Inferno

by Paul J Bennett

  "Have you never seen a turnip before?" asked Athgar.

  "Of course. We ate them all the time back in the Volstrum, but I've never seen the plant they come from."

  "The yellow flower is quite distinctive," he continued. "And we can eat them raw if we have to, though I much prefer to cook them, given a choice. There's some more to your left."

  "I'll gather what I can while you cook this lot. We can take the rest with us."

  * * *

  By noon the sun was out again, drying the ground, but the air had turned cooler since the storm, threatening flakes of snow. Athgar decided to use his spell of warmth to ward off the chilly air. They made good progress, and by late afternoon they again searched for a decent place to camp.

  The first sign of the village was when Natalia tripped, her foot catching on something beneath the long grass. Further investigations soon revealed burned-out timbers, the remnants of a hut that had since been overgrown with weeds. As they moved eastward, the evidence of a lost settlement became more unmistakable with entire wall sections coming into sight.

  "We're in a village," said Natalia. "At least it used to be one."

  "This must be Ashborne," said Athgar. "Raleth talked of it if you recall. It was burned down five years ago."

  "That puts us close to Runewald, doesn't it? Why didn't we notice this on the way to Ebenstadt?"

  "We must have been farther north when we passed by. Let's have a quick look around, shall we?"

  Natalia halted. "Over here," she called out. "I found something."

  Athgar hobbled over to her, casting his eyes down as he approached. Skeletal remains lay at her feet, the shattered skull evidence of its manner of death. He fought back his disgust. "What kind of person leaves the dead unburied?"

  Natalia was looking at the distant timbers of the burned-out huts. "This was no battle," she said. "It was a massacre."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  "There's another body over there," she said, "as if they were running to escape." She moved closer, nodding her head, Athgar soon joining her.

  "Look at the skull," she continued. "What do you notice?"

  "It's damaged, much like the other one. What of it?"

  "If you look closer, you'll see the head was hit from behind, much like the first remains we found. This body looks smaller, likely a woman in her younger years. If I'm right, we'll find others in the same condition."

  "So someone chased them away?"

  "I imagine there was a fight somewhere, likely on the outskirts of the village. Their defence probably crumbled, and a general rout commenced. It appears horsemen picked off these people. See how the wound is high up on the back of the head?"

  "The work of Temple Knights?" said Athgar.

  "Either that or the auxiliaries. Did you say it was burned five years ago?"

  "That's what Raleth said, why?"

  "That would coincide with the second crusade. The Church proclaimed it a great victory, but I don't remember hearing of this type of thing. In any event, there's little we can do about it now. We must find somewhere to settle down for the night."

  The farther east they went, the better the condition of the ruins until they found what could only have been the chieftain's hall. The roof was missing, the very tops of the walls showing burned timbers, but the walls themselves were mostly intact, offering shelter from the wind, if not the sky.

  "This looks as good a place as any," said Athgar. "We'll build a camp against the north wall. That seems to be the dominant direction from which the wind is coming."

  They gathered firewood, ignoring the need for kindling. Soon the fire was ablaze, started by Athgar's magic. A small pile of logs sat nearby, ready to feed the flames when needed.

  Athgar buried the turnips into the ash to cook them as the logs burned down. Then they were once more biting into the soft white flesh, careful not to burn themselves. Athgar was just about to finish off his first bulb when he paused.

  "What's the matter?" asked Natalia.

  "I think I heard something," he replied. They both sat in silence, straining to discern what might be moving about.

  "I don't hear anything," whispered Natalia.

  "Nor do I, and that worries me. Even the insects are quiet. Someone, or something, is out there." He waved his hand at the fire, using words of power to plunge them into darkness.

  "Here, take my knife," he whispered, handing it to her. He then picked up his bow, standing to string it, his back leaning against the north wall.

  The snap of a twig off to the east echoed throughout the ruins. Athgar quickly nocked an arrow. He could definitely hear more movement now, skirting the edge of the ruins. Could the army have caught up to them? He chided himself for the thought, for if it were true, they would have been making far more noise. Who then, or better yet, what was making those sounds?

  He moved to the east wall, peering through a crack to look beyond. There must have been a small clearing on the other side of the trees, for a faint light illuminated the area.

  "Stay here," he whispered.

  "I don't think so," Natalia replied. "You're the injured one, remember? You need me."

  "Very well, follow me."

  He made his way back out of the ruined hut, Natalia following, and then they turned south, skirting the edge of the ruins, heading towards the light.

  In the dark of the night, the campfire stood out like a beacon. All they needed to do was look upward to where the tall pines were lit from beneath. As they drew closer, noises drifted towards them, sounds that made Athgar sigh in relief.

  "What is it?" she asked, her voice low.

  "Orcs," said Athgar. "A hunting party by the sounds of it." He rose from his crouch, calling out in the tongue of the Orcs. "Hello?"

  They were greeted by the scurrying of feet, and then an arrow whipped past, burying its head into a nearby tree.

  "Who goes there?" called out a familiar voice.

  "Kragor, is that you? It's me, Athgar!"

  An Orc stood, revealing himself, a powerful warbow held in his mighty grip. Athgar held out his hand, conjuring a green flame to light the area.

  "It is good to see you, my friend," the Orc replied. "We had not expected you back so soon."

  "What are you doing here?" asked Natalia.

  "We are keeping watch," said Kragor, switching to the common tongue, "to warn the others when the army is spotted. Have you brought us news?"

  They moved forward, Natalia leading. The group of Orc hunters returned to their fire, no longer on the alert.

  "The army is moving"—she shifted to a spot in front of the flames—"and is no more than two or three days behind us."

  "Was Kargen successful?" asked Athgar.

  "I do not know," said Kragor. "I, and my hunters, have been out here for the last three days. When we left Ord-Ghadrak, he and Shaluhk had not yet returned." He watched as Athgar lowered himself to the ground. "You are injured. We must get you to Laghul."

  "No," said Athgar. "We need to return to Runewald first. I have to convince King Eadred to stand and fight."

  "That will be difficult to do from what I have heard."

  "Why?"

  "He has gathered the fyrd," replied the Orc.

  "Surely that means he intends to fight?"

  "I think not, my friend. He means only to guard the way eastward, crossing into Orc lands."

  "Then we shall have to convince him otherwise."

  "How do we do that?" asked Natalia. "He already tried to kill us once. Who's to say he won't try again?"

  "He tried to kill you?" asked Kragor.

  "Yes, did Kargen not tell you? He sent his men to murder us in our sleep, but we got wind of it and set up our own ambush."

  "Then perhaps it is best if we accompany you back to Runewald. Your words will have more sway with the power of the tribes behind you."

  "I can't ask that of you. This is my fight."

  "No," said Kragor. "You and Nat-Alia are part of the Red Han
d. A fight for one is a fight for all. Let us stand beside you in your time of need."

  "It couldn't hurt," offered Natalia.

  "I suppose you're right," said Athgar. "Very well, we shall strike out for Runewald at first light."

  "A good decision," said the Orc, "and one which I know Kargen would approve of."

  "What of your responsibilities here?" asked Natalia. "Didn't you say you were sent to watch for the army?"

  "I did, but I did not mention there are others like us in the area. Both our tribe and the Black Axe are watching for the enemy. Do not fear. I shall inform them of our imminent departure, and they will cover this stretch of ground in our absence. In the meantime, you should get some rest. Have you eaten?"

  "Only turnips," said Natalia.

  Kragor laughed in the low rumble of his people. "Then you shall have meat. I can not have you travel to Runewald on an empty stomach. Now, what of your wound, Athgar? Does it pain you?"

  "It does," the Therengian replied. "And my armpit is sore from using this crutch."

  The Orc moved closer, examining the bandages. "Is the wound clean?"

  "Yes, according to Brother Rickard," said Athgar.

  "A name I am not familiar with. Is he a shaman?"

  "He has no magic, if that's what you mean, but he knows how to treat a wound."

  "Then it is best we do not disturb it. Once we return, Shaluhk can take care of it."

  "If she's back," reminded Natalia.

  "You should have more faith in the Ancestors, Nat-Alia. Kargen and Shaluhk will return to us. I am certain of it."

  The Reckoning

  Autumn 1104 SR

  * * *

  Athgar peered through the trees. "It appears King Eadred has raised the fyrd and brought them all here, to Runewald."

  "How many?" asked Natalia.

  "Several hundred, by the look of it."

  "Does that mean your king means to stand and fight?" asked Kragor.

  "I doubt it," said Athgar. "More likely he's going to push eastward. I think he means to fight the Orc tribes."

  "We must stop him," insisted Kragor.

  "My thoughts exactly."

  "How do you want to proceed?" asked Natalia.

  "We'll head directly towards the great hall," said Athgar, "and confront Eadred."

  "Are you sure that is wise, Athgar?" said the Orc. "He may not take kindly to your return."

  "We haven't time to waste. The army is likely marching, even as we speak."

  "Then I, and my hunters, will accompany you."

  "Very well," said Athgar. He stood, brushing the leaves from his tunic. The village lay only a short distance away, and so he stepped from the cover of the trees, moving slowly so as not to trip up his crutch. Natalia took her place at his side, Kragor and his half-dozen Orcs following along behind.

  As Athgar drew closer, he noticed several wagons gathered before the king's hall. A small group of chainmail-clad warriors loaded wooden chests, heavy ones by the look of them, into the back of one such wagon.

  A number of warriors to Athgar's left hailed him. He turned, seeing Raleth and his brother, Harwath, leading a collection of familiar-looking faces, local villagers all.

  "How did things go in Ebenstadt?" asked Raleth.

  "Not as well as I would have liked," said Athgar. "But you have to excuse me, I must see the king on a matter of great urgency." He pushed on, his target in sight. The members of the fyrd, led by Raleth, began to follow, ignoring the presence of the Orcs in their rush to see what would transpire.

  "What's going on here?" Athgar called out as they drew nearer the great hall.

  One of the warriors turned, noting the approach of the new arrivals. "The king has ordered the evacuation of the village," the man said. "We are marching eastward."

  "But that will take you into Orc lands," said Athgar.

  The warrior shrugged. "Better to fight the greenskins than match arms against the skrollings." He was about to say more, but then his vision fell upon Kragor. "What is this?" he said, reaching for his sword.

  "Stay your hand," said Athgar. "He is an ally."

  "An ally?"

  "Yes," said Kragor. "We have come to stand with you in your time of need."

  The warrior paused, the words sinking in. "That is good news, but I'm afraid it's too late. King Eadred has commanded us to move eastward, and we must obey."

  The Orc was about to protest, but Natalia stilled his voice by placing her hand on his arm. She turned to face the warrior. "I think this is a matter best discussed with King Eadred."

  He nodded, moving aside to let them pass. By now, word of their arrival had spread, and more villagers were gathering by the entrance to the king's hall.

  Athgar halted as a man exited the structure, struggling with the weight of a small chest.

  "What have you there?" asked Athgar.

  "One of the king's personal chests," the man said, setting it down.

  Athgar moved closer, struggling with his injured leg to kneel to examine the chest in more detail. The labourer, now free of his burden, simply backed up, allowing him access.

  The wooden chest, reinforced with iron bands, was held closed by a clasp but with no lock to secure it. Athgar undid the clasp, lifting the lid to expose its contents. Inside were gold and silver coins in abundance, with an occasional ring mixed in.

  "Has he many such as this?" he asked.

  "This is the third chest I have retrieved," the man replied, "and there's two more inside."

  Athgar stood and looked at Natalia. "I think it time we went inside, don't you?"

  He pushed open the door to reveal several open chests, half filled with clothing and furs, while two others, similar to the one he had examined, stood off to the side. King Eadred was kneeling before one, placing something inside when the door swung open, striking the wall.

  "What is it?" he called out, turning towards the entrance. Equipped for battle, he wore a once ornate chainmail shirt, its links now rusty and damaged. On his hip hung a jewelled scabbard, easily the most expensive item in the village.

  Eadred rose to his feet, words failing him as his gaze took in the form of Athgar. His look of surprise soon turned to hatred. "This is all your fault," accused the king.

  Athgar remained calm. "My fault? Why do you say that? The outsiders were a threat long before I came along!"

  "A threat, most assuredly, but you made it much worse by going to Ebenstadt. You have brought the enemy to the very gates of our land!"

  "Is that why you tried to have me killed?"

  In answer, King Eadred simply pointed at him. "Arrest that man!"

  Natalia was about to speak, but this time it was Kragor who stopped her.

  "Let this play out," the Orc said.

  Two of Eadred's guards moved into the hall, grasping Athgar by the arms. Rather than struggle, Athgar allowed them to lead him from the building. As soon as they stepped outside, the guards were confronted by an angry mob.

  "Release him," called out Raleth. "You know it's the right thing to do."

  The guards looked around at the crowd, seeing the determination in their eyes. After only a moment's hesitation, they both released their grips, standing back to allow room for Athgar to be seen clearly.

  "You have failed, Eadred," Athgar called out. "Come and face me if you dare." He backed away from the door, allowing room for his foe. In response, the gathering of villagers began spreading out to form a rough circle.

  Finally, Eadred emerged, bowing his armoured head to clear the doorway as the bare steel of his sword glinted in his hand.

  "We are making a stand against the invaders," declared Athgar. "Join us."

  "I am king here, not you," countered Eadred. "This is my decision to make."

  "Then make the right one. If we don't fight now, we'll be on the run for the rest of our lives. Is that what you want for your people?"

  "You say you want to fight for your people," said Eadred, "but it is not the villagers of
Runewald for whom you fight. You can't fool me, Athgar of Athelwald, for I know the truth. You would replace me and rule as king."

  "No, I wish only to bring peace to our people."

  "There cannot be two leaders," said Eadred. "We must settle this once and for all, you and I."

  Athgar sighed. "If that is your wish."

  "Take a shield," said Eadred, "and let us settle this as true warriors." The king waited as a member of the fyrd handed over a shield, then taking one for himself, he advanced into the impromptu circle.

  Eadred moved into a slight crouch, banging his sword against his shield. "Hear this, Athgar? It's the sound of your doom."

  "You don't scare me, Eadred. I've faced worse foes."

  The king merely smiled in response, shifting to his right. Athgar tried to mimic Eadred, but with his injured leg, his movements were clumsy, his pacing weak.

  The king, noticing his opponent's discomfort, lunged forward, the tip of his sword striking out at Athgar's face. The Fire Mage stumbled back, giving ground.

  Feinting, the king watched with a smirk as Athgar awkwardly tried to manoeuvre. With his suspicions now confirmed, Eadred moved forward, using a series of blows to force Athgar farther back, not worrying about actually striking his target. When Athgar stumbled, Eadred used the edge of his shield to smash into the wounded leg, laughing as he watched fresh blood seep to the surface.

  Athgar thought to use his magic, but the king attacked with such speed, he had little time to cast. He needed to put some space between them, but with his wounded leg, he was unable to increase the distance.

  Eadred struck again, and Athgar parried, then countered with a swing to the chest. He could feel the blade of his axe dig into chainmail, but the blow was short, missing flesh. Instead, it tore into the old and worn links, bursting at least half a dozen.

  The king backed up, looking down at his chest. "You'll have to do better than that," he sneered. He struck again, this time swinging his sword from the right to glance off Athgar's shield, making a loud thud.

  In answer, Athgar thrust forward with his axe, only to pull it short on purpose. The king, reacting to the expected attack, drew his head back, out of range, and that's when Athgar attacked, hooking the edge of Eadred's shield with his axe and pulling him forward. Unbalanced, the king stumbled, and Athgar thrust again, the top of his weapon crashing against his foe's helmet, the clang of metal on metal ringing out. Pulling back, he noted the dent he had created on the helm's rim, and beneath it, he saw where the edge of the helmet, deformed by the blow, had sliced into Eadred's forehead.