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The Battle for Jordborg

Page 20

by Logan Petty


  . . .

  A chilly gust blew through the dark back alley in which Naralei and Banthan skulked. The moon shone slender rays of light among the piles of trash surrounding them. Banthan mumbled under his breath, breaking the silence they kept since the two began wandering around the city.

  “We’re lost, aren’t we? What was Sibilach thinking sending us out here? I mean, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never been to Jordborg before. I don’t even know what a mansion is. I mean, I can guess, but if it’s a kind of house, I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

  Naralei glared at her companion. “Keep it down, Banth,” she whispered. “We know it’s a mansion surrounded by a white gate near a tree where ravens nest.”

  Banthan threw his hands up in the air, whispering in exasperation, “Look around, Nara! There are ravens everywhere in this place! They’re on the buildings, in every tree. I mean, that one over there has been following us for the last mile. Probably thinks to score a big meal after we die of exhaustion!”

  True to his report, a large black raven hopped about anxiously, turning a glassy eye toward the pair of elves. Naralei grabbed a small piece of broken pallet and lobbed it at the bird, which flapped upward, landed on the awning of a window, and cawed at her loudly. She turned back to scouting the street ahead. Nothing stirred in the open. The sheer emptiness of this city made it feel like a corpse. In Alfhaven, even when the streets slept at night, the city thrived with wildlife. The only living creatures in Jordborg ruffled their black feathers and called constantly to their kin who perched all around, looking for anything worth eating. Banthan sighed.

  “The street looks abandoned. Maybe we can slip out into the open, get a better look around.”

  Naralei shook her head. “No, these buildings are too cramped. We’ll never see anything from down here, even if we did risk our necks out there. We need to go up. Come on, follow me.”

  She wandered over to the ledge on which the tagalong raven perched. It fluttered away, screeching at Naralei as she climbed up nimbly. From there, she scrambled up to a stone ledge that ran above the window. Once her toes could plant firmly against the narrow ledge, she glanced around. To her left, a clothesline ran from a second story window to the building across the alley. She shimmied over to it and crouched enough to launch upward. She pushed off the wall and gained a few extra inches of lift, enough to grab the line. It sagged dramatically as her weight pulled it downward. She glanced behind her as Banthan cleared the window and scaled to the ledge.

  “Give me a second to get across, I don’t think this line can hold your weight.”

  Banthan shot a snide look in her direction. “Are you calling me fat?”

  Naralei rolled her eyes as she put one hand in front of the other, shuffling across the alley. The building she landed on looked similar to the one she left, save for a walkway with a wooden ladder that extended the rest of the height up to the roof. She examined it and found that it was bolted to the wall loosely. Only a few nails held it in place at the top. Naralei climbed to the top of the ladder and scanned the rooftop for inhabitants. She found nothing up here but more ravens and a few piles of bones and bird droppings. She drew a dagger and worked at the places where the nails held to the walls until they wiggled more loosely. She sat against the roof and braced her feet on the inside of the ladder’s top rung. She kicked hard a few times. The ladder shook with each push, breaking free bit by bit until it released the wall and clattered downward, wedging itself between the two buildings. A few feet out of Banthan’s reach.

  He scouted left and right for a solution. The window ledge above the clothesline tempted him the most. It stood to the right of the wedged ladder, which he could reach with a little luck and elven grace. He sidled over to the line and bent his knees. He pushed off and grabbed hold of the line. It buckled as he did. He quickly scrambled up and grabbed the ledge with his left hand as the line in his right one broke away from the wall. He let it go to grab the ledge with both hands. He glanced over his shoulder to watch it fall and then up at Naralei. She frantically gave him the signal to stop all movement then ducked out of sight. His heart raced as he heard something move above him.

  A cloud of dust flitted down around him as the shutters of the window above opened and the snout of a gnoll poked out, sniffing the air. He looked up as it looked down. Their eyes met for a moment as the gnoll took a deep breath. Banthan snagged his collar and yanked with all his might. The gnoll slipped from the window, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the elf. He let out a terrified scream as he plunged head first into the alleyway. He hit the stones below with a terrible crunch and lay still where he landed. Banthan quickly pulled himself up to the window. He heard unfriendly noises from inside as he jumped up to the awning above him and sidled over to the wedged ladder. A column jutted out of the stonework a few inches, giving the building more structure and character, but most importantly, a place for Banthan to hide. He pressed up against the wall as chattering voices became clearer. He did not know the language they spoke, but held still as more gnoll heads emerged from the window, looking around. Another gruff voice joined the mix, this one speaking common.

  “What’s going on here? I never told you fleabags to leave yer post.”

  One of the gnolls responded in the language Banthan understood. “We heard a big commotion, so we came to see. Looks like Rat-tail stepped outside fer some fresh air and took a tumble.”

  Another gnoll laughed hysterically, punctuating his jubilant fits with words. “Hee he heh, yeah, thought he, thought he he heee heh! Thought he could get out of guard duty by breaking his neck! Bahhh aha ha ha ha hee hee!”

  The gruff voice spat contemptibly on the corpse as a loud smack followed by a yelp rang out from the window. “Stop standing around making that awful noise. Drag his hide to the temple and make him get back to work. Do it quick before I turn the lot of you!”

  A round of yelps and barks echoed around the alley as the gnolls scrambled away and out of his range of hearing. Banthan waited a moment until all the commotion subsided. He glanced down at the corpse he just created and sighed to himself. He knew that the other gnolls would be in the alley soon and he would be in plain sight. He glanced at the ladder. He could reach it from here, but it did not look very stable. He shook doubt from his mind as he leaned forward and braced to jump. A hand caught him by the chest and slammed him back against the wall. A large troll with greenish, cracked skin leaned partially out of the window, snarling at Banthan. His long arm easily cleared the distance between his body and the elf, though he could not squeeze any farther out of the man-sized opening.

  “Thought I smelled something strange. You’ve got the stink of trees and mud all over you, elfling. No stench like that in this place.”

  His hand wrapped around Banthan, squeezing him like a vice. The air fled from his lungs as his feet left the ground. He heard two thunks and the troll relinquished his grip. As Banthan dropped, his arm shot up and grabbed the ladder. The troll howled in pain as Banthan pulled himself up and scurried along the ladder. He glanced back to see the troll rip a pair of serrated daggers from his fingers. The troll glared angrily at him and bellowed.

  “Elves on the roofs! Bring me their corpses!”

  Banthan quickly scaled the rest of the far wall, using the studs from the ladder to bound up as fast as he could. He hit the roof running, sending a drove of ravens flurrying. Naralei appeared beside him as they jumped from one roof to another. Banthan could hear the barks of the gnolls, heavy in the night air. Their pursuers bounded up the sides of the building they ran across, closing in quickly. Naralei pointed at a lower building and leapt from the ledge of this one, hitting the slanted roof and sliding down to the awning on the other side. Banthan pushed fear away as he gathered all his strength to make the jump. He flew through the air, hearing the snapping of angry gnolls right behind him.

  He landed on the far side of the slope and slid down. He heard the gnolls behind him hit the other side o
f the slope and skid away from him, their cries of distress growing slightly quieter. He hit the gutter hard with his feet and bounced off it, to the ground below. He ran into a courtyard surrounded by white iron bars. An ancient dead tree covered in ravens stood as the only feature in this dark clearing. Naralei stepped out from behind the tree, smiling as she pointed up.

  “Look, Banth. I think we found the raven tree.”

  Banthan placed his hand on his hip and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so it’s a tree with ravens in it. And what about the mansion?”

  Naralei pointed behind him without a word. He turned around and looked up at the building he just used to escape capture. The dark wooden walls and granite pillars of this ancient house stood in stark contrast to the white sandstone buildings that comprised most of Jordborg. It boasted an array of vaulted stained-glass windows on the second floor. It looked out of place amidst the towering structures of the modern city. Banthan nodded.

  “Yeah, that looks like a mansion to me. Good work, Nara. And thanks for the save.”

  Naralei arched an eyebrow as she moved past him toward the mansion. “What do you mean?”

  The barking and howling of the gnolls filled the area around the courtyard, pushing further thought from Banthan’s mind. He ran for the manor’s front door, praying it would open. Naralei reached the door first, yanking at the handle. It creaked open as she motioned for Banthan.

  “Get in quick!”

  A loud tumult arose from the tree behind Banthan. He glanced back as he rushed inside. Before closing the door, he saw a massive flock of angry ravens swirl from the old tree and attack the gnolls who attempted to scale the fence to get into the courtyard. He shut the door behind him and locked it. He stood still a moment to catch his breath and let his heartbeat slow down.

  “Next time, I’m volunteering to stay with the army.”

  Inside the mansion, the air smelled of mold and dust. Nothing stirred except the two elves as they looked around. They stood in a large, open foyer. A broken staircase stretched along the left wall to a hallway above. Several doors lined the far wall and right side of the house. Glass and broken furniture littered the stained carpet. A marble fireplace rested against the back wall, between two black wood doors. Banthan scanned the room, unsure of the object he sought.

  “Alright, Nara. Your big brain has got us this far. Now what, leader?”

  “Don’t call me that,” she snapped as she roamed over to one of the doors, testing the handle. Banthan let out a half laugh as he picked through some debris with his foot.

  “You really think you don’t deserve it? I mean, you were the leader first. Until he showed up.”

  Naralei leaned against the locked door, closing her eyes. “Shut up, Banth. Now’s not the time.”

  Banthan pushed open another door, looking inside. He found nothing but a room full of empty old chests and a rusty iron bed frame. He sauntered back into the main room after a quick examination.

  “Okay, but when is the time? We can all see it, you know. Every time he gives an order, you do your own thing. Sure, it’s along the lines of whatever we’re trying to accomplish, but every command you carry out is done in contempt. I mean, I get it, believe me I do.”

  Naralei lowered her head against the door as her chest heaved for air. “Banthan, please. We have a mission to finish.”

  “Yeah, of course. One he got us into. If he had never shown up, things would have turned out so different, right? I mean, for all we know, we’d still be back home, listening to Tirinele’s lectures, running your dad’s drills. You know, if we hadn’t got caught up in this crusade, maybe . . . maybe no one would have had to die.”

  Naralei looked up, an angry fire burning through the mist in her eyes. “I thought you were over all this! Why are you bringing it up now?”

  Banthan shrugged as he crouched at the fireplace, peering within. “I mean, I’m still mad at him, sure. Hard to just get over the guy who leaves your sister for dead. But at least I can respect him as our leader. You . . . I get the feeling you haven’t let go of something.”

  Naralei’s hands curled into fists as she stomped toward Banthan. “You want me to just let go? What do you know about me? Nothing!”

  Banthan never looked up from his search. His eye grew wide and a huge grin spread on his face. He reached into his pouch and withdrew the candle Sibilach gave him.

  “Hey, I think I figured it out! Look, there’s a weird pillar in here, goes up through the mantle a bit. Looks like you are supposed to put something on it. Maybe this is the altar we’re looking for!”

  A slender, firm hand grabbed Banthan by the collar and lifted him up to his feet. Naralei spun him around, coming within inches of his face. She spoke through gritted teeth.

  “You stirred this up! You can’t just change the subject! Yes, I hate him too, alright! I hate my dirty, half elf cousin. I hate him for stealing my glory. I hate him for tearing us from our home. I wanted to believe in him. I wanted to be there, to support him. I mean, his sob story about being born a slave got under my skin, but I just grinned and bore it. Then he came into the academy, riding on the skirts of his mother’s fame. He did nothing and he became leader of Mirehawk in a matter of months! I gave my life to my father’s training! He drilled me from the time I could walk! Twenty years I studied, fought, trained, bled, and for what? He said I would be Alfhaven’s new glory. Leader of a new generation who would lead Alfhaven to greatness. Then he showed up. He showed up and my father wouldn’t shut up about him!”

  Tears fell freely as she slammed her fist into Banthan’s chest. “I hate him because he stole my future! I still hate him because with every passing day, more and more people flock to him, joining this campaign. And I hate him because in the end, despite all the loved ones we lost . . . I know that he has handled all of it better than I ever could have . . . . He . . . he’s just a natural and it burns me up inside.”

  Her tears slowed and her breathing steadied. “You know, in the end . . . he really is the leader we needed, not me.”

  Banthan rested a hand on her shoulder, smiling. “Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an amazing ranger. Nara, you’re still top of the class. You’ve saved all our hides more times than any of us deserves, and Sawain knows that. I know you get angry when he doesn’t assign you to the dangerous missions. I get it; you think you have something to prove. I don’t know much, but I do know Sawain. He’s been my bitter rival for the last year. When you hate someone that much, you learn a lot about them, because you just can’t stop thinking they’re always one step ahead of you.”

  Naralei frowned, shrugging off Banthan’s hand. “What’s your point?”

  He shrugged as he fiddled with the candlestick in his free hand. “All I’m saying is that boy loves you. No, not the same way he fawns over Mari, but something deeper. It’s like . . . every move he makes, he seeks your approval. Anyway, like I said, I don’t know much, but I do know you’ve got Sawain figured all wrong. I know that from experience. Anyway, what do you say we try this altar out?”

  Naralei stood in stunned silence as Banthan placed the candle on the mantle. He glanced over his shoulder.

  “You going to just stand there all day or are you going to do something useful?”

  She shook herself from her thoughts, blinking as if she had just awakened from a dream. “Oh, right. The altar. Yeah, here.”

  She took out her fire steel and a dagger, then began to strike the steel, throwing sparks at the wick of the candle. A few moments later, the flame leapt to life. Black fire kindled as the light in the room seemed to be drawn into the flickering darkness. Banthan gawked at the anomaly as he squinted through the darkness even his elven eyes struggled to see through.

  “Hey Nara, does this seem familiar to you?”

  Naralei gasped sharply. Banthan turned to see her facing the entrance. He looked to see what alarmed her and stumbled backward, nearly falling onto the candle. A cloaked figure stood barely a foot away from them.
A featureless hood hung from its head, a black cloth mask covered most of its face, except for two gleaming green orbs that shone in the darkness. Loose black clothing garbed the stranger, from head to toe. The few places the clothing did not cover revealed black leather armor beneath. The figure held out a gloved hand as if it expected something. Naralei stammered.

  “Th-this must be our guide. I think he wants the candle.”

  Banthan nodded slowly, lowering his hand away from his sword. “Oh, uh, right. Well, better not keep him waiting, Nara.”

  She shot an angry look at Banthan a moment before hesitantly turning to retrieve the candle. Black wax dripped from the stick as she removed it from the altar. The droplets sizzled as they hit the marble slab. It sank downward, until the pillar disappeared beneath the fireplace. The entire hearth split into two even halves and slid apart, revealing a secret passage that sank into darkness. Naralei and Banthan stared in amazement as the transformation completed. They slowly turned to the stranger, who had his hand outstretched still. Naralei quietly handed over the candle. The stranger padded past the elves silently. The flame from the candle devoured the light around the three as the stranger led them into the secret passage.

  The stairwell led downward into a large stone chamber with a semicircle of raised benches like that of an amphitheater. A multitude of cloaked figures dressed like their guide sat on the raised stone benches. In the middle, at the bottom most bench, a throne of marble sat. Two black candles, perched on lampstands to either side of the throne, gave off their light eating auras, completely obscuring the person who sat on the throne. The guide led them to the center of the room, pointed at a spot on the floor, then turned to kneel to the throne. The guide placed the candle at the feet of the one who sat on the throne, then stood up and turned to the two elves. A deep, monotonous voice that carried no tone or inflection came from the one on the throne.

 

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