She had arrived just before dawn. Cold though it was, she was glad that she had done so. Standing here, in the remains of Dernwynn's former front garden, she could see the small, sleepy hamlet below. One or two candles were just being lit within the darkened windows of the houses, signifying that the occupants were waking and getting ready for the day ahead and the last thing Silver wanted, or needed, was nosey locals coming here to see what she might be up to in this burned out husk.
She had moved Steel toward the trees at the back of the hill, away from sight, along with her camping gear, should she have need of it, so as not to draw attention. True, any sounds made might echo into the settlement below, but she hoped that the townsfolk had seen enough of this place for a while. Corpses so often put people off investigating lest they join the pile of cadavers themselves and there were already more than enough as it was.
Silver placed her hands upon her hips as she turned to survey the task ahead. She counted twenty or more bodies, laid out in a semi-circle around the house as if they had lined up to form a chorus, only to suddenly drop dead before the music began. Each one was heavily charred, so much so that what little flesh remained on the exposed bones was naught more than blackened crust.
Good, she thought. They should be suitably brittle.
This would be no easy task. A year ago, it would have been a breeze. But here and now, her body weakened by the effects of the winter on her old injuries, she knew that it would take far longer, and require more effort, than usual.
Needs must.
With a short, sharp sigh, she set about her first task; laying out a large tarpaulin over near an old well. Weighting down the corners with stones from the fallen masonry was simple enough, but nothing thereafter would be quite so easy.
Over the course of the next few hours, she set about dragging the remains, one by one, over to the tarp. The fire had done its work well, taking the vast majority of the load away, but the burnt skeletons were fragile. Bits fell off as she dragged, causing her to need several trips back and forth for each one. Once laid upon the ground cover, she took a large hammer and swung again and again, breaking the bodies to splinters and shards before disposing of the debris in the well. The sheer amount of them, and the frequent rests she needed so as not to overtax herself, made the work long and arduous. Indeed, she was not even halfway done by the time the sun descended and she was forced to make camp for the night.
Come the morrow, the work started again. Drag, fetch, smash, crush and then discard. Over and over until the sun set. Then up again for a third day's demolition of the deceased.
It was that third day that proved to be the most bothersome. The rain started in the small hours. It continued throughout the day. Soaked through, the handle slipping in her hands, the bone dust turning to sludge upon the tarp and upon her. Her mood began to ebb - a dangerous thing under the circumstances as well she knew - and she felt that something was watching her closely. A prickle at the nape of her neck, a tickle at the back of her mind; sensations she knew so well.
"Bollocks to that," she declared brightly, turning to stare down the huge skull set so perfectly at the centre of the ruined house. "And you. You've no power over me, sweetheart."
Turning her back once more, she began to sing as she continued to work upon the last three of the deceased. Songs had always lifted her spirits and that, she knew, was paramount at times like this. A light heart and a clear mind; two of the most powerful weapons in her arsenal and both so freely, and recently, gifted to her by one who would despise her for her work this day. That thought alone compelled her to laugh. Would he have been so flippant about it if he knew what she would be doing with her newfound freedom?
Her song continued, her heart soared on ethereal wings and soon she had run out of bodies to dispose of. That was when she turned her attention fully to the skull.
Standing at a distance, she stared at it a while. The empty eye sockets glared accusingly back at her, so she winked at it. The lipless teeth appeared to grin mockingly, so she stuck her tongue out at it. Eventually, she sauntered over as best she could whilst still forced to rely upon her ebony cane.
"So, it's you, huh?" she said, coming to a stop before it. Through narrowed eyes, she inspected the grisly trophy. "There must be something special about you to be placed so. Were you her lover? Her son? There has to be some connection for her to choose you as her instrument."
Plump lips pursed in thought before she decided that, ultimately, it did not matter. Although Silver had spent the majority of her life around the decaying malevolent, she had never truly hated them. Certainly, they were not her favourite things, as evidenced by the gusto with which she had dispatched them time and again, but for the most part she had felt only pity or indifference. No, it was the ones who raised them in the first place that she truly despised. This skull, and its erstwhile owner, was nothing to her - an unfortunate and unwitting pawn in a campaign of terror orchestrated by one who had even less respect for the dead than did Silver herself.
Hoisting the hammer to her shoulder, she took a deep breath, releasing it as a sigh as she brought the heavy metal lump down upon the crown of the disembodied head. Shards flew, sharp edges scoring gouges deep into the thick leather of her coat. All the easier to gather them up again. She made the time to do so, doing her level best to ensure that none escaped her heavily gloved hands and, when satisfied, she placed them into the tarpaulin, bundled it up to make sure that nothing would escape, then dropped the hammer again and again until naught but dust remained. That went the way of the rest; straight down the old well. And then, in an act of cautiousness, Silver spent several hours with her pickaxe collapsing that too.
"Come on," she spoke wearily to Steel once she had repacked her things. "It's time to go back to the house. You need a good brush and I really need a hot bath!"
