by Jim Galford
“Is not time to drink with them so close, I think. If I do not wish to drink, this says something…”
“Give it!” growled On’esquin, dropping his spear.
Sighing, Yoska untied the cup from his belt and handed it over.
“My master had a few odd quirks, as most people do,” the orc said, eyeing the cup as he turned it over in his hand. “One in particular was his obsession with magic. He enchanted everything and always said that it was ‘just in case.’ I rarely saw him use any of it and always considered it a waste of his time. He enchanted a dozen items in the last week of his life.”
Raeln tried to pull his hand free, but On’esquin held him firmly.
“Go and defend the tomb as long as you are able,” said On’esquin, releasing Raeln and walking away with the cup. He stood over the coffin and smiled sadly. “I will do what I can here. Dalania, you will stay with me. Raeln, you and Yoska will hold the entrance. Please take Feanne and send Estin back here. Do not go far from the entrance to the tomb until I complete what I am doing.”
“How will you let us know?” Raeln asked, scratching at the skin near the bracelet.
“Trust me, you will know.”
Knowing there was little time to argue, Raeln headed up the tunnel with Yoska—who quickly managed to light the torch they had brought with them—soon reaching Estin and Feanne, lying near the broken gate in the dark. Estin had Feanne cradled in his arms and she was still muttering and sobbing.
“On’esquin wants her with us, fighting, and you with him,” Raeln said, getting an angry look in reply from Estin.
“She is in no condition, Raeln.”
“In ten more minutes, none of us will be,” he said, while Feanne struggled to stop crying. “We need her at the entrance.”
“I am not going to let her out of my sight. If she’s fighting, so am I.”
Estin appeared ready to keep arguing, but Feanne touched his chest, stopping him. All of the fight went out of Estin as he looked into her eyes, the two of them having a brief conversation through that one look. Closing his eyes and lowering his head, Estin nodded.
Slowly, Feanne got up and wiped away her tears. Taking a deep breath, she finally looked up at Raeln and smiled, while Estin clenched his hands tightly enough that his arms shook.
“I am ready,” Feanne said softly. “I cannot promise anything, but I will try. I swear I will fight with all my strength for a chance to see my children again.”
“That’s all I can ask,” Raeln told her gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. Estin appeared ready to take a swing at him, but Raeln pointedly ignored the anger radiating from him. “We need to hurry.”
Leading the way out, Raeln had to run mostly by feel in the dark hall, with Yoska barely able to keep up. He remembered most of the curves, and knowing that there were no actual corners or doors made it easier to move without seeing. Soon enough he saw the walls as light from the entrance reached them. Using that light, he was able to run even faster, and before long he had reached the archway entrance.
Raeln stopped at the entrance to the tomb and waited for Feanne and Yoska to catch up. They nearly ran into him, and when he looked back, he saw Feanne was helping guide Yoska as the torch had faded almost completely. Raeln had not even considered the man’s limited night vision would slow him.
Out in the ravine, still on the far side, Raeln could see nine robed Turessians walking through a large crowd of zombies. At first he could not figure out what they were doing, but soon realized they were healing the undead, fixing broken limbs and helping them stand more easily. They were preparing their troops for battle the way most armies would arm and armor their soldiers.
“Nine Turessians,” Raeln whispered to the others. “Lots of corpses. This will be rough.”
He continued to watch as one Turessian came to the front of the group, surveying them one last time. That was Liris, he realized. The woman had managed to track them all the way from Jnodin and had brought friends this time. From what he could see, she was in charge of the group.
“Destroy nothing until after, but kill anyone that stands in our way,” Liris announced, as the other Turessians came forward to join her at the front of the group of zombies. “We are to turn anyone who stands in our way into undead. No torture, no debate, no negotiation from any of you…are we all clear? The orc is our only target.”
A disappointed grumble of agreement came from the other Turessians.
Turning from the Turessians to Feanne and Yoska, Raeln said, “This is it. Hold the doorway. They have numbers, but we have the more defensible ground. Magic is really the only advantage they have right now.”
A whistle from the direction of the Turessians made Raeln look their way, and he saw that all nine robed figures were looking at him.
“Hello again, wolf,” Liris called out, walking ahead of the others as they crossed the ravine, the large group of undead trailing right behind them. “Let us see what you brought along to try to stop us today. Nothing thus far has been even remotely worthy of all this effort.”
Rising to his full height, Raeln filled the archway, while Feanne and Yoska stepped out to either side, ready to help cover him against the attack. He had only one purpose now: to keep that hallway empty until he stopped breathing. It was asking a lot, given the power of the Turessians, but he would do whatever he could. Slowly, he drew his sword and waited.
“Oh, this will be lovely,” Liris said once she was less than twenty feet away. From there he could see her amused smile as she studied each of them. Looking at Yoska first, she said, “A drunken human…who, if I am not mistaken, should already be dead. I will be sure to correct that in short order. Your people have a reputation for saving their hides. I give you this one chance to run. I have no reason to hunt you down at the moment. Keep it that way.”
His knives coming out with a flourish, Yoska spit on the ground. “May my ancestors walk on the graves of yours for all time. I will not leave until I see you beg for mercy.”
Smiling amusedly, Liris turned her attention next to Raeln. “We want what is in that cave, wildling,” she said, motioning for the others to open up the path out of the ravine. “I will hunt you down by my lord’s orders, but today does not have to be that day. Run with your tail tucked and you may yet escape me. Admit that you are outmatched and take to the wilderness and spend your life hiding from me.”
Raeln held his position, tightening his grip on his sword until his knuckles cracked loudly.
“And you,” the Turessian went on, her eyes falling on Feanne. “I know we have killed you. One poor, broken, little wildling with no idea who she is and why so many people want her dead. I feel for you, child, I really do. You are weak and powerless in a world filled with magic and brutes like the wolf beside you. I may hate you and your kind, but I am no brute. Come to me. There will be no harm directed toward you this day. I will give you the right to pick one other who will be spared. We are not unreasonable. Take your husband and go.”
Feanne’s eyes stayed on the ground in front of her, never glancing at Liris or either of her companions. Raeln watched her, expecting the same fiery response as Yoska, but her shoulders sank with each passing second and soon her ears flattened back. After a moment, she took a step toward Liris, pulling up her hood as she came away from the wall and was hit by winds.
Reaching out before she was too far away, Raeln caught Feanne’s arm and held her. “Feanne, what are you doing? We can’t trust them! They will kill you.”
Looking up at Raeln from the depths of her hood, Feanne regarded him coolly. “You will remove your hand from me. I have seen too many of my friends and family die like this, cornered and butchered. Would you risk betrayal to save your family? I intend to walk over there and spare Estin. Even if they betray me, I might still buy him another hour or time for On’esquin’s plan.”
Raeln looked over at Yoska, who shrugged. Sighing, Raeln released Feanne’s arm.
She watched him a second long
er before rolling her shoulders to flop the cloak back over her body, covering everything but her nose. He could barely make out her eyes, sadly watching the ground at his feet. “I’m sorry for what is to come,” she whispered as she turned to walk away. “This will hurt me far more than you, if you are careful. Much more.”
Raeln watched as Feanne crossed the ravine to Liris, barely lifting her paws high enough to clear the shallow snow, her toe-claws leaving thin drag marks as she went. She was a defeated woman who knew she would watch her allies die. Raeln could not even hate her for it. Had he been in her place with Greth’s life hanging on whether he surrendered, he honestly could not say he would not have made the same choice.
Behind Liris, the others had fanned out, ready for battle, though they stared at Feanne in confusion and hatred. From what he could see, they did not agree with Liris’s choice, but they were willing to abide by it for the moment. Raeln saw one man near the back summon white-hot flames to his hand and dismiss them immediately. Their control over their hatred was extremely limited.
“Name who you would spare,” Liris said, loudly enough that Raeln and Yoska could hear. “Give me one name and they will walk out of here alive, if I can make it happen. I cannot force this person to surrender, but if they do, you have my word that they will not be harmed today.”
Lowering her head so Raeln could no longer see Feanne’s face past her nose, she said just barely audibly, “My mate, Estin. I would spare him.”
“I thought so,” remarked Liris, motioning for Feanne to back away. Obediently, Feanne stepped behind the Turessian line, between them and the waiting corpses. “You have heard my oath, my family. No harm is to come to Estin, the wildling still inside the tunnel. Subdue him by any means possible but do not kill him. All of the others are yours. Break them.”
Two of the robed Turessians stepped to Feanne’s sides, clearly anticipating she might change her mind or try something foolish, though Raeln could see none of them had any fear of her. They had no way of knowing she had remembered her past, for whatever good that did her…or Raeln and the others. Raeln had not once thought the woman to be a coward until she faced him across that field, and he prayed Estin would never find out what she had done. Her betrayal would crush him as easily as her death had, even if it was done for his sake.
“I have chased you across two nations, but there is nowhere left to run,” Liris said as she approached, stopping outside of Raeln’s reach. “Do you know why I was chosen to hunt down your band of misfits, Raeln?”
“Don’t know, don’t care,” he snapped back, watching Yoska from the corner of his eye. The man was attempting to look relaxed, but Raeln could see he was tensed to strike. He had flipped one of his knives over and was holding it ready to throw.
Smiling pleasantly, Liris lowered her hood, the winds whipping her long hair around her face. She closed her eyes for a second, seemingly enjoying the wind, before looking at Raeln again. “My family kept wildlings as servants for generations. Wolves, at that,” Liris said, sliding off her gloves and throwing them onto the snow. She raised her face to the sky and smiled, breathing deeply before looking back at Raeln and continuing. “The other clans told us that we should get rid of them. Filthy beasts, they called you. We were as loyal to our servants as others were to their kin. We gave your kind shelter and food, in return for loyalty. We shielded you, keeping the other clans from killing you during raids. In the end we allowed your kind to fight beside us. We were rewarded with brutality. Three wildlings who had been with us their whole lives murdered my parents and two other members of the clan while trying to flee our lands.
“I watched my father choke to death on his own blood,” Liris went on, unfastening her cloak and letting that, too, fall. She stood in a belted black robe and her polished boots, faint steam rising from her nose when she exhaled in the bitter cold. “When Dorralt asked me to join him, I was lost, confused, and angry. He gave me one mission and I have done it faithfully for centuries: find and kill wildlings. I don’t ask why and I don’t argue. Others are sent after orcs in hopes of finding On’esquin, but my duties are simple. Destroy any chance of this idiotic prophecy from coming true by killing every wildling I can find, with preference toward those with black-and-white fur or whose offspring could be colored that way. None of us believe in the prophecy, but Dorralt wanted to be certain.
“I am good at what I do, Raeln. I take pleasure in it because I was not the one who started this bloodshed. Wolves…beasts like you…they began my war against wildlings. I could not care less about Estin and the fox, but you have a special place in my heart. You, I will not kill with magic. That would be far too impersonal. You, I want to feel die, the way my parents died…suffering and acutely aware that no one can save you.”
Stepping out of the entrance to the tunnel, Raeln walked right up to Liris, whose smile broadened as he came into reach. As he stood there, Yoska centered himself in the tunnel entrance to keep anyone from slipping inside.
“I did not kill your parents,” Raeln told her, bowing before her as he had long ago been taught as a formal preparation for battle with an equal. “I will accept your challenge, though. No magic. You and I, right here. Your people will stay back…unless you are a coward who needs their help to kill one wildling. Does your word even mean anything anymore?”
Liris’s smile dropped away as Raeln finished talking. Slowly, she turned back to the other Turessians standing with Feanne. “These are the Turessian council members,” she explained, gesturing broadly at them. “Eight primary clans, eight members. They speak for our people as a whole. Though we all answer to our one master, they represent the dignity of several thousand good people and their family servants. They will hold me to my oath, so long as Dorralt does not disagree…and given that it is me talking to you and not him, I would not anticipate disagreement.”
Raeln thought back to his sister’s gradual decline into madness as she fought Dorralt’s control over her own body. Liris was clearly insane, but he could not hate her for it—she had been fighting Dorralt’s influence for centuries. He doubted anyone could remain sane after so long. She was a victim here too. It was difficult to keep that in mind, but he wanted to never let that escape him. Given different events, it could have been his sister standing there, making the same offers.
Turning her attention fully back to Raeln, Liris mimicked his bow, though she did not take her eyes off him. As she came up, she lunged at him, trying to overpower him. He deflected her attack, moving aside to force her to turn and reestablish her balance. The blow, even glancing, was hard enough that Raeln’s arm ached. He did not remember her being quite so strong the last time they had fought, but he had been aided by Dalania that time.
That one simple movement taught Raeln much he needed to know about the woman. She was angry but fighting to keep calm and react to his movements. She was strong but with little understanding of how to use that strength effectively. There was much he could use in that to stall, but he knew full well that no matter what he could do, even executed perfectly, she would eventually wear him down and kill him without hesitation.
It would have been easy to let himself lose, ending the pain of struggling on against the Turessians and the war that went on and on. In days past he would have gladly welcomed a mistake that cost him his life, if only to rejoin Greth somewhere that they could never be hurt again. But now, after seeing so much of the world that he had never intended to travel, he knew that would never do. Greth would welcome him only if he did everything in his power to save his friends. Anything less and death would be as lonely as life.
Tying his calm to the paper-thin resolve to save anyone he could at any cost, Raeln embraced his anger and kept one thought in his mind as he and Liris slammed into one another, trying to get the upper-hand. His sword glanced off of Liris’s forearms, cutting flesh but causing no lasting damage. A few swings later he felt his sword’s blade shatter and he cast it aside, relying instead on fists and claws.
; He thought about Greth, tortured and near death from the blades of Yoska’s daughter. He kept the image of Greth’s still corpse and his forgiving stare, which had remained in death, excusing Raeln for failing to save him. That singular moment gave Raeln the strength he needed, slamming Liris into the stone wall of the ravine hard enough that rocks fell from above from the impact.
“Did they suffer, you wonder?” Liris asked, forcing Raeln back a step as she pushed off the wall, his paws sliding in the snow as he tried to hold her unsuccessfully. He was more than a foot taller than her and yet she had far more strength than him. “The children of your village…they screamed as their own parents slit their throats. Some we used to kill their parents. Will you scream like the children or like the adults who knew that there was no hope?”
With one final push, Liris threw Raeln backward. He tumbled and came back onto his feet as she reached him, trying to land a punch to his head that he narrowly avoided. Given the strength in the small woman, Raeln had no doubt that a solid blow to his head would have at least stunned him, if not outright killed him.
“I saw them all die, you know,” she continued, circling him, smiling wickedly. “They cried for their village warriors to save them. Some even called your name out. They cried for Raeln, Ishande, and Rolus, but no one came to help. Those who came were ours.”
Raeln struggled to remain calm, all of his training teetering on the razor’s edge of fury. He knew what she was doing and refused to fall prey to it. Instead, he feinted one way before changing up his attack and landing a solid punch to the woman’s midsection. Using her sudden loss of balance, he twisted to the side, hooked her shoulder with his arm, and wrenched it as hard as he could. With a grotesque snap, the bones broke and Liris collapsed as he moved out of her reach.
Laughing, Liris got back up as her arm snapped and shifted, the bones mending within seconds. “Did you know what your so-called sister’s last thoughts were?” the woman asked, resuming her incessant circling while rubbing at her shoulder. “She thought you were a coward and a weakling. She hated you for loving the other wolf…Greth, was it? She died thinking that you had abandoned her.”