Rise of the Red Harbinger (3 page)

“I am not here to fight you,” the towering man whispered to him. “Stay calm. The last thing either of us needs is for attention to be drawn to us.”

The man wore a long dark cloak, similar to the one Baltaszar himself had donned, except that it had no hood. “Then why in the name of Orijin are you standing over my father’s body?” Baltaszar managed to keep his voice low, despite the anger that drove it.

“You speak of Orijin. Good. Then you know religion. I was simply checking to ensure there remained nothing of value on him; nothing that someone else could find that would lead to you or anything else.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“We have never met,” the man said. “But I have known of you for some time. Your father and I worked for the same people.”

“Your words are nonsense. My father has been a farmer his whole life. I’m warning you now, I have a weapon. I don’t know who you are, but if you leave now, I will not attack. I give you my word.” Don’t let him see your fear. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d gotten up and was standing and facing the other man.

“Boy, your threats mean nothing. If I wanted, I could kill you. Save your breath and your energy. Where you’re going, you’ll need it all.”

“Where I’m going?”

“I would assume, considering you have the Descendants’ Mark, you would be going to The House.”

“You’re not making any bloody sense.” Thought fragments pulled Baltaszar’s mind in every direction.

The man shook his head, “There is much you have to learn. Let us move behind the platform. We risk too much by talking out in the open.” Behind the burnt and blackened hangman’s platform, they sat beside each other, leaning against the wooden posts. “It seems you do not understand the significance of what is on your face,” the man said. “That line on your face represents an honor bestowed upon generations of Descendants.”

“It’s a damned scar from being burnt as a child. My house burned down and the fire killed my mother. It’s not some stupid line.”

“I imagine that’s what Joakwin told you. He lied. The only reason you live in Haedon is because he was trying to protect you. He assumed that if he tucked you away in the middle of the Never, he could raise you as a normal child and you would never question anything.”

“This doesn’t make any sense. What makes you think I believe anything you have to say? My father has just been hanged in front of my whole bloody village, and you think that I will believe you just because I found you here in the middle of the night? I’m not some little child who’s going to hang at your every word just because you’ve come with these bloody stories about my father.”

“Then let me tell you more. If I cannot manage to convince you with what I know, then you are a fool.”

“Look, I don’t know what you want here, but I’m not going to sit here and listen to you. I have to leave before they kill me as well. I only came to bring his body back with me. My only concern now is finding out why my father was falsely accused of black magic, and then getting some type of justice on those responsible for this.”

“Think about it, boy. That scar, as you call it, is a perfectly straight line down your face. How is it that you would only be burnt on that little piece of your face? Are you really that much of a fool?”

Baltaszar was losing his grasp on what to believe. “Fine, and supposing you’re right. I’m supposed to just believe you? If I hadn’t come back to get my father we would never have met, and you wouldn’t have been able to tell me anything. If I had stayed in hiding, what would you have done?”

“Trust me, Baltaszar Kontez, I would have found you.” Baltaszar’s eyes widened. “Yes, I know your name. You’d be surprised about how many people outside this forest actually do. I was given this mission because of my abilities to find people. I am the best tracker in the world. After searching your father's body I was coming to find you next.”

“Y…you could have just asked someone in the town. They would’ve told you my name along with my father’s and my…”

The man cut him off, “There’s a voice inside your head that does not seem like your own.”

“Wh…” How could he know this?

“You do not know when exactly it got there or how, but it speaks to you as if it knows you, like an old friend. It tells you the things you do not want to hear, but perhaps need to hear from time to time.”

Baltaszar now stared at him, his mouth agape. He had never mentioned that to anyone, not even his family.
He’s right; I don’t even know when it started talking to me. Was it tonight? But even then, it felt familiar, like I’d known it before.
“How…”

“Perhaps now you believe. In fact, there are people in this world who can actually help you with that, help you find the source, or even get rid of it for you, if you desire.” Baltaszar was hooked. There was no possible way that anyone could know about the voice in his head. Yet now, this man before him revealed knowledge of it and that there was a possible cure. “Baltaszar, I understand that Joakwin was executed on false accusations. Yet, his death was necessary, perhaps the only thing that could have set you free. This world is much larger than your little hidden town. There are people in this world you need to meet. People who can set your life in the right direction.”

“And what direction is that?”

“Did your father never teach you of the original Harbingers? The messengers of the Orijin?”

Baltaszar struggled to understand what connection any of this could have to God, but then, he barely had any idea about anything he’d been told during this conversation. “We learned of the Orijin as children, and my father instilled in us a devotion to Him throughout our lives. But he never spoke of any messengers.”

“Pity. Look above us, candles are being lit in the windows. I do not have the time to say everything on the matter of your father, your past, or the mark on your face. There are others in the world who can help you. If you really want answers about your father, you must go to the House of Darian. The Headmaster there is a man named Marlowe. If there is anyone in this world who knows about your father and your past, it is he. And if, after speaking to him, you still have doubts, there are others there who are quite capable of helping you. Now we must part ways.”

“That’s it? You have not finished explaining things to me! Why did you bloody come here if you would only give me half of a story and then leave?”

“I am a regular man. You are a Descendant. You have a manifestation, use it to help you. People on this side of Ashur will welcome you.”

“Every time you say something, you put more questions in my head. Manifestation? I am not asking. I am telling you. You have to stay here and explain. Or let me go with you.”

“My only priority was to find you and make sure you would find the House of Darian. Not to bring you with me. To come with me would mean almost sure suffering and death for you. Trust me. There is no time to argue any longer. You will have to begin your journey without me, but I trust you will have success. The mark on your face will grant you certain privileges once you leave this forest.” The statuesque man arose. “Your days as a witless farm boy are over, Baltaszar. Whatever you had planned for your life before meeting me, it cannot be. Our entire world will be at war soon; it is time you removed the veil from your eyes.”

“I hadn’t really planned anything. And now, I’m even less sure, as you’ve given me piss for a story, with barely much of an explanation. It seems my only choice is to leave this place; I will not be welcomed back.” More lights shone through the windows, and voices could be heard above.

“Travel southeast. The only name I can really give you is Marlowe, the Headmaster of the House of Darian, but most people will not recognize that name. Mention Darian or the House of Darian and people will guide you in the right direction, especially with the Descendants’ Mark on your face. Just over a day’s ride southeast of your camp in the forest is the city of Vandenar. Once you are out of the forest, it is about an hour’s ride. Make that your first stop. The people there are generally helpful and respectful toward those of you who have the Mark. Use it to your advantage, but do not overstep your boundaries.”

“Help me pick up my father’s body; I need to bring him with me.”

“Leave him. If you remember anything of your father’s teachings, you know that his body is now just an empty shell. To carry the body would slow you down. To give it a proper burial would set you back at least a day. There is no time to waste. War and death threaten this world, Baltaszar. It is very important for you to reach that House. Promise me you will go there.”

Baltaszar shrugged and deeply exhaled, then nodded. “I will. My word is my bond.” He stood and clapped the mud from his hands. “What is your name?”

“Slade.”

“Slade. Thank you. I hope our paths cross again. You have much more to explain.”

“If you reach your destination you will not need my explanation. Good luck, Baltaszar.” With that, Slade walked toward the buildings surrounding the square and disappeared into an alley toward the north of Haedon. As more and more lights appeared through the windows surrounding the Square, Baltaszar ducked and scampered across it to the narrow roads leading back to the forest. Once again, he sprinted through the mud, sliding and slipping. Guilt poked at the back of his mind about leaving his father’s body behind, but he knew Slade was right.

Shortly, he returned to the camp he and Bo’az had set up. Bo’az was gone, but Baltaszar thought nothing of it. He was probably hunting. Finding the flint and some small branches, he started a small fire and sat down against a thick tree. It was only after he lit the fire that he realized the camp itself was completely dry. It must not have rained this far into the forest.

Baltaszar was exhausted, the night had felt eternal, but he was not ready to sleep. Too many thoughts traversed his mind for him to be at peace. He twisted his mouth and rubbed his beard as he contemplated; it had become a habit as of late. Since they’d begun to hide, he and Bo’az hadn’t shaved.

Thoughts of his father flooded his head first. Baltaszar knew how simple-minded the people of Haedon were, so it was only fitting that his father would be charged with practicing magic. Baltaszar never understood the vendetta toward his father. He had raised Baltaszar and Bo’az to be respectful, humble, and to stay out of trouble and out of other people’s business. The Haedonians’ contempt contradicted everything for which his father stood.

His father had never paid any attention to magic. Baltaszar couldn’t remember his father mentioning it even once in his life.

Fires were connected to the Kontez family for as long as he could remember. According to his father, when Baltaszar and Bo’az were small boys, a great fire had burned down their first home, killed Baltaszar’s mother, and left a black scar down the left side of Baltaszar’s face, a straight black vertical line running down his forehead, intersecting his left eye, and ending just below his cheek.

Bo’az had gotten through the fire unscathed. Baltaszar had always been curious as to why his eye had not been affected by the fire, and why the scar hadn’t felt any different than his unaffected skin. He’d never had the courage to ask his father about it, for fear that it might remind his father too much of his mother’s death. According to Slade though, none of it was true.

Baltaszar had felt scars before. And burns. But none had ever felt like the one on his face. The more he considered Slade’s words, the more they seemed to make sense.

Baltaszar wanted revenge. He wasn’t sure who had made the accusations against his father besides Fallar Bain. But Oran Von was the one who sentenced him. One day, when he was ready, ready to make another man suffer, Baltaszar would avenge his father’s death.

I needed to see all of that. It was the only way I’d be able to avenge his death. As much as the memory will haunt me, it’ll drive me to get back at them. I know it.

You will not do a thing and you know it. You will pretend for now that you are angry and vengeful, but you will get over it and then move on with your life. You and your little craven brother.

Shut up! Stay out of my head! I’m so tired of having to listen to you!

I am part of your mind, fool. But if you ever decide to be a man and avenge your father, I shall talk less.

Talk less now! The last thing I need is an argument with you.

Then stop arguing.

Please, I’m begging you. Let me be, at least for now. Until I can rest.

Very well. Expect my return.

The voice finally stopped. Still, questions littered Baltaszar’s mind. How did that fire start tonight? The fire started from the ground, and nobody was close enough to have started it, even Fallar Bain. I was near enough to the front of the crowd that I would have seen if anyone had thrown a torch. And how did it grow so wild in a downpour like that?

He needed answers. And nobody could give them to him any time soon. Worse yet, if Slade was right.
Who is…was…my father? Better yet, who was my mother?

Baltaszar knew he would need to leave the forest to find his answers. He wasn’t sure how long he would have to search or where this “House of Darian” was, but he would gain nothing by remaining in the forest. He and Bo’az hadn’t really discussed what they would do after their father’s death, but this seemed like the best course of action. Without his father or the farm, there was nothing in Haedon for Baltaszar and no reason to stay. His best friend had disappeared over two years ago without a word to anyone. And then there was her. Yasaman. He thought they would have eventually gotten married, but she’d shunned and avoided him since his father had been charged. Yasaman suddenly became busy all the time. She would pretend to sleep when Baltaszar snuck to her window in the middle of the night. She’d hardly spoken to him since his father’s confinement, but Baltaszar didn’t blame her. Her father didn’t know of their relationship and she was deathly afraid of telling him, given the status of Baltaszar’s father in Haedon. She told him as much. And that as long as her father was around, they couldn’t have a real future.