by Dylan Doose
“I serve the king. I serve the Duke of Dentin and I serve the laws of Brynth,” said the knight, who took a step forward now. Chayse looked to Theron; he gave her the slightest shift in his eyes, indicating for her to remain still.
“You serve the church, too? The God of Light?” Theron asked.
“I do.” The old knight huffed.
“Well, after you are done capturing or killing Ken, go ahead and do the same to the boy that arrived in my company. He’s a sorcerer, a bloody good one at that… scorched your Upir.” He had no qualm revealing the lad’s secret, for he had every intention of keeping him safe. Besides, when Aldous set the rats alight from the battlements, all would know his secret.
“You are a keeper of fugitives? That in itself is a crime. A crime punishable by death.”
“I don’t give a damn about your laws. I don’t give a damn about the past of Kendrick the Cold, and I don’t give a damn about the Church of the Luminescent. The way I see it, right now, is you have two choices.” Theron walked away from the pit he had been digging and stood face to face with Sir Crowle. Chayse closed in a few feet behind him.
“And what choices would those be?” said the knight, not backing down an inch.
“The first choice is you keep on the path you are now marching. You attempt to notify your knights and your men-at-arms, and together you try to do in my friends.” Theron paused. “If you try that, I will kill you where you stand, and I will throw you in the pit I just dug. Chayse and I will run to find Aldous and Ken. We will flee Dentin and we will kill any of your lads that try to stop us. When we are gone and the rats come, they will swarm over your keep’s low walls and they will feast on your women and children.” Crowle tried to speak, but Theron held up a hand and took another step so that he stood looking down his nose at the knight.
“That is the first choice, which is the evil choice, the selfish choice. Your second choice is to keep your mouth shut about whom you remember my companion to be, and together we preserve Dentin and we stop the swarm of rats from carrying out any more destruction of our country. When it is done, you can go ahead and keep serving the king and the church, and I will go ahead and continue to protect the weak and the forsaken.”
They stood face to face for a while. Chayse moved to stand behind Crowle, at the ready, for if he made a move, then they would kill him and have him buried in that pit before anyone was the wiser .
“I yield,” Elizure Crowle finally said. “But not because you threaten my life. And not because you threaten to leave Dentin to its fate. I yield because you protect the weak and forsaken and so while you might kill me to silence me, you would not forsake the women and children behind the walls. For that reason I grant you this reprieve. For now it is better that we work together. When it is done, though, I will bring your lads to justice,” he added spitefully.
“I was told that wisdom came with age.” Theron smiled. “Listening to you speak, it seems that all you have in your dotage is a greater ignorance. Do as you will.”
“I’ll find somewhere else to dig,” Crowle spat, and walked away.
“Remember, if you but murmur a word of this to your men, you and only you will be responsible for Dentin’s fate,” Theron said to the knight’s back. “We need both Ken and Aldous in order to win this fight.” He did not respond, but Theron knew that Crowle was aware of his sincerity.
“Do you think Crowle is a legitimate threat?” Chayse asked Theron when the knight was out of earshot.
“No. He won’t be during the assault, at least. If he survives then perhaps he will be, but that is the least of our worries.” Theron went back into the pit and took up his spade.
“Will you actually kill the king’s men if they try to take Ken and Aldous?” Chayse asked as she, too, began to dig once more.
“I did in Norburg, and I will do it again. I will not ask you to do the same, but if Sir Crowle rouses any of the survivors against my friends, I will put my sword to those that we now work to save.”
“That does not seem like something Darcy Weaver would condone,” said Chayse.
“Perhaps these friendships have changed me. Perhaps I care now more for the words of the younger Weaver.” Theron drove the spade deep into the earth. “For he is present. He is within my current reality, and I do not doubt that the future of Aldous Weaver is a future that must be ensured. When he decided to come with us to Dentin, I knew that our fates, our destinies, will be forged by the unified choices of all four of us. ”
The spade came down; dirt went over his shoulder. The hole went deeper.
“Together we may stray from goodness, but perhaps that is needed to destroy the greater evils.” Theron took a deep breath and exhaled. He stayed in the pit under the hot sun, and together he and Chayse dug. He thought of Darcy Weaver; he thought of goodness. They drove the spikes into the ground, and he thought of the Emerald Witch and he thought of evil. They covered the pit with branches and dirt, and he thought of doing whatever it took to destroy that evil, then he thought of doing one step more to protect the ones he loved.
They worked for fourteen hours. Aldous marveled at Ken’s resolve. He worked twice as hard as any of the villagers or men-at-arms. He did not break to eat, and he rarely took a sip from his canteen. He drove long, thick logs into the ground and he sharpened them fierce, and so the two rows got done around the whole perimeter of the keep faster than they had expected. Instead of calling it a day, Ken ordered everyone, himself included, to get to work digging the trench around the perimeter of the hill on which Dentin Keep stood.
Some of the men mumbled at this. Ken reminded them that the more work they put in today, the less friends and family they would need to watch die when the fighting got started. That got them digging.
When the day was finally done and the sun was well down, Aldous, Ken, Chayse, and Theron all sat together in a cozy chamber that had been assigned to Theron. They wanted to be alone, and so they had brought their bowls from the great hall to sit on the floor before the fire. No one commented when they left. The great hall was overcrowded and those who left made way for those yet to be fed.
They ate a weak stew with weaker ale, for the provisions had been watered down in the expectation of the possibility of a long siege. It was certainly not the food and drink of Wardbrook, but the company was the same, and for Aldous that was all that mattered.
“Ken, this is your doing,” said Theron. “You, and you alone, are to thank for the fortification of this keep. It is your doing that saw me out under the hot sun all day laboring like a common peasant.”
“Thank you, Theron,” Ken said, ignoring the second part of Theron’s statement.
“It is true—if we survive this, much of the thanks will be owed to you,” said Chayse.
“Not if , but when we survive this,” Aldous said in a stern tone. A tone that he tried for the first time. They all smiled at him and clinked their mugs of ale.
Theron’s expression changed and grew somber.
“The old knight, Sir Crowle. He knows who you are, Ken. He told me so as we dug the far ditches.”
“Does he, now?” Ken seemed unconcerned.
“He was none too happy,” Chayse added.
“What does he plan to do about me?”
“He says he will arrest you after the siege, carry out the king’s justice.” Theron chuckled.
“To which you said?”
“I told him to carry out the church’s retribution at the same time, that he should arrest Aldous also, for he is a wizard.”
Aldous spewed ale all over the floor.
“They will do as they must, and we will do as we must,” Theron said. “There was no harm in the telling, for all will know soon enough when you are lighting rats on fire from the battlements.” Theron laughed, Ken laughed, Chayse laughed, and, although he was a bit uneasy at first, Aldous finally laughed. Fuck the king, and fuck the church , he thought. I am here risking my life for the citizens of a country that has done nothing b
ut wrong to me. If at the end they still see me as a monster, so be it.
“I had asked Ken earlier whether or not I should conceal my magic in the fight. I suppose now I have my answer. ”
“You do,” said Theron. “The people of Dentin will be glad for your magic when this is over. They will be glad for Kendrick the Cold as well. I made it obvious before that I wished for the two of you to conceal your identities.” Theron paused. “In truth, this was out of fear for my own name as well as your safety. I no longer wish for that. You are who you are. Together we will save Dentin and we will seek a king’s pardon for you both.”
“If the king denies us a pardon?” asked Ken.
“Likely he will. And then the road becomes our home, and we carry on the hunt. We abandon Wardbrook.” Theron looked at Ken as he spoke, and then to Aldous. “Together.”
“What of the people at Wardbrook you are responsible for?” Chayse asked.
“When their identities are revealed, you and I will become fugitives as well, simply by association. Our land will be taken from us by the king. My people are in his hands now, no matter what.”
Aldous felt sad that Theron was forced to make this choice, while at the same time he was glad—no, more than glad—that Theron had chosen him.
“Chayse?” Aldous turned to her, for her desires must be considered as well.
“I agree with Theron,” she said after a painfully long and somber silence. “I have only fought by your sides twice, and recently, but it was not the fighting that makes me stand by my brother in this. It is the differences we overcame living together at Wardbrook. We will ride together, realm to realm, and we will follow our destined path. We will banish evil and destroy monsters in every nook and cranny that we find them. Theron is a hunter. I am a hunter. It is more than what we do. It is who we are.” Chayse downed the rest of her ale. “The men that hunted with me in Azria were good at their business, but none of them were Theron Ward.” Chayse looked to her brother. “I hate to admit it, but none of them were Kendrick the fucking Cold.” She reached to Ken and they clanked their mugs.
“Lady Chayse,” Ken said, bowing his head.
Then she finally looked to Aldous with something in her eyes that made his heart erupt. “And they would all marvel if they set eyes upon the great wizard, the glorious Aldous Weaver.” He held out his mug for a clink, but she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Fiery passion ignited in his loins. He let out a sigh and they all laughed, and Ken ruffled his hair.
Aldous had little sleep between thoughts of the coming fight and the recollection of Chayse’s warm lips on his cheek. He thought of the battle to come. He thought of the blood and the killing. He thought of Theron or Ken or Chayse dying like his mother had died, like his father had died, and he fought away the images, for he was afraid that he might accidently set the bed on fire.
So he forced his mind to happy thoughts, ridiculous thoughts, thoughts that were years and miles and likely realities away, where he was a great wizard and he and Chayse were married, and Ken and Theron were the uncles to his children.
When sleep finally took him, though, his dreams did not remain as he would have wished. He was running through the ravine near Dentin; he was leaping through bushes and pouncing over fallen trees. He saw them in the valley. The vermin were hungry and they were at the door. The witch was dressed in her finest emerald silk. She smiled at Aldous; she was ready for the dinner party.
The sun wasn’t up yet when Aldous heard the hammering on the door to Theron’s room a few doors down.
“Wake up, Lord Wardbrook! Riders have been spotted! Wake up! They hold a white flag.”
Ken, Theron, Aldous, Chayse, and the duke and his knights stood on the wall above the gate, the defenses’ highest point. Ken had not slept well, not well at all. Ever since Norburg he had become a dreamer. Every dream was the same. Every dream was of his wife, his wife- turned-rat eating his child. His wife-turned-rat whom he could not save. He dreamed of a mountain of bodies, a mountain that promised to grow. It was a marvel that a single night could allow him to dream of all that, but it did allow, as it had allowed every night since Norburg. And each time he dreamed, he saw the painting from the count’s chamber, the leviathan rising.
The sky was gray that morning, the gray that they had thought had maybe passed, the gray that hid yesterday’s smoldering sun, the gray that birthed a cold summer day. Under the tragic sky they came riding, five men on mares as black as coal, great and mighty steeds, muscles glistening with sweat from a hard ride, but not a far one. They came from a camp close by. Their armor was cast from black iron, much like the helm Theron wore from the north. But the metalwork on the riders’ was grotesque; the plates were unbalanced and spiked, and covered the riders head to toe, but for small slots for the eyes.
“We bring the demands of the Emerald Queen,” roared one of the riders, his faceplate lifted to expose a visage more mangled than Ken’s.
“Who is this Emerald Queen?” called back Theron. “We know of no queen. We answer only to the king.”
“You know of whom I speak, hunter,” said the rider. “She knows you are here.”
“What does she want? There was no talk of terms at Norburg, only a massacre.”
“Count Salvenius caused that massacre. He denied my queen that which she desired.”
“Queen of what?”
“Queen of Brynth, and all shall kneel before her. The Emerald Queen wishes to dine with you, Theron Ward. She extends an invitation for you to join her at her camp. Perhaps you will be offered some opportunity to serve beneath her, and you will not be slaughtered with the rest of Dentin’s filth.”
“Know this, knight of rats. The only time I’d ever consider serving beneath your queen is if I were to be giving her a good plowing from the bottom, but the Emerald Whore already has enough vermin cocks to see that done.”
Well done, Theron Ward. Well done. Ken could not see the fury on the man’s face from the distance, but he knew it was there.
“You will dearly regret those words, Theron Ward. I will spit on your gore after the swarm shreds you apart.”
“Spit on your own, you rotten bastard.” Chayse’s words were given a bit more punch by the arrow she shot into the rider’s exposed mouth. He fell from his horse and twitched for a bit on the ground, spurting blood up the arrow shaft and onto the grass around him, and then he died.
“Under parlay?” His Grace asked, eyes wide.
“I don’t parlay with rats,” Chayse said. “Besides, he was offering parlay for Theron alone. There was no mention of letting anyone else live.”
“A fine shot,” the duke replied, and Ken took that to mean they would see no opposition from him.
The other riders said nothing, but they did not retreat right away. They waited for a few moments, until the men on the battlements shifted with unease, the menace of the black iron knights amplified by their very stillness. Then they lit torches, turned, and trotted some distance before taking to gallop. As they went, they set fire to the fields and houses they passed.
“There is only conflict, sweet child. That is the force beneath everything, the struggle for control, for power. That is all there is; that is why I teach you how to fight,” the mother said to her golden-haired boy.
“Not everything, I am sure,” said the boy.
“Everything,” said his mother, her voice cold. “Raise your sword.”
“Even love is conflict?” asked the boy.
“Especially love.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hunters’ Battle
I t was night and it was chill. The clouds remained. The burning homes and fields were all but ash.
They heard them before they saw them. The squealing rats came with no torches, no siege engines, no lanterns. They did not light fire arrows and release a volley; they just tramped through the shadows, a black tide under a moonless sky. They squealed and shrieked; they gagged and retched; they snapped their jaws and dragged their c
laws.
“Not a man fires until my say-so,” Theron yelled. “I know you are all afraid. Use that fear, use your animal desire to live, to slaughter these beasts at your door. When we win, and when they all die, every man who fights will be etched into legend as the ones who crushed the plague of Brynth.” Theron clanged his pike on the battlements. The archers on the battlements roared and did the same. It was his first full-scale battle, and Theron Ward was afraid. And he was angry. And he accepted that his life, the life he had chosen, had led to this.
Ken was on the southern side of the outer wall, whereas Theron stood on the northern. He heard Ken shout, “Most of you lads are farmers?”
“Aye!” came the farmers’ cry.
“Then none of you are strangers to killing fucking rats! The only difference is their size and the guts you’ll be spilling from them as they squeal!”
“Rah!” cried the farmers, and they hammered their pikes ever harder on the walls.
“This fight will be fast, and it will be savage,” Theron said, voice ringing down the walls. “They will not strike in waves and they will not tire; they will come as a single great tide of meat! Give them the grinder!” Spittle flew from his mouth, and he could feel the muscles in his neck strain as he formed words to rally the men before they stared into horror, before they made the devils of hell bleed.
“Aldous, give us light!” Theron called up past the courtyard to the keep, where Aldous, Chayse, and the archers were at the ready on the higher position. They would fire over the walls past the pikemen and weaken the further ranks of rats.
A moment passed. Aldous did not produce light.
A second, longer moment passed. Still nothing.
“Aldous?” Ken called up.
“I’m trying to focus!” the wizard cried back, his voice cracking.
Theron could see them now, the rats. The first of them were close enough to be visible in the dark. They entered the trench and crawled out the other side.