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Chapter 76: An Erasure of History
The empty backstreets of the Capital offered few witnesses and little cover as Declan made his way carefully towards the Knight’s Garrison. The half-witch had removed most of the gaudy scarlet armor that couldn’t be hidden behind an enlarged frock that covered him from neck to mid-calf.
Declan grimaced at his appearance in a curtained shop window. ‘I look like a thug canvasing for an easy cash grab.’
It wasn’t an altogether uncommon event, which explained the presence of a few Lafearian Knights patrolling the usually busy market streets. Thanks to his rather conspicuous getup, Declan had no problem hailing down a pair of knights, although the two men approached him with doubtful glares with one hand on their sheathed weapons.
“What’s your business, Stranger?” The younger of the two demanded gruffly as they stopped a few feet away.
“I was wondering if you happened to know where Knight Commander Quentin would be?” Declan replied as he pulled back his hood, hoping to appear less threatening.
“Even if we did, what’s it to you?” retorted the older knight, who studied Declan with apparent distrust.
The half-witch raised a questioning brow. “It’s important that I speak to him.”
“Well, if it’s that important, why don’t you try telling us,” suggested the younger knight with a similar expression of disbelief.
Declan held back a sigh. ‘Just my luck, it would be a pair of knights I haven’t dealt with before. They must have recruited more from the army in preparation for the Pope’s arrival.’ The half-witch quickly straightened to his full height, adopting the persona of an officer, as he reached inside the frock. “My name is Lieutenant Declan, and I need to speak with the Commander regarding a mission I was assigned to.”
“What’s this?” The younger knight snatched the only remaining scrap of Declan’s knight uniform that he had been able to hold onto and laughed. “Where the hell did you get this?”
“If you’ve come back from a mission for the Commander, then you can report back to the Garrison like everyone else,” the older knight countered with a suspicious scowl. “Ignore him, Luke. He’s probably another dropout trying to swindle the Commander for a free handout.”
“My mission is connected to the Pope and his Witch Hunters who are searching for me at present and likely watching the Garrison,” Declan explained with forced patience as he focused on the younger knight, hoping he’d be the more rational of the pair. “And the Commander wouldn’t be there on a day like today.”
“Well, you’d be right about that,” Luke muttered as he flipped the badge over. “The Commander is overseeing security around the cathedral. Seeing as you want to avoid the Pope and his hounds, that’s probably the last place you want to be.”
‘Unfortunately, yes. I was hoping that wouldn’t be the case.’
“What about Captain Sloane?” Declan asked quickly. A warning tingle along the hairs of his neck sent the half-witch’s olive-green eyes quickly towards a light post where a single black crow watched him silently.
“Captain Sloane?” Luke tilted his head and then nodded slowly. “He’s on duty at the Palace Gate today.”
“Here now,” the older knight interrupted as he snatched the badge from his comrade’s hands. “Whoever you are, I think you should come with us back to the Garrison.”
Declan let out a short breath and attempted to retain a neutral, relaxed expression. “And why’s that?”
“Because you’re suspicious,” the older knight growled. “And if you are who you say you are, then someone at the Garrison should be able to vouch for you.”
The half-witch stepped back with light dexterity as the older knight attempted to grab his arm. “Thank you, but no. I’ve done nothing to warrant being detained—”
“How about impersonating a knight and officer to start,” the older man growled as he held up the badge.
“I am a Lieutenant,” Declan growled. “If you must take me somewhere for identification purposes, then escort me to Captain Sloane at the Palace Gate. He is my direct superior.”
“Hey, maybe we should,” Luke suggested amicably. “Nothing is going on back here at the moment anyway.”
“Bullocks. Look at him,” the older knight replied dismissively. “What’s a knight and officer doing dressed like a mugger. And what’s with that armor and sword? Those aren’t garrison-issued. We were sent here to uphold the peace and detain any person we suspect may disrupt this holy day of prayer, and this fellow recks of trouble.”
“I’ve offered you an acceptable compromise,” Declan replied coldly as he raised his hands carefully away from his blade and backed away. “You can either work with me or accept the punishment for defying an officer and interfering with a royal order.”
“Oh, a royal order, is it?”
“Stop it, Harvey!” Luke quickly snatched back the badge and offered it towards Declan with an apologetic head bow. “If you come with us willingly, without any complaints or problems, then we’ll escort you to Captain Sloane for verification. Does that sound fair?”
“Perfectly,” Declan replied with a nod of gratitude.
“Good. Let’s get a move on then.”
***
On foot, the journey to the palace gate was a fair gaunt, which Declan knew to expect. However, his biggest concern appeared directly before them before they had even left the Capital market district.
Luke and Harvey both stopped in their tracks with expressions of confusion as four Witch Hunters descended from the rooftops above to block their way forward and back.
“Now, what’s this nonsense?!” Harvey barked, sounding just a little bit unsettled until the short Witch Hunter before them threw back her hood to reveal a young woman of barely twenty years. Declan had only seen her once or twice on the journey over from Zarus. The young Witch Hunter’s violet-blue eyes and short coper-golden curls were easy enough to recognize and remember, as was her name, Vanya.
“Greetings Lafearian,” Vanya declared with authority as she directed her glare at Declan. “I have been sent with the full authority of the Church to arrest this murderer. I ask that you turn him over at once to face the Pope’s justice.”
“Pardon me, but—” Luke held up a hand as she attempted to move closer, “—that man has identified himself as a Knight of Lafeara. We are taking him to the Palace Gate to confirm his identity. Please—step aside.”
Declan observed the young knight’s right hand, which gripped the hilt of his sheathed sword tightly.
“I’m afraid that’s not an option,” Vanya scoffed as she waved a hand towards Declan’s frock. “Take a look at what he’s hiding beneath that rag. This half-witch is—was—a Witch Hunter. He murdered his comrade and fellow Witch Hunter and therefore is under our jurisdiction.”
Luke blinked in surprise while Harvey quickly turned to grab a fistful of Declan’s cover. The frock ripped beneath the knight’s forceful pull, and Harvey flung it aside. Declan’s scarlet chest plate and black chainmail bodysuit glistened beneath the midday sun and matched Vanya’s and the other Witch Hunters’ uniform.
“Saint’s bloody mercy,” Harvey growled with a note of disbelief before resuming his usual scowl. “I knew you smelled fishy. Lieutenant my foot—”
“Wait!” Luck held up a hand with a troubled expression as he studied Declan. “That doesn’t explain why he has a Knight Lieutenants badge.”
“Someone who would stab their comrade in the back is probably not above killing a knight and looting their corpse,” Vanya replied tersely as she and the other Witch Hunters closed in around them. “Now—are you going to hand him over, or do we need to take him by force.”
Harvey’s expression darkened as he spun around towards the female Witch Hunter. “Are you threatening us, girlie?”
“Harvey!” Luke cautioned as he placed a hand on his comrade’s shoulder. “I’ve no wish to offend the Witch Hunter Order or his Eminence, but perhaps we can agree to a compromise. Let us take him to the palace gate first. If Captain Sloane can’t confirm his identity as a Knight Lieutenant, then you will be free to take him off our hands and do with him as you see fit.”
“No.”
Luke blinked at Vanya’s immediate reply. “No?”
“I’ll be taking the traitor prisoner now. Those are my orders,” the female Witch Hunter replied shortly.
“I understand, but we have a procedure to follow as well,” Luke replied reasonably. “If he is a Knight of Lafeara, we can’t just hand him over to a foreign power without proper authorization.”
“I just told you—and showed you—that he’s a Witch Hunter,” Vanya growled in disbelief.
“Seriously,” Harvey grumbled with a low growl. “Why are you risking our necks for this?”
“This man has given us reason to believe he’s a Knight Lieutenant,” Luke countered with a determined shake of his head. Harvey scoffed, but the younger knight ignored him as he continued. “So, to avoid unnecessary complication, I ask again that you accompany us to verify his identity, and we make a decision from there. There’s no need to cause a misunderstanding on such an auspicious day.”
‘As much as I appreciate his intention to do the right thing and protect a fellow knight, he’s just going to get himself killed.’ Declan let out a slow breath as he glanced between Luke and Vanya. He knew better than to expect the Witch Hunter’s to let this go willingly. ‘I won’t be breathing for very long if I go with them willingly either, given what I know.’
Using the enchanted ring the half-witch had been granted along with his uniform, Declan used a small current of wind to cut through the threads of rope that tied two glass spheres to his belt. He caught the smoke bombs in his hand, then exhaled slowly as he expanded his senses to locate the exact position of the Witch Hunter’s around them.
Feeling Vanya’s vengeful and suspicious gaze on him, Declan offered her an apologetic smile. “Leave them out of this. They don’t know a thing.”
Vanya’s violet-blue eyes narrowed quickly, but before she could call out a warning, Declan smashed two spheres of glass on the ground between his feet, then extended his hands to spread the billowing clouds of bluish-gray smoke throughout the street. Not wasting another second, the half-witch spun and sprinted towards the two Witch Hunter’s behind him just as the smoke rolled over them, obscuring his enemies from view.
Once again, the enchanted ring helped Declan hone his magic, allowing him to sense more than see his targets in the swirling smoke. Declan dodged the poisoned arrow that whistled dangerously above his head. He spun around as a Witch Hunter’s blade cut through the smoke briefly, then pulled his sword free in time to block a spinning metal disk that ricocheted to his left and vanished from view.
Relying on memory, magic, and his heightened sense of sound and detection, Declan located a parked cart leaning against the wall of a corner shop. He sprinted towards it the moment his path was clear, leapt lightly atop its wooden paneled floor, then jumped from the left wheel towards the signpost, which hung just below a second-floor window.
The sign sped past as a heavyweight slammed against Declan from behind. He fell through the adjoining shop window door, then crashed down onto a table of bed sheets and blankets that cushioned his fall before collapsing between him as glass rained down onto the closed shop’s floor.
Declan’s attacker rolled clear as the pile of sheets and blankets draped themselves over the half-witch’s head and shoulders. He flung the fabric away, threw one of the daggers attached to his belt at the figure in scarlet, and rolled to his feet to run.
Vanya deflected the dagger with her gloved fist and sped after him, her movement speed inhuman as she hurtled through the wind currents he used in an attempt to slow her down. Declan dodged a fist aimed towards his lower back and danced to the side as she pivoted and moved after him. Over the grim Witch Hunter’s shoulder, he caught a glimpse of the shop’s back door.
“Stop trying to run away, Traitor!” Vanya spat as she shifted quickly to block his exit. “There’s nowhere left for you to hide.”
“I’m not a traitor,” Declan growled, then backed away as she closed in on him, her fists striking dangerously close to his face and chest as she herded him towards the corner of the shop room. “I was never one of you.”
Vanya arched a brow and then scoffed. “Then I suppose I have no reason to feel even the slightest bit of guilt over your death.”
Declan knew he was in trouble the moment the gems on her gloves flashed purple. He tried to dodge but found his feet glued to the floor by an invisible force. With a stunned blink of disbelief, he watched Vanya’s fist connect with the scarlet chest plate he wore. The metal warped and collapsed inwards as the room spun. The sound of something breaking, perhaps the building, perhaps his body, filled Declan’s ears at light and shadow blurred into a spiral that left him sprawled against his side on the ground—back in the street where this had all started.
The still spinning sky and buildings slowed before falling into place. Harvey was running away at an odd gate, an arrow through his left thigh. Another arrow struck through his neck a moment later, and the knight collapsed forward into a disorganized heap of limbs and armor.
“What did Ripper say about showing control?” one of the male Witch Hunter’s snarked as Vanya stepped through what little remained of the shop wall. “You almost took me out with that last hit.”
“Don’t blame me if you’re too slow to dodge or too weak to take a hit,” the superhuman half-witch replied as her violet-blue eyes focused on Declan. “I told you there was nowhere left to run.”
“Let’s finish this and clean up,” another male Witch Hunter growled impatiently as he approached Declan with a bloodied war axe. “We’ve drawn too much attention already.”
“Ripper’s orders were for Vanya to finish him off,” replied the third Witch Hunter as he moved to block his comrade’s clear intentions.
Declan blinked painfully as his view of the market street around them flickered from dark to light. For a brief moment, the half-witch thought he saw his mother specter dancing before him, laughing over what appeared to be Luke’s decapitated body, but then she was gone.
Vanya closed in and pushed the disabled half-witch onto his back. Declan looked up at her, unable to do much else. He couldn’t tell if his spine was broken. He couldn’t feel much of anything at all. It was as if a heavy weight had descended upon him, and his body, lungs, and mind had been knocked completely senseless. Declan wasn’t exactly sure how he was even still conscious—not that that would matter for much longer.
The anger in Vanya’s eyes dissipated for a moment as she straddled his body, leaned forward, and then pulled back her glowing right fist. “I’ll make this quick.”
Declan blinked in reply as he stared back into her violet-blue eyes. He wondered if she knew, if they all knew, what the Pope had unleashed on Lafeara, and how their “Divine Heir” would use this Witch Plague to get what he wanted regardless of the cost.
The immeasurable weight upon his body suddenly lifted as an ear-splitting, high-pitched shriek filled the air and sucked out what little air remained inside his lungs. Vanya flinched. Her glowing right fist aimed at Declan’s face slid off course as a blast of wind knocked the Witch Hunter off of him.
Declan gasped as the ground beside his face erupted. He rolled to his left and curled into a ball, relying on the scarlet armor to protect him as the other three Witch Hunter’s stumbled towards him. A flock of crows descended from the sky to attack the scarlet grabbed mercenaries who were barely able to stay on their feet.
Wind, fire, arrows, rocks, and black feathers hurtled around him as the air filled with the unmistakable scent—of witches.