Resistance

by Alex Janaway

  Naimh walked down the stairs and he moved to meet her in an embrace.

  He stepped back and stared open-mouthed. She was tired, worn out and dirty. But she was beaming and crying. He had to wipe his eyes as his own tears flowed once more.

  Owen stood next to Jenni and around them were gathered the survivors of Eagle’s Rest. Those that had been imprisoned and those that had fought to regain it. They formed a crescent around the burial cairn. The light was dimming, and the sun flared as it went behind the mountains to the west, their icebound tops glowing. He held Jenni’s hand, and in the other a stone. This one was for Murtagh. Those around him carried others in remembrance of their husbands, fathers, brothers and sons. Naimh had told Owen how Murtagh had died first. Stabbed in the back. She had spoken, in faltering, sorrowful words of how Gerat had ordered most of the men, all but the youngest boys and male babes, slaughtered. And how he had imprisoned the rest of them until such time as they understood how things would be. How despair must turn into obedience and with it a chance of life. Naimh had seen the faces of Gerat’s folk, had seen how they had given up, had accepted their fates.

  ‘But we are Highlanders. Men or women, there is no difference between us. We would never have given up,’ she’d said fiercely. ‘Just like you didn’t, Owen.’

  And now they gathered. All the Highlanders left in the world, for all they knew. Fewer now, but more than he could have hoped for. Owen squeezed Jenni’s hand then stepped forward to place the stone on the cairn. Another friend lost. A good man. His death would not be in vain. I swear it. He turned and made way for Naimh who touched her fingers to her lips and then placed them on Murtagh’s stone. Together they made way for the others.

  Once the act was done, he led his people back. On either side was an honour guard of Erebeshi, their faces solemn yet proud. These men and women from a faraway land, he had known them for only a short time but he knew all he needed to. They represented what was best of the old Empire. In the courtyard, Killen and Captain Rashad waited for him. The remaining members of Gerat’s people were gathered nearby, under the watchful eyes of the rest of the Erebeshi troops.

  Killen nodded a greeting.

  ‘Owen. It’s time. Your judgement?’

  Owen looked at the sullen, ragged group. They looked utterly beaten. He spotted the greybeard.

  ‘Are there any here you do not trust? Who were loyal to Gerat.’

  The greybeard glanced left and right. ‘There were some left in the hall with us. We did for them.’

  Perhaps not so defeated as he thought. ‘I told you, we cannot forget the past. I cannot and will not. And I cannot ask any of my folk to do so, but I will forgive you. You can go, or you can stay. If you stay, then every day you must try to make amends for what you let happen, what you let others do.’

  There was silence. Gerat’s folk looked at each other. Greybeard coughed and took a tentative step forward.

  ‘We will stay.’

  Owen felt his nose throb. ‘Good.’

  He turned and found Naimh studying him.

  ‘Murtagh would not have done that,’ she said.

  ‘Oh but he did. For me,’ said Owen.

  Her eyes misted and she smiled wanly.

  ‘What now, Owen?’ asked Larsen, placing his arm around Naimh.

  That question. What now? He looked into the sky, scanning the heavens in the fading orange and purple light. And there he was. His beautiful Arno, riding the last of the thermals. He looked back at his friends, at the Major and his soldiers.

  ‘I’m done skirmishing with gnomes. It’s time we took the war to someone who’ll truly remember it.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – FILLION

  Fillion entered The Silver Chalice and found his usual booth was already occupied. Kanyay grinned at him, his sharpened teeth flashing in the candlelight.

  ‘How do you do that?’ Fillion asked as he gripped Kanyay’s forearm in the traditional wood elf greeting.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Your teeth, they are so white,’ Fillion said as he settled down opposite Kanyay.

  ‘Ah, these?’ said Kanyay, rubbing a forefinger down his field canines. ‘It’s a special bark I like to chew. It has a rough edge and some kind of oil in it. Very good.’

  ‘You ever get toothache?’

  ‘Never!’

  Fillion was impressed.

  ‘I should try that.’

  ‘Come live with us awhile. I’ll show you all manner of useful things.’

  ‘I might just do that,’ said Fillion. He picked up a full mug of ale that must have been waiting for him. ‘This for me?’

  ‘Yes. It’s from home. Brought a few kegs back. Better than the grapeshit we normally have to drink!’

  ‘I missed your craziness.’ Fillion put the mug to his lips. The brew was thick and earthy. But it was good. He drank deep.

  ‘And it is good to see a Heartlander with a proper appreciation of ale.’

  ‘Did someone say ale?’ asked Marmus, pushing into Fillion’s side of the table.

  ‘Ah, our dwarf friend. And now our merry band is complete,’ said Kanyay, pushing a third mug his way.

  Marmus picked it up and drained it.

  Kanyay and Fillion shared a look. Kanyay raised a hand, gaining the attention of the barkeep. ‘Three more.’

  Fillion leaned back against the wall and looked at the dwarf. He could feel the tension radiating off him.

  ‘Friend, Marmus. Are you well?’ he asked.

  ‘No. I’m bloody not,’ replied the dwarf.

  ‘Has the capital lost its magic for you?’ asked Kanyay, his tongue firmly in cheek.

  ‘The capital can go fuck itself.’ Marmus turned to look at Fillion. ‘The mines. It happened.’

  Fillion blew loudly through his nostrils. A thrill coursed through his body.

  ‘Oh no,’ he whispered, keeping his elation buried.

  ‘What? What has happened?’ asked Kanyay, his gaze flicking between the two of them.

  ‘He might as well know. I’m speaking to Parliament first thing tomorrow morning,’ said Marmus.

  ‘Sabin?’ asked Kanyay.

  Fillion sighed loudly, letting his shoulders slump as if in defeat. ‘You know that I was sent to inspect the new workings.’

  ‘Yes, you were overjoyed at that,’ said Kanyay. Marmus scowled.

  ‘What I was sworn to keep secret was the true motivation for my visit. The dwarves of that mine had a workforce made up of human slaves.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ Kanyay’s wild eyebrows raised high, his gaze resting firmly on Marmus.

  ‘Yes, we bloody had humans,’ the dwarf growled.

  ‘And they have rebelled?’ asked Fillion.

  ‘Yes, they bloody have.’

  ‘Shit,’ whistled Kanyay. ‘And you didn’t see that coming?’

  ‘Obviously not,’ hissed Marmus.

  Three fresh mugs arrived at their table. They were shared out, and Fillion was surprised to find his first mug empty. He’d better slow down.

  ‘Go on,’ he urged.

  ‘What more can I say? I know only the barest facts because no dwarf is alive to speak of what happened.’

  ‘None?’ asked Kanyay. ‘Is that possible?’

  ‘None from the mines. But there were others from the settlements they ransacked,’ said Marmus.

  ‘Ransacked?’ Fillion feigned astonishment, acutely aware that any mass breakout would generate a tide of destruction.

  ‘The first we knew of a problem was when our canals were hit. A swarm of humans overran our trade lanes and continued on to Bar-Ras. They killed anyone who did not flee, took anything that was not fixed to the floor, and burned the rest. It was only when those who escaped dispatched a party to the mine complex that they discovered the truth. Every dwarf slaughtered.’

  ‘My life,’ said Kanyay. ‘Since when were you allowed to keep humans?’

  ‘Since we bloody wanted to!’ declared Marmus angrily. The other patrons grew silent
, the gazes resting on the booth. There would be no keeping that outburst quiet. Fillion raised a placating hand.

  ‘Peace, friend Marmus. Kanyay only asked what we all thought to be true. It does not lessen the terrible news or reduce the outrage.’

  Marmus, his face angry, reached for his mug.

  ‘Sabin speaks my words, Marmus. I feel sorrow for what has happened,’ said Kanyay.

  The dwarf sighed, and his shoulders sagged a little.

  Fillion lowered his hand, the tension lessened.

  ‘We lost hundreds of my kin,’ said Marmus. ‘Hundreds, to those bastards.’

  ‘Where are they headed?’ asked Fillion.

  ‘West. The destruction they leave in their wake is easy to follow.’

  ‘And you are hunting them, yes?’ Kanyay asked.

  ‘Aye, we dispatched a force. But that’s as much as I know. I have tasked my staff to set up relay posts so I can get word on the situation as quickly as possible. By the time I received the first message, it was already two weeks old. The dwarf council did not think the elves or their ambassador were a priority.’ Marmus looked pointedly at Fillion. It was obvious the dwarves had wanted to keep this quiet, but Fillion’s words must have given Marmus reason to tell his masters that the elves already knew.

  ‘How many humans are we talking about?’ asked Kanyay.

  ‘At least twenty thousand,’ said Marmus.

  ‘Twenty thousand ? By the Blessed Mother how did you hide that many?’ asked Kanyay, shaking his head as he buried it into his mug.

  ‘You can hide plenty within a mountain,’ said Marmus gruffly.

  Fillion decided to ask an obvious question. ‘Do any of the Members know yet?’

  ‘Aye, some do. Like they could keep their noses out of it,’ acknowledged Marmus. That meant Patiir would be fully appraised.

  ‘I’ll be in the Chamber tomorrow,’ promised Fillion.

  Marmus nodded. He put his hands around his mug, looking into its depths. ‘I’ve been told that I have a ‘diplomatic’ nature, more so than most dwarves possess. I fear it will be sorely tested tomorrow.’ He let go of the mug and stood. ‘As much as I would like to drain this place dry tonight, I think I best not. I will bid you both a safe evening.’

  ‘See you tomorrow,’ repeated Fillion.

  Marmus scrutinised him for a moment, then took his leave of them.

  ‘Diplomatic? I would hate to see what the undiplomatic ones are like,’ said Kanyay.

  Fillion smiled.

  ‘They would probably remind you of you.’

  Kanyay grinned wickedly.

  ‘I think I’ll enjoy tomorrow. It’ll be fun watching Marmus squirm. Not that I’d say that to his face.’

  ‘Best not,’ agreed Fillion.

  He glanced away to the door. This news was momentous, and he had no doubt that he’d been the instigator of the human breakout. A massive community of souls, heading back to Tissan. That they had created so much mayhem on the way only added to the sense of satisfaction he was feeling. But the question was, what would happen to them now?

  Fillion rubbed his eyes. His head ached and he felt dog-tired. Too much ale, too little sleep, thanks to his little princess, and a head full of thoughts. He was seated on one of the many balconies that studded the circumference of the Parliament chamber – the place was so full of Members that all the Servants bar those with direct responsibilities within the chamber had been banished to the wings. Which meant Kanyay, in his recognised role of a Servant rather than ambassador, was seated next to him. Marmus was finishing up. Even though he was standing on the raised podium, Fillion knew that for those at the lowest level of seating, they could barely see his head. At least the dwarf ’s voice had no problem with carry. It echoed throughout the chamber, rising in volume when needed to counter the gasps of dismay his words generated. To Marmus’s credit and Fillion’s surprise, the dwarf retained his composure, and kept his words factual, short, and to the point.

  ‘I can reassure the house that the Dwarf Nations will not allow this slight to go unanswered. We do not apologise for our decision to enslave our human captives nor do we shy away from the need to deal with the threat that they have become. That is all.’

  Marmus left the podium to whispered conversations and the odd remark of outrage and returned to his regular position, an area set off to one side from the main seating of Members.

  Kanyay nudged Fillion. ‘He didn’t do too badly, did he?’ he whispered.

  ‘He did the best he could,’ conceded Fillion.

  A number of Members indicated their desire to speak, but it was Patiir who had the privilege. At the Speaker’s invitation Patiir stood, smoothed his robes, and adjusted his belt of office. He walked slowly, towards the podium, allowing the sense of anticipation to grow. For all knew that when Patiir chose to speak on these matters, his words carried the weight of the King’s approval.

  On reaching the podium, the elf placed his hands on the railings to either side and looked out upon those gathered.

  ‘My fellow Members. My friends. I had not thought to ever speak to you again on the matter that has been put before us. I had thought that, a year ago, I would never need discuss the scourge of humanity in my lifetime. And yet, here we are. And it is a cold comfort that the reason for this is not of our making.’

  He let that hang. Fillion looked down towards Marmus. The dwarf was stock still, staring directly at Patiir. It must be taking all of his self-control. Diplomatic, like he said.

  ‘And what are we to do?’ the elf continued. ‘How do we respond to a marauding army of twenty thousand humans?’ He raised a hand. ‘And do not dissemble with the description. They may not be soldiers, but they are an army on the march. They will consume, they will lay waste. And if left unchecked, will thrive and breed. It is a fundamental fact of nature. Many, most of you, will have heard me say this before. I do not deny any species the right to exist, unless they have no means of controlling their baser instincts. Humans are one such species. And the dwarves, through their greed, their arrogance and their dissembling, have let them survive!’

  A chorus of agreement echoed around the chamber. Fillion checked Marmus again. How soon before he stood up and stalked out?

  ‘I say again. What should we do? I’ll tell you what we were going to do. Yes, I have phrased that correctly. For just a few days ago I had an audience with His Majesty. And I told him what I knew of this matter. That I had gathered intelligence. And that we must, in the strongest possible terms, demand the Dwarf Nations end this insanity. That they must kill every single one of their slave population.’ Patiir sighed heavily. ‘And now it is too late. The beast is out of the cage. The beast that should not have been allowed to live. The King has already given his consent that we should send a diplomatic mission to the Dwarf Nations. Now that Ambassador Marmus has acknowledged the threat, we must take a different tack. The dwarves say they will deal with this. That they will hunt down these humans. They have after all a vested interest in exacting some measure of vengeance for those they have lost. But,’ and he raised a pointed finger. ‘I will not stand by and do nothing.’ More cries of agreement filled the chamber. ‘And we will not rest until we are satisfied the threat is removed!’ Patiir, shouted over the din. Marmus was shaking his head. It was a slight, an insult directed squarely at the Dwarf Nations. The elves did not trust them to sort out their own mess. Fillion could see their point of view, the dwarves had bent, if not broken, their pacts. That they were the ones paying for it didn’t matter. They had proven themselves less than honourable. And for the dwarves, he understood them well enough to know that their natural stubbornness would never accept the elves interfering in their affairs. Patiir’s implicit threat to get involved would go down badly with Marmus. He would, to say the least, be royally pissed.

  Patiir left the podium, and Member Tekla took his place. Not a surprise, Fillion had been sent with a hand-written message to her house late last night. She smiled beneficently at the
seated Members as she took her position.

  ‘I wish to thank Member Patiir for his rousing words. And I wish to formally second his motion. For I believe, though he may not have said the words, that there can be no doubt, we must be involved with this endeavour. The dwarves cannot be left to deal with this alone. We must send our own forces to assist in the eradication of the human threat.’

  Again, more shouts of support amidst a sea of murmured conversations.

  ‘And there he goes,’ said Kanyay.

  Marmus stood up and disappeared through a doorway. He left the Parliament to its devices, a procession of speakers echoing their support to the elven position. Fillion had to endure it all, it would be bad form for him to leave midway through such an important debate. Patiir would notice. It was not until a uniformed elf, a general who Fillion had never had cause to meet, took the platform and promised the mobilisation of a cavalry brigade within two days, that the Parliament appeared satisfied enough to call an end to the gathering.

  Walking along the main concourse, Fillion could feel the energy that the meeting had generated. It was palpable in the way everyone carried themselves, the excited, urgent conversations. There was clearly nothing like a good slaughter to get these bastards going. He ought to be heading straight back to his own office but instead he continued on past, checking quickly to see if Patiir had returned. His door was shut. The elf was no doubt delayed by a host of colleagues wishing to share their support. He hurried on, heading further along the wide, sweeping corridor to arrive at the suite of offices belonging to Member Tekla. More ostentatious than many others he had seen, she had two extra Servants working for her, and subsequently the size of the room could swallow Fillion’s own modest atrium three times. Long sofas trailed one wall and ended with a table adorned with bowls of fruit, and bottles of water and wine. Vines and flowers studded the walls and sunlight filtered in from several openings. Fillion always expected to hear harps playing from some hidden recess. Fortunately, the only occupant was Ezra. He smiled and stood up from his desk when Fillion knocked on the open door.