Soldiers of Avarice

by Stephen L. Nowland

  “For once, you’re making sense,” Colt stated, without enthusiasm for this admission.

  “There’s something I never thought I’d hear you say,” Pacian remarked.

  “Shut up, the both of you,” Aiden sighed. “We get it, already. Just … be quiet for a while.”

  “You’re such a problem for us, sometimes,” Nellise mumbled, disappointed. “You could have just knocked him out, Pace. I would have preferred he stand trial for his crimes.”

  “Hey, remember what happened back in that Akoran cave?” Pacian reminded her. “That’s what happens when you let bad people get away with bad things: good people die for no reason. I’m not ever going to let that happen again, even if I have to bathe in a sea of blood.”

  Nellise looked directly into his eyes and fondly ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair. “Oh, Pacian, how can you be such a monster and be so endearing at the same time?” she breathed. “Whatever am I going to do with you?”

  He didn’t have a reply for that, and simply leaned his head tiredly against her shoulder.

  Epilogue

  Militia archers stationed behind the wall opened the gate for Aiden and his companions as they approached. Many of the buildings were on fire, with citizens rushing through the streets with buckets of water attempting to control the blaze. The Seaspray Inn hadn’t been spared, with several of its walls on fire and most of the roof caved in. The sounds of fighting could still be heard off in the distance, lending a grim ambience to the devastated surroundings.

  They headed for the church, which was filled with wounded soldiers and civilians alike, and half a dozen young clerics doing their utmost to tend to the injured. Although plying their ministrations as quickly as they could, unmoving bodies covered in blankets nearby indicated they were not always successful.

  Aiden slowly sat against the wall with the others, his mind barely active as the rush of the situation surrounding them breezed past. Nellise set about setting his broken arm in a splint and bandaging up the worst of their injuries, then collapsed alongside Aiden, her own injuries getting the better of her.

  Nearly an hour later, the sounds of fighting subsided, and subdued cheering could be heard coming from the streets outside. The forces of the Crown seemed to have been victorious at last.

  “It’s over,” Aiden whispered, drawing a brief nod of acknowledgement from Criosa, who had sat down next to him. Considering the devastation, it seemed a hollow victory.

  Shortly afterwards, a blood-spattered Sergeant Ariel entered through the large double doors, helped along by one of her corporals, who followed her directions and half-carried her to one of the pews in front of Aiden. The corporal helped her to sit, and then the sergeant waved him away, leaning upon her bloodied sword as one would a cane.

  “Good morning, Mister Wainwright,” she said, the strain evident in her raspy voice. “I’m sorry the town is such a mess; we’ve had a few problems. A hundred of them, to be exact. But my men tell me you and your friends had a hand in taking the pressure off our eastern flank?”

  “We needed to get the princess back into town, and they were in the way,” Aiden explained with a weak voice.

  Ariel blinked in surprise and glanced around at the others until she laid eyes upon Criosa, who smiled wanly back at the sergeant. “Good God, is that you, Highness? I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you, looking so…”

  “Tattered? It’s all right, Sergeant; I feel better than I look, thanks to Aiden and his companions.”

  “Glad I was able to assist,” Aiden whispered modestly.

  “And so self-effacing, too,” Criosa remarked with a faint smile. “I might have use for you in Fairloch, if you’re interested.”

  Aiden’s tired brain didn’t quite grasp what she was saying for a few seconds, but the implications were far-reaching. “I’ll have to think about it,” he mumbled, somewhat dumbfounded.

  “Aiden, the princess asked you to serve the Crown,” Colt pointed out. “The appropriate response is ‘Yes, Your Highness, I would be honored.’”

  “I think he’s waiting to hear how much he’s going to get paid,” Pacian confided.

  “That reminds me, there’s something else I found,” Aiden interrupted, pulling out the folded note he had retrieved from Bartlett’s body. “Ronald Bartlett had this on him when he met an unfortunate end. It is addressed to him.”

  Ariel took the proffered note and read it aloud. “It says, ‘Find Commander Black and convey my displeasure to him concerning the handling of his duties thus far. I expect my money’s worth from this deal, and if he and his band of half-wits are unable to perform as expected, I shall have them join the king in his bloody campaign in the west.’ It is signed ‘Number One’. How cryptic.”

  “Captain Marshald said that someone was making a move against the Crown, and your kidnapping was probably the first step,” Aiden said to Criosa. “Bartlett was a big name locally, but he was taking orders from someone else. Have you made any enemies of late?”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” she replied, her eyes wide at the thought of a conspiracy against her.

  “Being that you’re the only heir to the throne, are you due to be married to someone of note?” Aiden asked.

  “Some names have been floated, but nothing is certain yet,” Criosa responded.

  “Perhaps this is a reason behind your kidnapping. Control you, and someone else can control the throne,” Aiden warned, which did nothing to calm her down.

  “The script is very elegant,” Ariel noted, handing the letter to Criosa. “Do you recognize the handwriting?”

  “No; it doesn’t seem familiar, although that’s hardly conclusive,” she mused after a brief examination. “It does look like the writing of a well-educated individual, certainly. Perhaps one of the lords hired the Steel Tigers to kidnap me, and used Bartlett as a liaison?”

  “It’d cost a hell of a lot of money to hire a mercenary army,” Colt grunted. “But none of this explains why they attacked the town. And who in his right mind would bring in a bloody dragon to help, anyway?”

  “Maybe they got greedy and wanted to loot the place on the way through,” Pacian remarked cynically.

  “This is an outrage,” Criosa breathed. “The sheer scale of this entire operation … it’s bad enough to attempt to kidnap a member of the royal family, but to slaughter innocents in the process? I must go to Fairloch and get to the bottom of this, and hold the culprits accountable.”

  “That would be extremely dangerous, Highness,” Aiden warned.

  “Not with you and your companions there to protect me, it wouldn’t,” Criosa replied with a wink. “And you’ll be suitably rewarded for your efforts here today, and in the future, I assure you.”

  “We accept,” Pacian quickly answered for him.

  “I ... yes, I suppose so,” Aiden managed to agree. “Before we get to that, I have one question, sarge. I saw what looked like a large metal spear drop from the dragon’s body on the way past. What was that?”

  “We can thank Captain Sir Denholm Sherrard, of His Majesty’s ship Redoubtable, for that,” Ariel explained. “The ship arrived yesterday morning, stopping by for supplies and repairs on its way back to Fairloch from the war zone. They have some sort of special ordnance that catches fire on impact. I doubt the flames did anything to a monster like that, but the ballista bolts they use have very sharp tips and are propelled at speed.”

  “Excuse me a moment; I think the Archioness wants to speak with me,” Nellise said. She slowly stood and began gingerly making her way over to speak with the head of the local church, whose white robe was stained with blood and ash.

  “Which leads me to another issue,” Ariel continued. “That dragon was reported heading for the Stonegaard mountains, and until I can confirm that the road is safe, I’m going to have to prohibit travel along the highway until further notice. All supplies will have to come and go by ship.”

  “I need to get to Fairloch, as soon as possible,” Criosa sai
d.

  “I’m sure Captain Sir Denholm will be happy to provide you with transportation. I will advise him to travel north for a day or two before heading east, in order to ensure you do not pass too closely to the coast in the area I suspect the dragon to be.”

  “A sea voyage would be acceptable,” Criosa agreed.

  “With your leave, Highness, I will speak with the captain and make arrangements for you and your entourage to be taken aboard the Redoubtable.”

  “Of course; I will be here when you have news,” Criosa replied absently.

  Ariel nodded, then slowly limped out of the church, glaring at a soldier who threatened to offer help. Aiden turned to Sayana, who had been silent through all of this.

  “You haven’t said a word since we arrived,” Aiden observed. “I was curious what your next move was. I know you have your doubts about me, but you’ve been invaluable help over the past few weeks, and I, for one, would be sorry to see you leave.”

  “Where else would I go?” she asked simply. “I have enough coin to stay here for years if I wanted, but I do not feel comfortable in a town with so many people. I have no desire to return to my previous existence, either, and until Morik Far-Eagle asserts his authority and makes some changes, I can’t go back there.”

  “Please come with us,” Criosa asked earnestly. “You’re such a fascinating person, and I’d like to pick your brain about your magical training.”

  “I will come, if you wish it,” Sayana answered hesitantly, then smiled as Criosa’s face lit up at the prospect.

  Nellise rejoined them at that moment, with a puzzled expression on her face. “After surviving our journey to Akora, you may recall that I said I was going to stay in Culdeny after this was over,” she said, as she sat on the pew recently vacated by Ariel. Her voice was flat and emotionless.

  “Yes, and I perfectly understand your reasons for doing so,” Aiden replied.

  “I just spoke with the Archioness, and once she learned the princess had requested we accompany her to Fairloch, she virtually ordered me to go. She says it is providence I was with you during all of this, and as one of the acolytes gifted with healing, it is my duty to go with you.”

  “I’m blessed to have you by my side,” Criosa responded, her eyes lighting up like a child about to receive a gift.

  “Promise me that there will be much less excitement when we get there,” Nellise begged.

  “A conspiracy is afoot to topple the royal family, and all our lives could be at risk,” Pacian summarized. “I’m sure it’ll be boring and uneventful.”

  “Part of the reason is that my novitiate is officially over, and I have been granted the title of Sarient of the Order of the Resolute Herald, and this must be ratified at the Cathedral in Fairloch by the Hierarchy,” she continued, her voice showing no strong feelings for any of it.

  “Congratulations,” Aiden offered. “You earned it, though I have the feeling most acolytes don’t have such an arduous education.”

  Nellise said nothing, and merely bowed her head and wrapped her arms around herself as tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

  Several minutes later, as Aiden and his companions headed for the door, an influx of people entered the already-crowded church. Several men and women, wearing the colors of the Royal Rangers, were bringing in wounded.

  “I’ll walk you out, and then I’ll stay and help out my mates around here,” Colt said, drawing an exchange of looks among Aiden’s companions.

  “You’re not coming with us to Fairloch?” Aiden asked.

  “Ships and I don’t get along, Aiden,” Colt explained as they made their way outside. Smoke from recently-doused flames hung in the streets on the still-foggy morning. “I don’t fancy spending the better half of this week with my head over the side.”

  “I guess this is goodbye, then,” Aiden told him, feeling strange about this rude, offensive man who had somehow, over the course of the past month, become one of his friends.

  “Don’t start crying, Aiden, you’ll look weak in front of the women.”

  “I wasn’t…”

  “I’m joking, mate,” Colt grinned, offering Aiden his hand. “You’ve done all right, kid. If you’re ever in the area, stop by and we’ll have a beer together.”

  “You know something, Dante?” Aiden remarked with a small smile. “You’re all right yourself.”

  “Take care of yourself,” Nellise said quietly. “I’ve never embraced anyone while wearing armor before, so I’ll spare you the pain.”

  “I appreciate that,” Colt grunted. “You got anything to say to me, Sy? You look like you do, but you’re keeping quiet.”

  “I’m not burdened by armor,” she replied softly, coming forward to embrace Colt fondly, the big man’s bulk all but obscuring her slender form in the process.

  “I’ll pass on the hug,” Pacian said to Colt, dryly. “Unless you really can’t help yourself.”

  “None of that for you,” Colt growled at him. “I think I’ve gotten to know you pretty well, these past few weeks, and I don’t like what I see.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Pacian replied defensively.

  “You’re a hard man, Pace. You’ve killed more than one man in cold blood right in front of my eyes. Maybe that’s what the situation demanded, and maybe it ain’t, but to me, you’re almost as bad as the bastards we fought.”

  “I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Pacian remarked, looking around at the others in disbelief. “I killed murderers and traitors, I did it really well, and I’m not apologizing for it.”

  Colt leaned in close, and the next words he spoke were barely audible. “The others may not see who you really are, but you’re not fooling me. If I hear that you’ve hurt Nellise in any way, I’ll hunt you down and kill you myself.”

  “I would never hurt her,” Pacian growled back in a harsh whisper, “but if it came to it, one way or another, you’re welcome to try.”

  “Enough bluster; we can hear you, you know,” Sayana interrupted, her arms crossed and a stern expression on her face.

  “We’re done here,” Colt replied, as if nothing had happened. “I hope your trip to the capital is smooth, but at this time of year, I think you might be regretting the decision to go by sea. Farewell.”

  They waved goodbye to the big ranger as he headed over to a nearby damaged house and set about assisting a small group of people pulling valuables out of the wreckage. Culdeny had been hit hard by the attack, but Aiden knew they’d rebuild and life would go on.

  On the way to the pier, his hand strayed into a pouch on his belt and absently touched the small metal cube he’d recovered from the depths of Ferrumgaard, forgotten amongst the more pressing matters of recent events. Idly, Aiden withdrew it and looked at it from all sides, uncertain if it really meant anything, and was even worth the effort they’d gone to.

  As he was about to shove it back into his pouch, his thumb must have squeezed something along the cube’s side, for a tiny hatch clicked open on one side, revealing a dark aperture lined with runes scrawled in the same language he’d seen on the crystal sphere he’d broken long ago.

  Aiden came to a standstill, oblivious to the world around him as he stared at this discovery, slowly coming to the dim realization that there was far more to this box than met the eye.

  About the Author

  Stephen L. Nowland resides in Frankston, Australia, where he spends his time creating stories, games and art to astound and entertain.

  http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/sln

  Further information on this novel and upcoming titles can be found at his website, and you can follow his progress on Facebook and Twitter.

  https://www.facebook.com/stephenlnowland

  www.stephenlnowland.com.au

  @stephennowland

  The Aielund Saga

  Soldiers of Winter

  Soldiers of Avarice

  Soldiers of the Crown

  Soldiers of Ruin

&nbs
p; Soldiers of Legend

  Soldiers of Tyranny

  Soldiers of the Heavens

  Other titles by the same author

  The Ballard Trilogy

  In the Wake of War

  The Fortress of Gold

  Upon the Ashes of Empire