Rogue Vanguard: Book One of the Eterialumen

by Peter Hall

  Rogue Vanguard

  Book One of the Eterialumen

  Peter Hall

  Copyright © 2021 by Peter Hall

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form on or by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  I

  The Fire Within

  Bryn drew her bowstring, eyes focused on the hare as it nibbled on a leafy plant. She aimed the bone arrowhead just above its shoulder blade and exhaled slowly, letting it slip. The arrow whistled as it streaked through the forest and the hare dropped in a spray of red mist. She felt at home, running barefoot through the lush, green grass to fetch her kill.

  What a monster! She crouched down and removed her arrow, impressed with the size of the animal. After wiping the bloody arrow on the grass and returning it to the simple hide quiver on her back, she picked up the hare, bound its hind legs and tied it to a rope around her waist. There was still a few hours of light left, so she slung the simple wooden bow across her back and continued moving north through Balen Forest. She arrived in Siera with nothing, apart from her bow, quiver and a hide pack. The wharf manager informed her she would be able to find passage to Asgard from Derry, a large town about a week's journey north from Cedonia. The people of the city stared at her as she disembarked the galleon and walked along the bridge from the weathered old jetty to the dusty dirt roads. It was the largest city she had ever seen and it was full of activity.

  An alchemist in a multicolored robe was selling potions on the street corner, there was a hardy Dwarven blacksmith hammering a steel chestplate, the stables were crowded with horses and wagons and the stable boy was frantically trying to manage the utter chaos. There were fish markets and taverns, jewellers and enchanters, workshops and traders... all were crafting and selling just about anything a young adventurer could want for.

  Bryn knew how she must look to the civilized people of Siera. She was a tall, athletic woman with blonde hair braided in traditional Asgardian style. She had unusually tanned skin for a Northerner and her body was covered in tribal tattoos of southern origins, adding to the mystery. The men of Cedonia in particular noticed she was only wearing a few scraps of tattered fur for clothing. She couldn’t get out of the city fast enough. She followed the road north along the coast and took a shortcut through the forest.

  Derry was still a couple of days journey and she hadn’t come up with a way to pay for her voyage to Asgard yet. Perhaps she could find some work in the city, or on the way there, she thought. All she wanted was to get back to her homeland, to see the mountains and the snow again, to be with her people, perhaps even carve out a normal life for herself. She was still only a young woman of twenty-two years of age but she had seen enough of the world, more than most would in a lifetime.

  The orange twilight filtering through the forest canopy started to fade as the sun sank into the Great Western Sea. As Bryn made her way through the thick oak trees and dense foliage she was struck by the natural beauty of the place. As she approached the northern end of Balen Forest, a loud scream echoed through the trees. Curse it, what is this… She equipped her bow and drew an arrow, quietly moving forward. There were people up ahead in a small clearing. She stayed low and crept up behind a tree, peering around to get a closer look. There were three soldiers wearing steel armor and black capes and one of them was holding a young woman. He slapped her across the face and she cried out, while the others laughed. The soldier then ripped the woman's dress, exposing her breasts and threw her on the ground. Bryn slowly started backing up, not wanting any part of it, when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned and a steel gloved hand grabbed her throat and squeezed. She dropped her bow, she couldn’t breath.

  “What do we have here?” the grizzled soldier said with a grin. His breath reeked of beer and he was as ugly as sin.

  “Boys we got another one!” he shouted to the others.

  Bryn grabbed the hilt of his sword and ripped it from the sheath at his waist. His grin vanished as she shoved the steel longsword straight into his bulging gut and pushed it all the way in. He released his grip and Bryn pulled the sword out. Blood sprayed from the wound as he toppled over and screamed, clutching his stomach. She turned around and the other three soldiers were charging towards her across the clearing, swords drawn. Curse it! She gripped the steel in her hand and looked down. She spotted a rock, grabbed it and threw it at the closest soldier, hitting him directly in the face and knocking him onto his back. She ran towards the next one and jumped, launching towards him as he swung his sword but before it connected with her, she stabbed him in the neck and landed behind him. Blood sprayed up into the air as he fell back clutching his severed throat. She turned and swung her sword with a backhand stroke, meeting the next soldier's blade with a clash of steel. She turned to her left and stabbed but he deflected the strike and kicked her in the gut. Bryn doubled over and stumbled back a few steps as the soldier advanced. He raised his sword but as he brought it down, Bryn grabbed his wrist, stopping the strike. His eyes widened as she shoved her sword through his neck and pulled it out. Blood sprayed across her face as she let go of his arm and he dropped to the ground, choking and coughing.

  The last soldier was running away across the clearing. Bryn sprinted after him. He looked back over his shoulder and saw her coming, then tripped over a branch. As he got up, Bryn threw her sword at him. It spun through the air and slammed into his back, piercing his armor and skewering him through the chest. He screamed and toppled over into the foliage. The young woman was still sitting in the clearing, clutching her ripped dress and shivering in the cold. Bryn noticed she was staring at her.

  “Thank you.” She said weakly, still shaken by the ordeal.

  Bryn glanced at the bruised and beaten young woman and walked past her to one of the dead soldiers. She stripped the soldier of his armor and clothes and took off her furs. She put on the soldiers black pants and shirt, then sat down and put his black leather boots on. At least something good came of this mess. She stood up and tied the soldiers belt around her waist and picked up his sword from the grass, sheathing it at her side.

  “Please, would you help me back to Portside… I’m afraid.” the young woman said, sobbing.

  Bryn glanced over at her, then turned and checked another soldier. He had a coin pouch on his waist. She pulled it off and opened the drawstring, emptying the contents on the ground. This is what I need! It was a pile of gold and silver coins, surely enough to buy passage to Asgard. Finally some good fortune. She collected the coins and stuffed them back into the pouch, drawing the string and tying it to her belt. Bryn took the long black cape from the dead soldier and tied it around her shoulders. She noticed all of the soldiers were wearing necklaces with a silver bat pendant.

  What is the meaning of these bats? she thought as she inspected one of the sinister looking trinkets. She snapped the necklace from the dead soldier’s neck and stuffed it in her pack. She found her bow and slung it across her back with her quiver, then walked over to the young woman who was still sitting in the clearing.

  She crouched down beside her and grabbed her arm. “How far is Portside?”

  “It's not far... past the trees up there, there's a road to the north.”

  Bryn stood up and gripped the hilt of her sword. This girl had seen her murder four soldiers. What if she tells someone? Who knows how many more of these men are out there? She drew her sword and the young woman’s face tu
rned from a look of anguish to a look of fear. Bryn gripped the sword and gritted her teeth, holding it to the young woman’s neck. Hades!

  “You never saw me.”

  She nodded, tears running down her face. Bryn sheathed her sword and headed north through the trees towards the road, leaving the young woman to fend for herself.

  It was night by the time she reached the winding dirt road that followed the western coast to Portside. The wind was picking up and it was getting cold. To the left of the road, the cliffs overlooked the sea. Hundreds of yards below, the waves roared and crashed wildly on the jagged and rocky shores. Bryn looked over her shoulder and saw the young woman following her in the distance. Curse you girl! She kept walking and didn’t look back again. The road continued along, as thunder rumbled across the bay and light rain began to fall. She finally came to a low stone fence with an open wooden gateway leading into the town. There was a beggar sitting at the entrance against the stone wall and he held out his hand as Bryn walked past.

  “Spare a coin for an old sailor.” he said in a raspy voice.

  She stopped and turned to the poor wretch. “And what will you do for me in return?” she said, the water glistening on her face in the moonlight.

  The old man looked at her like he was confused.

  “I thought as much.” she said and headed down the road to find a tavern, as the wind picked up and rain fell down in a thin mist across the dreary, sea-side town.

  Bryn poured every last drop that was left of the sweet red wine into her cup, tossed the empty bottle over her head and gulped the contents down. It was the first time she had tasted wine and found herself enjoying it more than she had anticipated. The bottle bounced off a sleeping man’s head and smashed on the wall, much to the amusement of the room. She wiped her mouth and slammed the cup down on the old wooden table as the man woke up somewhat bewildered, rubbing his head.

  She was sitting with a couple of fishermen, laughing at their tall tales and observing the patrons of the tavern, of which she counted around thirty or so. Most of them looked like locals; fisherman, traders, a few pirates and perhaps a few thieves. The Drunken Boar Inn was etched in the swinging wooden sign outside the sturdy entrance door and Bryn had thought it looked welcoming enough from the outside. She would occasionally get a local glancing her way, whether they were admiring her exotic beauty or pondering on what a Northerner was doing in these parts, their gaze would quickly shift as soon as they eyed the sword at her waist. They were friendly enough though, and the combination of the laughter, wine and music had put her in good spirits. The old fisherman sitting opposite took a swig from his bottle and beer dripped down his tangled grey beard onto the table.

  “I envy you lass.” he said as he put the bottle back down. “The world at your feet, what I wouldn’t give to be young again!”

  Bryn spun her cup around, staring into it like she was searching for something. “I envy you old man.” she said, ushering the servant girl over to the table. “Another bottle of wine girl.” she said and shooed her away.

  “You envy me?” The fisherman said. “Now why in Hades would you envy an old fool like me?”

  Bryn looked at him with a half smile. “I always wanted to learn how to fish.”

  The fisherman looked surprised. He laughed and took another swig of his beer. “I’ve been a fisherman all my life. Lived in this town, in the same rat-infested house for fifty years.”

  “So why complain? At least you have had a peaceful life.” Bryn said.

  “I’ve wasted my life!” He said and slammed his fist on the table. “Done nothing of consequence! And now I am too old and feeble to do anything other than catch fish for the rest of my days.”

  “At least you have lived a long life, that is more than most can say in this world.”

  The old man eyeballed Bryn. “What is better, a long and meaningless life? Or a short life of legend? A life of adventure! Of fame and fortune! That’s a life worth living! Tell me lass, do you intend to burn the longest? Or the brightest?”

  She didn’t have an answer for him. The bard strummed his lyre and started to play a shanty as the room broke into song. The town seemed safe for now, so she farewelled the old men at the table and got to her feet. She walked over to one of the servants. She was a curvy brunette girl with a kind face, wearing a white bonnet and a faded green gown. This particular young lady had just smashed a bottle over a Dwarf’s head for pinching her behind.

  “Scuse’ me, who do I speak to around here to get a room for the night?” Bryn said with slightly slurred speech.

  “We have rooms upstairs lovely, speak to Miriam, she's over by the kitchen.”

  Later that evening as Bryn slept in the small room above the tavern she saw visions of ghostly white demons sprinting through snow covered forests and into a village, tearing people limb from limb, decapitating and eviscerating all in their wake, stopping only to drink the blood gushing from severed limbs.

  She woke with a fright and sat up in her bed, naked, her body drenched in sweat. She was burning up even though it was freezing cold in her room. She gazed out the small window beside her bed, listening. There was a storm raging outside. Heavy rains were pelting down and the wind was howling. She could see the ocean and a small beach near the town. The waves were crashing over a jetty with a lantern at the end that was swinging back and forth wildly on its post. She sat cross-legged on the rickety little bed and listened. A prickly sensation swept across her body. She heard footsteps coming up the stairs at the end of the hall outside the room.

  The footsteps paused for a moment, then slowly got closer until whoever it was, was standing directly outside the room. The door handle slowly began to turn and Bryn leaped up from the bed and grabbed her sword. The door burst open and she only had a moment to react to the ghastly looking creature lunging toward her. It was a human of some description but before she had time to draw a conclusion, the sword flashed and its head split in half, blood and brains splattering across the room. The body crashed into the wall behind her and twitched as she stood there naked, blood dripping from her face and breasts. The body smelled like hot garbage and death.

  The servant girl burst through the doorway, screamed and ran back out. Bryn turned around and realized the town bell was ringing. What the Hades is going on? She threw on her clothes and boots, slung her quiver and bow across her back, grabbed her sword and ran for the stairs at the end of the hall, her black cape billowing out behind her.

  The door to the tavern was open and Bryn sprinted outside into the pouring rain. She came out onto the road and saw two figures shambling towards her in the darkness. They were growling like wild animals and moving in a disjointed, unnatural way. They saw Bryn and dashed towards her, screaming with their arms outstretched. Her heart was racing. They had awful dead faces, their eyes were black pits of nothingness and their skin looked like melted wax. Draugr! She walked towards them with her sword lowered then casually whipped it across to the left, decapitating the first draugr, its body stumbling and crashing to the dirt as blood sprayed from the neck. As the other one closed in she whipped her sword back to the right, sending the creature's foul head soaring into the air in an explosion of blood. She looked back at the twitching bodies lying on the road. Am I losing my mind?

  She estimated it was about an hour until sunrise. She remembered hearing stories of the draugr when she was a child, they were the undead, only meant to come out at night, if she remembered correctly. They were just a fairy fable. They weren’t supposed to actually be real. She felt like she had woken in a nightmare. She jogged down the road towards the northern entrance to the town. There was movement in the distance. Shadows, twitching and swaying in the darkness. The hairs on her neck stood up and she gripped her sword. Through the thick sheets of rain pouring down she could see them, the shambling horde shuffling towards the town. She could hear the awful growling, she could see their sunken, dead faces in the moonlight. There were at least fifty of them as far as she c
ould tell.

  They were closing in fast. Her eyes widened and she stood frozen in the rain. She couldn’t breath. Her heart was racing. She was going to pass out. Hades! Run! She gasped and ran to her left down a winding path that led to the jetty she had seen earlier. She slipped over as she ran down the muddy hill but quickly got to her feet and kept running across the beach. Curses they followed me!

  The draugr chased after her, some falling over in their haste. As she ran on to the old wooden jetty she grabbed the lantern from its post and backed up, as the horde closed in. Die you bastards! She threw the lantern at the incoming horde and it smashed in a draugr’s face, exploding in a fireball that engulfed half the horde. The draugr screamed in agony as they burned, but they kept coming. Bryn twirled her sword around and gripped it with both hands. The steel sword flashed, swiping the first fiery ghouls head clean off. She kicked the next one into the water and stabbed the next one through the face. She swung her sword in a sweeping arc that collected three draugr in a thick cloud of red mist as her black cape billowed up in the wind. The rain battered the coast as the dismembered bodies fell onto the rickety old jetty. She swung her sword back and forth, slicing another four heads off. Limp bodies flopped over the edge into the water and sizzled as they floated beneath her. The servant girl watched on in amazement from the window in the room above the tavern.

  Bryn skewered a draugr through the chest and charged forward into the horde, pushing them back and knocking them over. She got up and pulled her sword from the dead draugr as another grabbed her from behind and bit into her shoulder. She screamed and felt the warm blood running down her arm. Bastard son of Hades! She shoved the draugr away, gritted her teeth and hacked its head in half with a powerful swing. The bodies piled up and the jetty started to groan as she continued to swat the incoming horrors. There was a loud creaking sound and then a tumultuous crash as the jetty collapsed under the weight of the dead creatures, sending Bryn into the water below.