ throat; I could not reach it in time.

Fortunately one of Nancy’s’ arrows sank into his forehead, killing him instantly. It wasn’t the first time her marksmanship had saved me, and it won’t be the last.

Reginald tried to stand, staggering against a tree. He was crying a little.

This way! Nancy called. She ran ahead, sensing danger, so I grabbed Reginald’s arm and hurried after her. Though we were running for our lives I was enjoying two things; the refreshing absence of Reginald’s voice and the firmness of my wife’s body as she ran.

Men have always treated her as they would any pretty woman until she bests them with her skill. She accepts any challenge and always wins. She can out-run, out-shoot, out-ride and out-drink any man I have ever met.

We met two years ago when coincidence brought us together. She was pursuing a Cardinal of the Inquisition who had murdered her brother. I was rescuing a Friar from the same Cardinal, so we met to fight the same enemy quite by chance. When I first saw her she was killing a man twice her size. She was surrounded by armed men, but she moved with confidence and grace and dispatched them all as if performing some morbid ballet. I watched with amazement and awe. I didn’t even notice when she turned on me. So enchanted was I that she almost killed me too, so I surrendered to her. She fought bravely with swift mind and stout body, and I was amazed by the firmness of her. With a piece of flint one could strike sparks off her buttocks and a glorious fire would ensue.

We were wed that day in the Spanish forest by Friar Fipple, whom we had rescued from the Inquisition. I stood proudly with my dark curls shifting in the sunlight, my mahogany eyes smoldering. He lavishly blessed our union, then promptly invited us to live with him in Italy. Today I almost wish we had.

We joined forces in escapade as well as matrimony, and things have happened swiftly since. We crossed countries foul and friendly, made friends and enemies, won significant victories and lost brutal battles, but always escaped with our lives and so loved on.

Having spent the last three days with the irritant Reginald, I was anxious to speak with her, but we were running fast, out of breath, our lives in danger.

There they are! came a shout from the shadowy forest.

A volley of arrows whizzed by. One of them brushed Nancy’s hair, another pierced Reginald’s trousers, pinning him to a tree. He froze with wide eyes and open mouth, and collapsed.

The soldiers were obsessed with Reginald, for ten more advanced from all sides. We were boxed in, nowhere to run. As Nancy killed one man, she was grabbed by another, and when I turned to help, I was confronted with several swords pointed at my heart.

Drop your sword! The captain commanded.

Reluctantly I dropped my weapon, spreading my arms in submission.

You nearly made it to the crossroads. He smiled. It was clever of you to take the marshes; we could never have followed without this.

He held up a pearl buckled shoe still caked with mud.

My shoe! Reginald cried happily.

Bind him. The captain ordered. And try to keep him alive until we reach France.

The soldiers grumbled.

Then kill this rogue and cut off that winches hand. She killed good soldiers with her bow; she will do that no longer.

One of them eagerly seized her arm, raising his sword. Before he could swing, I used my foot to arch my blade from the ground into his unprotected thigh. He screamed, dropping his sword, which Nancy scooped up and drove into his groin. I used an arrow from her quiver to stab him, and after he fell we fought back to back, a position which suited us.

You’ve lost weight. I said.

She fired an arrow into the man charging her, attaching his head to the tree where Reginald lay. Reginald squealed in terror.

I hate vagabonds. She said. They like to make deals at night. I was on my toes the entire time.

A broadsword sliced by, taking some of my hair, but I drove my weapon through the man’s ears hard enough to skewer his head. I took his sword as he fell, pushing it into another man’s chest.

You look tired. I said. You must have slept on your feet.

Another man fell, her arrow in his chest.

Slept? she said, I haven’t slept in three days.

I used the broadsword to decapitate the French captain and as his head hit the ground the remaining soldiers abandoned the attack. Nancy used her last three arrows killing them as they fled, but one escaped with only a flesh wound. We knew he would return with reinforcements.

We took a moment to greet properly.

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