by Dave Oliver
She heard the bedroom door open and Ragna sleepily hobbled past, her crutch making a loud thump with each step. Her dingy red hair was tied back in a sloppy pony tail, and she was coated with a sheen of sweat. She’d either just finished her morning workout, or she’d been working on that big pile of boxes they still had from the move.
“Big day, eh?” Ragna said as she wandered over to the icebox.
Casselle grunted in agreement.
“You aren’t still nervous, are you?”
She grunted again.
“You drink anything? That’ll settle your nerves.”
“I did,” Casselle admitted. “Hasn’t helped yet.”
“Welp,” Ragna said as she grabbed a bottle of kelmia liquor and turned toward the kitchen table, “that just means you need more.” As she walked past the table, she smacked the bottle down, then continued to the seat across from her. She set her crutch against the wall and flopped her one whole leg up on the table.
Casselle glanced at her. Ragna’s underclothes were riding up, and her muscular midsection was showing.
“I don’t know how you manage to keep yourself in that kind of shape without being able to run.”
Ragna took a pull from the bottle and shrugged. “I’m still young yet. There’s plenty of exercises I can do, even missing a leg. Unless you want me to turn into a pudgy housewife.”
Casselle shook her head but was still too sick with nerves to smile. “No prosthetic today?”
Ragna tilted her head to the side and grimaced a bit. “Maybe later. Nub’s feeling pretty raw from it, so I’m giving it a break. I’m used to the crutch anyway, so it ain’t so bad.”
Casselle admired her strength and wished she could borrow some of it. She grabbed the bottle off the table and sniffed the rim, the aroma of fermented kelmia stinging her nostrils. She didn’t want to get too tipsy before her first day as an officer, but it was probably better than standing up in front of them and puking from nerves.
Ragna nodded at Casselle. “Drink up. How much time you got?”
“I need to be out there in twenty minutes,” she said.
Ragna gave her signature perverted grin. “Pushing it, but that’s enough time for a quickie. That’ll calm your nerves.”
Casselle rolled her eyes. “Seriously. Always at the worst times.” She took a small sip and grimaced at the foul taste. “I have no idea what I’m going to do out there.”
“What is it your captain said the other night? ‘You only need the courage to try something new once. Then it ain’t new anymore,’ right? Or something like that.”
“Yeah, he’s got a bunch of old sayings like that. I guess he’s right though. Sitting here stewing isn’t going to help any.”
Ragna brought her leg down and raised her arms. “What’s keeping you here then?”
“I just keep thinking…” Casselle shook her head. “You know, what if they just see me as—”
“Hey.” Ragna slid her chair closer and put a hand on Casselle’s arm. “You are not your father. Ethics, choices, morality… That shit ain’t genetic. You’re your own woman out there. And if they look at you and have their expectations set low on you, fuck them. That just makes it easier to prove ‘em wrong.”
Casselle took a deep breath. “I know you’re right. I earned officership despite my father’s legacy. I shouldn’t get scared off now.”
“Exactly.” Ragna smacked her on the shoulder and slid away again. “Now drink up and get out there. I’ll finish getting us settled in here.”
“Do you like it here?”
“Stop stalling! But yeah, I dig it. You know me—I could’ve lived in our old shit hole forever—but the space and safety of an officer’s quarters is pretty great.”
“I’m glad.” Casselle threw back a huge gulp of the liquor and stood with a deep breath. The pungent liquid burned all the way down and stung her nostrils. “All right, then. I’ll see you tonight to let you know how horrible it was.” She scooped her helmet off the table and headed for the door.
“Hey,” Ragna called as Casselle was leaving, “any of those greens give you a hard time, just kick their ass. Nobody disrespects a leader that kicks the shit out of some rookie the first day.”
Casselle smiled at that, remembering their own training class. It’d been a decade since they were two clueless teenagers looking for action in the Ward, but those were some of her fondest memories. She walked outside.
She crossed the courtyard of the Ward, glancing left at the courthouse. She’d frequently see members of the patronage entering and exiting that building, but not today it seemed. They were likely in session talking about the uneasy populace. It must’ve been difficult running the kingdom when they hadn’t heard from King Talis and the entire army for a year now. They’d probably make some arbitrary decisions that would trickle down to her at some point, and then she’d have to enforce some clueless patron’s idea of peacekeeping.
Off near the armory she saw Kore Belleas, commander of the Ward, speaking with the quartermaster—his group of elites in tow as always. He had to be the most dour man in all the Commonwealth. He didn’t have the reputation of being unfair or an asshole, but he always wore such a stern face and had no humor or mirth to him. He was, in many ways, the opposite of her father. She sighed lightly and continued to the training area.
There were a dozen other lieutenants leading prework meetings with their units standing at perfect attention. The soldiers under her command were lined up lazily. Some were outright lying down and napping. With the king and the Ildian army declared missing since last summer, order and discipline had been in short supply among Wardens. Captain Rust was having enough trouble keeping the city in line, let alone holding the hands of his new recruits and promoted staff. It was clear that the Ward was doing an ineffective job at keeping peace and stability not only in Ildia, but also among their own ranks. There had been stories of officers taking bribes and even shaking down local businesses. It was bad enough there was the syndicate out there doing that kind of work. If Wardens were getting in on it too… It was best not to think about what that might lead to.
Casselle let out a deep, shuddering breath. It was her first day as acting lieutenant and she was terrified. She was a better soldier and fighter than anyone here, so why did she feel so afraid of leading them? She had been born a patron girl, so she was relatively petite and fair looking. That wasn’t the typical mold for an officer in the Ward. But she was dedicated to doing the job better than any muscle-bound meathead. With some potent reserves of self-confidence, she straightened her braid over her shoulder and strode up in front of her contingent of soldiers.
“Line up!” She looked around and saw some soldiers slowly turn to face her while others whispered and giggled to each other, but there was no semblance of their moving into a cohesive unit. She walked over to a soldier in the front row who was letting out an impressively large yawn. “I said…” She kicked him square in the genitals. “Line up!” Laughter rippled through the unit as the accosted man fell to the dirt clutching his tender member. The group casually moved into formation. Not quite as attentive and respectful as she’d hoped, but it was a start.
“That’s better,” Casselle said. “I’m your new lieutenant. I’ve worked with most of you before, and I even trained with a few of you. You should know that I’m no longer the rookie you once knew. I expect discipline and order. Any less than that, and I’ll remove you from the Ward with no second chances. Do I make myself clear?”
The group mostly answered in the affirmative, though not very enthusiastically.
A soldier with remarkably filthy armor raised his hand. Casselle nodded to him.
“Aren’t you the former commander’s daughter? Rieger Cressian’s girl?”
She took a deep breath. She hadn’t expected to be confronted with that quite so quickly, but she was ready. “I want to be perfectly up-front with all of you. Yes, I am Rieger Cressian’s daughter. I earned my title here despite the
mess he made. If I can serve in some way to rectify what he’s done, I’ll consider my time here in the Ward a success.” She squeezed her hands to keep the blood flowing. “If anyone has any concerns about my family, my deeds, or my capacity to lead, come talk to me after.” There was a long pause. “Any other questions before we get started?”
The group’s swarthy sergeant, Dint, leaned casually on his sheathed longsword. He was ungroomed and unwashed, and his armor was so ill kept it looked like it’d come from a pawn shop. He called back to her, “You sure you’re strong enough for this job? You look like you’d have trouble fighting a strong wind.” With that, Dint let loose a loud fart. A few of Dint’s buddies howled with laughter.
Casselle dropped her helmet to the dirt and unsheathed her rapier. She flung her braid over her shoulder, and with it trailing behind her, she marched straight for Dint. He turned his sword upright, falling back into a fighting position. Casselle raised her blade as she neared him and started to strike. Dint moved to block it, but Casselle feinted. She grabbed Dint’s wrist, twisted it back, and bashed the hilt of her rapier into his temple. The arrogant sack of flesh crumpled on the ground.
She scanned over the faces staring at her as she sheathed her sword. “Someone get him to a medic and make sure I didn’t make him any dumber than he already was. When he wakes, tell him he’s no longer my sergeant. That spot is up for grabs for whoever can prove themselves competent and capable.” She turned away and walked back to her place in front of the unit. She noticed a man and a woman scrambling to pick up Dint and move him to the medical building.
Casselle cleared her throat. “For today, I want you to continue with your regularly scheduled patrols. There’s been word of some syndicate dealings in the northern districts.” She ignored the soldiers gaping at her with wide eyes for mentioning the syndicate, and she pulled a piece of crumpled paper out of her breastplate and scanned it, squinting at the writing. “Is there an Elress here?”
A well-built woman stepped forward from the group and gave a quick salute before standing at attention. “Sir?”
Casselle was impressed at how respectful she was. It was a pleasant change from Dint. “You’ve worked organized crime before?”
“Yes, sir. I worked undercover with smugglers in Paradisio. We ended up uncovering a sordid organization in Safe Harbor as well.”
“Perfect,” Casselle said as she folded the paper up and put it back into her breastplate. “I want you with me on this. We have a few leads I’d like to check on. Link up with me after the meeting.”
Elress bowed and went back to her place in formation. Casselle looked up to see the man and woman who had taken Dint to the medic now returning.
“You two,” she called. “Your names?”
“Fellus, sir,” the man said with a bow.
“Tink, sir,” the woman said in turn.
“You two are on courthouse duty,” Casselle said with a smile. “Thank you for your help today.”
The two looked at one another, their eyes widening and matching smiles growing on their faces. Courthouse duty was easily the most enjoyable assignment a member of the Ward could get. It was basically just sitting around the barracks drinking and making sure nobody came to start trouble with the patronage, which nobody ever did. Everyone in the unit looked at one another with the mutual understanding that it’d be worth getting on this new lieutenant’s good side.
“That’s it for this morning. If there are any concerns or questions, I’ll be at or around the Pinturk building today. I expect great things from this unit.” She knelt down to pick up her helmet. “Don’t disappoint. Dismissed!”
Everyone scattered to get to work. Some returned to the barracks to get equipment, others went straight to their details. Casselle stood and watched while everyone set out to do their duties in case anyone had questions. None did.
Her body began to shake so hard she felt like she might fall apart, but she kept her muscles tense and tried to hold herself together. After a minute of deep breaths, the blood rushed back to her frigid hands and feet. They always froze up when she got nervous or afraid. But she’d made it through the first morning.
“I’m all set, sir,” Elress said as she approached. She’d replaced her full Warden armor with a set of simple leathers. Her weapon still hung at her side, and Casselle could see a few hidden blades tucked away in her outfit as well.
“That’s quite a bit less protection, isn’t it?”
Elress smiled. “It’s also a lot less attention. If we’re investigating the syndicate, it’s probably best not to announce that we’re Wardens before we get close enough to talk to anyone.”
“That’s a good point. I should go change.” She turned to head to her quarters but stopped. “Elress, I’ve never done work like this before. I’m more of a fighter. I may need to lean on you while I get the hang of things.”
Elress stood at attention and puffed out her chest. “Happy to serve, sir.”
Casselle pursed her lips. That was a bit formal for her tastes. Nonetheless, it was refreshing to have what appeared to be such a capable partner. She hadn’t had one since Ragna’s injury took her from the Ward.
With a nod, she headed to her quarters to change while Elress remained standing at attention.
CHAPTER FIVE
They’d been traveling a few days when they came to a small clearing. It was a welcome sight after nonstop trees. They also might be able to actually spread out a camp for a change too. Fierd pulled the cart to a stop and hopped off the driver’s bench. Dusk had just begun to settle, and the snow-laden forest was wrapped in a gentle orange glow.
“I’m going to start up a fire and get some food cooking. Want to set up the bedrolls?”
“I can do that.” Karedess jumped down from the bench. She pulled her poorly-sewn-together fur jerkin tight and moved to pet the horses before heading to the back of the cart.
Fierd smiled at how her outfit made her look like a miniature version of himself. He didn’t have much experience making clothes, but he hadn’t done too bad a job. He reached into the back of the cart and rummaged for the supplies he needed.
“Hey, Fierd. What’s that?” Karedess asked as she gazed off into the distance.
He looked around from the back of the cart and squinted toward where she was pointing.
Large wooden beams protruded high into the sky, still smoldering as smoke rose above the treetops. A whole town of buildings sat silent, some with their walls and roofs burned away.
“Get down,” Fierd whispered, and he motioned for Karedess to get low. He crept over to her. “I want you to hide in the cart.”
She shook her head in sudden panic. “Not in there. Not again.”
“Okay, then under it or something. Just get out of sight.”
She looked around quickly before nodding, then bolted off.
He moved closer to the town with his hatchets out and ready. A few of the outlying structures were all but collapsed, but he didn’t see any sign of people alive or dead. The air was thick with the smell of charred, wet wood and burnt meat. His senses heightened as adrenaline flooded his body.
He stepped past a small blacksmith’s workshop. The forge still glowed with heat, a half-finished hilt lying on the stone rim. The roof was half town down, and metalwork in varying degrees of completion was strewn about the floor. Most of the work was low quality, but there might be some things worth scavenging. Now wasn’t the time though.
He moved on toward the town center. If anyone was still fighting, or if there were any survivors, they’d likely have mustered at one of the larger central buildings together. He came around the corner of a small residence and stopped in his tracks.
There were piles of corpses strewn all over the square—both villagers and Rasend alike. Some were bloody with blade cuts, others ripped apart with bite marks and large chunks of flesh missing. Some had their limbs, necks, or skulls broken, while others were charred and shriveled in the snow. He couldn’t hear or
see any movement. He stood still a moment. His eyes darted around looking for an ambush or attack. When none came, he gently walked through the lifeless crowd.
He walked up to the ale hall, keeping a careful eye on the bodies lying around him. He’d seen Rasend play dead before, though admittedly not often. He walked up to the remaining half of the front door to the hall and slowly creaked it open. Inside he saw the rest of the village—children and the elderly who could not fight—all burned alive, holding one another. They must’ve tried using fire to kill or deter the Rasend, but it clearly got out of their control. The air in here was thick with death and smoke. It surprised his lungs, and he coughed and wheezed.
He backed out of the hall and headed around to the other side of the building where they most likely kept their stables. He found them in similar condition to the rest of the buildings in the village. He tried sliding the large oak door open, and it fell off the hinges completely. All the horses were dead with bite and scratch marks covering their bodies. A few children had hid together in the corner as well, though they didn’t fare any better. He eased back out of the structure.
There were more buildings he could search and more places folk could be hiding, but it didn’t seem likely anyone had survived here. If they had, they’d probably fled. Besides, this bloodshed was all recent. If he stayed here much longer, chances were high Rasend would find him. Best to get out of here.
He stopped by the blacksmith’s hut to see if anything looked useful. He fingered a couple blades and turned an axe over a few times. Most items were farm implements, and even the blades were for domestic uses. Nothing here would serve as a decent enough weapon, especially compared to what he already had. He headed back to the clearing where he’d left Karedess. When he arrived, she was nowhere to be seen. He looked around desperately. “Blast it, girl,” he muttered.