Chapter 742: Demonic Storm
That night, a storm like none anyone living could recall savaged the western territories of Lothian March. From the northernmost edge of Dunn Barony to the southern edge of Hanrahan Barony and as far east as the Village of Maeril the storm stretched out its claws, leaving none unscathed.
In the small hamlet of Cal’s Watch, lightning split the sky with a thunderous -CLACK- -BOOM- that shook the walls of houses, knocking dishes off shelves while more than a dozen farm dogs answered back, barking and howling at the noise of the night.
From his place atop the hamlet’s watch tower, Ennis pulled his heavy wool cloak tight around his shoulders while tugging the hood down to keep it secure against the wind. The sounds of bleating sheep rose from the pens near the gate while the mooing of spooked cattle could be heard drifting on the wind from beyond the hamlet’s palisade walls.
-CLACK- -BOOM-
Another peel of thunder shook the village while Ennis blinked rapidly to restore his vision after the blinding flash of light. Somewhere, out beyond the walls, he could swear he’d seen hunched figures moving through the darkness, but that was impossible, wasn’t it? No one, not even horse thieves, would dare to venture out into a storm like this, would they?
-CLACK- -BOOM-
This time, the bolt of lightning fell farther away, but it was still enough for the sodden and shivering guardsman to see the shadowy figures of cows, clustering together in a low hollow that was somewhat sheltered from the winds. No strange shapes, no men skulking in the night, just cows, driven to seek what shelter could be found in their pasture.
In the morning, when the ranchers returned to survey the damage from the storm, they would find several broken fences and more than half their herds of cattle had run off during the night. Only Ennis, the lone watchmen with the misfortune to stand guard during the storm, thought anything different might have happened.
At the time, no one believed him when he spoke of shadowy figures moving in the night. Even his wife questioned whether he’d truly seen something or if he’d imagined it, especially when she found out he’d taken a bottle of strong wine up to the tower with him, even if he protested that he only took a few sips to ward off the chill of the night.
It wouldn’t be until days later, when word of demon attacks at Kitcher’s Fell and other hamlets reached them, and days of searching for the missing livestock yielded no results that they would come to believe.
"It was a storm sent by demons to conceal their wicked deeds," one rancher insisted.
"No, it was a blessing, a gift from the Holy Lord of Light to keep us all indoors while the demons attacked our herds," another countered. "If we’d been out there with the animals, we’d have been slaughtered like the soldiers in Kitcher’s Fell!"