The Iron Palace

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by Morgan Howell


  “Its towers and outer walls are covered with thick plates of it, my lord. Yer subjects keep it oiled, so ’tis black and shiny.”

  “And you say the place is large?”

  “It has no rival in this world. Not even the emperor in Bremven can boast of so grand a dwelling. Many hundreds of huts this size could fit in its great hall.”

  “It sounds like a fitting abode,” said Shadow. “And you’ve seen this place?”

  “Aye, yer lordship. I was there recently for an audience with the Most Holy One.”

  “Speak of this man.”

  “His name is Gorm. He’s a wise and loyal counselor who’s skilled in the magic arts.”

  “A sorcerer?”

  “Nay, a holy one. He’s head of my order, and his powers come from the grace of god.”

  “You mean the Devourer.”

  “Aye, the mighty one who has guided ye. Ye know its strength.”

  “Yes, I know it, though I called it by another name. When I was little, I named it my shadow.”

  The priest smiled. “And then ye were its namesake for a while. How prophetic.”

  Even when Stregg smiled, Moli could detect no humanity in his hatchet face. Likewise, his oily voice was cold even when his words were courteous. Already, she detested the man and instinctively saw him as her enemy. Moli could tell that he wanted to drive her out. While he did nothing overt, he didn’t include her in his conversation or even acknowledge her presence. Instead, all his attention was on her man, who seemed thoroughly pleased by it.

  Just then, the captain returned with Bog Rat. Moli remembered the tall fensman as Shadow’s companion and friend. That was when the pair first joined the pirate band. After Shadow took over, she saw little of Bog Rat, who had become one of Captain Wuulf’s men. Moli didn’t even know that he had a different name, and she was surprised that he was included in the feast. Unlike his captain, who had regained his composure, he seemed dumbfounded by the turn of events.

  Shadow grinned at the sight of him. “Telk! Didn’t I say that I was destined for great things?”

  “Froan, they say ya’re Lord Bahl now.” Moli noted fear in Telk’s voice.

  “I was always Lord Bahl, only Mam hid the truth from me. But all has been revealed. Now aren’t you pleased you came with me?”

  “Aye,” said Telk without enthusiasm.

  “Henceforth, should we call ye Lord Bahl?” asked Captain Wuulf.

  “Of course,” replied Shadow. “Or ‘my lord’ or ‘your lordship.’ Now, when will the feast be ready?”

  “Soon, my lord. ’Tisn’t palace fare, but at least there’ll be wine.” A knock was heard. “That should be the wine now.”

  “Enter,” said Shadow.

  A soldier opened the door and brought in a small wine cask. He was followed by a second soldier bearing two goblets and some wooden bowls. It was obvious by the soldiers’ uneasy manner that the news of their commander’s true identity had spread. The cask was opened, and the drinking vessels were filled. Naturally, Shadow was served first. Moli noted that the soldier’s hand trembled as he presented the goblet. The man then held out the remaining goblet to her, only to spill half its contents when Shadow commanded him to give it to the priest instead.

  Moli gulped her wine from a wooden bowl that night. No one noticed how much she drank. Shadow and the priest seemed oblivious of all the others. Telk appeared withdrawn, miserable, and perhaps a little mad. When Moli gazed at Captain Wuulf, he seemed to be weighing his change of fortune. He drank sparingly, said little, and closely watched Shadow and the priest. He wants ta see if there’s a place fer him, thought Moli. She could sympathize with his plight. Lord Bahl already had an army. Moli knew little of such things, but she imagined it was full of captains who owned proper armor and had finer backgrounds.

  Moli thought that her prospects were even bleaker than the captain’s. As Lord Bahl, Shadow would have his pick of women. Moli doubted he would choose a whore with missing teeth and a peasant’s sun-darkened complexion and work-calloused hands. Moreover, Moli sensed that her lover was beginning to forsake human feelings altogether. It was just an impression, but her instincts were seldom wrong.

  When the roast mutton, boiled roots, and grain porridge had been consumed and the wine cask was empty, Shadow rose. “Captain,” he said, “tomorrow we will alter course and head for Bahland. Why conquer a realm when one awaits us?”

  “As ye command, my lord.”

  “Have the men ready to march at dawn.”

  “Aye, yer lordship.”

  “Priest Stregg,” said Shadow, “this hut is a lowly place but warmer than sleeping on the ground. Stay here tonight.”

  Stregg bowed. “Ye honor me, my lord. But I don’t wish to intrude upon yer privacy.”

  Shadow smiled. “Privacy means naught in the field, so don’t decline this honor. Besides, my woman’s a pirate wench and used to tupping in front of others.”

  The march began shortly after dawn, and though it headed southwest, in many ways it seemed little different from previous marches. Shadow and Captain Wuulf rode on horse back at the head of a small column of soldiers. To the front and the sides were the men Shadow had inflamed, roving like foraging ants. Ragged, ill armed, and mostly mad, they wrought most of the destruction. Whether the band of soldiers and hapless peasants were Shadow’s men bent on conquest or Lord Bahl’s men heading homeward, they still needed to live off the land. Thus they pillaged everything in their path.

  The canvas sides of Moli’s wagon were raised, and even though the vehicle brought up the rear, she noted changes in the march. For one, the soldiers seemed grimmer. Moli suspected that was because their prospects had diminished. None of them could expect to grow rich on booty; that would go to Lord Bahl’s coffers. Also, it was apparent that Shadow had withdrawn his order that she be shielded from gruesome sights. His men’s victims were left in view; whereas before, the soldiers had whisked them away before the wagon passed. Finally, the wagon was no longer her sanctuary. To her dismay, Shadow had offered Stregg a place in it. She was relieved that the priest had declined to ride, saying he preferred to march with the men. Moli occasionally spotted him talking to the soldiers. She had no idea what he was saying, but the conversations didn’t appear casual.

  Early in the afternoon, Moli looked ahead and saw that the road would soon pass between wooded hills. The sight of them set her heart pounding, for all day she had been looking for an opportunity to escape. Moli felt it was her only hope. She no longer believed that she had a future with Shadow, although she doubted that he would release her. While Moli thought a part of him still cared for her, that part was rapidly fading. Shadow might need her, but Lord Bahl didn’t. Every tale she’d ever heard served up this warning: Lord Bahl was never stayed by sentiment. When she became useless to him, he’d destroy her.

  Moli crawled under the coverlet to dress in her most practical clothes. She would have preferred peasant garb, but all she had was finery. In the end, she chose a sky-blue cloak of lightweight wool, and an equally thin wool shift. For footwear, she had to settle for dainty slippers. She remained under the coverlet after she dressed, peeking out occasionally to gauge the wagon’s progress. At last, it entered the trees.

  As Moli had hoped, the lane was narrow and hemmed by scrub and undergrowth. The men afoot were ahead, and the wagons dropped behind as their drivers struggled to guide their teams through the difficult way. Since the horses had her driver’s full attention, Moli was able to gather a body-shaped mound of clothes and pillows beneath the coverlet. That done, she crawled to the wagon’s rear, dropped over its end, and dove into the surrounding bushes. Afterward, she anxiously listened for some sign that her departure had been noted. If someone spotted her, she planned to say she was tending to a female problem—that usually silenced men, even soldiers.

  The ploy proved unnecessary. The sounds of wagon wheels, hoofbeats, and marching feet gradually faded into silence. Moli was alone. She was also free for the
first time since the pirates took her. As a dishonored woman, she could never return home, even if she knew the way. Therefore, Moli was well aware of the risk she was taking. She was lost in a desolate land. She had no food or water and was inadequately dressed. Nevertheless, she hoped to find a refuge. With luck, she might even become a wife, for the world was full of needy men.

  FORTY-ONE

  TOWARD THE middle of the afternoon, Lord Bahl’s forces encountered an obstacle. Upon rounding a curve, the men discovered that a stream had cut a gully across the road. Captain Wuulf rode up to it for a closer look. Gazing down the lane, he could see that the trees thinned in the distance and the way ahead was clear, but that didn’t solve his immediate problem. He paused to study the terrain awhile, then rode back to Lord Bahl. “Yer lordship,” he said, “the gully is no barrier to men or horses, but we can’t drive a wagon across its gap.” Wuulf watched his commander’s face redden, and for the first time, it frightened him.

  “So we must turn around and waste a day!”

  “If we empty the wagons, the men could carry them down and up the gully. That will take time, but less than a detour.”

  “Then do it.”

  Wuulf called his sergeants over and told them his plan. Afterward, they immediately set their squads to work. First, the wagons were driven as close as possible to the obstacle. Then the horses were unhitched and led through the woods to cross at a place where the gully’s sides sloped gently. Meanwhile, the supply wagons were emptied and their contents carried to the far side of the gap. All this went smoothly until it was time to empty Moli’s wagon. Captain Wuulf sensed something was amiss when he saw the wagon driver walking up with the reluctant pace and fearful expression of one bearing bad news.

  “Captain,” said the frightened man. “Captain.”

  “What is it, soldier? Speak up.”

  “She’s gone, sir! Lord Sha—Lord Bahl’s lady! I thought she was sleeping, but …”

  “Have ye looked for her? She might be strolling about.”

  “I did, sir, and I couldn’t find her.”

  Captain Wuulf spotted a sergeant and called him over. “I want yer squad to make a quick search for our lordship’s lady. Before I tell Lord Bahl she’s missing, I want to be certain she is.”

  The mere mention of Lord Bahl spurred the sergeant and his men into action. As Wuulf watched them hurry off, he reflected on the power of that name. He wondered if its fearsome reputation was the reason that Shadow seemed transformed, but he suspected a more arcane power was at work. Something to do with the priest and his god. Even thinking about it made him uneasy. Shadow’s become less a man and more a monster. If his woman’s fled, I don’t blame her.

  A short while later, the sergeant reported back. “She’s not here, sir. I think she ran off, for she piled clothing under her blanket to fool her driver.”

  “Thank ye, Sergeant. Resume moving the wagons.”

  Wuulf rode off to speak to Lord Bahl, who had remained mounted to better watch the soldiers work. The captain had a tight feeling in his gut, which became even stronger when he noted that the priest was with Bahl. Wuulf reined his horse to a stop, then bowed from the saddle. “My lord, I bring ill tidings. Yer lady has disappeared.”

  “What! How?”

  “I believe she’s taken leave.”

  “Bring me her driver,” said Lord Bahl. “I wish to question him.”

  Wuulf soon returned with the young soldier. When the pair arrived, they found Lord Bahl on foot. The captain quickly dismounted so as not to tower over his superior, who was smiling coldly as he approached the soldier. “I’m told you have some news for me.”

  All the color left the soldier’s face. “She sleeps a lot, sir, I mean, yer lordship. I thought that’s what she was doing. Sleeping.”

  “And?”

  “So when it was time to unload the wagon, I went to wake her, and when I shook her covers … well, there was nothing under them. Only clothes and stuff. I looked for her. I really did. Hard, too. But she was gone.”

  Captain Wuulf expected Lord Bahl to question the driver further, but he merely gazed into the man’s eyes. The soldier’s features and body became rigid, and remained that way until Bahl broke eye contact and smiled. “My woman has disappeared, but that’s her doing, not yours. You weren’t an accomplice.”

  The soldier looked relieved until Bahl’s dagger pierced his belly. It happened so quickly that even Wuulf didn’t see the weapon being drawn. “Nevertheless,” said Bahl, his voice seemingly calm, “you were careless, and those who serve me are held to a high standard.” Bahl’s expression matched his voice, as though he were giving the man a mild rebuke. “You didn’t meet that standard.” He twisted his blade before withdrawing it. Then he pointed to a nearby soldier. “You! Come here!” The man rushed over. By then, the driver was doubled over, clutching his bloody gut. Bahl turned to the newcomer. “Set this man by the roadside and let no one tend him while he dies. Fail in this, you’ll suffer as he does. Now go.”

  Bahl turned to the captain. “I want her back.”

  Wuulf felt that he might soon share the driver’s fate, and strangely, the prospect of death heightened his courage. He bowed low, then spoke. “I’ll get her if ye command. But first, my lord, consider this: Some lasses liken to wildflowers. They’re comely in a rough setting but soon wither when plucked from their roots. Moli won’t thrive in yer iron house. ’Twill kill her. She knew that, and so she left. Though I may fetch her, ye won’t have her—not for long. Recall yer tenderness toward Moli, and let her go so she might live.”

  Wuulf gazed at Lord Bahl, half expecting to feel his blade. Instead, he saw tears welling in his commander’s eyes. The hardness was gone from them, and when his lordship spoke, his voice had thawed. “I’d never harm her.” He paused a moment, and his face grew sad. “Continue moving the wagons, Captain. I’ll let her go her way.”

  As Captain Wuulf mounted and rode off, Stregg lifted his eyes from the dying soldier to gaze at Lord Bahl’s face. He was alarmed to see tears there. As evidence of sentiment, they betrayed a weakness that must be stemmed. He pondered a moment on which tactic to use. Then he spoke. “I think your captain is perceptive. The wench wasn’t suited for palace life. Ye acted wisely.”

  Lord Bahl sighed heavily. “I guess so.”

  “Yet I fear yer men will see weakness instead of wisdom,” said the priest. “Although ye were stern with the man, they’ll think ye let a wench flout ye.”

  “It can’t be helped.”

  “It might be better to grant her leave before everyone. Then her freedom would arise from yer generosity, not her disobedience.” Stregg paused a moment, as if considering his idea. “But of course, ye’d have to fetch her to do that.”

  “It would serve her ill to drag her back.”

  “More likely ’twould help her. I suspect she lacks provisions. Besides, ye could say proper farewells.”

  “You’re right,” said Lord Bahl. “I’ll have the captain find her.”

  “No need to do that, yer lordship. Using him will delay the march. I’ll speak with yer friend Telk. He can be trusted with the task. And I’ll ask another to aid him.”

  “Thank you, Stregg. You’ve lightened my heart.”

  The priest hurried off. Lord Bahl mounted his horse, and watched as his men struggled to lift the first of the wagons over the far edge of the gully.

  There was still enough daylight left to resume the march when the wagons were moved and their teams hitched up. Captain Wuulf was making his final checks when one of his sergeants approached him. “Sir, I’ve two men who haven’t returned. Should I post a man to wait fer them?”

  “Haven’t returned? Where did they go?”

  “On some business fer his lordship. The priest sent them.”

  “And who were the men?”

  “Telk and Chopper.”

  “Don’t post a man, Sergeant. I’ll look into this.” Upon saying that, Wuulf rode off to find Stregg. When he di
d, he reined his horse just short of trampling the man, and then glared down at him. “Before I tell Lord Bahl the march is delayed, I’d best know the reason why!”

  Stregg looked up with an innocent expression. “Delayed?”

  “Because ye sent two men somewhere. Why?”

  “I didn’t send them anywhere. ’Twas Lord Bahl. He changed his mind about fetching the wench.”

  “And ye asked Chopper to do it? The man’s a rabid dog.”

  The priest maintained his innocent expression. “And how was I to know that?”

  “Because ye’ve two eyes and mayhap a bit of brain. When did they leave?”

  “A while ago.”

  Wuulf spurred his horse down the road to find the two men. He considered Chopper a lunatic, but Telk was observant and accustomed to the wild, which potentially made him a good tracker. The men would be seeking Moli, and he was seeking them. Thus it seemed his best chance to find the men was to look for Moli. Since her wagon was at the rear of the march, her trail should be undisturbed. He rode slowly down the dusty road, gazing at its surface and the vegetation that flanked it. Toward the border of the woods he found something. It wasn’t Moli’s trail, but that of her pursuers. Since they had no reason for stealth, it was easy to follow. Wuulf dismounted and led his horse along a path marked by trampled undergrowth, broken twigs and branches, and the deep footprints left by hurrying men. He had traveled only a short way before he heard someone coming.

  Soon a figure appeared among the trees. Wuulf recognized the man from his scarred nose and manic gaze. “Chopper! What are ye about?”

  “The master’s business, Cap. She took it.”

  As Chopper came nearer, Wuulf noticed a change in him. The man’s madness had blossomed. His face twitched, drool bathed his chin, and his eyes were bright and agitated. It made the captain wonder what Stregg had said or done to him. “What did she take?”

  “Somethin’ the master wants. Somethin’ he needs back.”

  “What are ye babbling about?”

  Chopper reached into a pocket and pulled out a lump of bloody flesh. “Our master’s heart. Hid it in her chest, she did. But Ah chopped and chopped and chopped it out.” Chopper grinned broadly, but the smile didn’t reach his troubled eyes.

 

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