I was nodding. Itax knew much and was in an oddly charitable mood. “Baduhanna, eh? I know precious little of anything,” I said, chewing on a spicy thing that resembled a broiled fish. I wished I had read more. “That palace of Nött’s, around this gate of Asgaard? Is it in Scardark?”
He snorted and gave me a wily look. “No, it is not. But don’t worry about it.” He gazed at a happy, pretty female svartalf, dancing with another. “People are happy enough. They kill hundreds in Ruugatha. But few innocents or cities burn. Children rarely get killed. Unless it’s the orcs warring. Stheno has respected the laws, and why shouldn’t she? She holds Nött’s Scepter and none can topple her throne. The dragon might change everything, though. Let him rule it, and Vastness will crumble into a warzone forever.”
“Where is Nött?” I asked him. “They told me little—”
He chuckled and looked bothered. “We don’t know. We don’t care.”
I thrummed my fingers on the table. He was lying “You do care. Did you see her?”
He hummed. “As a boy, I … made some mistakes with the goddess, but I guess I can say I loved her. As a small boy loves a dark, unattainable thing, I loved her. But she is gone.” He traced the marks of his mug on the table, absentmindedly.
“What would you do with the Scepter?”
He shook his head and drank red wine. “Get it for me and you’ll not regret. That’s all I can say. You need to concentrate on survival for now,” he smiled. “Survive and conquer, and we shall all do well. Aid me, and we shall all bathe in glory.”
“Right,” I told him. “Tell me about the Pit? That’s where I’m going anyway, right? Black Feast and then the battle. That’s where Kiera steals the Scepter.”
He got up and stretched, and his guards left to prepare. “You’ll be tested, Ulrich. We have gathered a thousand of the best and most savage slaves in the land. You will feast, and then you will be taken to the depths of the Red Tower. That’s the royal one. They have the Pit below, and Stheno and the kings and all the highest nobles will be there to see the gods pleased. They’ll sit in the balcony with their guards and nod as you die. And in that chaos, your Kiera will do her deed. You will aid her. Thak as well.”
“I’ve got no chance,” I whispered. “Even with the ring. Thousand fighters? We’ll be slaughtered.”
The Under Lord shrugged. “Well,” he smiled and leaned on me. “Half of them are loyal to me, and paid for by Shannon. You only have to concentrate on what’s going to happen next. You and Thak will create a great diversion. We’ll see how lucky we get.” He dragged me up and we left the tavern. He guided us through oddly shaped fields with dark vegetation and red and black fields of blotchy mushrooms, and I wondered how the plants could live without light. Magic, probably, I thought.
He shoved me to a stable, where his warriors had prepared short-snouted, long-tailed lizards and they strapped me to a saddle. He guided us to a road, and we began riding for Scardark. I felt sleepy, and let the sleep take me.
***
I woke up with a jolt. The lizard not to blame. There had been bad dreams, and my belly knotted as I looked around, still half in a world of nightmares, where the dragon had been chasing me.
I forgot the dreams in a split second.
The City of Scardark rose before us. The villages, magnificently built of stone and metals, rose up like anthills around the great walls. Lakes and rivers glittered between the villages. My eyes caressed the red towers above me, and I heard distant horns playing their music, the notes echoing far in the air where the birds screeched.
Around the villages, tents by thousands filled every spot. Banners of kings and queens rose high over the largest ones, the most elaborate tents and the martial symbols and brazen banners made a wonderful sight. “Behold, Stheno’s alliance,” Itax muttered. “A portion of her power, but the better portion.”
“How do they flutter?” I asked, my mind whirling. “The banners.” They did, they moved in the air.
“The flags?” He laughed. “That’s the one thing you are confused about? You’re a fool. If you have a banner, of course it must flutter. What’s the point otherwise, eh? Spells of Gift, that’s how. Concentrate, you pasty human fool. All Stheno’s best generals are here as she tries to kill the Masked One very soon. She’ll begin the war after the sacrifice.”
“It is a sight to remember. How do they feed them?” I murmured.
“Let the merchants and officials deal with that,” he said, exasperated. “Magic? Fish? Plant? Why would you care? Let them eat and let the peasants gather it all.” He snorted and led us down the road.
We took twisting turns in a series of fortified canyons that ringed the city. We passed fabulous castles guarding the lakes, and finally arrived in the tent cities, and the outlying villages. We passed into one of them, settled right below the gate. It was fifty feet high, wrought of gold and steel, and carved with silvery, leering beast heads. The walls rose one hundred feet, and were indeed painted with red beasts and ancient writing. “Not sure I’ve ever even imagined something like that,” I said, gazing up.
Itax chuckled. “Ancient and magical wall. Here we go,” he said. “It’s time.”
“How do you know the time?” I asked, so confused about everything.
He pointed beyond the city. There was a gentle stabbing light growing out of the face of the wall. It was glittering like the jewels of a god, and a simple white way led up to it. I thought, though I was not sure, there was a doorway in the face of the wall. “How far is that?”
“Half a day. It’s about halfway between Ban and Scardark. And before you ask, that’s the Hourlight of Vastness. It is how we know how to sleep and when to be awake, as set by the goddess. It shines when there is what you call a day in Asgaard, and sleeps the rest of the time. And this day the war shall begin, when the light is at its brightest.” He pushed me. “See, we made it here in time.”
I had not yet stopped wondering at the stabbing light. “Is that a doorway? Just beneath it? Where does it lead?”
He waved his hand. “To gods know where. None of our concern. What you need to do now, is to follow me.”
“Where shall you take me?” I asked.
“You are so annoying,” he breathed, “like a child. Shut your mouth. I could leave you here to wait, but you seem to be too curious for your own good. Come.”
He pulled me along and to the side of the gate. The Under Lord walked past mansions of fine orange marble, and then down an alley of red iron. Bright water shot high from many fountains along its length. Some were simple, others tall and graceful with fantastic animals. He took a turn left and the high walls of Scardark rose up majestically before us. We went closer and closer until the guards of Itax fell behind, their hands on their weapons. He pulled me along, and stopped in an alleyway. He braided together some sort of a spell, and an outline opened in the base of the building next to us. He grinned at me, and pulled open a doorway. It clanked and groaned somewhat crudely, considering it was obviously crafted with high magic. Beneath, darkness beckoned. A smoky stench rose from below, and before I could stop him, he grabbed the chain around my wrists, and pulled me inside.
There was a stairway, and then, a long room filled with moldy statues, artifacts, and even rotting paintings. I could swear some were from Aldheim, though they had been there for a long time. There was the ancient remains of a row of benches, and a jumble of what appeared to be a mound of books. The chain clinked as he pulled me to the far wall, where he moved aside a barrel.
He tapped a lighter spot on the wall. There was a mouth on the wall. I shuddered, as I remembered the lecherous door of Euryale. They had been a strange thing, and I wanted no part with such things, ever again. However, now I was forced to as it spoke with a thin voice.
“A dance and a black mass,
give the word, or you shall not pass.”
Itax took a theatrical pose, and did an incredibly dexterous dance, one I could never imitate. Then he sang a serie
s of sad notes, a song, which was surely spellbound. It made me so sad I felt like shedding a tear.
“Word,” he uttered after the song.
The door opened.
The realm of the Under Lord opened up before us.
It was an underground town. There was a river running thought it, a pier of moldy gold, and a sea of loot. In the midst of the huge chamber was a twenty-foot golden statue, and one to make a man blush. It was a nude elven female, holding her hands high. “Magnificent,” Itax mumbled and smacked his lips. “Always fabulous.” Around it, there were dragon’s hoards worth of treasure. There were heaps of jewels of all kinds and color, glittering like the sea. Coins, jewelry, golden vases. It was enough to drive a man crazy. “That sight should take your thoughts off the fight, eh?” he asked.
“Gathered with theft and lies,” I mumbled, but I could not turn my eyes away. “Why do you need Shannon’s deal?” It was obvious he didn’t. The dragon was right. If Kiera managed to steal the Scepter, he’d not honor his deal with Shannon, not for riches as least. He merely hoped I’d help make things easier for him as he stole the thing. He had given me the ring, but that too, would be his again.
He slapped my shoulder like he would a brother. “There is no limit to how many riches a svartalf can have. Of course I’ll make a deal that doubles my riches. Triples even. And if you choose right, I’ll need a castle to hold it all. In a bit, my friend, I shall take you to the gate. There, the slaves will be assembled. There, the kings and the queens will stand to greet you, and we’ll start this show.”
“You lost most of your slaves,” I muttered.
He shook his head. “Some. I had other ships. I didn’t lose too many, but I don’t like to lose money,” he complained. “Investment is investment, and risk is inevitable, but still.” He nodded below. “Look.” By the hoard of gold, an army marched. There were many jotuns, and Thak was one of them. Dozens of the dark-skinned creatures marched, ten feet and more, all well-armed. Behind them, a dozen dverger.
They must be dverger, I thought.
They were short, wide, and muscular, and all had coal-black eyes and gray skins. Behind them came hundreds and hundreds of svartalfs, some elves, and a few humans. They were all armored and armed with magnificent weapons, and a number of thieves and killers of Scardark’s underworld loitered near them, pointing towards us. “This is the rest of the investment. There will be a thousand Pit Fighters, and five hundred are my mercenaries. They are hired for the job. A breach of protocol, but works in our favour. Thak will guard you.”
Thak? Would he?
We stepped forward.
Thak looked up at us. He grinned at me sheepishly. Itax leaned close. “He’ll help you there. See, not everything is hopeless and evil. You’ll give them a fight worth seeing.”
I frowned. “So we will actually fight?”
He shrugged. “Yes. You’ll see what happens during the fight. Don’t die. It’s a possibility. Can’t make sure you lovelies survive,” he said. “It’s all about luck, no? And also, remember what we spoke of. Here.”
He handed me the Iron Trial. “Hide it under your armor.”
I took it unhappily and nearly chuckled. My belt was getting crowded.
He slapped my head to get my attention. “You can’t use the ring with the gauntlet, but only use the gauntlet and the mask when you must. Let the ring help you survive until it is time. Then use the Iron Trial.”
“I cannot use it,” I whispered. “It will burn everyone up.”
“Indeed, you must,” he said as Thak arrived. “The giant will release you from it when it’s all over.” He grasped my shoulder. “Good luck. No more secrets soon, eh?”
Thak nodded, his face a mask of worry. “I’m sorry, Ulrich. But it will soon be over.”
“Yes,” I said simply as Thak pulled me along as the mercenaries marched to pretend to be Pit Fighters. We took the doorway, and slowly went up. There were shouts upstairs, as Itax’s servants guided us back towards the gates.
Use Iron Trial? With Shannon’s unholy blood coursing through my dying body? Gods, what would it be like? I’d probably burn inside out. So would everyone else.
I looked up at Thak. He gazed up at me. We’d fight together.
But perhaps not to the end.
“Where is Kiera?” I asked.
“Hidden,” he answered. “Get ready.”
CHAPTER 15
We stood before the great gates of Scardark for hours. What was already a nerve-racking experience, turned into a tedious torture.
“They are waiting for something,” Thak rumbled, for the tenth time. The jotuns with him agreed with nasty grunts.
“Maybe they lost the key to the gate,” I muttered and wiped my face tiredly. I looked around at the great multitude of svartalf prisoners. There were exactly one thousand Pit Fighters there, captured warriors mostly, all swarming unceremoniously before the gates. They had been collecting there for hours and hours. Everyone looked like a professional fighter, well-armed and armored, many no doubt maa’dark. Most, in fact, I decided. Hundreds of magic-wielding maniacs hoping to survive in a Pit, and it would be a gods’ horrible shitty battle.
I turned away from them and frowned at the merchants. There were other providers like Itax, dealers who bought fighting slaves and they were gathered at the sides, probably trying to broker alliance deals and to lay bets.
I pulled at Thak. “So, assuming this shitty sacrifice and the theft of the Scepter will go as planned, which it won’t, what are the rules?”
He smirked and lifted one finger. “One wins.”
“One?” I asked him. “Are they betting on who that would be?” I nodded towards the merchants. Some of the rich svartalfs scuttled forward, others back, to do more deals, as others stared at the sacrifices thoughtfully. “Wow, that last pair standing must be the saddest wheezing pair of bleeding fools ever.”
Thak chuckled. “I bet it’s not as heroic as it might be. I have a hunch very few champions survive their wounds for long, even if they win.” He squinted at some of the merchants, who were pulling at their fighters, and one pointed at us. One fighter, a red-armored svartalf was listening to his master and sizing up the jotuns with an appraising eye. Thak spat. “They will gang up on us. Want to kill us fast.”
“Great,” I said sullenly. “Tell me what to do, then. I’m only a puppet, after all.”
“Just stay close,” he said. “Don’t drop your pants or the Iron Trial. And obey.”
Obey, I thought sourly. “You want me to use Iron Trial,” I said with resentful accusation in my voice. “Kiera gave me a wound that will eventually slay me in order to give me a brief god-like power. You expect me to create such chaos in there to give Kiera the chance to steal the Scepter. Right?”
He wiped his face. “Something like that.”
Something like that? What else could there be? “You gave me a wound—”
“Kiera did,” he growled and sighed. “I knew about it, yes. They said it would not kill you. But I can see it will, if they don’t help you.”
“I think Kiera would love to see me die, so they would resurrect me and—”
“I’ll not let it get to that, Ulrich,” Thak said. “Shannon is not that mad. Kiera might be.” He pulled me around. “Don’t forget your oaths.”
I gazed at him, and shook my head. “I’ll fight. But I won’t kill—”
“Gods, Ulrich,” he breathed. “Kill them. All of them, even the one you don’t want to kill. Let your soul bleed later.”
“Who would that be? The one I don’t—”
“Silence,” Thak said. “Wait.”
The doors stayed closed for the longest of time, until finally, something was taking place behind us.
The sacrifices turned to witness the council of Stheno arrive.
There, a procession of the regal royals of the svartalf cities approached. They rode richly-armored lizards, some rode mighty horses, even. There were the noble houses of the four loyal c
ities, and some allies, great nations with strong armies joining the throng.
Kallista, the Queen with her horn rode there, beautiful as the night. Kings with war crowns and ancient magical weapons rode with their guard. There were yellow and blue banners, with strange symbols of crabs, lizards, and dark suns. There were lesser nobles, and then there were the Dark Water clans.
Their Queen was there.
“Keep your mouth shut,” Thak said as he nudged me.
Cosia, and her guard arrived. She sat on her lizard, splendid in her armor, and for the briefest of moments I wanted to kill her right then. I fingered the ring on my belt, and wondered if it would do me any good if I tried to escape after ripping Cosia apart, but of course it would not.
“Splendid looking lot,” Thak said softly. “That Kallista is—”
“So, we are all here, save for Kiera. Where is Kiera, Thak?” I whispered.
He shoved me as the sacrifices were pushed aside by a few guards.
“We could murder them right now,” I growled. “And then escape.”
“Why would we?” Thak said, exasperated. “We’d break the laws and the customs. It would make no sense. The royals are not guilty of anything. And we’d still die. There would be no place to escape to, Ulrich. We’d be hunted and killed for breaking the laws of Nött. And trust me, those guards and nobles pack a terrible amount of power. We’d most likely fail.”
“Not with Iron Trial,” I muttered. “And no, I don’t understand why anyone would go to their deaths like a lamb. Kiera. Have you seen her? And what is Cosia going to be doing?”
He shook his head, not looking at me. “They arrive. Shut it. Just concentrate on the fight.”
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