Beyond the Hell Cliffs

by Case C. Capehart

  “Thank you, Edna,” Indie said to the sturdy old woman. “You didn’t have to risk so much.”

  “My Enga was murdered by a northern bastard. Ethel and Eadra were both tortured before my eyes,” the Rathgar woman said, eying Raegith as he emerged from the cellar. “You say you’ll kill Greela and then go destroy those in the north? Then I can do this much for my girls; for vengeance.”

  Raegith merely nodded to the woman. She knew he would avenge Enga. She did not need, nor want to hear anything else from him in his northern voice.

  The others climbed up out of the hiding spot and filed out into the night, inside the walls of the Citadel. Other than Indie and Magda in confiscated guard armor, the rest of them wore only dark leathers and they carried discrete weapons. Hitomi was the only Helcat not present, having chosen to stay and help defend Gimlet City. Naoko, Kimura, Indie, Magda, Fenra, Freya and Helkree were all there beside him. If they were any other group of rebels, they would stand little chance against the guards armed with steel weapons and heavy armor. If they were any other group of rebels, they wouldn’t be Helcats.

  “Greela performed just as expected. He sends his entire force to engage Hitomi and Brimgor, leaving his neck exposed and unguarded,” Raegith said, pulling all of their attention back to him. “Helcats, my battle angels from hell… we find ourselves back here in the Citadel, where we began; where your group was born. Only this time we do not return to drop back into the Pit. No, this time we come to claim it and every soul inside.”

  “Broosh!” they yelled in unison.

  “Keep it tight and move quickly. There will still be guards left inside and Greela will surely have kept his best men at the palace with him, so save your energy.”

  “Protect Grass-hair at all costs,” Helkree added. “Keep quiet and let Naoko or Kimura take out any single targets we run up on. You’re up if we get a runner, Fenra. Indie and Magda will be doing any breeching.”

  “Everyone is ready for this?” Raegith asked, taking in all of the nods. “We don’t stop until we reach Greela… then he’s all mine.”

  Raegith led the group of female warriors away from the staging house and into the streets. They did not creep along or try to hide; speed was more important than stealth. They ran along, in formation around Raegith, scanning the alleys and shadows for threats as they moved westward.

  They managed to avoid detection all the way through the merchant district of the Citadel, but as they approached the central area, where the Palace was, they were surprised to find a hasty barricade with watchtowers blocking their path. From their elevated positions, the guards spotted the group before they were close enough for Fenra or Freya to smell them. The curfew made it even easier for them to be spotted and for their part, the guards were smart enough to let the group get within range before sounding the alert.

  Bowmen opened fire on them as soon as they were in range. There were less than a dozen men on the gate, but their bows and javelins kept the small group behind cover. The only protection Greela would have kept behind were his Elite Guard, who were all experienced and cunning enough to return from the war in the north. They were not the same Rathgar that Raegith slaughtered outside of Gimlet City.

  “We don’t have time to waste on this!” Raegith exclaimed, peeping around the corner of the building at the men on the gate. “We need to draw their fire.”

  “We’re ready,” Fenra said.

  Raegith looked over at the two Urufen girls. Freya was as fast as Fenra, but she was young and untested. She hid her fear well, though, looking to her adoptive sister for courage. She gave Raegith an assertive nod, unnaturally quiet during the battle.

  “Good. You’re up, then. Stay light on your feet and if you see an opportunity, take it!”

  Ferna grinned and backed up. She took a deep breath, steadying herself for a moment as if she were meditating. Without warning she unleashed a deafening howl and her body shook. Freya joined her, using her own way of triggering the bestial call they had learned on the Alfhildr.

  They both exploded in fur and became the giant, wolf-like beasts of old. Fenra and Freya were like strikes of lightning in their transformed bodies. They were out around the corner and speeding through the streets, dodging the first volley of arrows and disappearing behind the nearest building.

  As their fire was drawn, Naoko slipped around the corner and snapped off two shots in rapid succession, dropping the shooters in both towers. Three men carrying spears and shields started forward towards the group as the two remaining archers covered them.

  “They’re focused back on us,” Naoko said. “I can’t get a good shot off if they’re just waiting for my head to pop around the side.”

  “Fenra!” Helkree yelled.

  Two bestial forms bolted from the shadows and soared through the air towards the barricade. The archers, focused on pinning Raegith and his group behind the building had only enough time to change direction and loose hasty arrows at the monsters crashing down upon them. Fenra and Freya fell atop the Rathgar and dragged them to the ground, ripping and tearing them with massive, razor-lined jaws.

  The remaining guards barely slowed at the sounds of their comrades being torn apart behind them and their shields easily deflected Naoko’s attempts at bringing them down.

  “Stay here,” Helkree said to Raegith. “I’ll handle this.”

  She pulled the two tomahawks from her belt and stepped around the corner as the three shield-bearers drew near.

  “All three of them?” Magda asked, staring after Helkree as she jogged right at the trio.

  One of the guards switched his grip on his spear and threw it at her with practiced aim. Helkree barely moved her head, slipping to the side of the bladed tip as it sailed past her cheek. Another guard threw his spear and Helkree avoided it with a slight step to the left, not even breaking stride as she did.

  The first one to throw his spear roared with frustration and charged at her, pulling his hand axe as he closed with her. Helkree took two quick steps and then shot to the side of his shield, away from his weapon arm. Dropping the axe in her left hand to the ground, she grabbed the man’s shield and wrenched it forward. Her right hand dropped like a hammer and the blade of her axe cleaved cleanly through the man’s wrist. He was screaming before his shield clattered to the ground, but Helkree’s backswing hooked his esophagus and ripped it out, ending his noise.

  The last spear shot right for her face as the other Rathgar came at her with his axe. Helkree avoided the spear head and dipped under the axe swing. As the guard swiped at the air over her head, she destroyed his knee, dropping him instantly. A second spear thrust skidded along her side, splitting the leather rib protector she wore. She snatched the spear at the wooden shaft with her left and cut it with one swing of her axe. A kick put the guard off balance, stumbling backwards and Helkree bombarded him with strikes from both her axe and the lethal half of the spear that she just stole from him.

  The guard struggled to block and avoid the ambidextrous attacks and Helkree checked his shield with her elbow when he tried to bring it around the front of her body. Then an axe strike with her right clipped the inside of his helmet and sent it flying. The guard dropped the heavy shield and desperately tried to raise his hands to grapple the axe away from her, but she used his grip against him, yanking both of his arms down and jamming the broken spear inside of his shoulder plates and through his collar.

  The guard stumbled backward and dropped to his knees, sucking in air as the blood gushed around his neck. She turned away from the dying man and dropped on top of the guard she had kneecapped earlier. He was trying to crawl back toward the barricade, but his armor made him too heavy. Helkree split his face in two with one chop.

  “Are you even mortal anymore?” Raegith joked strolling up to her, examining the mess she had made of the guards.

  “Whatever,” she replied. “You could have taken this gate by yourself.”

  “No,” he said, staring at his hands. “It drains qu
ickly and I can’t rely on it like I can rely on normal strength. I’m good for bursts, but I’ve yet to master it enough for an extended fight; I’d be worth shit on the field. That’s why I need you and your Helcats.”

  “If this looks difficult, don’t let that bother any of you!” Fenra yelled from where she and Freya cranked the wheel that opened the gate.

  “Indie, this is what I mean by a breech!” Helkree yelled, pointing at the gate.

  Chapter 50

  Greela stood in his war room with his generals, gathering there in armor after hearing the alert outside the palace district. Outside of the room, the remaining Elite Guard that had stayed behind could be heard struggling with whatever force had come for him. He had no warning of the attack and did not know who was on the other side of the door. It could be the citizens. An insurrection was not surprising. Maybe some group of rebels had seen the large contingent of guards leave the Citadel and decided now was the time to strike.

  It could have been the men from the north, come to finish what they had started with him in the most inconvenient period of his rule. It could be Beretta and a band of demi-gods she had discovered with her seven years of freedom.

  The sounds of fighting grew louder and suddenly the door exploded inward as two armored Rathgar females tore through it. One of them was the ugliest woman he had ever seen, with a scarred face and one eye. The other was a behemoth. His generals moved to intercept them. The larger one, carrying a familiar-looking executioner’s axe, leveled General Bolomar with one swing. The ugly one shielded her comrade, taking several blows without so much as a step backward.

  Others poured through the door. A Lokai in all black bolted through the opening and flung both of her arms forward. Small shards of metal, like tiny saw blades, sailed through the air and Greela ducked to avoid them. One of his men was not quick enough and caught two of the wicked stars in his face.

  Stribog rushed her, swinging his spiked mace at her head, but she dropped to the floor and slid between his legs, whipping a thin cord around both of his legs as she did. She came to her feet like water being poured upwards and slipped the other end of the cord around Stribog’s neck. The cord made a cinching sound as she yanked it downward and Stribog gagged as his legs buckled and he curled backwards.

  The remaining generals and guards inside the war room surrounded the warriors and the black clad Lokai stayed crouched in the middle of the room, more flying blades in her hands. Then another figure stepped inside the room, leisurely, as if he were not in any danger at all. Recognition passed over Greela’s face as soon as he saw the stripe of green hair.

  “So it’s you!” he roared, stepping forward. “The Empress dies to save your wretched life and this is how you repay her? By getting your gang of deviants to help you finish what your kindred started?”

  “You’ve had seven years to pull this empire out of the grave, Greela, and you’ve only dragged it further down!” Raegith countered. “You’re weak and unworthy of rule! We’re going back to the old ways of being ruled only by the strong!”

  “And you are strong enough to take my place? You’re a fool with a smooth tongue; you’re no warrior! You’re not even armed! You trick others into fighting for you and call that strength?”

  “This is no trick!” Raegith yelled, strolling forward. “I am the only one powerful enough to lead the Greimere out of this hell and into the fertile north. I am the only one to lead this horde against the cowards who dwell across the Hell Cliffs. I am the Grass-haired Demon come to avenge all who suffered because of your weakness and I, not Greela, will claim this entire world for the Greimere!”

  “You think you have the power to rule the Greimere in my stead, then prove it here and now!” Greela roared, stepping forward through his men. “You and me, boy… a challenge for the throne of Greimere. You best take up an axe quick, though.”

  “I won’t need one to end you,” Raegith said.

  “So be it,” Greela growled, hefting his giant axe.

  The two of them closed on each other in the middle of the room and the others backed away quickly. Greela moved quicker than Raegith expected of a soldier his age, sweeping the heavy axe as if it weighed nothing, right for his head.

  The general was very skilled and though he could have been overconfident against an unarmed opponent, he kept Raegith at a distance with his swings. Raegith on the other hand had not yet engaged an armed opponent and even with the power bestowed upon him, he would still die quickly should any of Greela’s mighty swings connect. He kept just out of reach, ducking the blade and spinning away to the side while Greela adjusted instantly.

  Raegith was barely avoiding the strikes, each one coming a little bit closer to hitting than the last and Greela was not tiring. He kept the pressure on him, pushing him all the way back to the wall. He had driven him into a corner and as Raegith ran out of room, the general whipped his axe around for an overhead swing meant to cleave him in half.

  Raegith glided forward, barely stepping as he uncoiled his arm with a solid straight punch into Greela’s chest. The impact sounded like piercing thunder and Greela buckled backward, swinging his axe into the ground. Raegith was no longer there, having slipped to the side. He kicked out into the man’s hip, sending him staggering sideways.

  Greela recovered, turning to face Raegith. The general started to swing, but Raegith was suddenly way too close. The boy’s hand shot out and grabbed the base of the axe before Greela could swing it. Out of nowhere, blue flames erupted along his forearms.

  Greela did not even see the punch. One moment he was awestruck by the boy’s sudden combustion and the next moment he felt an impact that rattled his teeth and his iron chest protector shattered like porcelain.

  The air was gone from his lungs and he couldn’t keep his feet underneath him. Raegith pushed onward, both of his arms engulfed in azure fire as they pummeled him. He let go of the axe, tried to put his hands up to defend himself, but the power was too much. He could feel his bones breaking and the taste of blood was thick in his mouth.

  Raegith spun on the ball of his foot and slammed Greela with a kick to the midsection that lifted the man off the ground. Greela soared through the air, crashing into the far wall and crumpled to the floor, coughing up blood.

  “I take no glee in this, General, though I should,” Raegith said, shaking the flames off of his arms. “I still remember the way you killed my friends. Zakk was the red-haired girl; the short one with ears like mine was Ebriz… I don’t think I ever told you their names. You didn’t even blink, did you? You saw a threat to your Empress; a threat to your empire and you did exactly what you needed to do, without mercy or hesitation.”

  Raegith dropped down on top of the general and lifted his head. “I took a lesson from that moment, General, and I became more like you. Unfortunately, you have become a threat to this empire and those that I must protect and though this may look like revenge for my friends, I am simply doing exactly what I need to do… without mercy or hesitation.”

  “The bearded Saban with the giant sword…” Greela said. “A general… like me…”

  Raegith looked down at him quizzically. “A Saban? What are you talking about?”

  “During the invasion… a Saban with a bald head… a beard… large sword…” Greela coughed. “…stronger than me… he’s the one to kill… for vengeance…”

  “Vengeance for who?”

  “He’s the one… put Empress on the spike…” Suddenly Greela reached up and grabbed Raegith by the collar, pulling him down face-to face with him. The general was shuddering with hatred, but not for Raegith. “He’s the one… made us watch. He’s the one!”

  As Raegith loomed over the broken general, he understood his suffering and madness. Raegith wasn’t the only one who had lost something when Kalystra had died. Greela had been responsible for keeping her alive and safe and this unknown general had forced him to live through his failure. It was no wonder Greela had fallen into such darkness. Raegith had chang
ed so much from the Empress’s death and he had not even been there for it.

  “Rest now, Greela,” Raegith said, gripping the man’s hand and laying it back on his chest. “It’s not your time just yet. I may still have a use for you after all.”

  Raegtih rose from the bloodied body of Greela and was suddenly aware of how quiet everything was. None moved to charge him or engage in battle with those across from them. All were silent, except for one of the generals, who came forward, weapon lowered.

  “Greela tells me of a Saban… the one who murdered the Empress. That is my enemy; that should be the enemy of everyone in this room. What say you, General?”

  The general looked back to the others, who offered little more than shrugs and confused glances. “Stribog… I am General Stribog, second in command of the Elite Guard and leader of the Citadel Guard. I can point out the man who killed the Empress and I will help you find him. Rathgar follow the strongest leader.”

  Raegith motioned him closer and Helkree and the Helcats stepped forward and closed in on the two. As Stribog came close, Raegith reached out his arm and after a brief hesitation, the general accepted it.

  Raegith turned to address all of the men in the room. “We’re coming together; Rathgar, Lokai, Urufen and Gimlet! We’re going into the north, to those who live in the sun and grass… and we’re going to return the thousand years of death and dependence they’ve given us!”

  “We’re gonna kill those motherfuckers!” Helkree screamed, lifting her axe to the sky. “Broosh!”

  The other Helcats took up the war cry and slowly, one by one, the surviving Rathgar joined them.

  Chapter 52

  Helfrick leaned against the ledge of the balcony looking out over the city and the surrounding districts as the sun rose. The streets were filled with janitors and workmen, preparing for another day of festivities in the weeklong Thromdelion; the tenth one since he sent his first-born son to his doom beyond the Hell Cliffs. His eyes were red and dry and the horrid aftertaste of alcohol clung inside his throat, rising up to remind him of the night before with every unwanted burp.