by Jeff Gunzel
“Go on, then,” Liam replied casually, meeting the king’s glare with an almost cheery expression. “But whatever it is you need so desperately from us, you will then be short one person.” His smile dropped away, eyes narrowing. “You shall not beat me at my own game. You need something, and we value our lives. And unless I miss my guess, time is not a thing you can afford to be wasting on bartering, just so as not to appear weak. We are past that now. Speak your mind, or go and leave us in peace. But my assumption is that if you choose the latter, we shall not be seeing you again.”
The king spun away, disgusted. Liam was reading him like a book, and there was nothing he could do about it. But there was no time to let a bruised ego get the best of him. The city was in grave danger and he needed all the help he could get. Pride simply could not be a factor in such important matters as this.
“I offer you all a chance to fight for your lives,” the king said plainly, still facing away from Liam’s cell. “There is a force making its way towards Shadowfen as we speak. Attack is imminent. We need every able body who can hold a sword up on the front lines. I don’t have a single man enlisted who has the same skill set as this group.” He swallowed, then looked up at the ceiling. “I am asking you to help defend my city.”
“And if we refuse, leaving you and Shadowfen to fall?” Owen laughed, thoroughly enjoying the reversal of fortune.
“Then perhaps we will all share a mass grave together!” the king roared in response. “How exactly do see your fate being any different than mine? Do you not know where you are?! If my city gets overrun, we will all perish. All of us!” He turned back to Liam, believing him to be the most moral of the bunch. “Every man, woman, and child in this city will meet an end so gruesome it will haunt your nightmares for years to come. That is, if you even live long enough to experience those nightmares.”
“And where is this great threat coming from?” Liam asked, having some doubts about the whole situation. “Shadowfen is the largest city for miles in any direction. Who would have the gall to attack you? Who would–”
“Your precious lerwicks,” the king hissed, moving close to Liam’s cage. “That’s who.”
“Impossible,” Liam whispered, his rejection of the absurd claim at odds with what his eyes were telling him. The king was truly terrified. Whether it was impossible or not, the king certainly believed it to be true.
“I wish that were true,” the king stated. “For years I believed Jarlen was the only one of those creatures in existence. Then he lured Viola to me and proved there were more. They had to come from somewhere, Liam. Is it so hard to believe that there might be more just like them?” He pulled out the message from his vest pocket, then crumpled it in one hand before throwing it at Liam. It bounced off the bar and rolled across the floor. “Are all my scouts wrong? Every last one of them?! Does that seem reasonable or even likely to you?”
Speechless, Liam’s thoughts swirled, pulling his mind in a hundred different directions at once. It made perfect sense that there should be more of them, but of course he hadn’t seen any. No one had. But what chilled him to the bone was what this might mean as far as the ghatins were concerned. All this time they had been pursuing Viola, and so far they had managed to protect her. No doubt they were aware of Jarlen after he had killed several ghatins already, but they probably still viewed Viola as the easier target. But those were the only two believed to exist. Was she still the focus of their attention, or had their plans changed given this new information?
“This is no longer about you and me,” the king said, speaking to everyone. “I made my position clear already. Your deaths were to be little more than a diversion for the people. I needed to channel their anger somewhere other than at me. I’ve already admitted as such. Well, that is no longer a factor. When these lerwicks start tearing the city apart and dragging folk from their homes, you four will be the last thing on their minds. The situation has changed.
“I am making this choice simple for you. Help defend my city, and by doing so you will be defending countless innocent lives. Or stay down here under lock and key as the walls come tumbling down around you. Yes, you may lose your lives on the battlefield, but you will most certainly die if I leave you down here. Make your choice. I will not offer freedom a second time.”
* * *
Her back pressed against Viola’s, Salina gripped her wooden sword with two hands. Holding it high above her head, she scanned the circle of adversaries closing in from all sides. “How does it look on your side?” she mumbled over her shoulder, not daring to take her eyes off the danger.
“I’m sure my view is no different than yours,” Viola groaned, also keeping a watchful eye on the lurking threat before her. Spiritists moved from side to side, shifting their swords from one hand to the other. Others twirled staffs with a whooshing sound. “Are you ready, Salina? We go on the count of three.”
“All right. Three!”
“Wait! What?” Viola felt Salina push off her back. Um... We’re going to have to work on that part.
Viola leapt forward, her arms flashing out. Flesh blades intercepted the first two strikes as wooden swords came chopping down. Pushing off to deflect them wide, Viola dropped to one knee and spun her leg back. Heel first, the hard leg sweep knocked two opponents right to the ground. Winded from the impact, all they could do was blink before two streaking flesh blades streaked towards their faces, then stopped right before their eyes. Viola held the pose, the points at the end of her arms only an inch away from each forehead. The spiritists swallowed, not daring to move.
“You two, out!” came a call from nearby.
Salina blocked low, then ducked the strike coming in from the side. Dipping her shoulder, she rolled forward, wooden swords clacking down on the stone just as she tumbled past. Completing a third roll, she sprang to her feet and whirled back, intercepting the strike zipping towards her face. Stepping into the opposing spiritist, Salina drove a surprise elbow right into his cheek. His knees buckled momentarily, but she had no time to take advantage.
Ducking another strike coming in from the other side, she used her own downward momentum to tackle the first stunned opponent. Rolling right over him as he fell back, she made a hammer-like motion over his face with the pommel of her sword before rolling off and springing back to her feet.
“Out!”
The clatter of practice swords clacking against Viola’s flesh blades rang out like driving rain on a tin roof. On the defensive, she whirled about, deflecting blows coming in from all angles. The spiritists pushed hard, trying to overwhelm her with sheer numbers and aggression. Her speed and precision were hard to believe, but no one could withstand such an onslaught for long.
Unable to mount any offense, she spun and twisted while chipping strikes just enough to misdirect them at the last second. She didn’t dare commit to a full block, or the surrounding flurry would overwhelm her. It was all about buying time, then seizing an opening when it presented itself. Each time she dropped her blades, they went high. When she raised them even a little, they attacked low, all in perfect unison. The spiritists were skilled to be sure, but they seemed to trust their eyes each and every time. Skilled, yes, but they lacked a warrior’s instinct.
After sidestepping one strike, ducking a second while chipping off a third, Viola stepped back and lowered her blades slightly. Predictably, the surrounding opposition lunged at the perceived opening. In a blur, Viola committed completely, her flesh blades blazing across the almost perfectly aligned wooden swords. Many shattered in a spray of splinters while others tumbled through the air, nearly broken in half, yet still holding together by a few loose fibers. Just as fast as her first strike came, she whirled back with her other blade and streaked across their necks. She cut no one, but the strike was so close they could feel the air.
“You five, out!”
“I’ve got you,” another spiritist growled to herself, charging Viola from behind. Stepping into the stabbing strike, her blade met noth
ing but air as Viola’s body seemed to explode from within. Off balance from the over commitment, the spiritist tumbled through a funnel of black birds. She screamed, dropping her sword. Dropping to her knees, she covered up her face against the flapping funnel that would have picked her flesh clean had Viola chosen to.
“Out!” came the amused call.
Salina danced about, her wooden blade flashing left and right. With one opponent in front of her, two at her side, she lunged forward while evading the strike coming in from her right. Surprised by the aggressive move given her obvious disadvantage, the man in front stabbed straight out. She twisted her body as the stab just barely kissed her elbow, then trapped his arm underneath her own. Using all her power and momentum, she spun back while still holding his arm, smashing an elbow beneath his jaw. Stunned, he went rigid on his feet, but she didn’t have time to notice.
Spinning back to face the other two, she saw Viola coming up fast from behind them. Her smile gave it away, and one turned to see the threat fast approaching. “I yield,” said the first, wanting no more part of these girls, even though it was now an even two on two. He threw his sword down on the stone.
“I yield,” said the girl, dropping hers too and throwing her hands up. There was simply no point in continuing. After what these two had already done to so many, the result was already a foregone conclusion.
“And...out,” Rishima said, rising from her seat, clapping her hands. All the spiritists watching began clapping, even the ones who had been beaten. Rishima and Bella approached them as the gathered crowd of spiritists stopped their applause and began to disperse. “I am most impressed.” She looked at Salina. “I sent you off as a spy, yet it seems you’ve returned to us a warrior.”
“Even as a spy,” Salina blushed, still having trouble getting used to the Moon Mistress’s informal attention, “I still had to go through the training. There was no way around that.” She bowed her head. “And I am better for having done so, Moon Mistress.”
“And you,” Bella said, addressing Viola with a sly grin. “I think we may have found ourselves a secret weapon. I might just have to enlist you in the spiritist army.”
“Yes, Queen Bella,” Viola said, not really knowing how to answer. Yes, she had certainly honed her skills in the pit. She was not the same person now as when she had gone in. She went in as an innocent child, but returned a killer in every sense of the word. They might be praising her skills, but she despised how she had gotten them. The experience was something she wanted to forget, although that would never happen.
“Come, walk with us,” Rishima said, taking Bella by the hand before leading them way. Heading back inside the tower, both Viola and Salina assumed they would be going to the dining hall. It only made sense, seeing how hard they had just worked to show off their talents to the other spiritists, working up quite an appetite in the process. But instead they ended up being led back to Rishima’s private chambers.
After seating them, Rishima peeked out into the hall one last time, looking left and right as if expecting someone to show up unexpectedly. She was normally so trusting of the other spiritists, so her behavior seemed odd indeed. Even Bella didn’t seem to know what was going on. “I must speak with you,” Rishima said, addressing no one in particular as she snuck back in from the hallway.
“What is wrong, my dear?” Bella asked, confused.
“Nothing, I’m sure,” Rishima replied, sounding nowhere near as confident as her words. “I just feel as if an update to some recent discoveries might be in order. I recently spoke with members of the scouting parties that were sent out to locate Mayor Teortic’s lost citizens. They turned up nothing.”
“Have you consulted the spirits on the matter?” Bella asked.
“Of course.” Rishima nodded.
“And they know nothing?”
“They are...confused,” Rishima said, sounding unsure as to how to explain. “It is not unusual for the spirits to be cryptic at times, but this was different somehow. Something is off, for lack of a better way to put it. They cannot answer even the simplest of questions because they themselves have been distracted by an energy, a tainted force of some kind. And from what I can tell, the source of that foul energy is nearby.”
She looked at Viola, forcing a smile as best as she could. “A little early for concern, I’d say, but I must insist that we double your guard for a while. At least until we get a better sense of what’s causing this disturbance. We can’t take any chances, you see.”
“I understand,” Viola said. “In the meantime, is there anything else you need me to do?”
“No,” Rishima replied after giving it some thought. “It’s just that I’ve never seen the spirits act like this before. Being not of this world, they always seem somewhat disconnected—confused, even. But it’s never been this extreme before.” Rishima sighed and shook her head. “Disappearing townsfolk. The spirits’ energy suddenly disrupted by some unknown force. We just need to be careful until we know more. That will be all for now. Everyone dismissed.”
Chapter 14
Geared up with all his weapons strapped to his black battle suit, Owen gazed around at the barren streets. It was hard to believe this place had been bustling with people only a few hours ago. Angry folk who wanted to see him hang now hid in their homes, praying he might come to their aid. The entire city was practically a ghost town. Soldiers stalked back and forth across the top of the wall while fingering their weapons, jumping at every snapped twig and bird call. The silence that had fallen over Shadowfen hung like a dark blanket of fear.
“Too quiet,” Owen grumbled, scanning the top of the wall.
“Agreed,” Liam said, also keeping his eyes peeled, eyeing the main gate now and then. Nearly all of Shadowfen’s army stood at their back, yet a sneeze or cough would have sounded like thunder in this silence. “The men are frightened. The recent ghatin attack is still fresh in their minds. I’m afraid they are not ready for this, so it will be up to us to take this fight to the enemy.”
Liam had insisted on taking control of the troops, if only to use his own strategies to fend off the first wave. After that, it would most likely turn into a free-for-all. There was no time to discuss proper tactics with the men. A real battle plan would have taken days to prepare. But to his relief, he found that the well-trained soldiers were familiar with the most basic tactics, universal to any army. If they listened to him and obeyed his commands without hesitation, some just might survive. The acting commander was not pleased at being relieved of his duties, but the decision was made for the greater good. It would take most men a lifetime to equal Liam’s military knowledge, and there was no better man for the job.
“We should just escape the moment we have a chance,” Thatra said, her antsy fingers tapping the hilt of her sword. “We owe this city nothing. First they wanted our blood and now they beg for our help? How is that just?”
“It isn’t,” Liam said flatly. “But few things in life are. You are your own woman, Thatra, and I have great respect for you no matter what you choose to do. If you want to run when the fighting starts, neither I nor Owen will stop you.” She muttered something under her breath that he didn’t quite catch.
“But I can do no such thing,” he continued. “As much as I despise our situation and what the king has done to us, I am also compelled to agree with his logic. Love them or hate them, these people do not deserve to die. I will not turn my back on them, even if that means the possibility of my own death. An hour ago I was prepared to die for nothing. Now I’m ready to die for a true cause. Some might argue that it’s all the same in the end, but I just don’t quite see it that way.”
“Of course you’re right,” Thatra grumbled with just the slightest hint of shame in her voice. “I was just thinking out loud.” She looked back over her shoulder, past the military men formed up in rows. “I would never leave her here like that, you know,” she said softly to herself. Assirra was back there somewhere. The king knew she was no warrior
and had purposely kept her off the front line. She was to serve her primary role as a healer. Still, Thatra couldn’t help but wonder if keeping her under close watch was just a way of ensuring that they would keep their end of the bargain and not desert the city. If so, it was working.
King Milo kept a safe distance behind his men. Surrounded by his bodyguards, he decided it was best he remain in sight for the sake of his men’s moral. Sure, he could wait in the keep until it was over, barricading himself behind locked doors. But what would be the point? If the city was taken, it would only be a matter of time before they purged each structure until no one was left alive anyway. If he was to die this day, he would do so on his feet like the proud king he was.
But despite the dire circumstances, the king still had the rare ability to look beyond the current situation. Calm when others might panic, he was always three steps ahead. It was time to implement the second part of his plan.
“You there,” the king said to Assirra. She flinched, then turned to him but said nothing. “I want you to go join the other healers.” He pointed to a group of men and women dressed in commoners’ clothing standing far behind the soldiers. Normally they would be dressed in white garments, but the king ordered them to be discrete. If the enemy could discern who the healers were, the largely defenseless group would be wiped out in an instant.
“As you command,” Assirra said, bowing slightly before rushing off. She didn’t much like the idea of being closer to the front lines, yet staying near the king somehow seemed worse. She knew the thought was illogical, seeing as how she was safer near him. Still, she couldn’t help but feel some small measure of relief at being dismissed.
Milo turned to Diovok, who was standing at his side as always. “I need you on the front lines. We’ll need all the firepower we can get.” The silent giant nodded, then turned to go join the rest of the military. But just as he turned, the king snatched him by the arm. “But we must also plan ahead,” Milo added. “If the battle turns in our favor and it no longer appears we need their services,” he pointed with his chin towards the front line, “then I authorize you to eliminate the prisoners discreetly. Deal with the mystic first; our men can handle the others.” Again, the giant nodded his understanding before lumbering away.