Of Iron and Devils

by B. H. Young

  "You're awake," she said drearily.

  The Elf glanced back at her bare bottom mocking the world and then stretched a grin or frown to him, he couldn't tell. Lucinda rolled to her back and pulled her trousers up to her waist then lay for a moment staring to the pitiful roof.

  "I had feared you would not wake at all," she said.

  Godzton was more confused. He knew what he had done to her, and was certain that he did, yet she did not seem angry at all. He was sure he was awake, but squeezed at his wrist nonetheless.

  Lucinda saw her daggers and sword in their sheaths on the old chair as she sat up to the edge of the bed. "Are we leaving?" She ran her hands through her hair, fluffing it.

  He wanted to scream at her to stop her torment, to stop her mockery, but couldn't. When he found his voice amid the confusion, he replied, "You are," he said.

  Her face twisted up and she winced. "What? What do you mean?"

  He looked to her, the white of his eyes strapped in a stained glass of red solder. "You are free. I am sorry for any trouble or pain I may have caused you. You can take the horse, go where ever you like and I will not bother you anymore."

  She looked to him very puzzled and loosened her posture. "But you need me. You need me to confirm the Blackphisk."

  Godzton rolled his eyes along the floor trying to avoid looking into those blue stars and getting lost in their shimmers. "I'll take my chances on my own and that my words will be enough."

  "I don't understand? I took care of you, stuck by you, waiting for you to wake from your sickened state."

  "You did. You showed much kindness to me, but there is no excuse for what I done to you, for how I treated you. No amends that can be made or apology that can be said enough."

  "What?" Her cheeks rose and she snapped her back straight. "You need not apologize." Lucinda rolled her hands over the old fabric as she appraised it. "Though I must admit I would have preferred silk sheets."

  "Dammit Elf why do you act so calm? You threaten to slit my throat, you wake me in the middle of the night for a fight, become a different person after I strike you and now you seem to not care that I forced myself on you," he said. The stories of her were plenty, but none painted her as such a complex riddle of madness.

  "I admit it took me back a bit at first." She shook her head. "It was the fever, that's all."

  Lucinda's words tried to give him reason and forgiveness, but he would not allow it. "That's no excuse." His voice rumbled and his gut twisted slow and began to pull at him once more, so he took a deep breath and held it.

  "It's not an excuse you stupid bastard, it's an explanation to try and quell your self-pity that your honor was somehow tarnished." Her cheeks smeared with a flush and her eyes narrowed above a snarl. "Perhaps it's not the act of force that bothers you. Perhaps it's the guilt that it was me... an Elf... that you fucked Lucinda Mathayus, the wicked performer of such horrific stories, slain in the sack by an Iron."

  "Don't be ridiculous--"

  "Do you not find my appearance pleasing?" she said and donned wide eyes.

  "Of course, I do, I'm not fucking blind."

  "Then quit acting like a baby who was pulled from its mother's tit. It's no different than a drunken night of regret."

  "Are you completely fucking daft? Please, you must go," he said, rising to meet her.

  "I have nowhere to go you bastard."

  He wanted to yell, to scream into her face, but her eyes would not allow that fury. "You must--"

  "What's the matter? Afraid you'll want another go at it." She pointed her finger at him as if stabbing him. "I saved you, pulled your heavy ass into this godforsaken shit hole, fed, and took care of you."

  "Why would you? Why would you not be riled with rage at my actions against you? Are you completely mad?"

  Her face moped something pitiful to his words and she slapped him, twice. "Don't say that, don't ever say that. I'm not daft and I'm not mad."

  Godzton couldn't help but feel a smidgen of sympathy to the innocent look his slander brought to her face. He was not even angry that she had hit him. "Then what is it?"

  Lucinda looked away for a moment in a pout and then back to him. "There is no one left for me in this world and as much as I deny it to myself, there is nowhere left for me to run either. I do not have any regrets and neither should you. I will help you because I agreed to. Because if I do not then I'm as good as dead."

  The same Lucinda Mathayus that occupied so many stories of misdeeds now stood giving caring words and gestures. None of it put him at ease with himself for his actions, but she seemed very sincere and determined.

  "No." Godzton stepped back. "I do not know what twisted world I've woken in, but you must go. I should have never pulled you into this."

  Lucinda stomped over to the chair, pulled a dagger than jerked his hand up and placed it in it. Her eyes were prettier when she was mad.

  "What the hell are you doing?" Godzton tried to give the dagger back to her, but she pushed it away.

  "No, you are an Iron who enforces the law, but you have broken the law and justice must served." She stepped back, crossing her arms. "So go on then, kill yourself, and bring justice."

  He handed the dagger back to her once more. "This is not a game, Lucinda--"

  She swept his hand away. "I'm not playing a game. Go on then."

  She was right, justice must be served, but he was not about to kill himself nor cut his parts. "Just go dammit." He threw the dagger to the floor.

  "Listen you stupid bastard, you do not get to decide if what you did to me was right or wrong. It was done to me... to me. And I say it was the sickness from that vile shit you've shoved in your body for years under the guise of some ancient oath for a world that no longer exist. Now you took me, gave me an out, and now think to throw me away because of regret. Oh I think not."

  The Elf was stubborn and determined as all hell. Lucinda Mathayus stood like a hateful governess giving him lessons and he could not find any damn words. All he could do was stand like a simpleton under her blazing eyes of strictness.

  She looked him up and down, ran her hand on his chest, and gripped his collar between her fingers. "I will be going with you and if you do not want that then you will just have to kill me." She glanced up at him. "Do with me what you must when this is all over, but in the meantime, I will be at your side. That is how you make an amends."

  Godzton had not seen it before, but there it was behind the sincere sapphires. A softer side surrounded by a wall of lunacy thick in defense. Beautiful as the Roltharian was, she was crazy. But not with the kind of madness they bind you in leather harnesses and throw you to the shadows for, but a more conflicted kind. Her life experiences were confined and limited; she would not make it on her own. Burdens come in all shapes and sizes and one must accept them with a fools hope that one day they would come not to be burdens anymore. Maybe it was not a good idea to take her, but he did and now she was his responsibility, regardless of disappointment brought on by uncontrollable actions.

  The soaring watchtowers of Kastingly overlooked the immense activity of traffic at its foundation. The fields surrounding the walled city stood occupied with marching patrols flying Valhur banners high into the air. Forges clogged the sky with clouds of smoke as blacksmiths hammered away at armor and weaponry. Large tents infested the grounds as soldiers stood for fitting with plate while others occupied benches with slumped heads.

  This was the waking breath of a war, Godzton thought, as he threaded through the crowded road. The fat nose man rode up beside him with two others at his back. Graced in blue armor with white chain enlace adorned with the insignia of House Valhur, his unkempt beard encompassed most of his scarred and shriveled face. A thick golden chain rasped his chest, holding the puffed black fur coat to his back. The man's pudgy frame looked even a burden for the horse.

  "What brings you this way Iron?" he asked.

  "And who are you, friend?" Godzton asked in return.

  "Capt
ain Sir Morris Chessfield. So I ask again, what brings you this way?"

  "I seek Duncan Mckellan of House Valhur."

  Duncan was a constable for the Valhur and a friend. Godzton had intended to go through him to get to Lord Edwin to secure Lucinda in his keep. The activity around here now cautioned him though and he would not share his true intentions with men readying for war. He was thankful in that moment Lucinda had put the old rancid cloak on before they departed without him even having to ask her to do so. It hung low over her face and she kept her head tilted down and away from the eyes of a sniffing captain.

  "I'm afraid you'll be waiting awhile then Iron. He's headed down to Lanadors Crossing, got a rightful mess down there. Lord Dorat's caravan was hit. They found him, his wife, and his men all dead. Brutal scene I'm told."

  The pit feeling in Godzton's stomach came fast to the captain's news, but he tried not to show it. He had failed. It was all for nothing, his friends were dead and Sylo had succeeded, the Eldafienden had succeeded.

  "If that'll be all Iron, we have a war to fight." The captain waved his men on.

  "A war?" Godzton said.

  "House Mathayus attacked us unprovoked a few days ago. Lord Edwin has raised his bannerkyn and sent a battalion to Maiden Fields."

  Godzton felt Lucinda tighten her arms to him and the fear in her touch was apparent. He gave a swift nod to the captain who reciprocated in kind and then galloped off.

  He turned his head back to her. "Know anything about this?"

  "No," she whispered.

  "I need to stop in Kastingly to send word to Overseer Gelfradus and Hacan," he said. He was nervous to stop anywhere around here. All it would take is the wrong eyes to fall on her and he knew they'd both be killed.

  "That's not a very good idea," she said, squeezing tighter at his waist.

  "No, it's not, but it must be done. Stay on the horse and keep your head low."

  After he had sent word, brief and short, of Lisbet's treason, making no mention of the Blackphisk, simply that he would reveal all to them when he returned; they rode further into the open lands, making sure there was nothing, but endless horizon in all directions before he'd stop again. They had taken rest at a deadened oak tree off the road just passed the old Madora Stronghold.

  Lucinda had gone off down the hill to collect water from the stream leaving him to his thoughts. Coming to terms with his failure to stop Sylo from finishing his task was a hard truth to accept, but he would not fail to serve justice onto Sylo for his crimes. He would not leave this kingdom, and justice for the Order would come shortly after, Godzton vowed unto himself as he swept through the pages of the Blackphisk to find confirmation to a recollection of when he first gazed its pages. Lucinda speaking of the dead Iron in Niset jogged a memory, foolish he did not realize it until now, he thought.

  Sitting amid the lifeless roots of the tree, he turned the pages one after another until he found it. In a dozen pages of number's and recordings, halfway down one of them, he saw it, a record of two payments of three thousand gold coins paid to a Captain Ryan of the Skagendell. Both payments rested beside Niset. It would cost too much for them to seek passage back to Northanos from the Southern parts of Terongard. The war at the eastern shores of Vyhoven would halt them and sailing around the western shores would take months on end. Sylo planned to leave Terongard the very way he came, courtesy of payment by Lord Willem Mathayus.

  In his pondering Godzton had not noticed them until they dismounted their horses. Irons Freth Garlow and Marcus Krettin, good and honorable men he knew from around the way, but not personally.

  "We caught a gander at you from Kastingly passing by. Thought someone else was riding with you?" Freth asked, looking around with a squint.

  Godzton shut the ledger and started to rise and they pulled their weapons. "What are you doing?" he asked in disbelief. He had not seen any other Irons for weeks and now two were drawing down on him as he rose to meet them.

  "Slowly, Godzton," Marcus said pointing his broadsword in an aggressive manner.

  "You draw your weapons on me?"

  "You know how the Iron deals with traitors." Freth smeared a grin across his face. "Overseer Gelfradus and Hacan and those under them have already been dealt with--"

  "What the hell are you on about? Have you gone mad?" Godzton stood with caution.

  If they aimed to kill him, he would not be able to draw his swords fast enough in defense. The best he could hope was to pull his knife and take one of them down with him.

  "Their little ring has been broken up and they have all gone to the gallows. The proof provided by Overseer Lisbet was more than enough to convict them and you." Marcus's skinny face twisted with angst and he stepped a little closer.

  "I don't know what is going on but I assure you I have no part in it," Godzton said.

  Freth shook his head. "You and your men were on the list of their inner dealings and you are all that is left of their treacherous stain. A raven came the other day issuing the order for you and your lot."

  "Listen to me," Godzton said, "the one you saw riding with me is Lucinda Mathayus. She has stolen this from Lord Willem." He held the ledger up. "This is an account and confirmation of the Eldafienden and its members in Terongard. Overseer Lisbet's name is in here, she has betrayed us all." He held the book out to them. "Freth, Marcus you know me. I've given my life and loyalty to the Iron High Guard--"

  "I don't know you from shit," Freth said, "all I know is you have disgraced yourself and the Iron and your life will pay that debt friend." He sniveled and began to step towards him.

  Freth's twisted face lessened its curl to a pain as Lucinda pushed her dagger through the back of his throat.

  Godzton had not even seen her approach. A swift backhand from Marcus knocked her to the ground and he raised hand to strike her with a fatal blow of his sword. Godzton speared him to the ground and they scuffled, rolling over one another in a fierce lockup. Godzton felt the land give steeply and the sky began to spin, but he held tight to Marcus. A pounding rocked his ribs as they collided with a stump halfway down the hill that split them, sending Marcus rolling one way and him the other. Dirt swept over his face with each tumble until the abrupt stop at the streams edge came splashing with a fury.

  He had stopped rolling, but the world had not stopped spinning. He pushed himself from the water and held his head to straighten his eyes. Marcus stood a ways down the stream, already to his feet and struggling to load his crossbow. A sharp pain slithered up Godzton's side as he stood and pulled a sword absent breath. Marcus shot a glare of panic to him. With both hands Godzton gripped the sword, took a deep breath, reared the blade back over his head, took a sharp step forward, and with all his weight threw it as Marcus aimed his crossbow.

  Marcus arched his back out and grabbed the blade as it penetrated him, slamming him to his knees where he just held it as it stuck out of his chest. Godzton glimpsed a brief effort for him to pull it out, but then he fell to his back. Godzton pulled his other sword and made his way down to where his Iron brother lay. The water glided over Marcus, floating his arms to the side as if lifeless as he spit blood and murmured. His life was over; he just hadn't accepted it yet. A wound like that can't be treated.

  Why couldn't the stupid bastard listen, Godzton thought. It was something he was all too familiar with when carrying out an execute on sight order. Three rusted Irons he had slain in his time and never did he stop to listen to their reason. He thought about those three Irons in that moment, wondering if they had offered any evidence to clear their selves if he would have listened. An Overseer's ruling is just below a God's and to question either can bring swift punishment they are told.

  Godzton reached over, wrapped his fingers on the grip of the sword, and then pulled it from Marcus who grunted in pain and then swiped the blade across his throat, sending his Iron brother on his way. Lucinda stood at the top of the hill holding her head, watching, he saw. In that moment, gazing into her eyes he wondered if he'd
had been able to calm the situation, but knew the truth to that, the voices would not allow a lie to justify chastising the Elf's lack of hesitation nor the reluctant fact that she had saved him again.

  Godzton took spot beside her at the top glancing over the bodies. "These were good men," he said.

  "Good men?" Lucinda said. "They tried to kill you."

  "They were just following orders."

  "Orders... do any of you lot actually think for yourselves?"

  "You wouldn't understand." He brushed by her and picked up the Blackphisk.

  "Then why don't you try explaining it me," she demanded as she walked up beside him fast and stopped him.

  "Overseer Lisbet has issued an order on me to be executed by any Irons that find me. The ravens have been sent far and wide and the shadows to hide in are shrinking." It was hard for him to say, much less believe, but it was true. "As far as the Iron High Guard is concerned, I'm a rusted Iron now."

  "And why would she do that?"

  "Something has transpired at the Iron compound and she has ridden it of the other Overseers." He made his way to his horse. "We must go, now."

  Lucinda trotted up beside him. "So your own have betrayed you? So there is no one left to see the Blackphisk and serve justice as you call it," she said.

  He turned to her. "Wrong, there is me and I will hold to my oath," he said and climbed into the saddle.

  Godzton extended his arm from his saddle and Lucinda pulled herself up behind him. "What now then," she said.

  "We head to Niset to finish this," he said turning the horse back the way the way they came.

  "You're heading back to Kastingly?" The squeal in her attentiveness caused his ear to ring.

  "I need new attire."

  Chapter 44.

  Kreek Forest sprawled up the side of Odentin Mountain digging its roots deep within like an infection. The mountain was a wall of nature sitting in both Morthet and Fleslinburg, stretching on for miles into the murky depths of the horizon. Before they trekked up the side, Sylo tossed Marlo a small pouch of gold and told him to head to Mayrift, a riverside town a few clicks away, and procure the skills of a lesser kind.