hoarse voice asked.
âYou see, the great General Gaskell . . .â the voice began, going on to disclose the bizarre three-for-one exchange and the names of all those involved. âWell, I have my own reasons for taking the girl. Itâs my intent that the two of us flee together. Before I went, I thought I might take your life, but that wonât be so easy after all. Thanks to that sword, I canât attack you from behind.â
At Dâs feet, something suddenly rose like a fog, covering him all the way up to his head. Light flowed outâa gleam that shouldnât have been visible in the pitch-dark night. Two streaks of light cut through the fog, and then sank into the figure in black that leapt from it just after that. The fog vanished, and the sword was in Dâs hand.
Somewhere in the darkness, a voice reminiscent of a cry of pain was heard to say, âNot even my surprise attack works on you? Thereâs more than just this in the Dark Oneâs book of tricks, but Iâm finished with you here and now. Iâll thank you to pray for my happiness with the little lady.â
The voice dwindled in the distance, disappearing before long.
D turned his gaze to the blade in his right hand. In an unusual turn of events, there was still blood on it. One swipe threw the gore to the ground at his feet. The instant it struck the earth, it spread and vanished in no time. Apparently, it was the shadowâs blood.
âLord Rocambole, of all people?â groaned a voice that wasnât Dâs, from near the Hunterâs hip. âThereâs a fiend to make any Noble regret being born a member of the Nobilityâa born mass murderer. Rumor has it heâs the crazy bastard son of the Sacred Ancestor. And they called in someone like that ?â
Catching its breath, Dâs left hand continued, âThings are gonna get a whole lot more complicated. This trip has been the worst.â
â
The treatment continued until early the next afternoon, and the transporters were left with only eight villagers who looked like they would pull through.
âGiven four or five daysâ rest, you should make a full recovery.â
Everyone nodded at Jukeâs words.
âWhat should we do next?â one of the older villagers asked, and utter silence descended.
The village was completely cut off. No matter how the transporters might assert that the villagers had been cured of the plague, there was no way theyâd be believed. Those blockaders intended to see the entire village of Hardue eradicated.
âSo if they go out looking for help, theyâll just get gunned down?â Juke mused, folding his arms. âIn that case, thereâs only one thing we can do. Eh, boys?â
Gordo and Sergei both nodded.
Turning to the villagers, whoâd stiffened into lumps, he said, âRelax. Weâll bring you someplace safe soon enough. Are all of you ready to leave this village behind and make a new life?â
They all looked at one another. The five men and women past middle age looked anxious, but the three children had a sparkle in their eyes as one of them said, âSure!â
Juke and D stepped outside.
âWeâve finally managed to save them,â Juke said, sounding quite emotional.
âItâs because they could see the future,â D told him.
âAinât that the truth. Children are the strength of tomorrow. Iâm just trying to give them a hand.â
âGet them in the wagon,â D said unexpectedly. âI smell oil. Gasoline.â
âWhat?â Juke exclaimed. As he crinkled his brow, he turned his gaze in the same direction as Dâs.
In the distance stood the palisade that surrounded the village, and from beyond it flew a rapid succession of arrows. Streaks of white trailed after themâflaming arrows. The instant they sank into the ground or roofs, flames spread for dozens of feet in all directions. Arrows
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