The Ramshuk (Heirs of Legacy Book 3)

by Paul Lauritsen

  The desperate evacuation continued, vertaga pounding down the corridor and into the main hallways. The great cavern was still crammed at the far end, and Ruekig was having difficulty shepherding the stragglers to safety. Garnuk and Tarq threw open the next set of doors, then the last. Garnuk entered the last room and commanded the slaves to flee. As the emaciated figures streamed past him, one stopped in the flow and was nearly trampled. Then, with a wild cry it leapt at him.

  Garnuk held his attacker away with both hands desperately, and was about to slam them against the wall when the grimy face looked up at him. The Exile met the slave’s eyes and froze, stunned. Garnuk stumbled out into the corridor, carried along by the fleeing slaves, and his assailant followed, along with another, smaller vertag. A cub.

  Chapter 56:

  Escape

  “You came!” Kuvasse cried, clinging to him. The little one, Akavu, stood there uncertainly, eying Garnuk with a wary expression. Garnuk’s battle-hardened heart cracked a little at the sight of the tiny, suspicious figure.

  “It took ten years,” Garnuk murmured. “But yes, I am here. And we’re leaving. We can catch up later. I’ll carry Akavu for you, it will be much faster – ”

  “Who are you?” Akavu asked belligerently.

  “He is your father,” Kuvasse said quietly. “Trust him.”

  “Why? Where did he come from?”

  Kuvasse sighed. “Just carry her. It sounds like the mountain is coming down.”

  “Aye,” Garnuk agreed. “We need to go. Tarq!”

  The captain crossed the hall to join them. “You found them?” he said. “Good, the last of the civilians are on their way now. We may yet survive this.”

  “Don’t say things like that,” Garnuk said, running to the end of the hall. Gorit and his companion were gone, leaving Garnuk and Tarq to shepherd the rest of the slaves along. “Hopefully the rest of our warriors can hold – ”

  The mountain shook again under the assault of the catapults. Garnuk heard stone cracking all around him, the sound of rubble and scree sliding down the mountainside. From the direction of the command post, he heard dismayed shouts.

  “Run!” someone shouted. “We have to get out of here, before the mountain collapses. Down to the gate!”

  Dozens of armored warriors streamed towards Garnuk and the slaves, shoving through them carelessly, knocking several down and trampling them. Generals and commanders followed, shouting to each other, trying to form a plan of action. One of them bumped Garnuk and knocked him down. His fall caught the eye of another ram, one who had been safely ensconced among the others. The ram’s gaze started to pass over Garnuk carelessly. Then their eyes met, and both warriors froze.

  “Impossible,” the Ramshuk whispered, sliding to a halt. Several of his advisors crashed into him, nearly knocking him over, then came to an uncertain halt as well. Time was frozen, even as the Sthan catapults continued their assault on the mountain.

  “Norkuvad,” Garnuk said heavily, getting to his feet. “Your war goes poorly, I see. You should go and see about the gate.”

  The Ramshuk chuckled and took a step towards Garnuk. The Exile took a step back as well, maintaining the distance between them, holding his arms out to keep Kuvasse and Akavu back. He heard Tarq behind him as well, but everyone else seemed to have fled this part of the mountain.

  “The battle can wait,” Norkuvad said finally. “This moment has been a long time coming. Ten years, Exile. Ten years my elite warriors have hunted you.”

  “No longer,” Garnuk said fiercely, eyes flashing. “I destroyed them.”

  “Even Hunon?”

  “Yes,” Garnuk replied, glaring at the Usurper.

  “I’m impressed. But now you shall have to pay the price for their deaths. I should not have expected Hunon to outsmart you a second time.”

  “He didn’t outsmart me the first time,” Garnuk growled. “He betrayed me, and despite that I got away.”

  “Yes, and we could not find you, but – ” He broke off suddenly, looking beyond Garnuk to the others. “Is this your family?” he asked laughing. “Oh, this is a glorious day. We assumed they had gone with you and perished, but they were here all along, hiding among the slaves. Very clever. And I see you have brought Tarq with you. How nice. I shall be rid of the Sthan and you, all in a single day.”

  “You won’t be rid of the Sthan until you deal with that dragon,” Garnuk replied.

  “Ah,” the Ramshuk said, frowning. “Yes, the dragon. Fortunately, I have a way to deal with that little problem. Although it will take time, yes, and careful planning. It’s not a quick solution, if you know what I mean.”

  The mountain shook again and small stones came dislodged from the ceiling, bouncing on the hard floor. One struck Garnuk’s horns, clattering off of them.

  “But I digress,” the Usurper continued, advancing again and lifting a massive, spiked club. “This is a moment to savor. The Exile, a thorn in my side for ten years, a traitor to his kind, has come back to Dun Carryl to die.”

  “Not to die,” Garnuk snarled, drawing his sword and shrugging his shield into position. “To live. I came here to evacuate as many as I could before the Sthan broke in and slaughtered everyone. Today, I am a savior of our race.”

  “Do you truly believe that?” the Usurper demanded. “It was you who laid our people low all those years ago. Can you truly atone for that mistake?”

  “I can do my best,” Garnuk replied grimly. “I have saved our people. Now, I can protect them by destroying the fool who brought them to the brink of extinction again.” He glanced at Tarq, noticing the captain had been edging forward to join him. “Tarq, take Kuvasse and Akavu. Get them to safety. I will finish the mission.”

  “No, general,” Tarq said quickly. “I will stay and fight with you.”

  “And us!” Kuvasse cried. “We just got you back. We’re not leaving you now.”

  “Go!” Garnuk snarled. “There is no time, the mountain is collapsing. I’ll buy you a few minutes’ head start.” And with that, the Exile hurled himself at the Usurper, bellowing with rage, allowing the thirst for revenge to break loose and fill him with raw strength and emotion.

  Garnuk’s sword flashed and darted, weaving around the Usurper in glittering arcs. The Ramshuk backed away quickly, knocking a few blows aside with his club and dodging the rest. His speed and grace with the massive weapon were astounding. But even he gave way before Garnuk’s onslaught.

  Then, after a quick thrust, the Usurper changed tactics, lunging forward and sweeping with the club. Garnuk dropped flat and cut at Norkuvad’s shin with his blade, opening a long, shallow gash there. The Usurper stumbled back, and his advisors surged forward in a protective ring, drawing their weapons.

  Garnuk rolled to his feet and dove into their midst, smashing weapons aside and striking over and over again. None could stand against him for more than a few seconds despite their numbers. Blood splattered on the floors and walls, drops flying from Garnuk’s blade as he swung, staining the edge an inky black. He felt neither pity nor regret at the deaths of these advisors. They had chosen to stand between him and the Usurper, and so must die.

  Eventually, the last one fell dead at his feet and Garnuk was facing Norkuvad again. The Usurper was favoring his right leg, and had scavenged a large shield from one of his dead followers. Another series of impacts shook the mountain and as they stood there, staring each other down, cracks appeared in the walls and ceiling. A few meters behind Norkuvad, a five-foot section of ceiling gave way and crashed to the floor, shattering into a thousand deadly fragments.

  The Usurper’s eyes narrowed as he studied Garnuk, covered in blood yet barely tired, standing with his sword and shield at the ready. Garnuk shifted his feet, planting himself firmly on the shaking floor, and waited. Behind him, the others were shouting, begging him to run with them. He paid them no heed, knowing the Usurper would simply pursue them and kill them all.

  “Let us end this, Norkuvad,” Garnuk called over t
he din of cracking, falling stone. “Fight me for once, instead of sending someone else to do it for you, hornless coward.”

  Norkuvad raised his club from the ground and crouched behind his shield. “You will not escape me again,” he warned. “This time, for sure, you will die.”

  Garnuk smiled humorlessly. “I hear that a lot.”

  With a wordless bellow, Norkuvad ran forward, sweeping with his club. Garnuk ducked low, then grunted in surprise as the Usurper buffeted him with his shield, hurling him back a pace. Garnuk retaliated with a quick slash, which Norkuvad parried with his club, Garnuk’s sword screeching off of one of the metal spikes.

  Norkuvad struck back in the blink of an eye, wielding his club with one hand as though it weighed nothing. Garnuk jumped back to avoid the first pass, then stepped sideways as it slammed into the floor where he had been standing, cracking the stone. Garnuk saw an opening and lunged with his sword, but the Usurper merely laughed and caught the point on his shield. The blade bit deep into the wood and stuck there.

  As Garnuk swore angrily and tried to free his blade, Norkuvad freed his club from the ground, tearing loose a section of the floor, and swung at Garnuk’s head. The Exile barely got his shield up in time, but he was hurled off his feet by the impact, crashing against the wall and slumping to the ground, his ears ringing. He groaned with the pain and rolled over, trying to draw his dagger to defend himself. His left arm was at an awkward angle, refusing to obey his commands.

  Norkuvad was bearing down on him with his club, Garnuk’s sword still embedded in his shield. A few meters away, Tarq was holding Garnuk’s family back, trying to convince them to run. Then, Kuvasse kicked Tarq and broke free, running at Norkuvad with a scream of pure hatred and fear.

  The Usurper turned, surprised, and swung with his club. Kuvasse ducked inside the weapon’s reach, punching, kicking and clawing at the Ramshuk desperately, trying to give Garnuk time to recover. Behind her, Akavu broke free from the distracted and harried Tarq as well, running in to assist her mother. She kicked Norkuvad in the leg, right where Garnuk had wounded him, then began biting and clawing at the Ramshuk’s legs. Norkuvad swore violently, dropping his shield to free up a hand to try and pry his enraged assailants off.

  Tarq hurried to Garnuk, trying to help him up and inadvertently grabbing his shattered left arm. Garnuk bellowed in pain, but managed to get his feet under him and stood, leaning heavily against the wall.

  “I’m fine,” Garnuk growled. “Get them out of there.”

  “They fight well,” Tarq observed.

  “Norkuvad is trained to fight though,” Garnuk snapped. “He will crush them soon. Save them, quickly.”

  “What about you?”

  Garnuk shrugged and stumbled toward the Usurper. “I’ll put my knife in him while he is distracted.”

  The two warriors advanced, prepared to end the savage fight. Then, the dragon roared outside and a terrible noise echoed through the hall.

  Above them somewhere, stone was tearing and cracking, falling, tumbling, and shattering. The sharp reports were coming fast and furious, echoing through the confined space at deafening levels. The floor bucked and heaved and shattered into large, slanting plates. Farther down the hall, the ceiling gave way and part of the mountain vanished in a cloud of rubble. Then, to Garnuk’s horror, the destruction began to spread towards the Usurper and Garnuk’s family, still engaged in their battle.

  “Run!” Garnuk shouted, lurching forward. He could reach them, another few steps –

  The hallway in front of him vanished in a storm of tumbling boulders. Tarq yelled out a warning and pulled his general back, out of harm’s way. Garnuk fought against him, trying to move forward. He could see them through the rubble, still fighting, yelling with fear and frustration. They were on an island now though, a lone section of unbroken hall amid a world of destruction. Then, Garnuk saw another boulder tumbling down, spinning slowly. It struck the Usurper in the head and plunged through the floor, taking Kuvasse and Akavu with it.

  “No!” Garnuk shouted, trying to dive after them. Tarq was pulling him the other way, away from the collapsing hallway, towards firmer ground. Garnuk swore and cursed and fought. Then, something hard hit him between his horns and he fell unconscious. Just before his vision went dark though, he saw a massive emerald beast plummeting through the debris, wings straining as it raced towards the ground far below.

  The dragon, he thought as he drifted away. The dragon had done this. It brought down the mountain, and the Usurper, and it had killed his mate and cub.

  Chapter 57:

  Tools for Revenge

  Garnuk woke to find his arm throbbing with a terrible pain. It seemed as though the flesh there had been sliced open then stabbed with dozens of tiny needles. The Exile groaned in agony and opened his eyes, only to find a world as dark as when his eyes had been closed.

  He was in some sort of structure, a tent perhaps. Cold winds were gusting outside, and the walls of the structure shook occasionally. Garnuk groaned again, trying to sit up, then remembered what had happened.

  Gone. Consumed by the mountain.

  Garnuk’s spirit shattered, breaking into thousands of pieces, his will utterly crushed. He had failed. All these years of survival, all those months of careful planning, the daring rescue of the people of Dun Carryl. All of it, only to fail his family when it mattered most. They had died having to save him, because he had failed to beat the Usurper. Kuvasse was gone and Akavu with her. The child had hardly known him, yet still joined the fight. What was there left to live for now, with no Usurper to pursue for vengeance, no kin to free from slavery?

  “General.”

  Garnuk turned his head left and right, and was just able to make out a dark silhouette, sitting absolutely still a few meters away. Tarq.

  “How do you feel?” the captain asked cautiously.

  “Terrible,” Garnuk grunted, his voice strangely weak and unstable.

  Tarq nodded soberly. “I know. I failed them too, general. I am sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Garnuk muttered. “It’s mine, all mine. The war, the Usurper, the Black Hawks, all of our friends who have died, Kuvasse and Akavu. It’s all my fault.”

  “You have saved our people though,” Tarq told him. “The Sthan are gone. Their army is in full retreat, save for a small group camped in the mountains to the west. They have made no effort to explore Dun Carryl or retrieve their dead.”

  “And have we?” Garnuk asked in a hollow voice.

  Tarq nodded sadly. “Yes. Teams are digging through the rubble every night, when the Sthan can’t see us. We have to be careful so we don’t attract their interest and make them think the war isn’t over. The collapse . . . the western part of the mountain is gone, Garnuk. The rubble fills the canyon nearly to the top, almost obliterating it. We may never get the gate unburied again. Even the great cavern was cracked open.”

  Garnuk grimaced. “The others? All the civilians and slaves – ”

  “They survived,” Tarq reported. “We did a good thing, Garnuk. If we had not acted, most of them would now lie dead as well.”

  “It could have been better,” Garnuk growled.

  “I know,” Tarq murmured. “I can’t imagine the pain or the loss, but I know.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Garnuk said frowning, “But I am grateful anyway.”

  Tarq nodded. “We are here for you, all of us. Shadow Squadron survived. Everyone made it in time to help evacuate the others. Word has spread about how it was you that saved the people of Dun Carryl, I don’t know how. The elders and clan leaders who were here, serving under the Ramshuk, they are especially grateful. There is talk of making you Ramshuk once more.”

  “I told you before, I don’t want the title back.”

  “You didn’t then,” Tarq agreed. “But with . . . well, with everything that has happened, you might find that staying busy is best for now. It would take your mind off things.”

  Garnuk lay back
heavily and closed his eyes without responding. After a moment, he heard Tarq get up. The captain hesitated by the entrance, then spoke again.

  “The Council of Masks made contact with our agent again,” he said quietly, “They are disappointed we failed to kill the king, but have not lost faith in us. Their words, not mine,” he added quickly. “Perhaps they could have been powerful allies, but I suppose we’ll never know.”

  “They would have betrayed us,” Garnuk muttered without opening his eyes. “I have no doubt about that. They view us as tools, Tarq. Simple, dangerous, useful tools.”

  The captain stood there a moment longer, hovering uncertainly. “I’ll let you rest,” he said finally, then exited the tent. The Exile listened to the captain’s retreating footsteps, then sighed and focused on sleeping. When he was asleep at least, it was easier to keep the grief at bay.

  Garnuk spent the next few days alternating between sleep and painful periods of wakefulness. His arm was slow to mend, but the other wounds he had suffered, those of heart and mind, were even slower. Other members of Shadow Squadron came to look in on him, even Gorit and Ruekig. The two former officers of the Usurper treated him with near reverence, knowing the sacrifice he had made.

  On the sixth night of digging, the body of Norkuvad was found. The Ramshuk had been crushed and maimed almost beyond recognition. Before he had been struck down by the avalanche though, countless scratches had been torn in his exposed flesh by the next two bodies that were found, Kuvasse and Akavu. They were not as mangled as the Ramshuk, but they were still broken. Their bodies were brought to the camp outside Dun Carryl where Garnuk was recovering and burned on a ceremonial pyre. Traditionally, such a ceremony was reserved only for great heroes, but Shadow Squadron ignored the whispers of disapproval and proceeded anyways. Garnuk was grateful for that, and it gave him some small amount of pleasure that the courage of his family was finally recognized.

  By the second week, Garnuk was on his feet again and helping with the recovery effort. There had been no sign of the dragon, or of the Sthan who were camped nearby. Tarq had members of Shadow Squadron keeping an eye out for them though, just in case.