by Mike Truk
I didn’t stop. “Why not?”
“You’ll give your king troll nature away for one. Terrify the nobility. Perhaps cause Beauhammer to arrest you and throw you in his dungeon like he did Iris for public execution. Do I need to go on?”
I stopped by the front door and rested my brow against the paneled wood. Fuck but I was tired.
Cerys placed her hands on my shoulders. “I know you want to get her back as quickly as possible. But you said it yourself. We need to be careful.”
“I’m such a fool,” I said, closing my eyes as self-loathing arose within me. “This is my fault. All of this.”
“We could have played this better, yes. But Gremond’s an obviously canny foe. We underestimated him and his vengefulness.” She stepped in closer, sliding an arm around my waist. “But now it’s our turn to show just how canny we can be.”
I turned to face her. The horror of what had happened washed over me again. Without Iris we’d all be dead by now. Having her and Pony on my team had made me sloppy. Overconfident. Tamara and Yashara had paid that price. “You’re right. I’ll get a new suit of clothes from Iris. A heavy cloak. Wash my face and hair. Then we’ll go.”
Cerys leaned in and kissed my brow. “Yes. Then we’ll go get our pound of flesh.”
I stepped in and hugged her. For a moment we simply stood silent in the grand hallway, and then I stepped back.
“Oh shit,” I said, looking down at the blood I’d left gleaming down her front. “I’m sorry. I just left copious amounts of gore all over you.”
Cerys gazed down at the blood. “How are you still standing?”
I touched my wounds. They’d filmed over with flesh already, and though I felt that same hot liquidy wrongness within me, it was starting to fade. “Being a king troll has its benefits,” I said. “I’ve never healed this fast. Maybe the blood is getting stronger.”
Cerys’ gaze was equivocal. “Guess it’s working for us right now.”
“Guess so,” I said, stepping back. “Let me clean up. I’ll be right back, and then we can get started on freeing Yashara and teaching this Gremond the same hard lessons we taught the Family.”
Chapter 16
Cerys and I dismounted as we reached Beauhammer’s castle entrance. I knew I shouldn’t have been surprised, but the celebrations were still in full swing; what had taken place down by the docks had provided but a moment’s diversion, apparently, and little more. Returning the horse to its surprised owner, I pulled my heavy cloak closer about my body, pinching it at the neck, and then extended my arm for Cerys to loop hers through it and so lead her into the bailey.
How long had I been gone? It felt like hours, but clearly it had been far less. People weren’t even leaving yet, and the music filtering forth from the great hall was in full swing, the violins and fiddles and whatever else now playing what were clearly meant to be dancing songs.
Perhaps it was the blood loss. Or the lingering pain from my now healed wounds and wounded lung. Perhaps it was simply the aftershock of so much unexpected violence. But the great hall looked decidedly surreal as I stepped back inside. The merriment and laughter sounded discordant after the screams and bloody work of battle. Where before I’d been mildly curious and cautiously hopeful as I’d entered this place, now I felt a cold, iron fury.
I’d been tricked. Gremond had smiled at me even as his men had moved to torch the Bonegwayne. He’d tried to kill my friends. Had ruined Maestria. Had played his very best hand in his attempt to defeat me, and come up short.
It was my turn.
Elsa was easily visible to one side, surrounded by eager listeners as she gaily recounted some story or another. Beauhammer was holding court from his throne, leaning forward, huge tankard in hand, bear mask shoved up on his brow as he listened with obvious impatience as another lord spoke their piece. The Port Gloom crew was absent. The White Suns were gone as well.
Anxiously, I continued to study the crowd. I didn’t know what I’d do if Gremond and his son were still here. I felt a vast and inchoate potential for unreasonable violence. I hoped they were gone, that I’d not be tempted into something irrevocable. Yet I also itched to show them my face, to grin as I spat in their eye.
But… no. The Nautilus company was also missing.
Cerys pulled me forward, and I matched her pace, moving through the crowd which glanced askance at us, surprised by our rough clothing, lack of masks, and dour demeanors. No matter. They were of no consequence. We reached the edge of Elsa’s circle, and when she caught sight of us her expression flashed from joyful recognition to confusion to concern to false easy amusement once more, all of it so quick that I was barely able to discern the difference.
“Excuse me, dear friends,” she said, lifting her skirt so as to step through the crowd toward us. “Excuse me.” She looped her arm through my own as she pulled me away, still wearing a smile of easy gaiety, but her whisper was strained. “Kellik? What’s happened? Why are you - is that blood?”
I followed her gaze to her elbow-length glove. Fortunately, it was black, but still the gleaming stain where she’d pressed it against me was undisguisable.
“Some, yes.” I waited till we’d found a relatively quiet corner, and turning my back to the crowd so nobody could read my lips I took hold of Elsa’s hand and squeezed. “Nautilus has moved against us. They’ve burned the Bonegwayne and attacked my crew. We drove them off, but they’ve taken Yashara and injured Tamara badly.”
Elsa’s smile grew stiff, her eyes widening for but a moment before she relaxed and tilted her head to one side, smile returning as if I were recounting an amusing tale. “You’re sure it was them?”
“Absolutely. Gremond all but danced when I met his eye after the news about the Bonegwayne was announced. Who else could send twenty assassins after us? Who else could have motive?”
Elsa reached up to brush her fingertips against the shaven side of her head, eyes narrowing in thought. “One of your rival teams? No. You haven’t even been announced yet. The White Sun has no idea. You’re right. The Fever Dream and insult you did to Naveric. What now? We’re supposed to start delving tomorrow at dawn.”
I really, really appreciated her not going through the whole I told you so routine.
Cerys stood by my other side, scanning the crowd with apparent disinterest. Good. She’d watch out backs. I could focus on Elsa exclusively. “We need you to open negotiations with Gremond. We’re going to demonstrate just how badly they’ve fucked up tomorrow by sending a small force to attack their compound.”
“Attack - you’re mad. The compound is heavily fortified. Several hundred men work there, many of them professional soldiers who are ready at any moment to put down a goblin rebellion. The walls, the gates - what force are you going to send? It will be crushed.”
“Let us worry about that. I’m sure our message will be made, loud and clear. You need to tell them that unless they return Yashara to us, we’ll send a much larger force after that one to level the compound completely. But it’s not all stick. We’ll offer a thousand gold crowns in exchange for Yashara’s release and an unconditional apology for the insult done to Naveric.” I paused, searching Elsa’s face. “That should be more than enough to convince him to let Yashara go.”
“And if she’s dead?” asked Elsa. “If he’s already killed her?”
I felt a fist tighten around my heart. “If he’s killed her, then he’s a dead man, and I’ll destroy the Nautilus company if it’s the last thing I do.”
Elsa slowly shook her head in wonderment. “I know you’ve a war troll, and lead a dangerous team, but we’re talking a small private army here, operating behind heavily fortified walls, who are constantly prepared for trouble. You must have some magical means to destroy them. Is one of your crew an archmagi, or…?”
“Like I said, let me worry about that. Our message will be very pointed. But assuming I’m not mad. Assuming I make good on my threat tomorrow. Do you think Gremond will capitulate?”
Elsa’s smile flickered, disappearing as she frowned only to reappear a second later as she caught herself. “Perhaps. Probably. If you can prove yourself that serious a threat, he won’t risk everything over Yashara. Yes.”
“Good. Then deliver that message through whatever channel you think best. We want Yashara released, unharmed, immediately after my second, larger force reveals itself. If she’s not freed by dusk, we’ll annihilate him.”
“What of the delve?” Elsa reached out with her other hand to take my arm. “My father will be opening the gate to the ruins at dawn. The other teams have already retired so as to rest and prepare. Are you no longer planning to go?”
I pulled my arm free. “Tamara is unconscious. Yashara is kidnapped. We’re hurt. Can’t we ask your father to allow us in the next day?”
Elsa shook her head. “You don’t understand. He’s got a large ceremony planned. It’s the highlight of his year. He’s begun to see these ruins as his financial future, and the opening of the gate and entering of the teams is the pivotal moment in what’s become a grand campaign to draw ever wealthier investors and more qualified teams. No. He will insist on everyone taking part in the pageantry. If you miss tomorrow’s event, you won’t get to go in until next year. Which, if you scorn his discretionary license, I can guarantee you won’t be given it again.”
I scowled and hung my head.
Elsa pressed on. “You’ve apparently got enough strength to flatten the Nautilus compound. Which means you can tackle whatever is below the castle. We’ll go in, make our strike on the White Sun, extract whatever we need, and then collect Yashara and flee to the harbor.”
I rolled my shoulders. My body felt like a leather sack in which a dozen bottles had been broken with a club. All achy and sore and with strange shafts of burning pain where blades had slid into me. “How are you going to negotiate with Nautilus if you’re going in with us?”
“I’ll do it tonight,” she replied immediately. “I’ll press your case. Can your mage launch their attack from within the ruins?”
I shared a look with Cerys. “Probably?”
“Then think of it this way: instead of waiting around tomorrow for Gremond to make his decision, and by doing so lose everything you’ve been struggling to accomplish, take advantage of the license, strike at the White Suns, acquire our treasure and then escape with Yashara when we emerge. And if Gremond refuses your demands? Then level the Nautilus compound, rescue Yashara, and flee with our stolen treasure instead of without it. Because come what may, by this time tomorrow you’ll be the most wanted man in all of Port Lusander.”
I ground the heel of my palm into my eye. What I wouldn’t do to consider this matter after a night’s rest! My thoughts felt like they were wearing boots and wading through knee-high mud.
“Give us a moment,” I said.
Elsa curtsied and stepped away.
Cerys joined me against the wall, where we both crossed our arms and scanned the crowd. A dance had begun, all formal and complex, the nobles tracing bizarre patterns around each other as they dipped and spun and laughed.
“What do you think?” I fought down the urge to grab a goblet of wine.
“She has a point,” said Cerys, “much as I hate to admit it. If we don’t enter the ruins tomorrow, we’ll apparently lose the chance to ever do so. If we then are forced to destroy Gremond, we’ll have to leave Port Lusander altogether, and our struggles here will have been for nothing.”
“But attack the ruins without Tamara and Yashara?” I was starting to feel hemmed in on all sides by the great hall, the music too loud, the laughter too grating. “Without our healer and tactician?”
Cerys scowled. “I know. I’m not happy about it. But we’ve still got Pony and Iris. Add in Netherys’ weird magics and fortune hexing, and my gloom bow, and we’re still a force to be reckoned with.”
“Right. Right.” I closed my eyes and fought for a moment of stillness. To quiet my thoughts, to simple be with the decision and intuit what we should do. “Damn Gremond. Damn his overblown response. The Hanged God take him and unsleeve his bones. Damn him.”
“Yes, agreed,” said Cerys curtly. “And?”
“And?” I blew out my cheeks and opened my eyes. “Maybe Elsa’s right. Everything we’ve fought for will have been a waste if we miss tomorrow’s entrance. It’s our one chance to score enough gold to make things right with Maestria. To pay off my debt to the Mailed Fist. To learn more about myself so that I can even the odds with my father.”
“And there’s nothing we can do while we wait for Gremond’s response,” said Cerys. “We might as well spend that time looting a crypt.”
“Yeah.” I stared with dull, frustrated anger at the dancing nobles. “Yeah. All right. Then I guess we’ll do it. We’ll hit the White Suns while Iris sends her undead to teach Gremond fear. We’ll stipulate that Yashara is to be released once we send more undead for her. That’ll allow us to make sure she’s released when we’re ready and not before.”
“What if Iris dies?” Cerys’ voice was all business.
“Then we’re fucked. Without her right now I don’t know what we’ll do. We’ll have to protect her. She asked if she’d be able to take her family down with her into the ruins.”
“Her undead family?” Cerys shivered. “Did you hear her? That she was… sleeping with them? After clothing them?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to know. Right now, I don’t have the luxury of making judgement calls about Iris and her family relations. But we can ask Elsa how many servants we can bring below with us.”
“So we’re doing this,” said Cerys, turning to face me and taking my hand. “We’ve decided.”
I hesitated, torn, but then gave a sharp nod. “Yes. I don’t know if it’s our final mistake or our first right call, but we can’t risk losing everything we’ve fought for. We’ll do what we can to liberate Yashara, we’ll make sure Tamara is safe, and we’ll hit the White Suns as hard and quickly as we can. Then we collect our friends, head down to the harbor, and get out of Port Lusander as quickly as we can.”
“About that. Can we trust Elsa with the ship?”
“I’m thinking it’s time we pressed our claim on the Filthy Spume. You still have the deed or whatever in your satchel?”
Cerys nodded. “Along with most of Elias’ other papers.”
“Then that’ll be our play. Elsa!”
Beauhammer’s daughter had been chatting lightly with an older couple, and with a laugh and curtsy she disengaged herself and walked over. “You know, Kellik, I’m ostensibly an important noblewoman. Not that I care, but yelling for me like a servant in front of the entire elite of Port Lusander will raise eyebrows that could lead to complicated questions.”
“Whatever. We’ve agreed. We’ll enter the ruins tomorrow at dawn as long as you execute our negotiations before then. Tell Gremond that we’ll be sending a second detachment to collect Yashara by tomorrow evening. If she’s not released, the third group will level his compound to the ground.”
“I hope you’re able to back up these threats,” she said. “Gremond is hard to impress, and this kind of language is so overblown that I’m worried he’ll just laugh.”
“Let him laugh. He’ll stop as soon as the first group arrives. Question. How many servants can we take below with us?”
“Into the ruins? Servants?” Elsa’s confusion was evident. “What are you talking about?”
“Simple question. Will Beauhammer object if we bring down staff? How many can we get away with?”
“I’ve no idea. Teams are usually only six to eight strong. I can ask him, but can guess that he’ll disapprove of the idea. He’ll see it as an indirect form of cheating. What’s to stop future teams from swelling their ranks so as to acquire overwhelming force?”
“What’s wrong with that?” asked Cerys.
“He wants to milk these ruins for as long as he can,” said Elsa. “Sending down huge teams will shorten for how long the ruins rem
ain viable. But I’ll ask. If our team is now down to Pony, Iris, Netherys, yourselves, and me, then I’d guess he’d allow three or four servants.” She hesitated. “But seriously, why are you bringing servants? Trap fodder?”
“Something like that. Let us know. When will you reach out to Gremond?”
“He left shortly after you did. I assume to return to his compound. I’ll send a messenger now advising him that I’m about to arrive, and will set out after bidding my goodbyes here. How can I reach you?”
“You can’t,” I said. “We’ll meet you at dawn. Where’s the ceremony being held?”
“The far side of our hill,” said Elsa. “Halfway down are the remains of an entrance. My father had it cleaned up, the rubble and boulders removed, and now there’s a substantial porch of sorts outside the great gate he had installed. Everyone will gather there, and the teams will draw lots to see in which order they’ll enter. Once you go in, you can stay inside for as long as you like, but can’t return once you leave.”
“Fine. Tomorrow at dawn. If you’ve negotiated with Gremond and secured passage out, we’ll proceed with the plan as discussed.”
“Excellent,” said Elsa. “Thank you, Kellik. I know this isn’t easy. But it really is our one chance.”
“You could try again next year,” said Cerys dryly.
“By then I might be wedded to Naveric,” said Elsa. “I’d rather die.”
“Dawn then.” I drew myself up. “If all goes well we’ll see you then.”
“Dawn,” said Elsa. “The White Suns won’t know what hit them.”
* * *
Dawn was breaking far over the swamps beyond Beauhammer Hill as I led my friends along the broad and obviously new path that had been carved around its circumference about halfway up to the castle. The magistrate had spared no expense in his bid for pomp and circumstance, such that white bricks lined the outer edge of the path, with a lantern hanging from a stout pole every ten yards to illuminate the way for those who had arrived during the pre-dawn hours. Beneath each lantern hung a small blue flag with the gold Port Lusander trident boldly displayed, in case anybody should forget where they were and who was hosting this event.