Throne of Scars

by Alaric Longward

  I knew he was talking about Dana. Shannon didn’t move, but I sensed her patience with the svartalf was growing thin. “Where is she?” I asked. “This other one.”

  “First things first,” the svartalf said, and grasped a bottle of golden wine from the table. He appraised it with his eyes, used the dagger to twist the top off, and leaned back after an experimental sniff. His face was crinkled and then euphoric. He sighed and took a swig of the potent stuff, and his face was actually sweating, but I had rarely seen anyone so happy. He coughed and handed the bottle over to me. “Breath of Nax,” he said, gasping. “The best stuff there is.” I looked at Shannon, who declined the drink, probably raging inside for her inability to enjoy such treats. I hesitated, and took it, but didn’t drink. “My name is Itax. Of House of No Name.” He winked. He was a rogue of some sort. “Slaves, information,” he added as he saw my eyes widen. “Even the Vastness and Scardark need such as we.”

  “I see,” I said. “And why would you help—” I turned my face to the room next door. “Ah.”

  “Yes,” he smiled. “That is right. It is gold that runs the Nine Worlds, and gold is what we must collect to play the game, eh? Yes?” He frowned at my icy silence. “And I get something more than gold, but I’ll not share the details with you. I’m here to sell my services. Shannon has a need. What she needs is nearly impossible, but not quite. Not quite at all.” He handed her a blue bag the size of his palm. It was empty. “It only fits one. One.”

  Shannon nodded gratefully and hid it. She spoke with anger tingling in her voice. “An expensive bag. But do go on.”

  Itax got up from the table. The ring glinted again. His figure shifted for just a moment, and I remembered the way he had avoided the spells of the svartalf’s.

  I poked him with the bottle.

  He wasn’t there.

  I pushed back and fell on my back, rolling on the dust and into Shannon’s feet. The svartalf appeared at my side, and smiled widely, the dagger twirling between his fingers. “Well, you aren’t a total fool.” He frowned at the remains of the bottle. “Though you have no appreciation for a good drink.” He winked at me. “I’m well protected.”

  “He’s not a fool, only a human with a huge sense of honor,” Shannon agreed with a smile. “He’ll do his bit; no matter how many doubts he might have.”

  Itax drew the chair up for me, and slapped it. Hesitating, I sat down again, keeping the svartalf in sight. He deftly removed the ring and replaced it, and I was sure he’d not be where I now saw him. The ring was the cause of his displacement skill, and probably the way he altered some of his features, I thought. A dangerous svartalf. “What are we going to do?”

  He walked back to the desk and sat down on it again. “As the mistress here said, neither she nor I will share the plan with you lot. Only Kiera shall know it.” He hesitated and Shannon nodded at him heavily and he went on. “But here is what you need to know. In three Aldheim days, you must be at the gates of Scardark. It won’t be easy. The tunnels are dangerous. The Way of Echo’s is a warzone. There are the Eight that fight over the land. The game of Ruugatha … Have you heard of this?”

  I nodded. “There are families and nobles forever trying to knock off the king or the queen. If they manage, the rest of the fallen house belongs to them, or some flee. It’s some game Nött devised. Stheno rules the high seat. She sits on Nött’s throne, and holds the Scepter of Night, whatever it does. And she is a First Born, and not an easy one to topple from the Throne.”

  Shannon smiled from the side and mocked me gently. “See, it was a worthy visit to the Haven.”

  Itax smiled dreamily. “Golden books. Gems and treasures. I wish I could spend a day or two there,” he muttered and bowed apologetically. “You are right. Stheno is the Queen. Has been for thousands of years. But now, for the first time since Hel’s War, perhaps her shapely rear isn’t on a very stable seat. Your Queen here upset the plans to take Aldheim, and now, she is fighting to keep Svartalfheim.” He smiled at Shannon. “Twenty thousand svartalfs dead right here. Some kings even. More, if you count the slaves. I lost some of my operatives. Imagine! A clan of Jotuns died, and one was a king! The Dark Water maidens were butchered in their hundreds. Yes, many elves died as well.” He grinned at the thought of the chaos. “Stheno is now facing a rebellion.”

  “A rebellion?” I asked. “Who rebelled?”

  “Wait,” Itax said. “I—”

  “Where is Dana?” I pressed him.

  He played with his nails, frowning. “Patience, you bearded gutter rat. Dana? This other human I mentioned? She had that,” he said and nodded at my Bone Fetter. “She jumped in and was taken by Stheno’s guards. She made a mistake.”

  “She’s made many,” I cursed.

  “Indeed. But instead of bowing to Stheno, she tried to escape. She didn’t get far, not even with her vast powers. Her spell was formidable. You know, that fiery wave? Yes, you do. She killed some dozen guards.” He grabbed another bottle, and handed it to me. “She fought Stheno.”

  I looked at Shannon. Dana was not all evil.

  “How did it go?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Stheno holds the Scepter of Night. It is much like the dagger there.” He nodded towards the Famine. “It has huge power inside. Huge. And it grants the wielder many skills. It absorbs spells, for one. Mighty spells.”

  “Shit,” I whispered. “Why didn’t Stheno use it during the battle of the White Court? She was there.”

  Itax smirked. “She lost her nerve as Euryale died. Even the First Born can fuck up. She wanted to come back, though not that day.”

  I took the bottle, and he smiled. “Go on,” I said impatiently.

  He clicked his fingernails together. “Well, Stheno nullified Dana’s spell and grasped her. She took the Horn from her. Then she tried to reorganize the army. She probably thought about taking the war back in, but she changed her mind, and decided to call out all her armies. We heard her curse very loudly. She wept for her sister. Then something happened.”

  “The Dragon?” I asked. The Masked One. He had followed, hours later.

  “The Dragon, indeed,” Itax agreed. “Haven’t seen one in ages. And I know the Masked One. He lived there ages ago. With Hel’s War, most of them disappeared. Some betrayed Nött for Hel and others fled to faraway lands. But Masked One was back. He’s really upset the Vastness this time. Stheno got surprised when he ripped out of that gate. Stheno was about to close it for the time being. She had the Horn, of course, and she raised it to her lips, hoping to regroup for a new attack later on. She was now the gatekeeper, the mighty one, and even if Aldheim is what they always craved with Euryale—”

  “You know a lot,” I breathed.

  He looked bored. “I do. It’s my job. It’s what I sell, buy, and trade, sometimes indiscriminately.” He glanced at Shannon and shuddered with uncertainly and just a hint of nervousness as my friend stared at him without a word. He waved his hand. “But now I only work for the mistress here, of course.” He leaned to me. “Did you know they stole the Eye? Euryale? Cut it out with that very blade.” He nodded at Famine covetously. “They betrayed the gods as well. But their youngest sister, Medusa fought for Hel. She was—”

  Shannon slapped her hands together. “Get on with it.”

  Itax bowed. “My apologies. I’m a fool with a big mouth. There was a huge surprise, when that thing barreled out of the hole right when Stheno was about to blow the horn. They say dragons are all fire and mayhem.”

  I waited, he frowned.

  “Well, are they?” I asked, exasperated.

  He smiled. “Not so much fire than fear. It ripped into Stheno and then the army behind her. Hundreds died as it tossed Stheno through the ranks and raged into them. Then it raised itself to its full height, and let loose a spell of terror. It struck such absolute fear into hundreds of svartalf warriors, they all fled. Some fell dead, breathless, their hearts broken. Others turned to fight their kin in their fear. I think some might be st
ill fleeing.” He smiled at the thought. “There were kings and queens around Stheno. Many of the mighty cities of Vastness were presented. The dragon saw them, and cast another spell, a complicated, evil spell. A queen, and another king fell on their knees, breaking their oaths to Scardark. But the dragon wanted King of Ban, especially. He conquered his mind with that spell after a mighty struggle and the second mightiest city was suddenly his. Ruugatha without blood.”

  “Took over?” I asked with a frown. “You mean—”

  Itax tapped his finger on my forehead. “Ripped their minds out, and made them bow to him. They turned and ordered their armies to attack Stheno’s, who was only then getting up. Now there was fire, yes. The beast attacked through Stheno’s army, and exhaled poison and dark fire across the cavern, and thousands fell, while the armies fought each other. Then the beast turned its greedy eyes to the Horn on Stheno’s side. She lifted the Scepter of the Night. The dragon’s spells were useless. He cast fire and lighting and Stheno laughed at him. She removed her hood, and her eyes almost killed the dragon. She nearly, very nearly turned the dragon to stone with those terrible orbs. He looked away, and attacked. They fought a terrible battle of claws, fangs, and Scepter. And there it was. The dragon is not First Born. He ripped at the gorgon, but the gorgon fought him spell to claw, and hurt the beast badly. In the battle, the dragon got lucky, though. Battling her, Stheno was pushed off a ledge, and she lost the Horn. Lost it. Fell from her hands. Imagine that! She is a First Born, and gods, but I have rarely seen anyone fight a dragon like she did. To lose the Gjallarhorn due to clumsiness, though, is worth a thousand mocking songs by the best of the bards. The dragons, Ban, and the others retreated and fled, and the war began across the Vastness and the tunnels.”

  “How old are you?” I asked him. It was impossible to decide, and I noticed he looked immediately younger, as if he’d reacted to my question. “You don’t—”

  “You already know I’m not what I look like. I’m old to you. Old to mistress here,” he said softly and bowed. “Old is old. It’s not subjective. I’m older than most of the kings of the Vastness. But back to the business before the mistress removes my throat. There is now a War of the Eight Cities. Scardark fights Ban and the two other cities, and Stheno’s allies are trying their best to beat the dragon’s armies. A queen of one city died last week, another lost a king yesterday in an ambush. There is a cruel stalemate in Svartalfheim.”

  “What has the dragon done with the Horn?” I asked him, holding my head.

  He clicked his fingernails together again.

  Shannon answered. “Not a thing.”

  “He can use it, though? The First Born can, can’t they?” I asked.

  “They can,” she noted. “But the dragon is not First Born. Itax just told us.”

  Itax slammed his feet on the floor to chase off a big spider, a look of disgust on his face. “Excuse me,” he snorted. “Hate them. Lizards, spiders, snakes. I hate the lot. Now the Queen here is probably right. The dragon might wish to blow it, but perhaps it cannot? It hasn’t. It hasn’t sought out any of the old, closed gates. It might mean the beast has business in Svartalfheim, it might mean he cannot use the Horn. What he is planning, I know not. But he wants something.”

  “Tell him, Itax,” Shannon said. “I bore of the banter.”

  “Yes, mistress,” Itax said.

  “Mistress of mercenaries,” I muttered.

  He looked at me unkindly, probably thinking where to stick a dagger in. There was a cruel streak in him and he didn’t like humans any more than elves did. “There’s this bit of news,” he said, “that while Ban’s and Stheno’s armies are busily butchering each other across the Vastness, they are also talking. They are negotiating. Stheno will want the Gjallarhorn. The dragon wants something else.”

  “What might it want?” I wondered.

  “See, how you despise a mercenary, and yet wonder at the news one brings,” he smiled humorlessly. “Yes, Stheno’s discussing. She’s desperate to end the war.”

  “What does the dragon want in return?” I asked.

  “That I do know as well,” he said. “He wants the Scepter of Night.”

  “Why?” Shannon asked.

  He shrugged. “The dragon has not shared his reasons.”

  Shannon frowned. “Are you sure you do not know?”

  He threw up his hands. “I do not! It’s an ancient thing, and little is known about it. I—”

  I slammed my hand on the chair. He looked at me as if I had broken a holy artifact. He was developing a serious dislike for me. I spoke. “And you said you are older than the old.”

  “I do not know!” he yelled, totally losing his composure. “I have no idea. I’m not privy to everything and Nött held the thing close. She didn’t share its secrets.”

  “Have you seen the goddess?” I asked, trying to hide my excitement.

  “She’s gone,” he answered. “Forget Nött.”

  “What was she like?” I pressed.

  He sighed and slumped. “Goddess of the Aesir, Vanir? I know not. She set the rules, much like Freyr did here. Elves fought to be the Regent, and there, kings and queens fought to keep or take a throne, and once dead, a king and a queen lost all their soldiers and holdings to the winner and so it went on. Deaths by battle were many, but she dispensed justice if one, for example, killed the family of the deceased king. Thieves loved Nött. Her city was a thing of shadows and deadly games. Nött was … exciting. I do not know if she took sides in Hel’s War.”

  “Where did she go?” Shannon asked.

  “Asgaard, they say, summoned by Odin for the war.” Itax frowned. “No more questions, please. I may act like I know many things. I charge well for sharing secrets, but I don’t know everything about history of the kings and queens, and damned thrones. I do not. Can you forgive me? Now shall we move on?”

  “Yes,” Shannon whispered. “But do not spin tales, Itax of No House. I’ve been told tales plenty in my past. I killed Euryale for it.”

  His eyes went to Famine and he bowed low. “I am sorry, mistress. I’ll do better. In any case, Stheno isn’t giving up the Scepter. If the dragon wants it, then it would surely be a bad idea to let go of it. Instead, she is seething to kill the dragon. Armies are gathering. She is collecting all her allies into Scardark shortly.”

  We sat there quietly, until Shannon turned. “We have to get the Scepter. And then we’ll trade it for the Horn.”

  I sighed. “You want us to fetch it? Stheno holds it. She literally holds it. No way does she let go of it, even to wipe her shapely ass.”

  “Yes, she does,” she whispered. “She keeps it close. But still, you will get it. Then you will deal with Ban and the dragon, and you will get me the Horn. Speak, Itax.”

  “So, Kiera will lead the party to the Scardark,” I said and eyed Itax, “and—”

  “And you have to make it in three days,” the svartalf said thinly. “It takes but a day if you use the Way of Echoes, but slightly more, if you take the side tunnels.”

  I shook my head. “Three?”

  He smiled. “Yes. Three days, or it will be too late. The war will have begun. You must leave tomorrow.”

  “Will you guide us?” I asked him, unhappy not knowing anything about the plan.

  He shook his head. “I’m not risking my neck any more than I must. The Screaming Pit is not a place for a holiday, and that’s where you go if you get caught skulking around the tunnels with the enemy. And so you will use your guides. I heard you have some. But it’s three days, or you can turn back and come here to die.”

  “And then what?” I asked.

  “Hmm?” he asked.

  “And how in Hel’s name shall we get the Scepter out? And how will we find the Masked One?”

  Itax smiled. “As I said, they shall feast. After this, they shall pray to the gods in the Oxarath, the Arched Temple. It is a holy place—”

  “Temples are, you longwinded bastard,” I muttered.

 
; “Holy place,” he went on, “and—”

  Shannon shook her head. “Kiera will know, Ulrich. You trust her, and fight for her. We shall make it.”

  “Stheno holds it,” I growled. “We cannot kill her. She is First Born.”

  Shannon looked me in the eye. “Kiera will steal it. Itax knows how. Then he’ll take you out of Scardark. You and Thak, and Ittisana, will all have your part to play in the theft and the negotiations.”

  I stared at her eyes, and she stared at mine. She had promised. Nothing dishonorable. So I agreed, because she was my friend. “Three days,” I said.

  Itax sighed and got up. “Finally. Indeed. Am I dismissed then?”

  “You can go, Itax. You know the plans,” she said. “They’ll leave tomorrow. Ittisana will guide them. Thak and Ulrich will guard them. Kiera will lead them. And Cosia will come along in chains.”

  “Cosia?” I asked her with surprise. “Why? She is—”

  She looked at me and didn’t answer. I felt uncomfortable and glanced at Itax, who had smiled, but the smile disappeared from his lips. There was something odd about the whole situation.

  Itax slapped a hand on my shoulder. “Get to the gates of Scardark. Crawl in shit, but get there. I’ll find you there. The Way of Echoes is dangerous, but fast. If it is uncontested, use it. If not, find less travelled ways. Let gods guide you. Nött’s luck on you.” He stole a bottle of wine, and left.

  I waited.

  Shannon turned, her face drawn. She looked down, staring at her hand. There was a brief frown as she looked at the yellow and white joints. There was the old Shannon, the new Shannon and both fought each other. After some time had passed, she spoke hollowly. “I’ve done things that would make you wither from me.”

  “Perhaps,” I said softly. “Yes.”

  “Anja, and maybe Albine? They are all my enemies now. Even Dana,” she said.

  “Your allies are mighty loyal,” I said neutrally and sighed. “And I am one of them. Though I cannot forget what you have done. Let the Horn mend you.”

  She smiled. The dead thing could smile. She saw it and waved her bony hand. “Oh, just like the dead grave power, they can enjoy themselves. I told you. We enjoy the joy of a party, a feast, we dance. Have you seen the draugr? They dance, they listen to songs like children. They captured an elven bard the other week. They had him play until he died, and then I had to raise him and there he is, still playing.” She giggled and I nodded, trying to smile, but I failed and she saw it. “You will have to trust me. I trust you, most of all.”