by Sandell Wall
Remus scanned the battlements. He could see no movement, no tops of helmets looking down on them. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the city. “Hello! Does anyone man the walls? Is anyone alive in there?”
They waited with bated breath, straining to detect an answer. Nothing stirred. Umgragon sat silent and foreboding, unconcerned with the plight of those outside its walls.
“It is a city of the dead,” Pricker said in Remus’s mind.
Remus moved closer to investigate the gateway doors. At least three times his height, and banded with steel, the stout wooden doors would require a siege engine to breach. He slammed a fist against one—it did not budge. With a curse, he shook his bruised hand.
“Did you expect to batter your way in?” Tethana said.
“Always check to see if it’s unlocked before trying to break in,” Remus said.
Abandoning any hope of of entering through the main gate, Remus walked toward the small tunnel off to the side. Inside, the walls and ceiling of dark stone felt suffocating. He could see light at the other end, but when he reached the middle, he found a portcullis blocking the way. Iron bars as thick as his arm formed a latticework that even a child could not squeeze through. He grabbed the barrier with both hands and shook it in frustration. It was as solid as the gates—it did not even wiggle.
“Blast,” Remus said. He turned around, inspecting the tunnel, trying to come up with an idea. He spotted Pricker silhouetted against the light at the mouth of the passage.
“Can this gauntlet bend metal?” Remus asked, sending the frustrated question to Pricker through the circlet
“No, but the girl’s stone can disintegrate it,” Pricker replied.
“Tethana’s stone? Why can her stone do something mine cannot?”
“I was a soldier, not a scholar. It was only important for me to know that different colored stones held different powers. Red dominates and destroys. Green harnesses the power of nature to heal and protect and has the power to weaken and degrade anything made by the hands of man.”
A rune flashed into Remus’s mind. It burned with green fire.
“How many colors of vessel stones are there?” Remus said.
“I’ve given you the rune you need. Don’t question me further,” Pricker said.
Remus held back an angry retort. He did not like this new Pricker.
“Pricker says your stone can break down this gate,” Remus said to Tethana. She stood by his side at the portcullis.
“I want nothing to do with his Drathani knowledge,” Tethana said, her back rigid. “This stone was entrusted to me to protect the Volgoth people. If there were a way to take down this gate with it, I would know. If I don’t know of it that means it’s forbidden.”
Remus placed a hand on the small of her back. He spoke quietly so that only she could hear. “I don’t trust him either, but he’s helped us get this far. We have to get through these bars, or what’s left of the Volgoth people will die out there. I’m not asking you to trust Pricker, I’m asking you to trust me. Please.”
Tethana turned to look into Remus’s eyes. He held her gaze, hoping she saw the sincerity of his words and the affection he felt for her.
“You do it then,” she finally said. “I cannot.” She handed her vessel stone to Remus.
Stone in hand, Remus turned to Pikon. “Let me use your dagger. An Ethari blade scars metal far easier than one of iron or steel.”
Pikon handed over his dark, barbed weapon. Curved where most daggers were straight, the thing was a literal claw torn from some great insectoid monstrosity. It was as light as a feather in Remus’s hand. The chitinous blade ended in a needle point.
Remus knelt before the iron portcullis and scratched the point against the metal. The hard surface parted like skin under a blade, the wound revealing fresh, untarnished iron. When he was finished, the rune in his mind was inscribed on one of the bars of the barricade.
He passed Tethana’s green vessel stone over the rune and it ignited instantly. The metal sizzled and crackled. The rune flared to a blinding brilliance—Remus had to turn away. He waited for his eyes to readjust to the dim lighting, and then he inspected his handiwork.
The metal bar appeared unchanged, but when he touched it with his hand, it felt brittle and frail. He suspected that with enough force it would simply snap in two. Encouraged by his findings, he attacked the rest of the portcullis. The metal barricade was at least ten feet wide. It took him the better part of an hour to repeat the process on every bar. Monstur was loath to enter the tunnel of black stone, but Remus finally convinced the giant barbarian that he needed help. The tree branches on Monstur’s armor scratched against the roof of the tunnel. Using those branches to secure himself, Remus sat on Monstur’s shoulder to reach the bars that disappeared into the ceiling. When the rune had flared on the last bar, he hopped off Monstur and dropped to the floor.
“Alright, Monstur,” Remus said. “Tear down these bars.”
Monstur contemplated the barricade. He placed an experimental hand on the latticework and pushed—nothing happened. He gripped the bars with both of his massive hands and heaved backward. The portcullis creaked, but did not give. After several more unsuccessful attempts to topple the portcullis, Monstur shooed the rest of them back out of the tunnel. He knelt and placed Shim on the ground, pausing for a heartbeat to scratch the forest cat under the chin. Then he stood, hefted his tree trunk maul, and ran full speed into the tunnel.
Remus raced to the mouth of the tunnel just in time to see Monstur smash into the portcullis. The barbarian used his maul like a battering ram. With a tremendous crash, the weakened bars snapped and the entire latticework toppled to the floor. Three more feet of iron bars dropped out of the ceiling and slammed to the earth. The passageway was open.
“The might of the forest has breached your pathetic walls!” Monstur bellowed from within the tunnel.
“Stay here and guard the tunnel,” Remus said to Pikon. “I’ve no doubt the refugees will try to storm the city. They can follow behind us, but we’re going in first.”
“As you wish,” Pikon said.
“Come on,” Remus said to Tethana. “Let’s get back to the survivors and tell them we’ve found a way inside.”
Marthis grabbed Remus’s arm before he could take a step. “You don’t have to treat us as enemies, lad. We’re on your side.”
Remus jerked his arm out of Marthis’s grip. “I don’t know you, and I don’t know your people. You’re not an enemy, but you’re no ally either. I’ll decide what to do after we see what’s happened inside the city.”
Marthis looked like he wanted to argue, but then he nodded. “That’s fair. We’ll wait for your people to enter first and then follow behind.”
Remus and Tethana returned to the waiting survivors. Within the hour the Volgoth were filing through the tunnel and into the city. Remus watched only long enough to ensure that there would be no trouble. When he was confident everyone would get inside in a timely fashion, he gathered up Tethana, Pricker, Monstur, and Pikon’s squad and entered the city himself. Before he stepped into the tunnel, he looked back out over the plains. The storm was close. They had reached shelter with only hours to spare.
I hope these walls are our salvation, not our tomb.
Chapter 21
AFTER HER AUDIENCE WITH the emperor, Aventine had been thrown head first into her new duties as a captain in the Rune Guard. Desperate for help, Narin entrusted much to her, and Aventine rose to the challenge. Only a small fraction of Rune Guard survived, one hundred where there had once been over a thousand, and most of them were inexperienced. She had replaced the battered armor scavenged from Fort Delgrath with the gleaming platemail of a Rune Guard Captain. Narin had issued her a runestone as a replacement for the one she had lost in the Wilds.
Aventine found herself running daily training exercises, making sure the needs of the soldiers in her care were met, and doing her best to keep their spirits up. Preoccupied w
ith the war beyond the walls of Amalt, Narin had no time to see to these duties. Aventine found a kindred spirit in Narin. She admired and looked up to the woman and did everything in her power to help ease the burden of command that Narin carried.
Lady Athlain was infuriated by Emperor Pontius’s renewed confidence in the Rune Guard, but she could do little more than fume and cast dark looks at Aventine when their paths crossed in the corridor. Narin told Aventine to ignore the leader of House Drackon. Aventine’s runeforged blades were returned to her by a chagrined soldier. With their familiar weight once again hanging from her back and thigh, she felt complete again.
On the seventh day after speaking with the emperor, Aventine sought out Holmgrim and Saffrin. She had been unable to find the time to speak with them at length since arriving in Amalt. Determined not to neglect her companions, she set aside her duties for a few hours and ventured to the guest quarters where they were housed. Out of respect for their service to the empire, Holmgrim and Saffrin had been put in the private wing reserved for visiting dignitaries. It was the only part of the castle not given over to caring for soldiers and refugees. It was also empty. Holmgrim and Saffrin had the entire wing to themselves.
Aventine paused to speak with the guard stationed outside the entrance to the suites. “Are they inside?”
“They hardly leave,” the guard said with a smirk. He gave Aventine a knowing wink.
“So they’re here, then?” Aventine said, surprised by the guard’s conspiratorial gesture.
“Go see for yourself.”
Aventine stepped past the guard, ignoring his odd behavior. Unlike the rest of the castle, the private guest wing was covered in ornate and ostentatious decoration. The lush carpet felt strange beneath her metal-shod feet. Rich tapestries lined the walls and hung from the ceilings. Every door was gilded with gold and polished to a sheen. She could see her reflection in the wood. Astounding and wondrous works of art were scattered throughout the suites, the artistic styles and tastes of every imperial province on display. Fascinated, Aventine could not tear her eyes from an anatomically correct marble statue.
Her inspection of the human form was interrupted by a noise. Very faint, and on the edge of her hearing, it sounded like someone was struggling. Slowly, quietly, Aventine unsheathed her chain-linked daggers. At the end of the hall one of the doors was ajar. The sound came from inside the room. Thankful now for the thick carpet, Aventine padded to the door. She paused for a heartbeat, waiting for the sound to come again. There was a thump and a moan of what sounded like pain.
Aventine raised her foot and smashed the door open with a brutal kick. A small part of her winced at the gash her armored foot left in the beautiful wood, but then she was through, her daggers burning in her hands. She stumbled to a stop, stupefied by what she saw. The door swung open to reveal Saffrin hurtling across the room, a tangled mess of green dress and dark hair. The woman crashed to a halt against a table covered in refreshments. She immediately busied herself with straightening her garments and hair and then set about pouring wine into three ready glasses.
“Aventine,” Saffrin said, her voice shaky. “Welcome.”
Aventine’s eyes slid to Holmgrim. He was sitting in a chair facing Saffrin. A silk shawl that matched Saffrin’s dress was on the floor at his feet. Holmgrim rubbed a hand over his face and down his tunic, smoothing out the wrinkles in the clothing. With a sly kick, he flicked the green scarf out of sight with his foot.
“Are you okay?” Aventine asked as she let her daggers extinguish. She pretended that she had not seen the scarf.
“Oh, aye!” Holmgrim said, a little too loudly. “Happy to see you. What brings you to the guest wing?”
“I came to see how the two of you were doing.”
Holmgrim smiled, seeming to come to himself. “We’re fine. Feeling a bit useless, stuck in here, but we’ve, ah, found ways to entertain ourselves.”
Saffrin let out a strangled cough.
By the gods, what did I interrupt? Have they abandoned flirtation and become lovers?
Saffrin turned to Aventine, a tray of refreshments in her hand. Her face was flushed. “Will you join us? We were just about to eat.”
“I’d love to,” Aventine said with a smile. The awkward moment passed, and the three of them sat down at a small table in the corner of the room. Saffrin spread out a selection of fresh cheeses, meats, bread, and fruit. Along with the wine, it was a meal fit for a lord. They ate in silence, and Aventine was content to enjoy their company. It reminded her of being on the road.
When they were finished, Holmgrim leaned back from the table. “I hear you’re the youngest Rune Guard to ever make captain.”
“I was only promoted because there was no one else,” Aventine said.
“Nonsense,” Holmgrim said. “Your new rank suits you, as does that fancy armor. You were ready for it.”
“My first assignment was investigating a murder. Nothing in my training prepared me for that.”
“A murder?” Saffrin said in alarm. “In the castle?”
“Aye,” Aventine said. “Someone broke into the armory. They slit the throat of the guard stationed outside. Funny thing is, nothing was missing. We found evidence of a search, but whatever they were looking for, they didn’t find it.”
“Did you catch the killer?”
Aventine shook her head. “Too many people are coming and going to have any idea who it might be. Our best guess is that it was a deserter going to join the traitors. Maybe they thought they would find rune weapons to take with them.”
“What news is there from outside the province?” Saffrin asked, changing the subject.
“Narin says that the traitor’s army is slowly marching this way,” Aventine said. “They’re disorganized, but their numbers are growing.”
“Can we hold out against them?”
“We might be able to, but the losses on both sides would be terrible. Emperor Pontius intends to try and negotiate, to offer amnesty to those who never had any intention of being drawn into open rebellion. We hope this will delay, or even eliminate the threat of a siege.”
“What role can the two of us play?” Holmgrim asked. “Not that we haven’t enjoyed the rest, but I think both of us would prefer to be working.”
“If you want to help, you could lend your talents in the castle smithy,” Aventine said after thinking it over. “We’re in dire need of talented blacksmiths.”
“My hands yearn to swing a hammer again. It’s been too long. But what will Saffrin do?”
“I could use someone with your governing experience,” Aventine said to Saffrin. “I’ve been tasked with rationing and distributing what little food we have left, but I’ve never managed something like this. Will you help me?”
“Gladly,” Saffrin said. “That’s a task I’m uniquely suited for.”
Holmgrim rubbed his hands together and grinned. “I can already feel the heat of the forge! When can we start? Will you make the introductions?”
“I can take you there now,” Aventine said, inspired by his enthusiasm.
“Perfect,” Holmgrim said. His eyes flicked to Saffrin. “If it’s okay with Saffrin, that is.”
“Of course,” Saffrin said. “Go with Aventine, I’ll see you later.”
Aventine hid a smile behind her hand. Watching Holmgrim ask Saffrin for permission was both the sweetest and funniest thing she had seen in a long time. He had come a long way from the gruff, bearded blacksmith she had encountered in the ruins of Fort Delgrath.
“I’ll return for you within the hour,” Aventine said to Saffrin as she and Holmgrim made for the door.
“I’ll be ready,” Saffrin said. “That will give me time to change into something more appropriate.”
The door thudded shut behind Aventine as they stepped into the hall. Aventine led the way, walking in silence until they left the suite guard behind. She ignored the guard’s obvious wink.
When they were alone in the hall, she spoke. “So
the two of you are lovers?”
Holmgrim stumbled, coughed, and then swore. “Damnation, girl. Do you always have to be so blunt?”
“I meant no offense,” Aventine said with a shrug. “You don’t have to answer.”
“No, it’s alright. You just caught me off-guard, is all. What happens between me and Saffrin is our business, but to answer your question, we love each other.”
“How long have you known?”
“I don’t rightly know. It snuck up on me. We’ve grown so close that I’ve forgotten what life was like without her. I know you think me an old man, but this is new for me. I walked a hard road before settling in Delgrath, there was no time or place for a companion. And then when I did put down roots to make a life, I was a worn-down old Volgoth, the only one of my kind in the entire empire. Women and children gave me a wide berth. I set aside dreams and desires and focused on my work.
“That was enough for me, until I met Saffrin. I was impressed by her courage and strength from the very start. She saved my life more than once during the fighting in the mountains. By some miracle of the gods, she’s as drawn to me as I am to her.”
They stopped at a wide window to look out over the sea as they talked. Holmgrim rested his brawny forearms on the white stone as he leaned against the low wall. Hundreds of feet above the ocean, the view was breathtaking. Far below them, the docks of the Amalt port extended into the bay. The sheer cliffs that supported the great, white fortress formed a natural wall on the west side of the harbor.
“I don’t know how it’s supposed to work,” he said. “All I know is that I love her, and I don’t want to go back to living without her.”
“I’m a soldier,” Aventine said. “I’ve given no thought to love or companionship. I don’t have the time. But I’m happy you’ve found each other. What of Wranger? He’s still her husband.”
“I know. I try not to think too far ahead. I focus on one day at a time, trying to enjoy this time we have together. We’ll face the challenges of tomorrow when they arrive.”