by S L Gassick
“Theus! Have you seen Aslo? He has been taken in for questioning by Colum and I cannot find them.”
“I have been looking for him myself. ‘Questioning’ you say?”
“Yes, Sir. I believe Aslo has been set-up to look like the perpetrator of the theft, but we both know he is not.” Milius was looking up and down the corridor.
Theus paused and took a long suck of his pipe which clearly annoyed Milius. “But Colum believes he is?” the Headmaster asked, his head bowed.
“Yes Sir, but only based on my information.” Milius stopped looking around, realising that perhaps the Headmaster knows more than he was letting on.
“Colum is a mighty warrior and his judgement has often saved this Valhalla from all kinds of trouble. I am sure if Aslo is innocent, there will be nothing to fear. I just wish they would hurry this up so he can go back to work!” Theus strode off, his head still slightly bowed as if embarrassed by his answer. Milius stared after him in amazement.
He found it beyond belief that the Headmaster could shrug off such an indecency, but then what if Colum is right and Aslo might have some information? He hoped Colum wouldn’t push him too far as the caretaker was but a simple, work-orientated soul and any wrong-doings would surely be a mistake. Theus was right in being so calm. Milius thought he should trust in the appointed leader of Norheath. He looked up at Dramascus the Fourth, the man who some claimed was a monster, others a hero. Milius walked further down the corridor and tried to get rid of an ill feeling deep down in his chest, burning at his heart, leaving Dramascus to watch along the dark corridor, for the rest of eternity.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The sun shone down onto the Valhalla and reflected like a million crystals onto the warm faces of the students. The mood had lightened since the events of the theft, but still the watchful tower kept an eye on its inhabitants. The green hills underneath the huge temple were kneeling and praying to the bright orange sun, bleeding out its colours onto the once blue sky. It was the magic hour, the hour of change, the children flocked out, slowing down to close their eyes and feel the beauty that surrounded them merge with their bodies, breed with their kyu and exert the feeling that, no matter what might come, they were alive here and now.
From the distance came the sound of an enchanting piano; no-one knew who was playing, but it was coming from the inside of the Valhalla; then voices began singing in different tones. It was the choir rehearsal, the sounds etched into the ears of the children and the burning sky lit their souls.
Milius looked at the sun from Cyrene’s empty classroom as it slowly lowered into the depths of the land and he decided to walk back to the caretaker’s room to see if there was anything or anyone there that might help. As he approached the door it suddenly swung open to reveal Colum standing in its way like a giant human wall.
“What’s going on? Did you bring him back?” Milius asked, noticing the snarl appear on Colum’s face.
“We are finished with him,” the dominating figure replied pushing past with another two Knights following him. Their leaving revealed Aslo hiding in the corner of the small room, crying with his many legs curled up, much like a dead spider would look like.
“Wait a second!” Milius rushed back to catch up to Colum, “get back here!”
Milius saw Colum and the two other knights stop. Colum didn’t move. The knights moved in front of their leader and turned to face him. Milius saw Colum give a slight nod. The two knights walked off and Colum turned around to face him.
Milius could see Colum’s eyes staring deep into his soul, his lip snarling slightly like that of an angry dog. He could hear his warm breath heaving in and out of his huge lungs like a machine. Then suddenly he walked right up in front of Milius and stared down at him from his unnatural height. “What the hell are you doing talk to me like that in front of my men?”
“By Gaea, this isn’t about your ego Colum, what have you done to Aslo?” Milius demanded.
“What had to be done young Knight.” Colum went to walk away and Milius grabbed his shoulder.
“Don’t turn your back on me!”
Suddenly Colum whipped round and unexpectedly grabbed Milius by his neck and pinned him up against the wall. They were practically touching noses, and his face became a blur of a single eye.
“You want to push this further, kid? I have fought all my life for this damn Valhalla and what it stands for and then I get kids like you running around thinking they own the place.” Milius tried to struggle out of the grip but Colum was far too strong. “You would never survive in the Norhearth of old. This Valhalla has become full of people like you, you who have lost what we once held sacred and it’s only going to be a matter of time until things have to change again! You’ll see!”
Suddenly the rage in Colum subsided and made way for a sudden fear. Milius recognised that fear. It was a fear of having said too much in anger, something Milius was familiar with. Colum, not wanting him to see this, stepped back and pointed at him, the large metal blade attached to his wrist almost poking the young Knight in the nose. “You’ll see.” And walked off.
Milius stared at Colum’s back until he was gone and went in to see Aslo who had looked like he had cried himself to sleep. Milius turned his face round and saw a bruised, battered and bloody Aslo staring back up at him. One of his eyes had swollen up completely, dry blood caked his entire face, he was missing teeth and part of his nose had been ripped off. The caretaker suddenly came round and all the pain of his body came flooding back and made him cry again.
“Why did they do this?” he asked through a wet, faltering voice.
“I don’t know,” Milius said, “what did you tell them?”
“Just what I told you friend, just what I told you. I don’t know no more than that. They didn’t believe me…”
Any energy Aslo had suddenly wore off. Milius could see that his body was cut, and most likely whipped. They had gone to extreme lengths to produce nothing from a simple groundskeeper. Someone who had never done any harm to anyone, just a lonely old man quite content with his own little space and privacy to get on with. Milius wrapped him in a blanket, he daren’t move him, and decided to get Cyrene to look after him while he worked further on the battle plans.
What was Colum doing? Had he gone mad? Milius thought he certainly looked mad in his frenzy and did not think Colum’s comments about the Valhalla were as faithful as Theus might have thought. He would discuss a plan with Cyrene. Colum was acting suspiciously and they needed to make sure he is acting in the best interest to the Valhalla; so they would spy on him and if he was indeed the mole, Milius would have to kill him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Delay had decided he was going to kill Shui.
It had now just become a question of how.
Shui had busied himself making preparations for the impending battle and drawing up all his resources. He had also become quite attached to this magical object and Delay had decided this would indeed be the source of attack. If he could, he would snatch the object and try to use it against Shui. There was no other way. He did not have the physical capacity to attack him face on, he no longer was able to use kyu and had no access to anything above the dungeon. He had to take the chance.
As he was thinking this, he was sitting outside the study whilst Shui had a meeting. The voices had become raised and interrupted Delay’s train of thought.
“Listen to me Shui! I am not some fool! Theus has sent the boy along with others. I knew nothing of this until it was too late!”
“So?”
“It is the special one. The one he has kept secret for all this time.”
“Then let him come to me. A mere boy does not trouble me.”
“You know as well as I, Shui, what the Fates tell us. And they all point to this boy. I am fearful he will ruin all our plans.”
“Only if he kills me. Which won’t happen.”
“Lirilius rides with them.”
There then came a long s
ilence. Shui was the first to speak.
“He always was a troublemaker.” Then a crunch; Shui must have been eating an apple.
“He was one of the Knights sent to fetch the medallion.”
“Yes, well they didn’t last very long without him. Once again abandoning his comrades! What is it with that man?!”
“Have you learnt anything from them?” asked the voice.
“Nothing of any interest. Once again just pawns in Theus’s game. One that he doesn’t even realise I control.”
“Typical. What of the Queen?”
“She grows stronger each passing day,” Shui sighed, as if bored by the conversation. “Yet still not ready. Soon enough though, everything will be revealed.”
“Have you killed all the Knights?”
“One is dead already. The others I’ll finish in good time. When I’m hungry!” Shui laughed and ate another piece of his apple.
“Goodbye Shui. May we meet again in better circumstances.”
And then the voices stopped. Delay was called in and saw a small purple gas [DG34]in the air suddenly disappear. Shui had been talking to his guest through the power of his kyu which meant it must have been extremely secretive, and with someone also very powerful. Though Delay did not dwell on it for long.
“Delay, could you please fetch me another prisoner?”
Delay nodded and left. He did not realise that these prisoners were knights but now that he did, he could feel a plan hatching.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Milius had gone over it thousands of times in his head. He turned round to the group of men awaiting his result. They were a group of five, of all different shapes and sizes, but all haggard with age. Some had hair protruding from their noses and ears, others had fragile paper skin but they all wore the red cloaks encrusted with Norheath’s emblem as part of the council attire. As useful as the council were, Theus could essentially do whatever he wanted. It wasn’t really much of a democracy but yet it was wise for Milius to keep the council on his side.
“Let me put it this way,” Milius began, “if we had our entire army pit against what I’ve seen of these Undead, then we should just about be able to dispose of them seeing as they are not skilled in combat whatsoever - they are merely fodder.” The men nodded. “However, through their sheer numbers we would lose a lot of men. Which would also mean something else …”
“That our dead men would reawaken and fight against us.”
Milius turned around to see Cyrene had entered, smiling her adoring smile that Milius loved about her. Her head tilted slightly to one side and glasses perched at the end of her nose. She sat down at the back of the room and watched on.
The room had thick, dull beige walls with no windows to make sure there were no eavesdroppers and in the middle sat a white table in the shape of a semi-circle. Sitting on this table were the members of council with Milius stood in the middle addressing them all at once.
“That’s right,” Milius continued, “we would therefore face a potentially unending battle that would only finish once we are all dead. These creatures do not sleep, they do not tire, they do not wait. They are like a crushing wind, and will never stop until everything is destroyed. And they aren’t even our biggest problem…” The group of men started muttering and shaking their heads. “Our biggest problem is our real enemy, the Dark Clans. Their army would be enough to defeat us by themselves, let alone alongside the Undead. The only thing we can do is buy ourselves time by making the strongest defence we can. By looking at the reports, it seems the Undead have become more organised and are amassing west of here and will likely come around to attack from the north. Have we word from any support?”
A tall elderly man spoke up “None. Because of the outbreak, no-one wishes to help us in case they get infected. But the news gets worse.”
“Let me guess,” Theus spoke from the corner of the room. Everyone had guessed he was asleep as usual or wrapped up in his own thoughts. “If we don’t defeat the Undead, they’ll wipe out Norheath. This is why other Valhalla’s have not spoken to me. They fear any help could risk infecting their own, but they would also see to it that Norheath potentially falls from power.”
“This is ludicrous!” spoke Milius. “Why would they commit us to die? We are all with Gaea! We are not the enemies here.”
“Milius,” Theus stood up with a groan and yet from his rest he looked even more tired. “Do you really think they care about us? Since the beginning this has been the most powerful Valhalla of all. But yet our numbers are dwindling, they see this as their chance to take over Norheath as their own.”
“Whose own? Who would do this?”
“That’s just it. This could begin another war against the lands. More people dying over who loves Gaea more, all of us playing into the Dark Clan’s filthy hands. I do not expect help from the others, in fact I would not put it past any of them to be working alongside Shui.”
This caused an uproar in the group of men. The tall one began again, “Theus! I am sure it is merely due to the threat of infection, but these thoughts have no basis. I would believe the stress has gotten to you!”
“It is known I am not well-liked outside of Norheath;, my former glories having been at other people’s expense. But I have merely tried to do what is best for this Valhalla; however I never would have believed the rot to have run this deep. Within these very walls, to create such a situation like this is despicable. We are in our darkest hour fellow knights, we all look defeat in the face, we have no allies that wish to help us, a lot of us have died already, the entire race could still yet perish and it will be on our heads. All this, from one tiny piece of metal. My sole hope is that once Shui rules the lands, he can sustain the human race.”
“No,” Milius marched up to the large window overlooking the landscape. “There is another hope.”
“He knows of the boy?” Theus thought.
“The knights,” Milius continued. “We have yet to hear the outcome of their mission. They may still retrieve the Kalad and we could even launch a counter-strike to defeat the Dark Clans once and for all. I have prepared for every possible situation.”
Theus nodded and left the room to a quiet, thick atmosphere that made Milius suddenly feel like he was going to faint. He quickly sat down and realised he had not eaten anything for quite a while. Cyrene rushed to his side while the men had begun conversing between themselves. “Are you okay?”
“I think so,” Milius answered. “I need to get out of here.”
“Let me make you dinner. You need a rest; there’s not much more you can do here. You have prepared for every eventuality; the rest is in Gaea’s hands.”
Milius looked around to see the group of old men following Theus outside the room. The headmaster just stood there, eyes glazed over, like he had already given up. Milius was growing angrier with every passing hour with Theus’s inaction.
“I need to get some air.”
Milius and Cyrene walked outside the heavy gates to the open heavens outside to clear his thoughts. The breeze felt cool against his skin and the leaves blowing in the wind reminded him that he was alive. The sky was clear and the sun was warm.
Cyrene helped him down the hill as they made their way towards her cottage. Along the way Cyrene was greeted by other villagers and passing merchants, all of whom seemed to take a shine to the young lady and had seemed to be unaware of the threat their way of life was facing.
Milius wondered why no-one recognised him anymore, he was one of the most infamous knights of the land, yet no-one batted an eyelid. Cyrene looked at him and realised what he was thinking.
“Milius, these people do not recognise you because you have changed so much since your run in with the Undead.”
“Surely not that much.”
“I have seen it. You have grown older, your hair has turned a slight grey at the edges and you have lost a considerable amount of weight.”
“Grey? That’s impossible. I’m still too young. And
I guess maybe I’ve been forgetting to eat, what with the stress. This does feel slightly loose.” He began pulling on his shirt and Cyrene laughed.
“Then let’s get some grub inside you.”
They walked up to Cyrene’s isolated cottage, which looked up at the Valhalla from the next hill. It was well-kept but felt slightly empty in its neatness, in fact it needed messing up slightly to make it feel less claustrophobic. It was tidy to the point of obsessive, but still had that warm, sweet scent Cyrene always carried with her. Milius felt his muscles loosen and his body relax.
“I’ll be right back,” said Cyrene and disappeared into the kitchen.
Hanging on the pale walls were paintings of Norheath, framed with fine gold and matched by an assortment of unused cutlery and dishes. There was a collection of flowers hanging in a glass frame and an unusual piece of wood carved of a man fishing, lying on top of a tiny table in the corner of the room. It drew Milius’ attention and he made his way towards it before Cyrene came back from the kitchen.
“Have this,” Cyrene passed him a cup of tea and led him outside to watch the sun set in the distance over the Valhalla. They sat on the warm grass and huddled close to each other. “Why are you doing this, Milius? How have you suddenly been put in control of everything?”