The Pain-Eater, Part One
Welcome to my short-run serial, The Pain-Eater! Click here for the Navigation Page.
When Jak Haroldson receives a letter from his former mentor, it bears both bad news and a plea for help. It’s not long before Jak is caught up in a mystery that takes him from gambling dens to auction houses, and, ultimately, to the one place he doesn’t want to go: home.
Part Two »
Jak raced down an alley, screams chasing at his heels and his heart pounding—
THUMP. THUMP.
He turned and dove behind a building, his knees hitting the stone flagging hard.
THUMP. THUMP.
The sound was not in his chest but shivering along the air, counterpoint to the wails. The cries for help.
THUMP. THUMP.
Footsteps crunched up the alley toward his hiding place. Jak scrabbled to hide behind a barrel. He couldn’t let the witches find—
THUMP.
Jak jerked awake, his breath catching in his throat.
He lay there for a moment, listening to his heart race as his body adjusted to reality.
Weak morning light filtered through a small window, dust motes dancing in the beams that broke up the darkness of the cramped bedroom. His armor, freshly cleaned, sat in a pile in one corner, the edge of his coat of plates catching the light. His packs and yesterday’s clothes made a messy pile beside it.
Someone thumped on the door again.
Biting back a curse, he climbed out of bed and took the two steps to the door.
He cracked it open and glared down at a boy fidgeting with a thick square of paper.
It took a beat for Jak to recognize him as one of the inn’s stableboys. Jak remembered how the boy spoke sweetly to Gilbert, Jak’s horse, as he took the bay away to be stabled.
Jak forced himself to soften his expression. “Yes?”
“Message came this morn, sir,” he said.
“I’m not a knight.”
“Oh. Then. Master?”
Jak stuck his hand out. The boy shoved the missive into his hand and then looked up at him hopefully.
Jak sighed. “One moment.”
When he appeared in the doorway again, the boy’s expression brightened. He eagerly reached out.
Jak pressed the money into his palm. “Are they still servin’ food downstairs?”
The boy shoved the coins into his pocket. “Jus’ hard bread and stewed greens.” A smile touched his face. “But, mayhap I coul’ scare up some bacon. Bring a plate up to you with a small ale.”
“For a price?”
He nodded, his grin widening.
Jak snorted softly. “I got more coppers for you if you do.”
The kid bolted off.
Jak closed the door and tossed the missive onto the bed.
He fetched his dwindling cake of soap from his pack. It smelled faintly of lye and rosemary as he lathered it in the cold water remaining in the pitcher. By the time he finished washing his face and under his arms in the basin, he felt more awake, as if the ritual chased off the last shadows of his nightmare.
Jak grabbed his clothes from the floor and gave them a sniff. They smelled like sweat and his horse. He decided they could go another day or two before he switched to his spare set. He yanked them on.
He was carefully scrubbing his teeth with a cloth when he heard a low thud at the door, as if someone kicked the bottom.
Just as he promised, the stableboy stood there with a wooden trencher of hard bread and stewed greens, topped with two thick slices of bacon. In his other hand, he held a tankard.
Jak tossed the cloth into the basin before taking the food and drink. “I’ll be right back.”
He set his food on the rickety table beside the water pitcher and basin. From his money pouch, he scrounged up another two coppers. The boy’s eyes lit up as Jak handed them over.
“Thank you, master! Just let me know if ye need anything else!” The boy scurried off.
Jak chuckled. He closed the door and eyed the missive, the humor draining away.
Letters that managed to find him while on the road could not be good letters. As much as he wanted to eat, he picked up the square of folded paper and examined the red seal. The sigil pressed into the wax looked like a dragon’s head on a pike. With a growing sense of dread, Jak broke the seal. An additional paper lock took him a moment to decipher.
Finally unfolding it, he recognized the spidery handwriting instantly. Ice formed in the pit of his gut.
Jak,
I am sorry to have to send this, but our Good Friend Barrett Steele has died. The Rites will have been completed by the time you receive this, if you receive it at all, but you are needed. Come to Castle Hartwell as soon as possible.
Your Friend,
Sir Stanley Braddock
Castle Hartwell
3rd Day of Meshber
Jak slowly folded the letter again, following the creased lines left by his former mentor. The letter had been sent a little over a month ago. He wondered how much coin Stanley had to lay down to keep it moving along the courier lines. There were a great many roads in the Three Kingdoms, and a great many inns, hostels, and wayside shrines open to guests.
He’d intended on savoring the bacon the stableboy probably stole from the innkeeper’s table. Instead, he ate quickly and greedily, gulping down the almost-sour small ale.
Within an hour, he stood downstairs in the courtyard, with his bags, including the one containing his precious armor, at his feet. The ever-helpful stableboy brought out Gilbert and his pack mule, Stubborn Ass.
“Can I help load ‘em up?” the boy asked.
“Greedy for more coins?”
The boy shrugged, his grin unrepentant.
It didn’t take long to load up Gilbert and Stubborn. Jak glanced at the clear sky. A good day for riding.
“I heard you’re a monster hunter,” his helper said.
“I am.” Jak tested the saddle’s girth.
“D’ye need an apprentice?”
Jak looked at the boy, at how young and alive he was. “What’s your name, son?”
“Mathew.”
“Stick to horses, Mathew. You’ll live longer.” He swung up into the saddle. He pulled another copper from his pouch. “I need to head on before you bleed me dry.” He tossed the coin to Mathew.
He caught it with a grin. “Will ye come back?”
Beyond the inn’s open gates ran the Lesser Merchant Road connecting Lanstown to Harker City. Jak frequented this route often, though he hadn’t stayed at this particular inn before. With any luck, he would certainly be back.
Jak’s mind returned to the missive burning a hole in his pocket. Hadn’t he and Barrett been the same age, been monster hunters the same length of time?
“I don’t know,” Jak said. “It would be good not to wait for me.”
With Stubborn Ass in tow, he trotted out of the courtyard and turned right, heading south.
The fine weather lasted for a week, and then the heavens opened, turning the dry roads into a sloppy mess. The two-week trip stretched into three when a washout forced Jak to cut through woods and fields, much to the anger of one tenant farmer. The argument ended, though, when Jak simply rode away faster than the man could run while yelling.
A hot sun hung overhead, the air thick and heavy, when Jak arrived at busy, crowded Hartwell. Its castle rose on a small hill in the near distance.
He negotiated around ox-drawn carts and people on foot, passing fruit and vegetable sellers. His ears rang with the sound of conversation, barkers, and cartwheels grinding against cobblestone. From one street came the astringent tang of a tannery, which mixed with the animal reek of ox and dung.
The bridge was down at the castle, a line of people waiting to get in. At the gate leading into the broad outer bailey, guards questioned those wishing to enter, briefly checking any bags or cargo. They did it, though, in a lazy and haphazard way.
Jak came next after a man delivering several bolts of cloth, whose inspection included a few inside jokes. On seeing the sword at Jak’s hip, however, the soldiers straightened up.
“No weapons allowed in the castle,” one of them said. He planted the end of his halberd against the ground.
“I’m here to see Sir Braddock,” Jak replied, careful to keep his hands on his saddle’s pommel.
“Audiences are every Nilday. And weapons still aren’t allowed.”
“That is all good to know, but I can’t wait until then, whenever it is.” He didn’t even know what day it was now. “I’m Jak Haroldson. He should be expecting me.”
The guards exchanged looks. The one who had spoken jerked his head back toward the castle. A soldier took off on a jog into the bailey. The remaining guards moved to stand directly in front of Jak, halberds at the ready.
Jak smiled at them. Behind him, the line of people waiting to enter on business grumbled. He could feel their ire riding the hot air.
After a while, the guard returned. He skidded to a halt, his face drenched with sweat. He sucked air into his lungs and said, “He can go on. Master Haroldson, ride on to the inner bailey and let one of the guards at the gatehouse there know you’ve arrived.”
“Your help is appreciated,” Jak replied.
Jak continued through the outer bailey, passing barns and livestock pens to the second gate.
Sure enough, the guards there knew what to do with him. In no time at all, a servant showed Jak into a small parlor. A weak breeze wafted through the open, narrow windows. Under the windows stood a table and a few chairs.
Tapestries depicting hunting scenes hung on the walls while bear skins covered the floor. Dried herbs to keep the vermin away crunched under Jak’s boots, sending up faint, floral scents.
He didn’t wait long before a servant entered, bearing a tray of wine, bread, and cheese. Hard on her heels strode a tall, broad-shouldered man with steel-gray hair and dressed in a fine, bright red tunic.
“Stanley!” cried Jak.
“Jak!” The knight engulfed Jak in a bear hug. “Ah, it’s been too long, lad.” He released him and clapped him hard on the shoulder. “You look good.”
“I’m merely happy to look alive.”
“Ha!” Stanley squeezed his shoulder and released him. “Times been that harrowing?”
“Well, I most recently had to fight a hag in a cornfield.”
“You’ll need to tell me of that. You can go on, Pearl. We’ll call if we need anything more.”
The servant, Pearl, curtsied and left. Stanley poured two glasses of wine from the pitcher. He handed Jak a glass.
“I came,” Jak said, “as soon as I received your letter. How did you know I would be going along Lesser Merchant Road?”
“I didn’t. I sent several letters along the different routes I know you like to take.” The happiness bled from his face. He regarded Jak with a hard look. “It’s a bad business, what happened to Barrett.” He lifted his glass. “To the repose of his soul.”
“Yes.” They tapped glasses and Jak took a sip. It was a fine wine, dry and fruity. “But I think you took a bit of liberty calling him ‘our good friend.’ I don’t think Barrett was anyone’s friend.”
“No. He was a right bastard at times.”
“What happened?”
Stanley heaved a sigh. “He was after a water-horse that had been taking children near a small village on my lands. I heard Barrett was nearby, so I sent for him. I figured he would do better work than a patrol of my men with no experience and only my instruction.”
Jak grimaced. “Tricky fiends, water-horses.”
Posing as perfectly normal horses, or even as a beautiful man or woman, they used trickery and their sticky skin to pull unsuspecting passersby down into the water to eat them. Or, more accurately, to eat their livers.
Stanley shrugged. “Well, obviously, I thought Barrett could handle it.”
“But why didn’t you ride out against it yourself? Remember the water-horse we took down at Innisford?”
Stanley’s gaze slid away. “My hunting days are over, Jak, you know that.”
“Hm.” Jak tapped the stem of his glass, feeling oddly like his friend was dancing around something. “Go on.”
“His apprentice told me the tale. Barrett had acquired a new weapon that was supposedly capable of killing magical fiends like the water-horse in a single blow. The Blade of Blessed Iron.”
Jak rolled his eyes. “You cannot be serious. That dagger is a myth.”
“Here, sit. I’m a bad host for keeping you standing.” Stanley pulled out a chair at the table and settled onto the velvet seat.
Jak sat beside him. “Are you really telling me that Barrett Steele, of all of us, found a weapon of myth and legend?”
“I know, I know. But he truly believed he had it. And, according to Barrett’s apprentice, it had worked before.”
Jak drank more wine, considering this. “So, what went wrong?”
“When Barrett attacked the water-horse, it was as if the Blade turned on him. It sliced him up badly before the fiend dragged him down. We found Barrett’s body the next day. Most of him, anyway.”
“Where’s the Blade now?”
“The apprentice—his name is Owen—took it and is refusing to hand it over. He thinks it’s his legacy left to him by his master.”
“He just saw it slice his master open.”
“Exactly.” Stanley sipped his wine. “We think there’s an enchantment on it. Owen has tried to leave three times. We’ve got him locked up in one of the barns.”
“Why haven’t you taken the Blade from him?”
“Because I’m afraid he’ll try to use it to defend himself, and he’ll end up like Barrett. We tricked him into the storeroom by telling him we had some supplies in there for him to take with him.”
“Have you had a cleric look at him?”
“I keep one around dedicated to the Star-Woman, but no number of sweet words has made Owen willing to listen to anyone. Your first order of business is to get the Blade from Owen and find out where Barrett got the damn thing.”
“Oh, and without getting cursed myself, of course.”
“Well…yes.” Stanley cracked a small smile.
Jak snorted. “Have you tried to talk to him?”
“Of course.” Stanley drew in a deep breath and let it go, his jaw clenching.
It took a beat for understanding to light up in Jak’s mind. “Barrett told him to not trust you, didn’t he?”
Stanley slapped a hand onto the table, making the wine in their cups jump. “You’d think he would have let that business in Halthoff go a long time ago. I won that card game fair and square, Jak.”
Jak laughed. “I know. I know. Barrett was always a sore loser. And he lost big. Do you still have the stallion?”
Stanley grinned. “He died after many years of siring some of the best warhorses this side of the Barley River.” His smile faded slightly. “But it’s a poor win if it means he tells his own apprentice to not listen to me.”
“But it begs the question: why did Barrett even come here, if he was still angry?”
“I suspect he needed the money. Owen said something about losing a big job or something, but I couldn’t get the details out of him.”
“I see.” Jak finished his glass, his mind turning over everything Stanley had told him.
“I’ve had your belongings put up in a guest room. Would you like my servants to prepare you a proper bath? I’m sure you’ve been on the road for a while.”
A real bath appealed greatly to Jak, but this mystery glittered in front of him, begging to be solved. He wouldn’t be able to settle without at least beginning to unravel it. And he had investigated enough strange deaths to see his next step clearly.
“I’d rather get started now by questioning Owen. Hold the bath for later.” Jak stood, then put his hands on his hips. There was still one thing that bothered him. “I have another question for you, though, Stanley.”
His friend stood. “Oh?”
“There had to have been others of our acquaintance who would have been easier to find than me. Why go through all the trouble?”
Stanley shook his head. “I did try to find others, Jak, but you’ve been the first to arrive.”
“But what about Cecil?” Jak asked. “He comes through this region every summer.”
“Taken by a hydra last fall.”
“Andrew the One-Eye?”
“Last year, he took a new apprentice and then went looking for trolls in the mountains. No one has heard from them since.”
“Peter MacGee?”
“Supposedly down the coast in Jintown, but he hasn’t answered my letters in a long time. And, Jak, before you list off more names, they’ve either not responded or I’ve heard the tale of their death. Or the rumor of it, anyway. We are a dying breed, my friend. When was the last time you came upon another monster hunter?”
A chill snaked down Jak’s spine, slithering into his gut to curl into a cold knot there. “It’s been a long time.”
Stanley drummed his fingers on the back of his chair, his lips in a thin, grim line. “Well. I’ll have one of my men show you where we’re keeping Owen.”
Jak shook himself, as if he could cast aside the sudden gloom in the room. He forced a smile. “Oh, is the mighty knight too good to come himself?”
Stanley snorted a laugh. “I have business with my steward. We’ll catch up tonight at supper.”
Part Two »
Dude, this is EPIC! 🙌🏻 Looking forward to the next installment!
Great opening! Looking forward to the next instalment!