The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  “And if they all die?”

  Lyonette’s face twisted. She looked sad.

  “I guess they died fighting for what they believed in. That’s something. I don’t know.”

  Belief. Pawn’s head lowered. He looked down at something clutched in his hands. It was called a thurible.

  Religion. A class. Leading Soldiers. Thurible. All the pieces came together. Pawn stood up.

  “I know what I must do.”

  “Lead?”

  “Something close to it.”

  The pieces all fit. Pawn was not worthy of being a leader. But he was good at one thing. One thing. And if…

  He started for the door, and stopped to look at Lyonette.

  “Thank you. Your advice helped me greatly.”

  “Don’t go just yet.”

  To his surprise, Lyonette stopped him. She studied him critically.

  “Before you go, you need to learn how to act. If you’re going to lead. Even if it’s just walking with your Soldiers.”

  “Why? What is wrong?”

  “You walk like a peas…like someone afraid of the world. But if you’re leading others, you must do it bravely, gracefully. Like this.”

  Lyonette’s head rose. She stared down at Pawn, and suddenly she looked a bit taller, a bit straighter. He stared.

  “How are you doing that?”

  She smiled and showed him.

  “Head straight, chin up. Look ahead, not down. Straighten your spine…or whatever it is you have. Don’t hunch up. Stand like this.”

  When Pawn walked towards the door this time, he walked straighter than he had in his life. The world seemed a bit lower down, and a bit brighter for some reason. Lyonette walked with him.

  “You’ll be okay? You’ll be safe?”

  “I hope so. But I do not know. I only know…yes, I know what I must do.”

  “And what’s that?”

  Lyonette held the door open for him. Pawn clutched the thurible, a packet of cinnamon, and a few unused coals to his chest. He nodded at Lyonette.

  “I will pray.”

  —-

  They were waiting for him when he returned. They had been there, waiting. He had left them, but they had not left. They had faith he would return.

  Would that he had the same. Pawn stood before his Soldiers and raised his voice. He looked among them, each one different, and each one unique. Precious.

  Irreplaceable.

  “We will go back into battle.”

  They did not stir. This was not a surprise to them. They accepted death like life. But Pawn had to explain.

  “I do not wish for any of you to die. I would rather die than let that happen.”

  They did stir then. The Soldiers looked at Pawn. He bowed his head.

  “You are not just Soldiers to me. You are my people. You should not die. But if you do not fight, others of our kind will die. Either way, we die. We as the Antinium die.”

  The Soldiers looked at each other. Pawn stared down at them.

  “To fight is to die, and that is unbearable. But to do nothing is worse still. If we can fight to protect our people, so that others may live, it is right.”

  They did not nod. But each one of them agreed in his own way. Pawn nodded.

  “But I cannot command. I am no [General], no [Tactician], and no [Mage]. I cannot do anything for you.”

  Silence. Pawn stared at the Soldiers, who looked back. Confused. If he would not lead, who would? The Antinium needed a leader. When Pawn spoke next, it was a whisper.

  “You. Step forwards.”

  He pointed at one of the Antinium, the one with yellow spatters of paint. The Soldier stepped forwards slowly. He was a Soldier like the others. But he had been one of the first Pawn had led above. He had survived. And a Drake grandmother recognized him. These were all small reasons. But enough.

  “I am not worthy of a command. I do not know war. But you do. You have fought longer than I have. You know battle. You know each other. So come. Step forwards.”

  The Soldier approached. Pawn walked towards him, and put a hand on the Soldier’s chest. The Soldier stared down at him. Pawn’s voice was trembling.

  “As Individual Pawn, given command of this unit of Soldiers, I, with the authority of my Hive, promote you. You are no longer a [Soldier]. You are a [Sergeant].”

  The world stopped. The soldier with yellow spatters froze. The other soldiers stared at him. Pawn lowered his hand.

  “It is heavy. It is difficult. But you are fit for command. You can lead the others. You will be their leader.”

  Yellow Spatters stared down at Pawn. The Soldier was filled with emotions he couldn’t name, feelings that words wouldn’t describe. He turned, and suddenly every Soldier in the room was staring at him.

  No. Not every Soldier.

  His Soldiers.

  The knowledge drove Yellow Spatters to his knees. But someone was by his side.

  “You will not be alone. We will go to the front within the hour. I have requested it.”

  We. The word made every Soldier look at Pawn. He was holding something in his hands. The Worker stared around at the other Soldier as he lit a flame.

  “I cannot be your leader. I cannot. But I could never abandon you. I will walk with you in battle. I will be by your side. I will do the only thing I can do.”

  The flame caught. The ember glowed as Pawn held it in a hand. He dropped it into the thurible, and the incense began to burn. It was not frankincense or myrrh. It was cinnamon sticks, ground finely. It was sweet, and the smoke drifted across the Soldier as Pawn walked past them.

  “Come.”

  —-

  Xrn found Klbkch, tired, overseeing a group of Workers as they struggled to repair a wall. Workers and Soldiers filled the Hive, tirelessly moving from place to place.

  “Klbkch. I am told Pawn went to see you.”

  “Yes, he did. It was curious.”

  Klbkch answered shortly, exhausted and tired as he was from fighting. He noticed Xrn staring at him in concern and straightened a bit.

  “What was so odd about it?”

  “Many things. Pawn requested to be assigned to combat duty with his entire unit of Soldiers.”

  Xrn stared at Klbkch. Electric flashes of yellow alarm shot through the green nebula of surprise filling her eyes.

  “All of them?”

  “That is what I said.”

  Klbkch turned to look at Xrn. Surprise was written across the Small Queen’s face, a rare sight. Her voice trembled a bit as she asked the next question.

  “When is he to go into battle?”

  Klbkch smiled.

  “Right now.”

  —-

  The Hive. Workers and Soldiers marched in an unending flow down one of the tunnels. One of many in the Hive. Despite the Antinium’s reputation for silence, the hallways were still filled with sound. The echoes of footfalls, the shifting of bodies—these were all sounds that occupied the air.

  There were no voices, though. The sounds of footfalls, of bodies moving and the air rustling was just noise. There was a kind of silence even when Soldiers were rushing down the tunnels. The silence of those without words.

  And then the silence was broken. A single sound suddenly pierced the repetitive noises, a distinctive aberration.

  Click.

  The sound echoed down the corridor, causing the lines of Soldiers and Workers to slow. It was a sound none of them had heard, not like this.

  Click.

  It was too loud, and it echoed. It was not the click of a single mandible, but countless ones. It was a strange sound, and all the Workers and Soldiers looked around for the source.

  Click.

  There it was again. Now all heads turned to look down the corridor. The Antinium stopped. They looked. And then they stared.

  Someone was walking down the hallway. It was a small shape, like the others. And not.

  A Worker walked slowly down the lines of Antinium, the others parting befo
re him. He held something in his hands. A censer, bound by string. A thurible, leaking smoke that smelled like nothing the other Antinium had ever experienced.

  The incense drifted as the Antinium slowly shook the thurible. He walked forwards, and smoke drifted past him like mist.

  And others followed. Soldiers, the painted few walked, stepping, stopping, following in the Worker’s wake. And then the other Antinium heard it.

  Click.

  Each time they stepped, the Soldier’s mandible clicked together, making that distinctive sound. They made that sound. The Soldier, who had no voice. Yet the sound was an echo, a thunder.

  A word for the voiceless.

  And then those around the Worker heard something else. A resonance. A feeling in the air. Quiet. It came from the Worker.

  He was…humming. The other Antinium had never heard a sound like it. Pawn’s voice was low, deep, and resonant. It should not have filled the huge tunnel, but it did.

  Click.

  Each Soldier’s mandible snapped together at the same time. The sound was louder than any Rock Crab could ever make, a snap that broke the air and echoed for miles in the Hive.

  Click.

  Another step.

  Click.

  The Antinium parted, and Pawn and the painted Soldiers followed him. Workers and Soldiers alike paused in their duty, going to war, carrying supplies, going to rest. Each one saw something, heard something they had never experienced in that moment.

  Each one.

  “I do not understand.”

  Tersk clutched at his bare chest. His hands met only chitin, and he stared as Belgrade used his two good arms to support himself against a wall. Tersk’s voice was hoarse, strained.

  “I cannot express this word. This feeling. What is it? I see Pawn. But it is not just him. There is something…”

  His voice trailed away. Belgrade stared at Pawn as the Worker walked the halls of his Hive. To battle. His head was lowered, and the Worker prayed. Behind him, the Soldiers did the same. Belgrade had a word for it, and he spoke it for Tersk to hear.

  “Faith.”

  —-

  They watched as the Antinium passed. They alone saw and understood the rest. Xrn clutched at Klbkch’s arm, so tightly he thought his body might break.

  “Oh Klbkch. Do you see him? He is just like we were once.”

  “He is not. It is not…not the same.”

  It was pride that made Klbkch say that. But he couldn’t take his eyes off of Pawn. The click of the Soldier’s mandibles echoed in his soul. He saw another group in their shadow. Antinium of the past, long gone.

  Heroes.

  Xrn shook her head, her eyes not leaving Pawn.

  “No. It is exactly the same. They have not forgotten Klbkch. These fragments, these children, they have the same spirit. The same courage.”

  She whispered.

  “They are Antinium.”

  —-

  He had no name. He was a Soldier. He had no identity. If there was any way to distinguish him now, it would be Soldier with a Damaged Antennae. Both of his had been damaged in a skirmish with cave Goblins.

  Now Soldier with a Damaged Antennae fought desperately, punching with his fists at a huge suit of enchanted armor. Soldier with a Damaged Antennae had no fear, but he realized he would die. The suit of armor had lost his axe, buried in two of Soldier with a Damaged Antennae’s friends, but he was too tough.

  Too strong. The armor struck Soldier with a Damaged Antennae with a kick that broke something in the Antinium’s chest. The Soldier stumbled, fell. He put one of his hands to his chest as he grabbed the armor with his other three hands and tried to hold him back.

  Green blood. A lot of it. This was it. Soldier with a Damaged Antennae tried to muster the strength to fight, but his arms gave in despite themselves. The armor threw him to the ground and raised a foot. Soldier with a Damaged Antennae stared up, waiting for death.

  Then there was color.

  Someone charged into the suit of armor, throwing it backwards. The fallen Soldier stared, as a Soldier with yellow spatters of color on his carapace tackled the enchanted armor, throwing it backwards. A huge fist rose, and then smashed into the enchanted armor’s chest plate.

  Aid had come. Soldier with a Damaged Antennae struggled to rise. The other Soldier could not do it alone. But he was so weak! Soldier with a Damaged Antennae stumbled up.

  And then he saw it. A fallen suit of armor, chest plate caved in. The Soldier with yellow spatters of paint rose, uninjured, and turned. He raised an arm and the ground shook. Soldiers painted in every color thundered past him.

  Soldier with a Damaged Antennae had no words for it. These Soldiers were like him, but not. They were painted, with colors. That was all, but they seemed larger. Stronger. More alive.

  The Soldier with yellow spatters led the charge. They charged towards a Crypt Worm, fearless. And the Soldier with a Damaged Antennae stared after them. There was a word for them, a word that set them apart from him. The Soldier searched for it, and thought of the word as he stared at the yellow spattered Soldier’s back.

  A hero.

  He staggered. Blood dripped onto his hand. Soldier with a Damaged Antennae began to fall again. But someone caught him.

  A Worker. Soldier with a Damaged Antennae stared at him. The Worker had something that smoked and gave off a pleasant smell in his hand. He caught Soldier with a Damaged Antennae and spoke to him.

  “You will not die. Have faith.”

  He was small, but he walked among the monsters without fear. The Worker carried Soldier with a Damaged Antennae back, as the painted Soldiers fought around him. He prayed, and told the injured Soldier he would live.

  And the Soldier believed. That day he lived. And when he looked up, chest clumsily bandaged, he saw the painted Soldiers marching back. And the Worker was leading them. He might have said otherwise, but they followed him.

  Because they had faith.

  —-

  That night, Pawn sat outside of the Wandering Inn, in the snow. Not much snow; it had been mostly cleared away. But there was no room inside the inn, not for more than a hundred Soldiers.

  He scraped the bottom of his bowl. Today had been bee soup, thick with butter and fat. It was good, and Pawn had eaten his first bowl. He looked around and saw most of the other Soldiers had done the same. But none would speak up, or move. They probably thought that was all.

  “Erin made plenty of soup. There’s enough for everyone to have as much as they want, okay?”

  The Soldiers looked at him. No one moved, not even Yellow Spatters. Pawn smiled a bit. Ah, well, bravery in battle was one thing. He raised his hand.

  “I believe we shall all have seconds, Lyonette.”

  “Coming up!”

  The young woman smiled and came over with a hot bowl, served fresh from the series of pots Erin had made up. She filled Pawn’s bowl, did the same for all the Soldiers nearby, and then paused in front of a bulkier Antinium.

  “A bowl of soup, Prognugator Tersk?”

  “I…yes, please.”

  Tersk held out his bowl and let Lyonette fill it. Some of the soup got on his chest, but that was fine because as he pointed out to Lyon, he was not wearing his armor.

  He had not been wearing his armor for a while. That might have been because his chest was still damaged from battle, but Pawn thought there was another reason.

  Now Tersk approached Pawn and sat awkwardly with him and the other Soldiers. He stared around the quiet hilltop, and then spoke.

  “I suggest using the remains of these Shield Spiders to construct armor for your Soldiers.”

  Straight and to the point. Pawn nodded in approval of the idea.

  “Do you know how to make such armor, Prognugator Tersk? I do not, although I would gladly like to learn how.”

  Tersk nodded and hesitated.

  “The Armored Antinium do not have enough metal to outfit all of our Soldiers. Thus, we use materials like monster hides, or
bark to outfit our Workers and some of our Soldiers. That is a secret my Queen would not wish me to speak of, lest the other Hives hear of it.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yes.”

  They sat together. At last, Tersk sighed.

  “I believe I will regret leaving this place. But it is necessary. My Hive must know of what the Free Antinium have done.”

  “Yes. I also believe imbibing some of Erin’s magical cooking will help with protecting my Soldiers.”

  “Indeed. And if I may take the recipe for this…‘bee soup’ with me, I believe my Queen will rejoice.”

  “I think so, Prognugator Tersk.”

  Pawn sipped at his soup. It was good. He looked across his ranks of Soldiers. Some were injured, but all had wanted to be here. Some were missing. They now rested on the walls of the barracks.

  It hurt. It hurt so much. But they had saved lives. They had fought. This was Pawn’s duty. He bowed his head and Tersk looked at him.

  “What are you thinking, Pawn?”

  “Nothing, Tersk. I am praying.”

  “Oh.”

  After a while, the Prognugator spoke.

  “Would you teach me how?”

  Pawn smiled.

  “It is very simple. All you had to do is have faith. And believe.”

  “In what?”

  The Worker turned and looked across the hilltop. Soldiers raised their heads, looking at him. They all knew the answer.

  “Us.”

  4.16

  Day 59

  The two armies met at the foothills leading up towards the mountains of the High Pass. Columns of Drakes and Gnoll [Soldiers] stood at attention as two groups rode to meet each other.

  They were not enemies, but even so, Thrissiam Blackwing rode with a heavy escort of his officers and soldiers. Out here in the wilderness, ambushes from monsters and other forces was a very real threat, even for an army. And of course there was the matter of formality. That was just as important as concerns of safety.

  As he rode towards the [General] from the other army, Thrissiam made out a few features and placed her at once. The Esdras Coalition or the Earthwatchers, as they were more colloquially known, had sent one of their best. Perhaps their second best, which was their best at the moment since Zel Shivertail had taken a leave of absence.