“I’ll tell you what I know, anything you want to know but please let me live!” said the scout. “L-Lord Baltus, he’s taken the throne and proclaimed himself ruler. There was a ceremony the morning the prince escaped. He said that the prince and his man, Idris had committed the foul deed then fled in shame.”

  “That’s a flimsy story.” Atticus said. “People believed this?”

  “That’s not all. The people were under some sort of spell, witchcraft, yes, definitely witchcraft!”

  “Our people would have no want for castles.” offered Siouxsie. “That doesn’t make any sense and no one of our tribe would have the kind of power to bewitch that many people. There must be some mistake.”

  “I-I swear it to be true!” the soldier said, trying to convince them. “I have seen it with my own eyes!”

  “You say the people were bewitched.” Said Hoxley. “How can you know?”

  “Everyone walks in a daze like their minds are not their own! Their eyes all have the same strange green glow about them!”

  “Green eyes, you say?” asked Morell. “Like the green lightning on Faustacon Mountain and the green storms the witches say possessed their people?”

  “The-the same!” said the soldier still trying to stop the blood flow on his face. “But that’s not the worst of it...”

  “It’s not?” asked Hoxley with surprise. “What can be more hideously abnormal than what you’ve just told us?”

  “The lich.” Replied the man. “An undead thing that follows King- er Lord Baltus.”

  “You’ve seen it with your own eyes?” asked Hoxley.

  “Yes! It’s a thing of nightmares! A corpse that moves, glaring with glowing green eyes in its empty skull sockets!”

  “You’re sure his is a dead thing that walks?” asked Atticus “Not just a masquerade of trickery and deception?”

  “Not a deception!” said the man. “It walked within an arm’s length of me before I left! Its’ aged grey bones were visible through its tattered rags of clothing and black cloak! There was no muscle or fat, only shreds of mummified flesh clinging to bones over clothes riddled with arrow holes! I’ve never seen the like! I-I haven’t slept soundly since it looked at me! Lord Baltus said we’d be given to it as servants if we failed to bring back the prince and his crown!” The man began to frantically weep. “Don’t let it get me! I don’t want to be in the service of the damned!”

  “Can all of this really be true?” Asked Siouxsie “Such a tale sounds of a bedtime story to keep misbehaving children in line.”

  “I kind of like it.” Mumbled Robert from his hammock

  “Quiet you.” She said “This is serious.”

  “All of it is true, every word, please believe me!” “It was that moment when a shadow passed overhead and the fluttering of a cloak heralded the arrival of their missing member. Ignatius circled lower on his broom and hopped off ten feet from the ground to land next to the soldier. It was more of an attempt to intimidate than to be flashy as he landed within a foot of the man as a shadowy bird of prey swoops low to collect its meal. The scout began to scream and thrash like a child scalded with boiling water. He scrambled away on his back until his head hit Atticus’ leg and could retreat no more. “Get away from me! get it away from me!” he shrieked as he bucked and kicked in terror. Ignatius shared a curious glance with the others before he stepped closer to advance on the man. So gripped with horror was he that he finally began to shake involuntarily, the front of his brown pants darkening at the crotch as he wet himself. Following this, he shook again and passed out to fall silent.

  “You didn’t have to scare him like that.” said Morell.

  “I had no idea I could create such a presence in the first place.” Replied Ignatius. “I shall have to remember that approach in the future.”

  “What do we do with him now?” asked Prince Damron

  “We have to keep moving.” Said Hoxley, looking to the south. “But moving with captives will slow us down.”

  “We’re not going to kill them, are we?” asked Siouxsie

  “No, I don’t think it will come to that. I have an idea that should suffice.” She said. With a little preparation, she managed something that the others could easily agree upon.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “That should do it.” Said Hoxley to the three men now that the last one had been roused from unconsciousness. “Don’t stop walking until you reach the castle, and your lives will be spared. Attempt to follow us and your lives will be forfeit. Forward!” The three soldiers walked into the distance, stripped of their clothes and weapons with blindfolds about their eyes and hands tied behind their backs. One bumped into a tree but continued on. It was awkward but it worked.

  “It’s good of you to show mercy, Hoxley.” said the Prince.

  “It’s the right thing to do.” She said with a smile. “A trail of corpses cannot speak of your good deeds, only your direst ones.”

  “That’s a profound thought.” said Prince Damron. “Wait a moment. Weren’t there four scouts?”

  “There were!” Atticus said with some surprise as he remembered. “Excuse me.” He said. “I’ll return in a moment.”

  “I’ll come with you.” Said Siouxsie. While the others waited, the soldier and the witch wandered far away, much further than Siouxsie thought they’d have to go. The grass was taller here in the grove and Atticus walked with his sword at the ready in case more enemies were lurking. She walked close by in his shadow, a dagger at hand as well. Her sharp eyes didn’t seem to detect anything out of the ordinary right away, so it wasn’t more than fifty paces before the question pushed past her lips. “What are we looking for?”

  “That.” he replied, pointing at a body curled up in a clearing. The two slowly approached the fallen scout impaled with Atticus’ spear squarely through the back and emerging out the front of his body. He was already pale and delirious with shock as his bloody hands futilely clung to the rod exiting his gut. Siouxsie lowered her ear to catch the distorted sounds coming from his mouth that almost sounded like a song.

  “Is he singing?” she asked. Curious, Atticus stooped low to hear.

  “Lullaby.” Atticus snorted. “Probably something sang to him when he was little. Men sometimes do that when they think the end is near. Either that or they call out for their mothers.”

  “If we leave him here will his own kind find him and give him aid?”

  “No, he’s done for.” Atticus said, pointing to the placement of the spear. “The spear has separated his back at the spine. If it was only the gut, he’d have half a chance. But with the spine severed he’d live as a cripple, if he lived, which isn’t likely. Better to cut his throat and give him a clean death.”

  “We can’t just leave him as he is?”

  “I want my spear back and pulling it out will shred everything inside and ensure his demise. If we leave him, he could very well lay here and be missed by others looking for him or they may decide to leave him here as well. Either way, if he’s still bleeding and breathing after nightfall the woodland beasts will get him.” He looked down that the witch whose eyes had become as big as dinner plates. “He will still be alive when they eat him.”

  “I don’t want that for him.” she said somberly.

  “That’s because you’re not an animal.” With that, Atticus reached low, grabbed the spear and then firmly placed his boot against the shoulder blade of the scout before pulling it free as one does an animal on a spit. Fresh gore stained the staff and tip as he leaned it against a tree.

  “Say a prayer for him if you like, but look away now.”

  Siouxsie turned away, clamping her hands over her ears. Her palms blocked most of the noise but not the “Hurp!” sound Atticus made as he lunged to drive his sword deep. She didn’t dare look again but instead waited until he’d replaced his sword and gathered his spear before she started walking back toward her friends. Atticus lumbered less like the others in the group and more like the older man he was.

  “Soft rabbits.” She said to him.

  “What about them?”

  “That was the prayer I offered. Soft rabbits for him to pet in the afterlife.”

  “That’s a fine and generous offering for a stranger.” Atticus reflected. “We all should be so lucky. Come along, witch girl.” He said, picking up his pace to a trot. “It’s best that we do not linger here in case more foes are about.” They soon arrived where the others had gathered. Hoxley made the call to continue south.