Other than a few prayers to various gods, the men were silent. They were waiting, doing their best not to be intimidated by the horrors outside scratching, smashing, screeching.
Sonja raced to the mesh balcony of the upper deck, gazing out into the street. She could barely stand the heat of the fire, and had to squint to see through the smoke, but she could see what she needed to: the fog slowly rolling down the cobbled road. The shroud-filled cloud of death plumed towards barred doors, bashing, but failing, to gain entrance to the abandoned residences.
Before the fog had completely filled Nordrachosten Alley, the shroud began to retreat, as if aware there was nothing to feast on within the alley. Perhaps it had somehow grown aware of the trap the slayers had set.
“NOW!” Sonja screamed.
The slayers, on both levels, began peddling. Slowly, the large blades—and legs of the slayers—began to move. At first the flames barely flickered from the effort, but after about ten seconds or so, the flames roared out into the alley. It cut through, burning off the fog, successfully detaching it from the main body. The shroud screeched and clicked as the scent of charred flesh lingered in the air.
Once catching a whiff of the burning shroud, Ansgren added his commentary, “Ansgren deduces, charred nemesistic fog-dwellers reek of blighted, ashen cephalopods.”
Sonja laughed—as did the professor—then cringed upon noticing none of the other slayers following along. It appeared she was getting better at understanding Ansgrenese. Whether the laugh erupted from context, or the fact she understood, Sonja was unsure. “Yes Ansgren, the bastards do smell like burnt squid.”
Kaarm shifted his weight, steering the bladed contraption towards the shroud outside of the alley. The fog drifted away as scorched shroud fell to the ground in the form of ashen corpses.
“Don’t leave a gap,” Sonja said. “We should focus on the ones we have captured. Don’t let them escape.”
Wilbart was watching on from the other side of the steering mechanism. He placed a hand on Kaarm’s shoulder and said, “Don’t burn them all. Their skins can be of much use to the Bristrunstium.”
“How do we kill them then?” Kaarm asked.
“Let them suffocate,” Wilbart said. “They are unable to breathe without their fog. Burn the edges of the trapped fog, but do not tear through it.”
Things were looking good; a horde of the horrors were already dead and many more were trapped from the main body of fog. The upper crew were working fine—even with Ansgren as part of the team—so Sonja raced down the stairs to see how the lower group were functioning.
Zeilgen was leading his group better than she could have imagined. He was steering the fire’s direction with Hechond and Rahlman watching over the peddling slayers.
“Any problems?” Sonja questioned out loud.
“Everything is under control, Captain,” Hechond said.
Rahlman stroked his moustache. “As under control as being trapped in a box and surrounded by shroud can be.”
Lauf huffed a laugh as he peddled. “Did you just crack a joke, Rahlman?” he asked.
“I guess I did! This is a fortunate moon, Ralumina guides our fate.” Rahlman laughed and the slayers around him followed suit.
Sonja smiled; it was good to hear the men laugh. For everything going on, and the knowledge they would sleep not a wink this moon, an escape from the grim reality—even for a moment—would help them soldier on.
More laughter began to rise through the background noise of crackling fire and screeching shroud. It was not from the slayers below, they had all returned to their task. Sonja moved up the stairs to look at the upper team. No one was laughing, but that sound grew louder. It was harsh laughter, fuelled with aggression and dark intent… it was coming from outside.
“Whatever you do, don’t stop,” Sonja called out to the upper team. She ran down the stairs.
Zeilgen turned his head and caught her eye. “What’s the matter, Captain?” he asked. His eyes narrowed as the approaching laughter became more apparent. “Those men? How is it possible?”
Sonja swallowed hard. “One of them, Crispin, controls a power unlike any I’ve seen. It’s as though he can summon fire at will.”
“I know, I saw Com—” Zeilgen held back his tongue. Good, knowledge of Commander Maver’s death wouldn’t do anything positive for the other slayers. “Combustion magic, like an Aesterus worshipper, right?
“More like a thousand Aesterus worshippers rolled up in one,” Sonja said. “He is probably more powerful than this Hacknebel.”
Zeilgen frowned. “Is that… possible?”
“A champion of Aesterus!” Rahlman added as he peddled.
“They are champions of nothing!” Sonja said through gritted teeth. “You saw what they did to our people. You, Rahlman, of all people should sense their blasphemy.”
Rahlman hung his head in shame. “Yes, Captain.”
The laughter was getting louder, closer. “What should we do?” Zeilgen asked.
“Keep your team focused on the shroud, for now.” Sonja ignored the laughter outside. Well, she tried, the fact it was now accompanied by the screams of burning shroud made ignorance difficult. “If the situation changes, I’ll try—”
“Knock, knock,” Caede called from outside. Two loud thuds on the stone door followed his voice. “Any chance you could offer my boys and I shelter? There’s a number of bloodthirsty horrors out here, and my friends have grown weary completing a certain job. You know, a job that Holtur’s famous slayers should be engaged in?” Laughter, from quite a number of men, echoed after the voice.
Sonja took in a deep breath and held it.
“Oh, come on, don’t make me break down this fine door,” Caede said. “You have until, let’s say, the count of ten.”
“Leave, Caede, we don’t have your Eternity Grail.”
“Ten…”
The sound of shrouds catching alight sounded from near the voice.
“Nine…”
“Captain, maybe we should let him in?” Lambert suggested as he peddled.
“Eight…”
Sonja glanced to Zeilgen, he nodded, then began moving over to her. Swapping positions with Hechond.
“Seven…”
“Ready yourself,” Sonja whispered to Zeilgen.
“Six…”
“If he doesn’t attack, we don’t either.”
“Five…”
“If he does, we show him a slayers wrath.”
“Four…”
Sonja sighed. “Although, I think he’d win in a fight.”
“Three…”
“Ready,” Zeilgen said.
“Two…”
Sonja and Zeilgen heaved the door open.
“One!” Caede stood smugly before them, his arms lazily stretched towards the slayers with palms up, like he was greeting an old friend. His eyes locked onto Sonja’s. “Ah, Feisty! It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
At Caede’s side was Crispin, although his attention was busily set on the shroud surrounding the twenty or so other men with them. His arms whipped around as though controlling a swarm of flaming insects that zipped around the group. The flying embers tore through shroud with ease, burning back the fog before it could close in on them.
“Nice little trick.” Despite the overwhelming desire to split Crispin with her Claymore, Sonja couldn’t help but compliment the man. He merely grunted in response.
“Trick?” Caede repeated. “Nowhere near as good as conjuring up your army of horrors.” He nodded. “I am disgusted, yet impressed.” His lips parted offering a toothy grin.
“What do you want?” Sonja asked.
“My brothers are scattered and broken, what’s left of them anyway,” he said, shaking his head. “We concede, withdraw your horrors and we shall depart.”
“Concede?” Sonja raised a brow. “Is this some game to you?”
“Not at all,” Caede twisted his lips into a mocking frown. “We only seek the Etern
ity Grail. I believed that your town’s refusal to help us required punishment. How your little town would react to said punishment was beyond my wildest imagination.”
“You must accept the consequence of your actions,” Sonja said through gritted teeth. These men had killed her commander due to their self-righteousness, and she was terrified as to what they’d turn little Olivia into. She’d be happy to see them all die rather than allow their tyranny to reign.
“Of course.” Caede bowed his head slightly. “Look, we can use the last of our energy to fight each other. Hell, it’d be fun, but we’d probably all kill each other. What’s the sense in that? Call off your horrors, and we’ll agree to a truce.” He offered a hand out to shake.
Sonja grunted. “After what you said you’d do to Holtur’s women? You want me to shake that hand of yours?”
“Oh don’t be so melodramatic,” Caede said, pulling away smugly. “All is fair in love and war.” He winked.
“We can’t call off the shroud,” Sonja said, holding back her urge to attack the man. “They aren’t ours to control. You might think your brothers special, Caede, but you are just one of many monstrosities that want to devour our town.”
Caede’s eyes narrowed. “Well then, perhaps you could offer us shelter until these horrors pass?”
Sonja looked over her shoulder back into the room. The slayers on the lower floor were still working well, but they had gone dead quiet. Other than Zeilgen, they wouldn’t be able to hear the exchange between Sonja and Caede. The slayers would be mentally preparing for a number of outcomes, their aggressors joining them wouldn’t be one of them.
She then looked out over the men with Caede. There were a lot of them. “No,” Sonja said. “There’s not enough room for you and your men.”
Caede sighed. Motes from the ember swarm raced between Sonja and Caede as they burnt back the approaching fog. They were at least a metre away as they passed, but the intense heat pulsed over the little skin Sonja had uncovered, any closer and they would have probably burnt her. A high pitched shriek trailed the flames, confirming they must have pierced through another shroud on their spiralling route.
“Well, I guess that means a fight to the death,” Caede said with a pleasant grin. “Are you ready?”
Sonja reached over her shoulder to unsheathe her blade.
“No!” Zeilgen interrupted, grabbing Sonja’s arm as he scanned over the men outside. “We can get through this peacefully.”
At first, Sonja was infuriated with the insubordination, but after a deep breath, she realised it was the better decision. This one was definitely leadership material. “Peaceful…”
“Is that so?” Caede tilted his head. “Well then, I’m glad my men will survive the moons.” He sighed. “Though I must confess a part of me was looking forward to a rumble!”
“It would have been nice to knock that smile off your face.” Sonja nodded. “But my slayers are worth more to me than personal satisfaction. Your men can stay in here, but as soon as the shroud are gone, you, and your men, leave Holtur immediately.”
Caede’s grin grew even larger and toothier, as though inviting Sonja’s clenched fist to call off the truce. “Of course, we will leave you and your little horrors to live happily ever after.” He turned away from her and looked to his men. They appeared a gruff lot, but didn’t quite share Caede’s confidence or Crispin’s power. “You heard the lovely lady! We’ll remain here, with her men, until the horrors clear off.” He stepped towards Crispin, allowing the other men to enter the building first.
“Zeilgen, inform the lower team what is happening,” Sonja said. “It could be a blessing, we’ll use these ‘brothers’ as fill-ins if our men get too tired.”
Zeilgen nodded. “Yes, Captain.” He then raced ahead of the entering men and hastily informed his slayers.
Caede and Crispin were the last to enter. Crispin was still focusing on his blazing swarm while Caede helped Sonja seal up the door. Once it was shut, a thunderous boom and blast of heat came from the outside. After that, Crispin’s focus was upon Sonja.
“So…” Crispin said softly, stretching the vowel.
“You two, upstairs,” Sonja said authoritatively to the two leaders, but loud enough to be heard by everyone within the Hacknebel. “The rest of your men will be under the command of Zeilgen until this is over.” She moved towards the stairs, then turned back to Caede, staring at him through narrowed eyes.
“I think they heard you,” Caede said, rolling his eyes. “I’m not a fucking parrot.”
“You will take your orders from Zeilgen,” Crispin commanded. The Brothers of Eternity all nodded.
“Huh, you cave too easily sometimes, Crispin,” Caede said sarcastically.
Crispin nodded to Sonja. “It was required, given the circumstances.”
“Up, now.” Sonja raced up the stairs. The two leaders followed.
Ansgren and Kaarm—who turned back while steering the flame—welcomed the three to the top level with raised brows and pursed lips. For all their differences, they reacted quite similar to each other.
“Do digress,” Ansgren said, “the carbon emission is hallucinogenic? Or Ansgren’s existence has expired?”
“They have surrendered to us,” Sonja said. “No harm is to come to them. They, along with all their men, will leave Holtur, forever, once the shroud has passed.”
“Shit, Captain!” Rak almost fell off his cycle mount when he saw their two enemies. “You remember what they did?”
“Yes…” Sonja frowned. “I had a choice, give them refuge or fight.”
“Should have killed them!” Rak said. He kept cycling though; despite his desires, he wouldn’t disobey Sonja.
“Quit your bellyaching,” Caede said. “You might have been able to stop us. Might. Still, I’d rather keep as many of my men alive.” He looked at Sonja with admiration. “A trait I seem to share with your captain.”
“I don’t like this, Captain,” Kaarm added.
“This doesn’t feel right,” Ellard chimed in.
“Can we trust them?” Bevan asked.
“Yes,” Sonja said. “We have their word. They will be gone shortly after the shroud depart, right Caede?”
Caede nodded. “Once those horrors are gone, we too shall take our leave. You have my word.”
“And mine. Thank you for taking in my brothers,” Crispin said in a cold tone, devoid of emotion.
“Just keep cycling,” Sonja said to her slayers. “We’ve got plenty of extra men now. If you grow tired, be sure and let me know. There is no reason to over do yourselves. Think of these brothers as backup against the shroud.”
The slayers grunted their confirmation. Running the Hacknebel was their task, they wouldn’t accept outside help—especially from the Brothers of Eternity—their pride wouldn’t allow them too.
Long and tense moons awaited them. Sonja was unsure of how many of the slayers knew of their commander’s death, or the fact his murderer was now among them. Her throat grew tight as she watched Crispin watching her; Sonja wanted nothing more than to avenge her commander, and she could tell Crispin sensed it. She hated the fact that taking action against him would most likely condemn the rest of her men to a similar fate. It was too late now, she had let him in. She would honour their truce.
Sonja sighed deeply, then whispered to the shroud, “Just fuck off already.”
Chapter 16: Twice Fooled
The rain had ceased, and the shroud had lost interest in Nordrachosten Alley. Initially they attacked the housing of the Hacknebel with great fervor; they screeched while clawing at the stone building, trying to consume the humans within. The only openings of the thick wall constantly spewed forth incinerating plumes of fire—which felled the foul horrors instantly—keeping the shroud well at bay. Once the creatures had come to terms with the fact their scrawny, clawed frames were unable to shred through the building, they quickly gave up. The shroud knew it was a waste of their energy.
The fog from L
achtod Bog didn’t leave Holtur though. There was an eerie and still quietness about the air. This quiet was often disturbed by desperate cries for help—cries that seemed to echo further than normal—and always ended with a shrieking wet noise of a torso being pulled apart in too many directions. These morbid noises were louder than ever, and far more frequent, than any of the slayers were used to. Even the Brothers of Eternity, Caede and Crispin included, shuddered with discomfort from the shrilling sounds of death.
“Captain,” Bevan called out, “can we take a break from cycling now?”
“Don’t you dare!” Wilbart called out before Sonja could respond.
“Sorry!” Bevan cowered, then began to pump his legs faster.
“While we aren’t sure what the Lachtod fog does with its dead, we do know it can reabsorb them,” Wilbart said, then cleared his throat. “These corpses are now property of the Bristrunstium, we will not let the fog take them back!”
“You heard the professor.” Sonja held back a chuckle. “Those are his dead horrors.”
“The Bristrunstium’s,” Wilbart corrected.
Sonja nodded, suddenly realising that Caede and Crispin were intently listening to every word Wilbart spoke. “If you need a break Junior, Ansgren or I can take over for you?”
“If Ansgren is veracious, Junior is conceivably overcome with exhaustion?” Ansgren said, his tone rising confirming it was a question.
Bevan’s face grew red and his legs pumped even harder. “I’m fine,” he said, “just thought it might be finally over is all.”
Sonja placed a hand on Bevan’s shoulder. “Listen, your ears will let you know when it is all over.”
Bevan shuddered, then nodded. “I was trying to block all that out.”
“I think we all are,” Sonja said, “but we can’t forget what’s out there. The shroud is still a threat and may return at any moment. Don’t over do yourself either, if you need to rest, speak up.”
Bevan grunted. “I’m fine.”
A smile formed on Sonja’s lips. The kid would require some moulding before he’d be a reputable slayer, but Bevan’s determination would be a powerful trait; as long as he could survive. The slayers continued to cycle at an even pace, allowing the Hacknebel’s flames to continue pulsing out into the streets. If the fog was to return, it was going to burn.
The Holtur Curse (The Holtur Trilogy Book 2) Page 19