Jarryd: Chapter 18

Jarryd and the others returned to town near sunset. They’d found nothing. Not even a single track. All of them were discouraged and tired.

Yet none of them went home. By unspoken agreement, they all headed for the inn. Others were arriving as well. Jarryd saw others who’d been searching. He didn’t need to ask if they’d found anything. Their expressions told him everything he needed to know.

The common room was already mostly full. Lots of eyes went to Jarryd as he entered. Not all of them were friendly. Kath hurried over to him and hugged him. She didn’t ask, and he didn’t offer. There wasn’t really anything to say.

From the hallway leading to the rooms, the wife of the missing man entered. She was very pale, her eyes red from crying. Someone moved to let her have his seat. She sat down and put her head in her hands. Looking at her, Jarryd couldn’t help but feel guilty. He’d failed her. He’d failed the whole town.

The meeting started. Right away, people started arguing. Some wanted more patrols. Some said they were a waste of time.

The meeting was fully underway when the door opened, and the Rector came in. Following him were Nathen, Ewert and two other men. Jarryd groaned. Kath put her arm around him.

The Rector didn’t look around the room. He strode right to the woman. She looked up at him. He pointed at Jarryd.

“That man knows where your husband is.”

The woman shot a confused, frightened look at Jarryd.

Kath pushed forward, moving closer to the Rector. “That’s a lie, and you know it!”

Jarryd took hold of her arm, suddenly afraid that she meant to physically attack the man.

The Rector ignored her and kept addressing the woman. “Ever since he was a child, he has cavorted with demons.”

“That’s a lie, too,” Kath said through gritted teeth. She really looked like she wanted to take pieces out of him.

The Rector continued, unperturbed. “He grew to manhood, and one day he left. Snuck away like a thief, abandoning his parents.”

Kath made a sound Jarryd thought might be a growl.

“He returned at night. That same night, his parents were brutally murdered. And Jarryd fled.” He flung the words at Jarryd, and Jarryd caught a glimpse of cruel triumph in his eyes. How badly he wanted his revenge on Jarryd.

“They were murdered by assassins,” Kath said. “How dare you imply that Jarryd had—”

“I’m not implying. I am saying it. Jarryd fled after killing his parents. Perhaps they tried to dissuade him from his evil path, and he killed them in a fit of rage. I don’t know, but I believe it to be so.”

There were angry mutters in the room. Jarryd had to hold onto Kath to keep her from throwing herself at the Rector.

“A year and a half later, he returns,” the Rector continued, turning back to the woman. His deep-set eyes glittered. He was savoring this. “He comes with wild tales of fighting dragons. What was he doing while he was away? I wonder.” He looked around the room. “He says he fought against the Emperor, but do we really know that? Might he not have fought for the Emperor? We’ve had other soldiers from the Emperor’s army attack us. Who is to say he is not one of them?”

“Now hold on,” Lenno interrupted. “No more of your lies. You are under my roof.”

The Rector spread his hands. “I’m only asking questions. As a concerned citizen of this town, do I not have that right?”

“Let him finish,” Nathen said, crossing his arms. “I want to hear what he has to say.” Others in the room nodded in agreement, far too many for Jarryd’s comfort.

“Think about it. While he was gone, there were no attacks.”

“You forgot about the dragon,” Vern said. “Jarryd wasn’t here then.”

“No, he wasn’t here. But think about it. Why would a dragon attack Creekside? We aren’t important in any way. There are plenty of other villages the dragon could have attacked, but it only attacked us. Why? It has to have something to do with Jarryd.”

Kath spoke. “I think the dragon attacked us because the Emperor saw that Jarryd was a threat to him.”

The Rector waved this off and leaned closer to the woman. “He is back only a few months, and the attacks begin. First, this thing killed a bull. Now it has carried away your husband. All these events can only point to one person. Someone who cavorts with demons.”

The widow looked at Jarryd in horror. More of the villagers were giving Jarryd dark looks.

The Rector straightened and put his hand over his heart. “I will find your husband and return him to you, good lady. You can count on me and the god Vidon.”

He made his way to the door, Ewert and Nathen right behind him, along with the other two. At the door, he turned back to the room.

“I will be holding services tonight. We shall beseech Vidon for his aid in defeating this evil. Only with his grace can we be safe.”

The room burst out into argument as soon as he left. The woman stood and turned on Jarryd. “You monster!” she cried and ran from the room.

After everyone had left, Jarryd slumped at one of the tables and put his head in his hands. “That couldn’t have gone any worse.”

Kath sat down beside him and stroked his back. “I’m so sorry. I hate Freckus. I wish the monster had taken him.”

Jarryd sat up and turned to her. “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t go that route. Don’t hate. Don’t start wishing people dead. I’ve been down that road. It’s ugly. It’s not who you are.”

“You’re right,” she said, setting her jaw. “But it’s clear he has it in for you. He won’t be happy until the whole town turns on you. It’s not right.”

“Are you sure?”

She gave him an angry look. “Sure of what?”

“None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for me.”

“Not this again.”

“We don’t know that I didn’t let that thing out when I went into the borderlands.”

“We don’t know that you did, either.”

“Let’s put it this way. If I didn’t let it out, then who did? I can’t believe there is anyone else nearby who can open a door into the Borderlands. Gran made it sound like there’s no one else anywhere who can do that.”

Kath wasn’t ready to concede. “Then it didn’t come from there. It’s something left over from the Empire’s army. Like those men who attacked us.”

“Maybe so. But why did it come here?” He thought about the assassins that had tracked him for so long. Could this be an assassin? He’d seen winged ones at the battle of Galtry.

Kath’s scowl darkened. “I don’t like what you’re saying.”

“But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t need to be said. Whether it’s true or not, the Rector made some real points, and people are going to think about what he said. And the truth is that all these things are connected to me in one way or another.”

“That doesn’t make it your fault.”

“You’re right.” He stood up. “But as you said, I’m a Knight. Now and forever. It is my responsibility to keep the world safe from things like this. So far, I have failed in my duty. One person is dead. I can’t let any more die.”

Kath was standing now too. “What are you planning to do?”

“I’m going to keep watch on the temple. I know it seems crazy, but I can’t shake the feeling that he is part of this. And I don’t really know what else to do.”

She threw her arms around him. “Take others with you. You shouldn’t face this thing alone. You don’t know how powerful it is.”

“I can’t. We talked about this. I don’t want anyone else getting killed.”

“But you shouldn’t go alone.”

“I’m the only one who can. A single Knight once saved the entire Nagyar people from an entire army. This is what we do.”

She squeezed him even tighter before letting him go. She stepped back and looked up at him.

“Be careful. I need you to come back to me.”

“I plan to come back to you. I already did once. The Emperor himself wasn’t able to stop me. What chance does one monster have?”

She kissed him and gave him a sad smile. “I believe you. I believe in you. You can do this.”

“Thank you. You don’t know how much that helps to hear that.”

He opened the door. She saw that it was raining outside. “Let me get my father’s cloak for you.”

 

Jarryd was very glad for the cloak when it started raining harder on the way to the temple. He pulled it close and snugged the hood.

There were two carriages and several horses tied up outside the temple. Lights glowed through the windows. Jarryd circled the place. Still no sign of the monster. He positioned himself where he could see the belfry clearly. If it was here, that was where it was coming and going. All he needed to do was wait.

In due time, the people left the temple and went home. Only one small light burned inside now, on the second floor.

He waited. The light went out. The rain came down harder. He saw no movement anywhere.

Finally, when dawn was just starting to etch the eastern horizon, he gave up and went home. He was so tired, he couldn’t see straight. Why hadn’t he seen the monster? Was it simply avoiding the rain? Had it already left the temple before he got there?

Or was he wrong and it had nothing to do with the Rector after all?

Too many questions, and not enough answers.

He went home and fell asleep with his clothes on, the cloak dripping rainwater from its hook by the door.

He awakened to sunlight and someone banging on his door. Rubbing his eyes, he opened the door. It was Swick, and he had bad news.

“Who?” Jarryd asked.

“The widow Ferah. Her neighbors offered to let her stay with them, but she said no. They found her door smashed open this morning and blood on the floor.”

Jarryd groaned. “Let me get my sword.”

Soon, they were hurrying into town.

“Do you know when it happened?” Jarryd asked him, wondering if the creature left the temple after he went home. Did it know he was there the whole time?

“I don’t know. I just heard it from someone else and knew I needed to come get you. People are looking for you.”

“Yeah.” He had a feeling how most of them would react to him. How many more supporters had he lost? How long before the Rector convinced them that Jarryd should be burned?

He didn’t have to ponder the question long.

Creekside was in an uproar. There were no women or children to be seen on the streets, only men. All of them were armed and striding about in packs. Almost no one was venturing out alone.

Jarryd went to Ferah’s house first, wanting to see it for himself. On the way, he passed by old lady Polly’s house. He briefly saw her at a window before she pulled the curtain closed. Did she blame him now too?

Ferah’s front gate was open, along with the door to her house. A trail of blood came from the house, ending just past the front stoop where there were two of the three-toed footprints.

“I’m not going in there,” Swick said, stopping in the front garden. “I don’t do good with blood.”

There wasn’t much reason to go inside. The door was in splinters. Whatever broke it down was definitely strong. A chair was tipped over. The rug bunched up as if it had caught on the foot of someone being dragged. There was a broken teacup on the floor.

Jarryd couldn’t tell how old the blood was. What was inside had dried. What was outside was smeared by the rain.

He and Swick were leaving the place when a group of men rounded the corner and came walking up the lane toward them. At the front was Nathen.

“There you are!” Nathen shouted.

Swick stepped behind Jarryd. Jarryd said nothing.

“There’s another death at your feet,” Nathen spat. “You never should have come back.”

The words bit deep, especially because Jarryd had been having the same thought. The people of Creekside didn’t deserve this.

“You’re not going to get away with this.”

Swick tugged on Jarryd’s sleeve. “We should get out of here. I don’t like how this looks.”

Jarryd didn’t either. He’d seen enough angry, frightened people on his journeys to know what they looked like. They were on the edge of violence. All they needed was a little push to knock them over the edge.

He and Swick turned the other way and walked off. Nathen shouted after them.

Swick looked over his shoulder. “They’re following us.”

“No, they’re following me. You need to get out of here.”

But Swick didn’t leave. He drew himself straighter. “No. We’re mates. Mates don’t abandon each other.”

Jarryd gave him a surprised look.

They came to the square in the middle of town. Jarryd saw with dismay that the Rector was there. He was standing in the same place he’d stood on that awful day when they burned Barney. Near him was a stake driven into the ground, a pile of wood by it and a clay jug of oil. The Rector’s eyes lit on Jarryd instantly.

“There he is!” he yelled, pointing.

There were at least fifty people in the square. Jarryd didn’t see many allies. What he did see were a lot of fearful and angry looks.

“He killed again!” Freckus screeched. “This time it was a poor, lonely widow. Who will be next? Your children? Your wives?”

Jarryd looked over his shoulder and saw Nathen and his crowd coming up behind him, closing off that retreat. He’d have to go through the square to get to another street.

“Bind him! Bring him to me! Let him suffer the fate reserved for all who traffic with demons!”

Swick looked around wildly. “Um…Jarryd?”

Jarryd was thinking. He could escape them easily enough. Two running steps and a jump and he’d be on the nearest rooftop. Even if they caught hold of him, he could break away.

But that meant revealing his abilities, something that was sure to only inflame them further. They’d be sure he was guilty after that. He also couldn’t leave Swick behind, for fear they would take out their rage on him.

They were closing in on him. Not just people from the square, but behind him as well. Some were carrying ropes. One man held a chain.

New voices were approaching from a side street. Perhaps twenty or thirty men. At their head were Lenno, Vern and Hervin.

“Don’t touch him!” Vern yelled. He was waving a pitchfork.

“What’s wrong with you people?” Lenno yelled. “Jarryd has lived here his whole life. You know he didn’t do this.”

“We don’t know anything about Jarryd,” Ewert said. “Him and his parents came out of nowhere. Maybe they were in on it too. Maybe they lost control of the demons and that’s what killed them.”

Vern pointed at Freckus. “If anyone’s getting burned today, it should be you.”

“His poison has infected others,” Freckus said. “How far will it spread? Our only chance is to cut out the heart of the disease.” His followers edged closer. The torch in the Rector’s hand sputtered. “Seize him. Let us end this.”

Both the ones around him and the ones accompanying Nathen moved closer, weapons bared.

Lenno moved close to Jarryd and spoke in a low voice. “We need to get you out of here before this explodes.”

“I agree.”

Lenno caught the eye of a couple of those with him and jerked his chin. They nodded back.

To Jarryd’s surprise, they surrounded him, walling him off from the Rector’s followers. They had clearly planned this.

“Back the way we came,” Lenno said. “Quickly. No sudden moves.”

Flanking Jarryd, they headed for the street they’d come in on. A few of the Rector’s men moved to bar their way as the Rector yelled at them to not let Jarryd get away. But they didn’t look sure of themselves, and they yielded as Jarryd’s group bore down on them.

Egged on by the Rector’s shouts, some followed them, but their numbers dwindled rapidly the further they went and eventually they all stopped. Lenno led them to the inn. Once they were all inside, he barred the door. He wiped sweat from his forehead.

“That was close.”

“I thought they was gonna come at us,” Swick said. “I think I might have peed myself a little.”

“It takes a bit to work up a man to cut his neighbor down,” Hervin observed, settling into a chair with a sigh. “I was hoping they weren’t there yet.”

Vern was peeking out the window. “One more death and they’ll get there.” He looked at Jarryd. “We better find that thing before then. We start spilling each other’s blood, there won’t be a Creekside anymore.”

Lenno nodded. “I agree.”

Everyone stood there. No one knew what to say.

“How?” Swick asked.

Everyone looked at Jarryd.

(Are you enjoying Jarryd's tale? Would you like to read his adventures before this, when he fought the Dragon Queen? Just click here to check it out!)