Three Acts of Penance [01] Attrition: The First Act of Penance

by S. G. Night

  Nelle whistled. “Well then,” she said to Toren and Alexis. “It’s gonna be a long night, then. Let’s get started. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

  As she began to give them a full account of the story so far, Racath followed Rachel out into the night. He found her a few minutes later, standing on a boulder overlooking the valley, her hair tangling in the wind.

  When he walked up beside her, Racath saw that her eyes were fixed determinately on the valley, her lips pressed together into a firm, white line. She said nothing to him as he stood next to her.

  “I’m sorry about back there,” Racath said eventually.

  Rachel said nothing, but her lips pressed even tighter together.

  “Look,” Racath tried again. “I’m doing the best I can here, okay? This isn’t exactly an ideal situation.”

  She glowered at him from the corner of her eye. “This isn’t a good idea.”

  Racath stopped himself from retorting defensively and, instead, took a long, deep breath through his mouth, and out his nose. “Alright then, talk to me. What’s your say? What objections do you have about letting them stay?”

  It was outwardly obvious that Rachel was struggling to control her tone. “They work for Mrak. I don’t trust people who work for Mrak.”

  “You worked for Mrak,” Racath pointed out as gently as he could. “I worked for Mrak. We both did, because we had no idea how terrible he really was. Do you remember how you felt when Oron told you everything that Mrak had kept secret?”

  Rachel’s eyes quavered. She didn’t look at him.

  “I remember how I felt,” Racath pressed. “I remember feeling angry. I remember feeling betrayed. I remember hating Mrak for what he had done, for what he did to the Scorpions and for all the knowledge he destroyed to keep his sins a secret. I remember hating him so much I thought I would explode.

  “But I also remember feeling grateful. Grateful that someone had shown me everything that had been hidden from me for my whole life. I felt happy, being brought out of the dark.” He gestured back towards the camp. “Those two Genshwin back there? They’re good people. They trust Mrak because no one has told them the awful truth. And they always will trust him unless we show them what he did.”

  Rachel frowned. “I don’t know them.”

  “You barely know me, either,” Racath replied. “I know them — they can be trusted.”

  “And what about the assassination?” Rachel asked. “The more of us that are involved, the more complicated things will get. What are they going to do while we’re taking down the Baron Monger? Stand by and watch?” She shook her head. “No. They aren’t Scorpions. They aren’t trained like us, they don’t know a thing about Demons or magic. They’ll just be dead weight.”

  “You’re right,” Racath conceded. “They’re not Scorpions. Even if we teach them as we go, they won’t be quite the same. But they’ll be useful in other ways, I’m certain.”

  Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “How? What can that big fella do that you or I can’t? And what about the girl? How old is she, seventeen?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “You said she was the Mechanist,” Rachel said. “Is she even combat-trained at all?”

  “Enough to get by. Look, Rachel, think about this. They might not be Scorpions, but Alexis and Toren have skills that none of the four of us really do. I’ve seen Toren fight — he’s a nightmare with that claymore of his. I prefer subtlety over brute-force as much as the next assassin, but the fact remains that it might be good to have someone around who can act as a bruiser.

  “And Alexis will be even more useful. She’s a better rotender than all four of us put together. I watched her draw the design for the Model 4 Stinger on a wall with a piece of charcoal when she was eleven years old. She’s the best engineer we could ask for — if our gear needs repairs, if we need a new tool for a hit, and so on, she’ll be invaluable.”

  Rachel sighed and looked at the ground, biting her lip. “I don’t know…”

  “Trust me on this, Rachel,” Racath begged. “Please.”

  She looked at him with searching eyes. Took a breath. Then nodded. “Fine. I’ll trust you. This once. But you’d better be right about this.”

  ——

  By the time Racath and Rachel returned to the overhang, Nelle had just finished her recitation. Toren and Alexis wore expressions of awe and disbelief. Racath couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he wondered if he had made that same face when Oron had told him everything.

  “Faul,” Alexis whispered. “This…this is…”

  “A lot to soak in?” Racath supplied. “Believe me, I know.”

  “I can’t believe Mrak could do that,” Toren said in a voice that was approaching a choke. “I can’t believe he could just…imprison Elven women so he could make his own personal kill-squad….”

  “Oh, I have no trouble believing that part,” Alexis said. “I told you something was fishy, didn’t I? But did you believe me? No. What I’m still having trouble with is all this stuff about the Demons. What did you say they were called?” she asked Nelle. “Arlim? Armel?”

  “The Arelim.”

  “Right. That they were children of the Jedan God and what not? I wasn’t raised Jedan, so…” she shrugged. “And then the other stuff. The Mnogo gods are really just Demons in disguise?”

  “It is a little more complicated than that,” Notak said. “It is not so much that they are pretending to be gods so that the Humans will worship them, it is more like they created images of themselves, and the Church forces the Humans to worship those images.”

  “But…why? What’s the point?” Toren asked. “Why make yourself a god and then spend all your time in hiding?”

  “The Demons don’t want anyone to know exactly what they are,” Nelle explained. “That they’re connected to Gospodar. That’s why they destroyed the Jedan Church. They built Mnogo as a construct, as part of the effort to eradicate the last of Jedan influence.”

  “Not to mention,” Racath added. “That these Nineteen Demons want to remain faceless, their existence completely unknown to the Humans. What better way to ensure their anonymity than to make the populace worship gods that were fashioned after their own image? Who would believe it if you told them that the Duke of Dírorth was really the Mnogo god of pot-menders?”

  Nelle leaned over to talk in his ear. “I don’t think there is a Mnogo god of pot-menders…”

  “Whatever, you get what I mean.”

  “I guess that makes sense…” Alexis said. She shuffled in her seat. “So…uh…Racath…” she hedged. “You’ve been with this Oron guy for the last few months, training to be a Scorpion? And you’re supposed to be some sort of…savior, or something? And the Jedan God chose you to save the country? And she,” she nodded at Nelle. “Is your divinely-selected tour-guide, appointed to make sure you don’t faul up?”

  “That’s the gist of it!” Nelle said with a nod, then looked at Racath, grinning. “I like her.”

  “And in Dor’mon…” Alexis continued. “We’re going to find one of these Nineteen, and kill him?”

  “That’s the plan,” Rachel grunted.

  Toren held his head between his knees, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “This is too much information for one night...”

  “Been there…” Racath sympathized. “Sleep on it. Trust me, it’ll help. In fact, we should all get to bed.”

  Rachel nodded. “I agree with you on that point.”

  “Good,” Racath said. “Toren, Alexis — just lay your bedrolls out over there.” He doused the fire again, leaving the overhang in darkness once more. “We’ve got of walking to look forward to tomorrow.”

  FORTY-TWO

  Dor’mon

  The six of them were up at sunrise, heading southeast towards Vale. Rachel seemed only slightly less stand-offish than she had been the day before. Racath almost dared to hope he might be getting through to her.

  The morning was full of questions. Toren and Alexi
s would ask for clarification about the monstrous amount of information Nelle had given them the night before, or about Racath’s training and his time in the domus. He would, in turn, ask them about the goings on in Velik Tor. Many of their questions were directed at Notak — the two of them could scarcely hide their fascination with the Elf. He didn’t seem to mind.

  They even started a discussion on magic, which had arisen when Alexis had taken a good look at Racath, squinted, and asked “What’s going on with your eyes?” With the help of Notak, he explained the basics of galdury that Oron had taught him, as well as the concept of High-Mages and corobna dosdom.

  At midmorning, they paused to rest on a mound of rocky boulders, their conversations continuing as they sat.

  Racath unslung the bolter from his shoulder and handed it over to Alexis. “I think you’ll get more use out of this than I will.”

  Alexis took it, a hurt expression forming around the corners of her eyes. “What…? Do you not like it?”

  “It works great,” he assured her. “It’s marvelously designed. But I’m carrying too much weight right now, and I don’t use it as often as I’d like to. I think you’ll be much more useful to us with that thing at range than I will be lugging it around.”

  “Oh,” she said, brightening. “Thank you!” Then she took a closer look at his Shadow. “What have you been doing to your Shadow?” she asked, tugging at a bit of charred fabric at his shoulder.

  “Ahh, right,” Racath said. “It’s from the mage-fire.”

  “Well, that’s no good,” she said. “What good is being a Pyro…thingy, if you burn your clothes every time you light yourself on fire?”

  “Pyromancer,” Racath corrected gently. “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself.”

  “I can fix it for you, if you want,” she offered.

  Racath raised his eyebrows. “Can you do that?”

  “It’s simple rotendry,” Alexis shrugged. “Same kind of stuff I’d use to waterproof something. Just a shield rune bound to a fire rune, plus a bit of energy.”

  Racath didn’t need to ask twice. He stripped off his cloak-coat, boots, and gauntlets, handing them over to Alexis. Humming to herself and seeming quite at home, Alexis sat down on a boulder and pulled some etching tools out of her belt pouches.

  “Come to think of it,” Nelle said from a nearby rock. “Could you hypothetically do the same thing with a force rune? To protect the wearer from any kind of impact or blade?”

  Alexis shook her head as she started carving. “No, I’ve tried it before. It ends up dispersing all force that affects it. Which means you can’t even move it, let alone wear it. It’d be like being stuck inside a statue.”

  “And it wouldn’t protect you from a blade,” Rachel added. “Since I’m a Kinetomancer, I can absorb and negate any physical force that affects me, even gravity or concussion. But blades are a different kind of animal. I can stop a hammer from crushing me, but I can’t stop a blade for piercing my skin. If you understand the difference.”

  Since her conversation with Racath the night before, Rachel seemed to be trying to act more her age and less like a five-year-old, even toward Nelle. But the pieces of her scowl were still faintly visible on her face like faded scars, and her tone was more than somewhat condescending.

  “Fire…fire…” Alexis muttered, thinking. “I can’t remember what the rune for fire is.”

  Racath extended his right hand, showing her the rune branded into his skin. “It’s this. Vatra.”

  Alexis frowned down at the brand. “Well. That’s different.”

  She added the etching into the pieces of equipment and put away her tools. “There! That should do it. No more burning your Shadow.”

  Racath thanked her and put his things back on.

  “We should go,” Notak said from where he stood on a higher rock. Tall as he was, with his arms crossed and his back straight, he reminded Racath of a lighthouse. “Vale is just one more valley over.”

  ——

  They sent Toren into town to get supplies while the rest of them laid low. They couldn’t risk Racath or Nelle being recognized from the night of the fire. Once Toren returned carrying sack-fulls of travel food and other provisions, they were on their way again.

  After leaving the Spikes behind, the six of them traversed the foothills. Eventually, they crossed over the Valcan and Milon Rivers by way of old, abandoned bridges or places where the water was shallow enough to wade through.

  Gradually, the Scorpions grew more familiar with each other during the course of their journey. They did not fully understand one another by then, not by a long shot — there was still plenty of squabbling and bickering and distrust to go around. But things were progressing.

  ——

  They came up over a hill near dusk on the 7th of Abur. Below them, Racath saw the coast: a long, line of grey sand and rocky cliffs stretching out from north to south. And beyond that, the sea — the vast and endless expanse of the Olhar Ocean. Like everything else under the Demons’ sky, it was grey.

  At the water’s edge, perhaps ten miles distant, was a city, encircled by a five-story wall of stone. The wall reached out into the water, encasing several square miles of ocean past the beach. It looked like a six-mile-diameter hoop had been laid out on the coast, half on land, half on water.

  “Have you ever been to Dor’mon before?” Notak asked quietly.

  Racath shook his head.

  “I’ve always wanted to see it!” Alexis exclaimed, barely able to contain her excitement. “I’ve heard about the walls before — they’re a marvel pre-Demonic rotendry!” She inhaled a deep, nostalgic breath through her nose. “My, oh my, would you look at those? Gorgeous.”

  “I’m confused,” Toren said, frowning. “What’s so special about them? They’re just…walls. Aren’t they?”

  Alexis rolled her eyes pretentiously. “Don’t be stupid. You can’t just build a wall that goes out into the ocean! The sea floor gets too deep, plus there’s a whole myriad of other technical concerns. Tidal erosion, salt water damage, sand shifts….”

  “Oh…” said Toren. “So…how do they work, then?”

  “During the Third Age,” Notak explained. “When scientific and arcane study were at their peak, the Commonwealth of Io commissioned the construction of the city of Dor’mon. It was intended to be a primary port for trade, as well as the base for diplomatic missions to the continent of Athair. Calisto, Io’s northern neighbor, was the world’s chief naval power at the time. And it was still a hostile nation at the time. So, it was essential that Dor’mon be fortified against a naval attack.

  “The sea beside the city is fairly shallow; for a few miles out, the water is only about fifty feet deep at the most before it drops off. The walls were built with magic, the foundation running along the perimeter of that shelf of sea-floor—”

  “And rotendrially reinforced against the tides,” Alexis interrupted excitedly. “There are a half-dozen gates that allow ships to move in and out of the city, and almost a hundred iron grates along the bottom of the wall that allow the water to flow in and out. The rotendry on those grates creates a selectively permeable membrane of magic, which allows water to pass through, but not salt.”

  Notak was unperturbed by her interruption. “And thus was created the Dor’mon Bay within the city walls. They introduced freshwater fish to the new environment soon after it was completed. Before the invasion, fishermen could find all kinds of game inside the bay, and deep-sea fishers could sail out through the gates in search of their quarry, respectively. This city became a home for diplomats and international trade.”

  “But, since the Demons came,” Racath said, recalling this particular bit of history from his time with Oron. “The only ships permitted to leave the city are those that they control.”

  “Ah ha…” Toren nodded understandingly. “I get it. I didn’t understand half of what you all just said, but I get it.”

  “There are dozens of small islands in
the Bay,” Notak continued. “Within the protection of the walls. These islands act as the estates for the local nobility — the Human peerage, as well as the lesser Demonic gentry. While the islands themselves have significantly less acreage than an estate of a land-based duchy would, the real property that the nobles of Dor’mon lay claim to be is actually the water. Fishing rights.”

  “And I imagine that Baron Monger calls one of those islands home,” Racath said.

  Notak gave a perfunctory nod. “I would assume so.”

  “Hence why we need to get our hands on Brahn,” Rachel added. “We can’t just walk around the streets and ask people hey, do you happen to know which island the Lord Baron lives on? So we’ll need to learn that from him. That, and the date of the banquet, and whatever mode of entrance he can supply us with.”

  “I have a more immediate concern,” Nelle put in. “How are we going to get through the gate?”

  ——

  The answer to Nelle’s question came in the form of a wagon. A caravan was nearing the gate by the time the six of them reached the city, and Notak was able to project the Shroud out over all six of them for a short period of time. Just long enough for them to slip under the wagons and cling to the undercarriages.

  They made it through the guard post at the gate without any trouble. From there, it was a short trip through the city to the local Manji Tor, where Notak and Rachel had stayed during the weeks prior.

  ——

  “So what was your plan?” Racath asked as the six of them entered the Tor’s main room.

  Rachel frowned at him, pulling off her hood. “Plan?”

  “Yeah, plan,” Racath said again. “You know to take Brahn?”

  She and Notak looked at each other. The Elf shrugged at her. “We were just gonna…you know…take him,” Rachel said. “There wasn’t really a plan.”

  Nelle whispered something to Alexis and Toren. The big Majiski laughed. Alexis stifled a giggle.