Chapter 14: CH15: John

A messenger handed him a signed bank note for the harvest, gelding, and 8 wolf carcasses. It was a tidy sum, and more importantly, behind it was a small accounting of items the town was willing to sell him to pay off the debt from the harvest. 13 crowns, 16 shillings, and 8 pence was quite the hall for a wagon full of assorted fruits and vegetables. The service of a furrier had already been deducted. Fortunately, a stallion was for sale among the prizes he could choose from, thanks to the mounted soldiers.

 

Silas took to the paperwork selecting what he needed first before selecting a powerful brute of a stallion named Hector. Spring would come shortly after plowing season, and Dotty would need to be bred. He had a few crowns left over from his purchases, more than enough to hire a schoolmaster for a few months. However, he needed to interview the man before hiring him and didn’t feel he had the time.

 

The door to John’s study opened, and smoke seeped out along with a sweaty William Penn. Quaker Oats had never looked worse, in Silas’s opinion.

 

“Thank thee for thy restraint in this situation.” William gave Silas a pitying look. “Mayhap god will defend thee from matters unworthy of a good Christian. But, be careful young Sirrah; these are dangerous times.”

 

Soifon chose that moment to walk through the wall, and Silas didn’t miss John’s eyes tracking her. When Silas met John’s eyes, he knew the man knew something. Silas only had to decide how much to reveal. If there was any consolation to the incident, Silas was sure there would be an end to the marriage proposals.

 

“Make haste Representatives Penn my patients, for thy disrespect for proper rituals, wears thin as the linin on a baron’s belly,” John said. “Dear cousin, come and have a smoke with me. There is much to discuss and a betrothal to plan.” John said, and Silas groaned.

 

It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested. On the contrary, John’s daughter was a young woman every eye was on. From street tuffs to the preacher’s son, the men of Low Delaware wanted her. Mary had hair golden like freshly spun straw and eyes of a bright emerald green fit on an angular face with a slightly pointy chin. Her cheekbones were high, with smile lines on her face. The girl’s full lips and the way she licked candies John gave her had made him lose his words a time or two.

 

Before, he had thought she was a normal girl, but after gaining spiritual energy, reality asserted itself. She was a witch, and John was a wizard. Silas doubted he could be any more impressed with her if he tried.

 

He pulled out his pipe, took a spoonful of tobacco from John’s desk, and dumped it in his pipe while clutching his staff under an armpit.

 

“Tis a small world after all,” Soifon said, starting the conversation as the highest-ranking person among them.

 

He was glad he had a pipe to fill as an excuse to wait and see who was to speak first. Power was important; Soifon may not be more than a graduated Shinigami at this time. By the way, she held herself; he assumed she was equal in power to at least a seated officer.

 

“Knowing poor Oscar turned hollow was hard on us. We thought that mayhap he survived the attack on his family.” John said.

 

Silas looked between the two and decided they weren’t playing the game. That was ok; at least he had a name for the bear hollow. While it had multiple meanings, Oscar could mean deer lover, which sounded like a good name for a bear. Knowing the kid’s name hadn’t changed a thing except that he had a source of intel about the beast. He was all for solving the problem first and thinking about the morality of the situation later.

 

“Do thou know where he is now? I pledged to end the monster the next time we met and aim to keep my word.” Silas said.

 

“He is my cousin by distant if dirtied blood, tis my responsibility. What Oscar’s doing isn’t his fault. While those bumbling feckless red Indian turned Shinigami didn’t know their blade from their behinds, this one does. Even dead, they have the coordination of drunken savages on the field. No amount of Shinigami training could whip them into shape, even if all they had to do was tap the head of plus souls before their chain ran out.” John threw his pipe against the wall shattering it. “So pathetic, and it's up to my household to hunt down the abomination of Grisham's blood. Tis time to subdue the beast while it remains weak; Grisham spiritual energy lives on within the monster. Methinks it will only grow more dangerous as it consumes souls and evolves.” John said.

 

The lack of results from the red Indians' training reminded him of his problem with his recruits. It reminded him of Persia’s attempts to recreate Greek hoplites or the Chinese attempts to make Mongol archers or samurai. There was something about the cultures of the people they copied that wasn’t present in the current society. That something made red Indians’ poor Shinigami, as Silas would probably be a poor wizard or Shinigami.

 

“I have reported the situation, and my orders are to eliminate the threat the creature poses. Stand in my way, wizard, and thy head will roll.” Soifon said.

 

“Don’t presume to order me about in my own home. With a gesture, I could scorch the flesh from thy bones. Thou wield a sword, but magic is my sword, and I wield it like a surgeon’s scalpel. There have been experiments in the past to restore a soul before letting it pass on. The inner light shall shine through, and words from his kin will stop this evil.” John said.

 

“Shall I mark thou as fallen and take thy daughters to bed? Methinks, our Shinigami friend knows more about hollows than thee. Mistress Soifon, how would thou solve this issue with the least bloodshed?”  Silas asked.

 

The Shinigami’s lips quirked up before Mary walked in radiant as ever and holding two glasses of expensive watered-down wine. For puritan villages, any kind of alcohol that wasn’t for medical use was contraband. That only meant the black market was very lucrative.

 

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Silas tossed back his drink like a shot draining it in moments. It wasn’t spirit wine, but it would do until he could build a vineyard to grow spirit grapes. Getting that treat back would be well worth the work. For the moment, he was left wanting when he tasted no spirit energy. The alcohol in the watered-down wine couldn’t get Silas drunk due to his cultivation.

 

“Cousin methinks thou dislike my leadership. Have I been incompetent in the past?” John said. 

 

Most of John’s gifts were more trouble than they were worth. His daughter, Silas, glanced at the girl quiet in the corner of the room, waiting on them as was her duty to the house. He didn’t know her, but John happily offered her hand. Her silky blonde hair was tied in a bun and covered with a bonnet, and she was dressed to hide the curves of a woman nearly grown. They were about in the same place where puberty was concerned, and she was a witch.

 

Add cultivation to the mix, and she could be a powerful ally once married and away from her father. He suspected she would still be loyal to the Grisham family, but with children, loyalties could change. Adding the Reverse London magic blood to his descendants could ensure they were much more powerful from birth.

 

As for John’s leadership, Silas liked the man like a brother and knowing he was a wizard eased some of his concerns. Sending men out into the wilderness to be picked apart while John formulated a plan to capture and somehow convince a hollow to give up its evil ways after it consumed the soul of its mother was naïve.

 

“Methinks, thou let Christian morals infect thee with forgiveness and grace. Step away from this and let cooler heads prevail. Thy family needs thy leadership, and I am certain thou have a wedding to plan. Thy offer of betrothal to thy daughter is accepted graciously.” Silas said.

 

Mary gasped, and he barely remembered saying much to her. John was his friend, not her, but that was the way of the world. They hadn’t courted in sewn sheets as was a tradition in high puritan families. Such a binding wouldn’t prove effective against his aura anyway.

 

An idea hit him then on a method of fine aura control, but he didn’t have parchment to write it down. He would have to hope to remember it later when he returned to his far. Silas imagined practicing sewing with a needle and thread without touching it would take fine control.

 

Soifon looked between himself and the girl and frowned. “Mayhap, I forget that thou art a living man and not a fellow Shinigami despite thy round eyes,” Soifon said as she gave Mary a dissatisfied look. “Methinks Silas is correct thy leadership tis necessary here, my powers art recovered, and a contingent of proper Shinigami will arrive soon. Therefore, before any ceremonies commence, I ask Silas to join me on the hunt if thou can keep up.” Soifon said with a smirk.

 

“Thou reject my authority and take my son-in-law on a hollow hunt for my kin; thou art a contentious guest. Bind,” John said.

 

Thunderous magic erupted from John’s hand and bound Soifon in electrifying chains before Silas could react. Silas grabbed his head at the stupidity of his friend.

 

“Daughter, be the mistress of the house and watch the hostage while she is present; the Shinigami won’t act against us. Silas, can thy nag keep up with a warhorse?” John said.

 

This was a horrible idea, but if he didn’t help his friend, he would get himself killed. So Silas would have to kill the beast at the first opportunity.

 

Mary held a hand up at Soifon; the threat was clear. Silas didn’t know what was going on or why John wasn’t nervous about pissing off the 13-court guard squad, or it could be a play to break contact with them.

 

Soifon looked down at her bindings and then back at John. “Thou know that in our standard operating procedure, once backup is called, a contingent can only act under the command of a seated officer. Mayhap thou thought to keep me here so my men would mill about without orders, and once the beast was no longer problematic, all would be forgiven. After my report, our captain marches upon this far-flung realm; the goddess of flash arrives; prepare thy girdle, hide thy loins, and prepare for the assassin’s blade of the 13 court guard squads.” Soifon said, then she looked at Silas. “Keep the idiot alive for my mistress to chew out if thou would, cousin.”

 

That brought a smile to Silas’s face. While they hadn’t known each other for long, they had survived a tough patch together. He trusted her enough to sleep under her watch.

 

“I will do as bid and shore up the tide of madness,” Silas said.

 

No, he wasn’t going to knock John out or move against him, hoping he was strong and fast enough to take a wizard out without killing him. Wizards were tough, and he doubted John was an exception. Since they were already going to head out after the hollow together on horseback while the army William Penn brought acted as a big meaty trouble magnet Silas had things to talk to the man about.

 

Silas looked over Soifon, bound by solid lightning more easily than Silas imagined. If John could do that to her, he surely could do the same to the hollow. Killing it then would be easier if it only had one body. Silas wasn’t sure if it could be called a single entity any longer. It had evolved but not through the traditional route. After it consumed its mother, the monster changed in tactics completely. He would have to be careful, especially with how erratic John acted. It made Silas angry, but he had to act calm; this was like dealing with a powerful elder. Any sign of treasonous action would be swiftly punished. It's why Silas hadn’t struck out against him; the man had far more spiritual energy than Silas.

 

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