by Sandell Wall
“We’ve occupied this fort for a month now,” Remus said. “No one’s come looking. I don’t think the empire is in any better shape than we are.”
“All the more reason not to attack them,” Ellion said.
“Good thing you're staying behind then, isn’t it?” Remus said. “But I don’t expect a fight. If the Legion was still in Delgrath, they would have marched out here weeks ago.”
While they talked, the squad formed up in the courtyard in front of them. Torchlight glinted off of armor and weapons. In the pre-dawn darkness, the soldiers looked like a veteran band of mercenaries ready to go to war. They watched Remus, Grotius, and Ellion with curiosity. Remus knew the men expected to march into the Wilds.
He stepped forward and addressed the entire squad. “I hate to disappoint you, but we’re not killing thralls today. We have orders to march into the empire and scout Delgrath.”
At these words the men started to murmur amongst themselves. Remus knew exactly what they were thinking.
“This is not your chance at freedom. Ellion must remain behind as a hostage to guarantee our return. If any of you think to trade his life for yours, you’ll have to get through me first.”
“And me,” Grotius spoke up from behind Remus. “I’ll not risk Ellion’s life because one of you idiots is homesick.”
“Let’s move out,” Remus said, pointing toward the open gate. Without bothering to march or keep formation, the soldiers grouped up and walked out of the fort. Remus turned and took his shield and axe from Ellion, who had collected them from the armory while he spoke to the men. Grotius was at the head of the squad, and Tethana had gone with him. Remus and Ellion found themselves alone.
“I know Grotius is hard on you, but it’s only because he sees so much potential,” Ellion said. “He challenges and tests you because he thinks you can handle it. He was a masterful teacher in the Legion, bringing out the best in every recruit in his squad.”
“It doesn’t feel like teaching,” Remus said.
“Of course not, but reflect on where you are now, and consider how much you’ve learned from him. Even with his help, it’s a miracle you’ve got this far.”
“And what if I’ve surpassed him? At some point, the student becomes the master. Can Grotius accept that when the time comes?”
Remus did not wait for Ellion to respond. He slipped his axe over his back and jogged out of the fort after his men. Silent in the shadows on the wall, the lone Volgoth guard watched him depart.
——
Three hours later Remus walked at the head of his squad down the dirt road toward Delgrath. Frustration and anger was building inside him. Goregash and the Ethari ordered him around like a resource to be used and discarded. If he could get his hands on the Drathani overseer’s control gauntlet, that would change, but marching into Delgrath was taking him farther from that goal, not closer.
The morning sun had risen over the treetops behind them. Crops had been planted in the sprawling fields, and in the sun's weak yellow light, the grain looked pale and sickly. An hour ago they had passed the barn where Gringe killed Pitor. Remus did not point it out, but he looked for any sign of the fossilized insect as they walked by. There was nothing. Foreman Crast must have recovered the stone monster and taken it back to the quarry.
“The empire can’t be in terrible shape if the farmers are still planting crops,” Grotius said from beside Remus.
“Farmers are made from sterner stock than most,” Remus said. “You’d have to drive them off their land by force to stop them from putting seed in the ground, and even then, they’d come back and fight you for it. All this land is wasted if it’s not growing crop.”
“What a strange thing,” Tethana said. “You have to plant seeds to grow food? The forest provides everything for my people.”
“This ain’t food,” Grotius said. “It needs a heartbeat to be food.”
Tethana quirked an eyebrow. “Am I food?”
“Blast it, you know what I mean,” Grotius said. “A man can’t eat just bread.”
“Quiet, both of you,” Remus said. He held up a hand to signal a halt and waited for his men to gather around.
“We’re about an hour out from Delgrath,” Remus said when everyone could hear him. “I’m convinced that the Legion has abandoned the town, and I’m not interested in skulking about in the fields. So here’s what we're going to do: we’ll march into the city like we’re mercenaries. The townspeople won’t know we’re not imperial soldiers, and they certainly won’t challenge us.”
“It’s risky,” Grotius said. “If the Legion left guards, we’ll march straight into them.”
“If it comes to that, I’ll make something up,” Remus said. “We’re all from the empire, and we look the part. We can easily pass as soldiers for hire.”
Despite Grotius’s reservations, Remus saw the men nodding in agreement. They were just as eager as he was to march into the town.
“Just follow my lead,” Remus said.
For the next hour, they traveled in silence. Now and then, Tethana tried to start a conversation, but Remus shut her down every time. He was too busy thinking about Delgrath to be bothered. Two months ago he had marched out of the town as a raw Legion recruit. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Now he returned as a battle-hardened warrior. People would know him. What would Axid think? What would Holmgrim say?
He felt a pang of guilt and sadness at the thought of his former mentor. Remus had worked in Holmgrim’s smithy for eight years before storming out in a fit of anger. Holmgrim had only ever tried to help, and Remus had repaid the smith by cursing him and everything he stood for. As every step took him closer to his old home, Remus started to wonder if he had been wrong. Whatever anger that had burned so hot toward Holmgrim was long gone. He did not doubt that his decision to leave had been the correct one, but he regretted turning his back on the man that had practically raised him.
I’ll find Holmgrim and set things right. He may not approve of—or understand—what I’ve become, but we don’t have to be enemies.
“Did you know Holmgrim when you were in the Legion?” Remus asked Grotius, suddenly realizing that the veteran might have met his mentor before he was born.
“I knew of him,” Grotius said. “But I never met him. He was the master smith, and I was just a lowly recruit. The man was a legend.”
“Holmgrim?” Tethana said. “How do you know this name?” She had stopped walking.
The shock in her voiced caused Remus to stop in the road and look back. He did not want to talk to her, but his curiosity overrode his annoyance. “He was my mentor. I worked in his smithy in Delgrath for many years. He took me in as a child, raised me, and taught me how to swing a hammer.”
Thethana looked uncertain. “He is a man of the empire, then? Holmgrim is a Volgoth name. I thought...”
“Oh no,” Remus said. “He’s a barbarian of the Wilds, there’s no doubt about that. Twice the size and strength of any normal man I’ve ever seen.”
Remus and Tethana stepped aside as the squad marched past. He waved Grotius and the rest of the men on. “Go on,” he said. “We’ll catch up.”
“What’s his name mean to you?” Remus said, giving Tethana his full attention.
“It was before my time, many years ago,” she said. “My mother tells me that she and Goregash have a brother. The three siblings were the only members of the chieftain's family to survive the great fires. This brother was older than Goregash and became chieftain upon the death of their father. My mother says that the brothers disagreed about the future of our people. One wanted war, the other wanted peace. Goregash rallied the tribes to war, defying his older brother’s rule. The older brother was banished and vanished from Volgoth history without a trace. His name was Holmgrim.”
Remus was stunned. He could not speak. From what he knew of Holmgrim, the timeline of the smith’s history could work with what Tethana was saying. And why else would Holmgrim set up his smithy as close to the Wi
lds as he could, but never enter them? All the pieces fit. His former mentor could be the exiled chieftain of the Volgoth.
“Why have you never tried to find him?” Remus asked when he recovered from his surprise.
“Goregash has never forgiven him,” Tethana said. “We are forbidden to even speak his name. If he ever returned to the Wilds, Goregash would spill his lifeblood. My mother told me about him because she remembers her brother fondly and does not wish his memory to be lost forever.”
“All this time I thought he was just a blacksmith,” Remus said, half talking to himself. “If he is who you say, he’s been toiling like a common laborer, living on the border of a land he’s supposed to rule! Why would he accept such a fate? Why would he not return and reclaim what was his by right?”
“My mother says he’s not a killer,” Tethana said. “She says he was always at odds with his father and brother. They were mighty warriors who cared only about battle, strength, and glory. Holmgrim was no less mighty, but he chose to spend his time and energy building and creating instead of sowing death and destruction.”
“Sounds like you don’t share Goregash’s opinion of him,” Remus said.
Tethana paused to stare out over the plains before responding.
“He’s no less my uncle than Goregash is,” Tethana said. “And my mother still cares for him. She misses him. There should be a place for him among his people.”
“Well, you’ll get to meet him in less than an hour,” Remus said. “Come on, we need to catch up.” He turned to jog toward his men, but Tethana’s hand shot out and grabbed his armored bicep.
“Remus—no!” she said. “He cannot know who I am. And you must not even whisper his name in Goregash’s presence. It doesn't matter who you are, or what you’ve done, if Goregash finds out you’re Holmgrim’s friend, he’ll cut you down and feed you to the trees.”
Remus jerked his arm out of her grasp, but he did not respond. He ran hard to catch his men. Soon, he was back at the head of the column. Tethana kept pace with him easily, and he ignored her as she fell into step beside him.
“It warms the heart, it does,” Grotius said when they were walking beside him again. “To see a friendship blossom on the open road.”
“Bite your tongue,” Remus growled.
Grotius chuckled. “He only gets worse, the more you get to know him,” he said to Tethana. “But he fights like a demon and has no fear. So we put up with his attitude.”
Remus’s retort died on his lips as Delgrath appeared on the horizon. Even from a distance, it was clear the town had been sacked. Plumes of smoke fractured the sky where burned out buildings still smoldered. Nothing moved.
The squad was quiet as they marched into the city. Corpses littered the streets. Not the bodies of armored soldiers, but the remains of the city’s occupants, struck down as they fled. Any house that was not boarded up had been torn open and looted. The personal belongings of an entire town were broken and trampled in the muddy road.
“By the thundering hooves of doom, what happened here?” Grotius said.
“Can’t have been the runebound,” Remus said. “They don’t kill—they capture, and they’ve no use for loot.”
Remus called a halt outside the academy.
“Grotius, come with me,” Remus said. “I want to check inside.”
Grotius followed Remus into the wooden, two-story building. On the second floor, Remus went straight for the casting room. Inside, the pillars and platforms that had held the city’s runestones were empty. There was not a single stone left in the room.
“As I thought,” Remus said. “They took the runestones with them.”
“Who did this?” Grotius said.
“My guess would be Lorent and his men. It’s the only possibility that makes sense. This is why we’ve been able to occupy the fort without an entire Legion cohort coming to drive us back into the Wilds. The empire is dying. Lorent must have sacked Delgrath, and marched his forces back into the empire. Probably to defy the emperor.”
“But why loot an entire imperial town? That’s madness.”
“Don’t ask me. Maybe all they wanted were the runestones, but the people would not relinquish them. Whatever the reason, it means Delgrath is ours for the taking.”
Grotius gave him a hard look. “You would hand your hometown to the Volgoth on a silver platter?”
“They can’t do any worse than the empire has already done.”
“Aye, I suppose you’re right,” Grotius said after he considered Remus’s words.
“Come on,” Remus said, heading back to the first floor and his squad.
Back outside, Remus addressed the squad. “Split up. I want groups of ten men each. Search for survivors. Return here in an hour with your report. And if I catch you looting, you’ll be marching back to the fort missing a hand.”
As the squad dispersed, Remus had only one thought in his mind. He led nine of his men across the town, intent on reaching Holmgrim’s smithy. Tethana followed. When they turned the last corner, Remus stumbled at the sight. The smithy was destroyed. Not just burned out—someone had taken the time to tear down every brick and stone and topple every pillar. Anything that could burn was ash. Only the stout forge still stood in the center of the rubble.
“No…” Remus said.
Tethana stood beside him, but she seemed to sense Remus’s anguish and stayed silent.
“This was Holmgrim’s smithy,” he said quietly. He took a few steps forward. “The old fool.”
Remus glanced at Tethana, and with a sweep of his arm and bitter voice he said, “Behold, your uncle's legacy. Here lies the work of fifteen years. Holmgrim came to Delgrath after serving in the Legion. He always said he was looking for a way to do some good with his life. He found me and Axid, took us in and gave us a home—tried to teach us everything he knew. But he made powerful enemies while he was in the Legion, enemies that did not forget him. Two months ago Lorent marched here with his troops, hoping to force Holmgrim to work for him. I’ve no doubt that my old master refused. Here’s the price he paid for his defiance.”
On the road, Remus had thought to reconcile with his mentor. At the academy, he had hoped that somehow Holmgrim held out against the devastation that had consumed the town. But it was not to be. The old man’s past had caught up with him. Remus wanted to be angry, he wanted to feel vindicated for having escaped the same fate. Instead, a deep sadness and melancholy washed over him. He never wanted this. In his mind, Holmgrim was supposed to be a rock that weathered all storms. To find the smithy destroyed was more jarring than anything else Remus had encountered in the last two months. If Holmgrim could be defeated, no one was safe from the vagaries of fate.
Everything I said came true, old man. I didn’t wish this fate for you, but you brought it on yourself.
“What a waste,” Remus said.
“Surely, he must still live,” Tethana said.
“Far from here, perhaps, but his life’s work has come to ruin. If Lorent didn’t capture him, he’s nothing more than a fugitive and a vagabond now.”
Tethana placed a tentative hand on Remus’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Remus jerked away. In his hurt, he was not inclined to be kind. “For what? He was weak. I’ll not repeat his mistake. Fate masters the meek and rewards the strong.”
“You speak like Goregash,” Tethana said. “There’s more to life than strength. If you define yourself only in victory, what happens when you lose?”
“I don’t lose.”
Tethana scoffed. “Nor does Goregash. You know why? Because he only picks fights he can win. He’ll never risk defeat. Even if it means letting others die.”
“I’m not your uncle. I’ve seen his weakness.” Remus turned to stare directly into Tethana’s eyes. “Do you see the same in me?”
It was the first time he had held her gaze. He watched her eyes search his, watched the minute movement of her pupils as she sought to glean some fleeting insight fro
m his face.
“No…” she finally said, her voice distant. She looked away, breaking his stare.
“Then what do you see?”
“I see war.”
“Hah! What a pitiful seer you are. Of course you see war, look around you.”
“No, it’s more than this mess. In you burns a hunger that will never be satiated. Men like you bring fire and destruction.”
“Only to my enemies.”
“And when there are no more enemies?”
Remus had no response. Instead of dwelling on the question, he turned from the smithy and marched off, heading toward the remains of the Legion camp on the outskirts of the town. Tethana followed, as did his men. A few Legion tents still stood, and as Remus drew closer, he realized they were occupied. When he was several hundred feet away, a gaunt figure stepped from the largest tent, watching their approach with lazy disinterest. It was Pricker.
Somehow, Remus was not surprised. Pricker watched as Remus and his men walked to within twenty feet of the tent.
Beside him, one of his men said, “Cocky bastard. Who does he think he is, looking at us like we’re dumb farmers? Why would they march away and leave him here?”
“Easy,” Remus said. “He’s not to be trifled with. He’d tear you apart.”
“That scarecrow? You can’t be serious.”
“I said stand down. I’ll deal with him,” Remus said as he stepped forward. He moved to stand before Pricker.
The strange man was just as ugly as Remus remembered. Whip-thin, with corded muscle wound tight around tendon and bone, Pricker looked like he did not have an ounce of fat on him. His fingers and limbs were too long, stretched to inhuman proportions. Straw-like hair jutted from his scalp at crazy angles. Bulging, bloodshot eyes protruded over huge yellow teeth to give his long face a comical, hangdog appearance. A puckered scar circled his entire skull. Remus knew that scar now. Pricker had been bound by a control circlet.
Before Remus had been captured by the Ethari, Pricker had saved his life. At the time, Pricker’s inexplicable salvation and violent insanity had horrified Remus. But now, while still wary, Remus was no longer terrified of the man. He was a warrior now, and not so helpless as he had been two months ago.