by Eric Ugland
“I get it,” I said. “I hear you—”
“And yet it is a conversation we have every time you fight. You ask for my advice, I give it to you, and you promptly forget we have ever spoken. Either you commit to bettering yourself under the tutelage of those who know what they are doing, or you release me from your hirð and allow me to leave.”
“What? Come on now — you lose everything if I release you. You’ll be a sneeze away from death.”
“Better to die that way than watch you drag all of these people into a hell of suffering because you cannot be bothered to better yourself.”
That took me back a bit.
“I thought I was doing that,” I said.
“When was the last time you trained?”
“In what?”
“In anything, Montana. Anything.”
“Um, I learned a lot out with the ranger—”
“Were you training? Have you put his lessons into play? Have you worked on tracking or identifying birds or whatever it is you felt you learned in the two days you were out there?”
“No, not yet—”
“Then it was not training. At best, it was learning. And even then, it was learning while someone else was the student.”
“I’ve been kind of busy.”
“Yes. I recognize that fact. And yet, you must make time for training and practice.” He lowered his volume, and leaned across the table. “This world is different than yours. You must continue to improve and you must use the skills, abilities, and whatnot you have gained and been given. Otherwise you die. And since I know you cannot really die, the results will be worse. For you will be reborn elsewhere while all those who chose to follow your banner will perish most horribly.”
He sat back and took a harsh bite of a sausage, his baleful glare never leaving my face for a moment.
“You’re right,” I said. He was. I had asked for his advice, and the advice of others plenty of times, and I’d never really taken any of it to heart. “I’m, I guess, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do though.”
“I suppose admitting the problem exists is the first step,” he said. “But the hard part is doing the work. As long as the siege is going on, you will be trapped in here. That will give you plenty of time to train. Sword and board comes first. You have skill with the shield now, but you need actual time with it to master the combination.”
“Another thing, though. Not to interrupt where you were going with that, but I got a quest from a god last night.”
“This is not going to be good is it?”
“No. Well,” I paused, trying to think of some way it could be anything other than a gigantic pain in the ass, but, “no. It’s not good. I have been tasked with killing, well, ridding the world of the corrupt ursus. Kill, cure, banish to another realm, whatever the case may be.”
“Did this god give you a number?”
“She gave me a stone,” I pulled out the rock and set it on the table. Nikolai’s eyebrow raised at the glowing edge, but I noticed he didn’t touch it. “And she gave me a bow.”
“Does she know you?”
“We’ve met before—”
“I meant you are uniquely suited to many things, yet archery is not one of them.”
“She was pretty clear in saying, without saying directly, that close combat with the corrupted ones is a bad idea. Also, that our initial encounter may have lead to the spread of the corruption amongst our own people.”
“Did this goddess tell you anything about the nature of the corruption?”
“No. I asked, but she said she couldn’t say. Which is weird, right? Like, why can’t a god say something? Who’s the one that’s keeping the reigns on the gods—”
“Greater Gods. I assume she is not of the Eight?”
“She’s not.”
“Then there are likely many above her in power. And there might be some below her who still might successfully challenge her.”
“The bow she gave me is made out of her bone, or one of her bones. So, I also have to return that when the quest is done or she’ll be, uh, weakened. And I guess easily killed.”
“Eventful night.”
“They all seem to be. Also, there’s one of her clerics here now. And someone who’s a LifeWeaver. He used to be a farmer, and he said he’d stay here and farm, teach the others how to farm, that sort of thing. Provided we let him continue his experiments blending nature together next year.”
“And you agreed to this?”
“I did. It seemed prudent. He’s got some ideas on growing food in the mountain. Or under the mountain. However.”
“Back to more pressing matters: Wian sent Alexios out over the wall last night, I expect the ranger to return soon, give us his update on the movements of the ursus. I know they told you they were leaving, but I do not believe for a moment they actually left. At least, not all of them.”
“So, we wait for the ranger to come in from the north. Then what?”
“Weather the attacks from the south.”
“Actual fighting is taking place?”
“According to the scouts we have watching the tunnel, Caticorix’s men are bringing a battering ram up. I have yet to order the murder holes used for anything other than scouting. We may wish to save that trick for a rainier day.”
“I think the gates will stand for a time.”
Nikolai nodded, then said, “The stone will hold. At least long enough for us to ignore them and focus on our other enemy. Our food problem will grow quickly though — that is something we cannot let lay low. This quest of yours—”
“Ours, buddy. You’re in the hirð.”
“I have little time for this quest. Perhaps you have yet to notice, but someone has to run this camp of ours.”
“We are definitely almost a village.”
“Camp, village, town, whatever you want to call it, I am trying to keep this dream of ours alive. That requires I sit and read over papers and make the decisions no one else want to.”
“Bah, stop with the self-pity. Your job is important and cushy. You sit inside, get good food, and don’t have to stop enemy spears with your face.”
“If you would learn proper fighting, you would realize there are better things to use as a shield than your head. Though I doubt there is anything we can do to salvage the damage already done to your face.”
“Yeah, well, you’re an ugly motherfucker, too.”
He smiled, a rare thing from Nikolai these days. Then he shoveled food into his mouth.
“First thing,” he said with a fine spray of eggs, “we get some of our minds together. Every ursus we can save is a potential ally and removes a soldier from our enemy. Curing should be preferable to killing. Since I doubt you have the requisite skills or attributes to assist with finding a cure, you need to train with the bow. Get to the point where that can be your main weapon. I fear it could be more difficult now that you’ve gained some levels and have proficiencies outside of ranged combat. You will undoubtedly have developed bad habits, and I am not sure who we have able to train you adequately in archery. I will speak with Wian, have him talk to the soldiers—”
“Talk to Nathalie,” I interrupted to say. “Have Nathalie speak to Wian.”
“And why is that?”
“We made Nathalie in charge of security—”
“Wian is in charge of the Thingmen.”
“I am in charge of the Thingmen,” I said.
Nikolai smiled again. “A good thing to remember, my lord.”
“I don’t want Nathalie to think she’s being pushed out. We need to rope her into any discussions about soldiers and security. Maybe Wian is in charge of fighting outside the city, soldiers and what not, and Nathalie is in charge of fighting inside the city. Guards and the like.”
“A good idea, my lord. I will initiate those changes if you give me leave.”
“Were you just trying to get me to do that on my own? Was this a lesson?”
“I would never s
toop to such deception, my duke.”
“I liked it better when you just threatened me with a naked blade.”
He had a butter knife to my throat in half a heartbeat.
“They are not mutually exclusive,” he said with a sinister smile, “my lord.”
“You think I need an assistant?”
“No.”
“But—”
“No. You need to learn the fine art of the bow. Go find someone to teach you. And stay in range of the gates. I have a feeling fighting will find us today.”
“Joy.”
He just shook his head and focused on finishing his breakfast.
“Last thing: Emeline.”
“I have yet to see her.”
“I’m starting to get worried.”
“She is a capable girl. I am confident she—”
“Maybe in a city. But out here?”
“I will have Wian get all his men looking for her. All the ones not on duty at least.”
“When you find out where her room is, or if you need me,” I summoned a prinky, “send this guy to me.”
“If you have them bring me shiny rocks again—”
“A one-time joke.”
“I believe it has been multiple—”
“It’s been funny every time.”
He glared at me. I smiled, and darted off.
Chapter 127
A shiver jolted through me as I walked outside. It wasn’t bitterly cold, but it was still the type of weather to make you want to stay inside and watch movies. Or play video games. And drink hot cocoa. Instead, I walked along the wall looking for someone carrying a well-worn bow. I’d have preferred to talk to one of the rangers, but I only knew of one, and he was out spying on the ursus.
A young woman with red hair streaming behind her leaned against the battlements. She looked out over the cleared land as the snow struggled to cover the ground. She had a large quiver of arrows on her back, and a second hanging from her belt. A strung bow rested in one hand.
She looked over as I approached, saw who I was, and seemed to relax ever so slightly. Then I think it registered who I was, and she stood up straight and snapped her hand to her chest in salute.
“My lord,” she said, bowing her head. “Do you need something?”
“Are you on duty?” I asked.
“Not officially, no. But, and begging your pardon my lord, there is little for some of us to do here, so I thought I might best serve you and yours by adding my eyes to the wall.”
“If you’ve got time to lean, you’ve got time to clean, right? There must be a way to make that work with guarding, but…” I trailed off, realizing my joke wasn’t even close to landing.
She peered right through me, I think really trying to figure out what I was trying to say.
“You would like me to clean—”
“Let’s pretend that last thing I said never happened,” I said.
“Yes, your grace.”
“I recently, uh, how to explain this. You look like you know about archery — is that true?”
“I am an archer, your grace, yes.”
“Can you teach me how to shoot?”
She looked me up and down and gave the most polite raise of an eyebrow I’ve ever seen.
“I believe you are, perhaps, more suited for other styles of combat.”
“Yeah well, as that may be, I need to learn how to shoot. If you can’t teach—”
“No your grace, I am able to. I, uh, I would be happy to instruct you.”
“Great,” I snapped, “let’s get to work.”
She saluted and turned to lead me away, but then a cry went up from the northern gates.
I looked out across the field to see Alexios the ranger sprinting from the trees. His armor ruined, his clothes torn, blood streaming out of a number of injuries.
A roar came out of the trees, and a flock of birds flew up, startled from their roosts. Ursus streamed out of the woods after the ranger. I’d seen the ursus charge before, and had not exactly been impressed with their speed. I figured a human in reasonable shape could outrun one. But an injured human running through uneven terrain while exhausted? That made things a bit closer to equal. In this case, the ursus were catching up.
I pushed the archer-lady out of the way, and sprinted along the wall toward the gate.
More of my soldiers ran onto the wall, but even more were at the gate, muscling the doors open and shouting encouragement to Alexios. Soldiers worked to shove a long wooden plank across the open pit, a de facto drawbridge of sorts.
Plenty of the cursed bears were howling behind Alexios. Even though he was well over a hundred yards away, I felt like I could see the whites of his eyes. Fear pumped through the man in an almost palpable way.
I stepped out onto the plank, noticed it was already starting to bend a bit, and looked at the men and women around me.
“Get a stronger bridge,” I snapped, jumping into the hole. I ran across and pulled myself out on the other side.
The guards inside Coggeshall ran around trying to find something to act as a bridge while I pulled the fancy new bow out of my bag.
Looking it over, I could feel a thrum of power pulse from the bone. It felt like it was a living thing, ready to do my bidding, happy to fight for me and Eona. I was eager to use it.
One minor issue.
“Arrows,” I shouted back to the wall. “I need arrows.”
The redheaded archer caught my eye, and though I could tell she was questioning the wisdom of it, she tossed one of her quivers my way. The arrows mostly stayed in, though more than a few scattered around on the ground as I caught the quiver.
I grabbed the first arrow, nocked it onto the string, and pulled back. It was actually a little hard. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I struggled, but considering I hadn’t really been challenged physically in a while, it was surprising. I had no real idea how or where to aim, so I tried my best to line up the arrow head with where I wanted it to go. Then, I released.
There was an immensely loud crack, and the arrow disappeared. I barely followed where it went, it was nearly impossible to see as it shot over the trees and vanished into the sky. Whatever I’d done, I certainly didn’t hit any of the plentiful targets I’d aimed at. And it was ridiculously loud. Which was ridiculous. Why was the arrow loud? Enough that Alexios hit the deck as the arrow flew overhead, and the ursus did likewise.
For a moment, it was eerily still. Then Alexios got himself to his feet and resumed his sprint. But his pursuers seemed to realize that whatever chance they had at catching their prey had dissipated. While a few of them watched Alexios — or the village of Coggeshall, hard to tell — most of the ursus blended back into the trees.
As Alexios got closer, it was pretty clear he was running on the barest of fumes. He stumbled once, twice, then dropped to the ground. I darted out and helped him to his feet. My bow brushed against him, and he hissed as his skin smoked. He leapt back, suddenly finding a new reserve of energy.
“Fuck, man,” I said, looking at the curling black skin around the burn mark on his arm. “They got you, huh?”
He didn’t say anything, but he glared at me. His teeth bared, arms out to either side, waiting to make a move. Or waiting for me to make a move.
But I didn’t know what to do, so I just remained still.
So he lunged at me.
I hauled off and hit him in the jaw, and his head snapped to the side. He dropped to the ground, out.
I wiped my hand off on my pant leg. I knew he was infected, or corrupted, but I wasn’t sure how it spread. Was it through saliva? Other bodily fluids? Was there a ceremony of sorts? Could Alexios still talk? Plenty of questions. But for the moment, no answers. And here I was, pretty much completely vulnerable should the ursus decide to charge. I looked over my shoulder at the men and women in Coggeshall. They looked back at me, confusion evident on their faces. I didn’t know what to do. My best choice was carrying him back. If I asked my soldiers
to bring out a gurney or something, it could open them up to attacks from the ursus. I had a good feeling I was immune to the corruption, thanks to my relationship with Eona. In that regard, I slung him over my shoulder and marched back into Coggeshall, ignoring the betrayed looks from my Thingmen.
Chapter 128
I brought Alexios to the Hall — it was the only place I could think of where no one was likely to wander in for no reason. I threw Alexios into a chair, got a bunch of rope out of my bag, and tied the man down. Still unconscious, he leaned against his restraints, drool coming down his chin.
I walked across the empty hall and barged into Nikolai’s office. He was at his desk flipping through a bunch of paper.
“What is it you want?” He asked.
“Alexios is back.”
“And?”
“He’s been turned.”
“Corrupted?”
“Yeah.”
“You have proof of this?” He asked, jumping to his feet.
“Two possible methods,” I said, pulling out the holy rock of glowing. Sure enough, the glowing edge pointed right back at Alexios. I headed back into the Hall, and Nikolai followed. Together, we walked around the restrained man, and the glow stayed pointed his way. “Also, if I touch him with Eona’s Bow, he gets some minor skin irritation.”
Nikolai pointed to the charred flesh. “This?”
“Yeah.”
“Minor irritation?”
“I think it burns the longer it’s on. But yeah, it does a bit of a number.”
“Do you know how the corruption spreads?”
“No. But that’s one reason I didn’t kill Alexios. I figured our best plan of action for the man is to experiment on him. Find a cure.”
“How was he brought in?”
“I carried him.”
“Then it is his blood on you?”
“Yeah—”