XXI - The Barren Streets of Fenwick

  Sir Godwin understood death. He had seen more than his fair share of it: death that he had mourned, and death that he had celebrated; death that he had avenged, and even death that he had inflicted; but none of it compared to the death that seemed to have taken hold of Fenwick. It had somehow crept into his village unnoticed until it was too late, and now it was impossible to dispose of. It was unlike any death that he had ever seen before. Nothing in his decades beneath the weight of his sword could have prepared him for the carnage that he now witnessed all too often.

  The carnage that was his charge to prevent.

  He looked down at the two mangled corpses, both of them hardly recognizable as human. They had both relied upon him to keep them safe, and he had failed them, just as he had failed the others.

  He couldn’t allow those failures to continue.

  “Sir Godwin.”

  The familiar voice ripped him from his thoughts. He turned to see his young second-in-command walking down the alleyway towards him, sidestepping the handful of milling guards as she went. She wore a slender, elegant sword at her hip and kept her head of shoulder-length blonde hair pulled back tightly against her scalp.

  “Lucia,” he said matter-of-factly, in the same way that he had so many times already in the short while since her promotion. “What has your investigation turned up? Have you discovered anything?”

  Lucia nodded. “Tracks that appear to be canine in nature were left in the snow in the adjacent alleyway.”

  Godwin began to walk up the alley, back toward the main streets of Fenwick. Lucia squared up next to him.

  “Canine,” he said. “Same as the others. What sort of creature could be responsible for such attacks?”

  “We are still no closer to finding an answer to that question,” Lucia said. “Most all dogs in the village have been accounted for, and none of them even come close to the size of the creature that is perpetrating these attacks.”

  “Certainly those dogs are the only possible culprits that live within Fenwick,” Godwin said. “Where else could it be coming from, if it is not already in the village?”

  “Could a wolf be entering Fenwick by night and escaping to the swamp behind the village before dawn?”

  Godwin shook his head. “There is only one way in and out of Fenwick, and I need not remind you of how well-monitored it is. It would be simply impossible for a wolf or other such creature to enter our village by night without our knowledge. I suppose a weak point in the stockade could allow entry for some wild animal, but any opening in the wall large enough to fit an imposing canine like the one responsible for these killings would certainly be noticeable to anybody with a half-functioning pair of eyes. ”

  Lucia considered his words. “Could this all be the depravity of a murderer intent on disguising their slayings as a series of animal attacks?”

  “If that is the case,” he said, “then our murderer is doing a damn fine job of making them look convincing.”

  Their conversation lulled as they stepped out onto Fenwick’s main street. Godwin quickly noticed Avice’s apprentice Finnian walking along the street with a girl that looked close to him in age. After a moment of watching them, the knight was able to determine the girl’s identity.

  He pointed her out to Lucia. “I believe that is the lass who came into town with that charlatan Vlad Albescu.”

  “And from the looks of it,” Lucia said, “she and Avice’s boy are heading in the direction of The Dusty Pumpkin. The only discernable reason for two youths to be going to such a place on their own would be to inquire about lodging. It would appear that this charlatan of yours may be planning to stay in town for some time.”

  Godwin sighed. “Wonderful. Precisely what I need.” He watched as they disappeared down the street on which The Dusty Pumpkin lived, confirming Lucia suspicions. “Another thorn for the bramble that continues to grow in my side.”

  ___

  Fenwick was like a village of ghosts. What normally would have been a lively late-morning hour was quiet and calm. Hardly anybody dared to step outside after the discovery of the two corpses, even in the daylight; most folk would likely remain shut in for at least the next day or so as the buzz surrounding the recent attacks died down. Sybil and Finnian barely saw any villagers save for the occasional stone-faced guard. It felt as if they were walking through the dead of night, or otherwise in a town completely gutted by an especially terrible bout of Plague.

  The eerie hush that surrounded them was not helped by the fact that Sybil’s companion was far from what one would call a conversationalist. She had always been more reserved herself, but Finnian looked as if the very act of being out in public around others made him so uncomfortable that he might have passed out right there on the spot, leaving Sybil to carry him the rest of the way to the tavern that she did not know the location of. Their two reserved personalities combined with the stillness of the surrounding village filled Sybil with a growing sense of dread. No longer able to stand the silence, she forced herself to step out of her shell and make conversation with her companion, if only so that her own voice could break through that oppressive veil of quiet.

  She looked at him and offered the most reassuring smile that she could muster. “So,” she said, “how long have you been training with Madam Avice?”

  Finnian glanced at her and frowned, seemingly surprised by the question. At first Sybil did not think that she would receive a response, but after taking a moment to steel himself, he spoke. “Coming up on a year soon.” He paused. “How long have you been with Mr. Albescu?”

  “A little more than a month,” she said, “but it feels as though it has been so much longer. It’s almost frightening how quickly time has gone by.”

  Finnian nodded. “I can understand that. Sometimes it feels as though I’ve been studying under Madam Avice for half my life, although I often worry that I am not learning things as quickly as I should be. Madam Avice is quite patient with me, though. Her confidence in me encourages me to continue on even when I feel that I will never succeed as a blacksmith. I sometimes wonder if this is even the correct path for me.”

  Sybil’s head perked up a bit; this detail interested her. “What would you rather be doing if not training under Madam Avice?”

  Finnian flushed. She was again not sure if he was going to respond. “Well, this is slightly embarrassing to say, especially to somebody I only just met, but… but I think I would like to become a monster hunter.”

  “Really?” Sybil tried her best to hide her surprise. “I… cannot say that is what I would have expected.”

  “I know,” he said. “One does not look at me and immediately think “monster hunter”, but it is what I’d like to become nonetheless. My parents were both monster hunters, you see. There didn’t exist a beast that they could not defeat—that is, until the day when they… when they didn’t return from a hunt.”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  She frowned. “I’m so sorry, Finnian.”

  “That was when Madam Avice took me under her wing,” he explained. “She knew my parents, and had always supplied them with fresh equipment for their hunts. It has been difficult without them—very difficult without them—but having Madam Avice here has made a world of difference. She took me on as her apprentice and gave me a purpose in my darkest hour. I owe her everything.” He paused. “But I wish she would teach me how to be more than just a smith. I know she used to slay monsters like Mr. Albescu and my parents, but every time I ask her to teach me her ways, she says she has given up that life, and would not want to place the burden of it onto me.”

  “Madam Avice does not want you to suffer the same fate as your parents,” Sybil said. “She is just trying to protect you.”

  “I know,” Finnian said, “but that should be my decision to make. I will be a man myself before long, and I deserve to know how to fight like one.” He smiled sadly at her. “In a way I am jealous of you. You get to travel all around with Mr. Albescu learning how to slay monsters, just like how my parents did.”

  “It is not as glamorous as it may sound,” she said. “My parents were also taken from me, which is how I came under Mr. Albescu’s care.”

  This time it was Finnian’s turn to frown. “I’m sorry, Sybil. I didn’t realize.”

  “They were slain by a vampyre that Mr. Albescu has pursued for some time,” Sybil explained, her gaze growing distant. “He calls the thing Three-Fang. We are searching for the fiend together, but presently our trail has gone cold.”

  “I am sure you will find the abomination one day,” he said, “and when you do, your revenge will taste sweeter than anything you’ve ever tasted in your life. Unfortunately I will never know such a joy. I do not know the identity of the beast that took my parents’ lives, and under Madam Avice’s tutelage, I fear that I never will. But I dream of the day that I can plunge a sword into that vile creature’s heart.” He paused, his mind seeming to go elsewhere as he stared off into the space ahead of them. “Alas, I fear that such a dream is destined to fade into day.”

  Sybil suddenly felt a heavy pit settle into her stomach. She thought over his words for a few long moments before finally speaking again. “Maybe it doesn’t have to. Perhaps… Perhaps you could come with us.”

  Finnian perked up; he looked at Sybil again. “Come with you where?”

  “To wherever we go after Fenwick,” she said. “I can talk to Mr. Albescu and try to convince him to bring you along with us as his second apprentice.”

  “Do you think he would take me on?”

  “I’m not sure,” she admitted, “but there is certainly no harm in asking.”

  He nodded. “I suppose there is not.”

  “I cannot guarantee that you will find the creature that slew your parents,” she said, “but at the very least you could honor their sacrifice by following in their footsteps.”

  “That would mean the world to me,” he said, “only I fear how Madam Avice would take such news. And besides, I could hardly betray her after all that she has done for me.”

  “To pursue your own life is not to betray her,” she said. “You cannot let your loyalty to her keep you trapped in a life that you do not wish to live. It will be a difficult conversation to have, but a necessary one.”

  “I suppose you are right,” he said hesitantly. “If you believe it is for the best, then I shall do it.”

  “You need to believe it is for the best as well.”

  “And I do,” he said. “I will talk to her tonight, and tell her what I want to do with my life.”

  “Wonderful!” Sybil smiled at him. “This could be the start of something amazing, Finnian.”

  “Finn.” He smiled back at her. “My… My parents called me Finn— Finny, when I was younger, but I’ve outgrown that, so Finn will do.”

  “Alright, Finn,” she said. “I’m looking forward to seeing what your future—what both of our futures—have in store.”

  ___

  Vlad walked along those same largely deserted streets, following after his apprentice. He remembered the way to The Dusty Pumpkin well enough; it had been several years since he had last visited the tavern, but his memory of the route there from Avice’s forge was forever burned into his mind. He had done this same thing many times before. He could not count the number of times over the years that he had stopped at her shop in order to resupply himself or have his items repaired before securing lodging at the tavern. It was hard to believe that he would soon never complete this same walk again, if what Avice had said was to be believed. He wasn’t certain that she had meant her earlier words, but something about how she had said them told Vlad that she meant to stick to her decision.

  The Fenwick streets were more barren than he had ever seen them before. In years past, he could have seen a dozen or more familiar faces on his way from Avice’s forge to the tavern, but on this particular journey, he hardly saw another living soul. He soon heard the consistent sound of a hammer striking nails, and passed by a house where he saw a man hard at work boarding up all of his windows. The man stopped briefly to take a sip of water from a bucket resting at his feet, then turned to look at Vlad. The Plague doctor offered the man a friendly smile as he passed, but the man ignored him and quickly returned to his work. Soon the man vanished from Vlad’s field of view, but the sound of his hammering persisted long after the Plague doctor had left the house behind.

  The only people that Vlad saw with any regularity were guards—and even then, they were noticeably scarce. They milled about in groups of two, all of them nervously holding muskets with their barrels trained on the ground, or their gloved hands gripped tightly around the shafts of halberds and spears. Much like how he had never seen the village streets so empty, Vlad had also never seen the Fenwick guard so on edge; the sleepy, quiet, Plague-free village that they patrolled had suddenly transformed into a pit of death and danger in such a short period of time. He very much doubted that any of them—or any of the villagers at all, for that matter—would be able to ease back into their old lives until the beast that terrorized them was finally stopped.

  If it was ever stopped.

  “Vlad Albescu.”

  Vlad, happy to be distracted from his rampant thoughts, turned in the direction of the sudden voice. He watched as Sir Godwin and a slender blonde woman who he did not recognize approached him from an adjoining alleyway. Suddenly he wished to return to those earlier thoughts.

  “Sir Godwin,” he said, forcing a smile, “I did not expect to see you again so soon.” He turned to acknowledge the knight’s companion. “And I do not believe we’ve met, Miss…”

  The woman did not respond, and Godwin continued in her place. “We just saw that apprentice of yours on her way to the tavern. I hope that does not mean what I believe it to.”

  “I am afraid it does, Captain,” Vlad said. “I had intended to keep our time in Fenwick short, but unforeseen circumstances have forced us to take up lodging here for a number of days.”

  “Aye,” Godwin said, “and I am certain these ‘unforeseen circumstances’ will lead to you sticking that beak of yours where it does not belong. A nasty habit that I am sure you have not yet broken.”

  “Worry not,” Vlad said, “I have no intention of involving myself in your investigation. I will gladly leave such affairs to you and your men. My business in Fenwick is purely with Avice, and shall remain as such until Night Owl and I depart.”

  “Let us hope so. Because I shall tolerate no interlopers, and I shan’t hesitate to arrest you for any meddling that you find yourself unable to resist partaking in. Do not forget that I still owe you for your little escapade from your last visit to Fenwick.”

  Vlad frowned. “I see that no water rests beneath our bridge. Well, rest assured that I intend for no such incidents to occur during this visit. You have my word, or else the Goddess may strike me down where I stand.”

  “See to it that your word remains honored, Plague doctor. The Goddess is rather keen on paying Her debts through my office…” The knight squared up next to Vlad while facing the opposite direction. Being so close to him reminded the more diminutive man of how much taller the guard captain truly was. “... and I am rather keen on letting Her.”

  Godwin began to walk in the direction that Vlad had just come from, toward the man out of sight who was certainly still hard at work boarding up his home’s windows. The knight’s companion offered Vlad a quick, suspicious look, then followed after her superior.

  Vlad sighed when they were gone, and continued on his way toward the tavern. “Certainly not as keen as I am to be through with our pleasant conversation.”