-You are reading episodes of THE POWER IN THE DARK, which is Book 1 of THE
ANCIENT BLOODLINES TRILOGY by Barry Mathias. ISBN: 9781897435113
CHAPTER 5
John woke with a start, fearful and wide-eyed. It was early evening and the sun was starting to set in a pastel-coloured sky. Birds were singing and the hum of the insects was loud in his ears. The smell of horse sweat was all around him, and he felt an emptiness in his stomach.
He scrambled to his feet, aware of the ache in his arms. The dead horse was covered with buzzing flies and was still warm to the touch. Beyond, only ten paces away, lay the body of the stranger, the sword deep in his chest like a gravestone. His eyes were open, staring unseeing into the darkening sky. The cruel lips were parted, revealing stained teeth that were clenched together, giving the face an expression of agonized terror.
It was some minutes before John could drag his eyes from the awful corpse. Slowly, a feeling of fear and guilt began to overcome him, as he remembered the questions that had tormented him before he had collapsed, utterly exhausted. On his hand, the imprint on the palm was still as clear as before, but the power he had felt surging from his hand was now only a memory.
John moved cautiously to the edge of the circle, watching the sword, fearing its deadly force. Nothing happened as he placed first one foot, then the other over the circular mark on the ground. He released his breath loudly. The circle, like the sign on his hand, had lost its power and was just a dusty mark in the field. Whatever magic had been conjured up had vanished, and he was left with a dead man and a putrefying horse.
He stared at the sword. Should he take it and bury the body? If he removed the saddle and the rest of the horse's equipment, the animal would appear as if it had broken its neck in a gallop and had been left by its rider for the crows and wild creatures to pick clean. Perhaps he should just leave the body and return home? Old Mary would know what to do. But then there was the girl. Supposing she was still close by and was lying badly injured, unable to reach her home or call for help? If he pretended that nothing had happened, she might die. Then again, if she had somehow reached home, what story would she tell her family? When they found the body, they would know that he had been responsible for the man's death. It would be useless to try to explain what had really happened. Nobody would believe such a story when he could hardly believe it himself. He would be branded a murderer. However, the man had been trying to catch the girl and did attack her. But who was the girl? She could well be a thief or even a murderer herself. Yet even as he thought this he knew, in his heart, that it could not be so.
The thoughts pushed and pulled at him. He stood staring down at the sword and at the evil, twisted face of the dead man, and was unable to decide what to do. He remembered the runes on the sword and once more compared them with the image on his palm. They were the same. He came to a decision: he would remove the sword and take it back to the old woman. Darkness was falling, and with luck nobody would see the horse or the body until morning, by which time he would have been able to share the problem with her. She would know what to do.
He moved hesitantly towards the huge body and stared steadily at it. There was no doubt the man was dead, and had been so since the sword had transfixed him to the earth. John grasped the hilt of the sword with both hands and, closing his eyes tightly together, he pulled hard. It came away remarkably easily, but he dared not open his eyes until he had turned his back on the awful corpse. He felt he might be sick, and stood very still, breathing deeply.
Then he walked quickly away towards the path, and wiped the sword on a tuft of grass. The blood was thick and sticky and left a dark stain on the green blades, that were already a deeper colour in the thickening dusk.
