Midnight End

15

He chuckled to himself. “My memories from those later months are still hazy. I was pretty far gone by then, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget seeing Merlin walk into the compound—not that I knew who he was at the time. As you know, Red Caps rarely live together for long before they start killing one another, but this group of fifteen had been banded together for years. Their encampment consisted of a couple shanty structures in a cluster of trees deep in the woods. I was kept in a deep pit in the ground, but on that day, I was still above ground after my most recent … entertainment session. From where I laid shackled to a tree, I watched as an elderly man, cloaked in a long grey tunic, hobbled into the camp. He leaned heavily on a walking stick and wore a large, floppy hat, shielding his eyes—for all the world, he was an unassuming mouse wandering into the fox’s den. Had I not been half mad, it would have been rather comical. My captors crept around to surround the man as he gazed about with feigned blindness.” Knight continued to tell the story, lost in his memories. “Hello? Is someone there?” the man asked feebly. The leader of the group snickered to his brethren. “You’re a long way from home, old man,” he called out in a grating, nasally voice. “Ah, yes. Excuse my intrusion.” He bowed respectfully. “I noticed you happened to have a fine beast there in the shade. I was hoping you might be able to part with him for the sake of this old man. I have a great deal of trouble with my eyes lately and could use a helpful companion.” “I’m afraid the mutt is worthless and would be of no help to you,” the leader responded. “I have a way with animals, and he seems to need some medical attention. Perhaps there is something I might offer in the way of trade?” For a moment, the Red Caps considered his offer, glancing at one another coolly. “I’m afraid the beast is too valuable to trade, but that is a fine cap you wear. It would look lovely in red…” The clan of Red Caps lunged as one, descending on the old man with vicious ferocity. Unfazed, the man held his ground. When the creatures were only a few feet away, they each slammed into an invisible barrier that surrounded the man. All of them went crashing to the ground at his feet. His rounded back straightened, and he continued to rise, seeming to almost double in size. He towered over the Red Caps who scuttled backward in fear. “Braeback Longclaw,” the man bellowed in a voice that echoed with power as an unnatural wind swirled around him. “You will release the beast unto me.” The leader scrambled to his feet and looked around frantically as if debating what he might do to fend off the sorcerer. “NOW!” roared the man with so much force, the ground beneath us shook. The leader hurried over to where I lay cowering. Grumbling under his breath, he unclasped my chain from the tree. By that time, I was conditioned to obey, so I scurried behind him as quickly as my broken body would allow. The Red Cap thrust my iron leash at the sorcerer with a trembling hand. Not once in all my time with the clan had I ever seen one of them show signs of weakness. The open display of fear stirred to life a terror in me I had thought long dead. The intense fear I’d lived with early in my captivity had waned to a vacant numbness. I didn’t need to fear pain—it was a guarantee. Pain was just a part of life—there was comfort in that certainty. Now, I was being surrendered to an unknown master. Would he be worse than the Red Caps? I hadn’t imagined my life could get worse, but what did I know? Maybe the devil I knew was better than the devil I didn’t. As soon as the ancient man gripped my chain, he began to wave his walking stick in circles as if he were stirring a giant cauldron. He murmured a series of words, and the winds whipped up to spiral in a violent storm before us. Each of the Red Caps was lifted up into the tempestuous vortex, screaming and pleading for their lives. With a flick of his wrist, the man commanded the storm to fling its swirling debris far off into the sky. The moment the Red Caps were gone, the winds settled, then dissipated as if nothing had ever happened. The man was enormously powerful. Dread for what I was about to face settled in my bones. When the man gazed down at me, eyes still glowing, my muscles coiled in preparation to fight for my life. I had been conditioned not to fight the Red Caps, but this enemy was new. My survival instincts made a resurgence. All I had experienced was brutality and hatred, so I had no reason to think this man was any different. He reached down his hand, and that’s when I bit him. “You bit Merlin?” I asked in stunned amazement. He paused his progress clearing a path and glanced back at me, humor dancing in his eyes. “Thank the gods, he doesn’t hold a grudge.” I coughed out a chuckle. “What I wouldn’t have given to bite Merlin a time or two in the past.” “I get that losing your mother was rough, but has life seriously been that bad?” Knight appraised me with questioning eyes. He lowered himself to sit with his back to a large tree, clearly deciding it was time for a break. I considered my answer as I sat down across from him. It wasn’t something I practiced putting into words; in fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d discussed my life with anyone. There was no one close to me to require a practiced explanation. “I don’t believe my life has been bad, although the early years got off to a rocky start.” “Then why so much hatred?” His head c****d to the side. Despite his assignment as my jailor, he seemed to have a genuine desire to understand my motivations. There was no way I was going to explain myself fully. However, a part of me appreciated his interest and deemed him worthy of at least a partial explanation. “Regardless of what everyone may think, my every thought is not ruled by hatred. I am highly motivated, and there is something I want. I also happen to be one of the few people who is willing to take the difficult stance of acknowledging the evil in this world and fighting against it.” He picked up a fallen leaf and traced the edges between his thumb and finger—all the way around one curved edge before slowly gliding back up the other. My s*x-deprived brain envisioned those long fingers skating across my skin in a similar fashion, and it made me lightheaded.