Throne of Scars

by Alaric Longward

  She was not invincible though. Not against Stheno.

  Kiera was lingering near, her eyes on Dana, then Shannon. I growled at her. “Forget Dana, Kiera. And go and help Shannon.”

  “Will you?” she asked bitterly. “Now that you know everything.”

  I bit my lip, furious. They had always meant to kill Stheno, to gain the land and its armies, and war would go on indefinitely. I had asked Shannon to give the Horn to the gods, and she had had no intention to do so. Both Itax and the Masked One had been right. I had been disappointed, and I was mightily unhappy about that.

  I had decided to take the dragon’s offer. Perhaps I should do more and attack them all. My eyes lingered on the Scepter and Kiera lifted her eyebrow suspiciously.

  Instead, I said nothing to Kiera, and kneeled next to Dana, as the mercenaries rammed into the svartalfs below. Stheno was moving closer to Shannon, who stood on top of the pillar, staring down at her. The royals were spreading after their queen, while some whirled to look at the mercenaries.

  Shannon was Hel’s thing, I thought. Fully. But Stheno would spread misery just like her. I shook Dana. “Will you help us?”

  Dana hesitated, licking her bloodied lips. I pulled her around and she scowled at me.

  “She is your sister,” I told her.

  “She wants me dead,” she whispered. “You did, as well.”

  “Stheno will get you killed just the same, fool girl,” I cursed her. “And I won’t let Shannon kill you. I just shielded you from them.”

  “Stheno gave me this chance …” she began and shook her head, knowing I was right. Stheno would kill her in an eye blink when her mood changed.

  “Your fear killed her. Cannot be undone,” I growled at her. “But you can start redeeming yourself. And who knows?” I said with spite. “Maybe you’ll get all the power and riches you always dreamed of by doing what’s right for once?”

  She rubbed her face, the chains clinking. “I tried to do the right thing for once. I tried to flee Stheno when I jumped into the portal. I released a spell at her. She wasn’t happy. I guess she will never really forget, just like Shannon. Fine,” she said desperately. “I’ll fight. For you.”

  I squeezed her shoulder gratefully.

  Below, one of the kings of the Scardark rushed back to support the guards, who were grimly holding their own. The great one dodged a jotun’s strike, and killed the last dverg with a bright spear that cut through its armor like butter. The short warrior fell on his back, and the battle-mad king roared, raging, and led his guard against the mercenaries. Three jotuns were slaying their enemy savagely. The king whirled and braided together a spell of ice, and one jotun fell dead, as an icy spear impaled it from below. A bitter fight concentrated around the king and Thak. Thak was hacking and slaying. The king laughed wildly as he killed a charging svartalf with a lightning quick strike, and held the thing with the spear before ripping out its innards. The king moved, hunting for the other jotun. Thak roared a warning, as the dark-skinned giant whirled, but the merciless spear cut to its belly. The jotun screamed, changed into a gigantic bear and buried the royal under claws and jaws, before dying of ax and sword hits. The guards swarmed forward, and many mercenaries fell.

  Kiera shook her head, her undead eyes full of loathing and uncertainty. “Use the Iron Trial,” she hissed.

  “You go and fight, Kiera,” I said, hoping not to take the terrible artifact out.

  The mercenaries were still fighting, but the enemy were pushing shields at them, and spearing many. Thak was smashing and cutting at the enemies, breaking shields and raging and the mercenaries killed many a foe in front of them, but it didn’t look good. Two queens had abandoned their attack on Shannon and were maneuvering, their blades out. The other three royals flanked Stheno as she faced Shannon. One of the queens, a tall, skinny one braided together a spell that sucked the air out of the mouths of six mercenaries, which were cut down as they writhed in the sand. Thak was rolling, hoping to avoid what a hauntingly beautiful short queen was about to release at him.

  I pulled Dana close, whispered to her. “Kill them. And later, there is something I can do, if things go wrong. Something that can save both of us. Trust me.”

  She hesitated. She nodded.

  Then she turned to face the battle below. She called for her mighty powers, and I stood and guarded her, especially from Kiera, who was fondling the great Scepter nervously, looking down at the battle and then at Dana, and perhaps since Dana was about to aid us, she left Heartbreaker in its sheath. Dana swayed and released the spell. The flaming inferno roared to life, nearly sucking me down the pyramid after it, and it burned and swirled through the battling troop below. It roared through most of our few remaining troops, and I bit my lip, having not thought to save them. Skeletal, crispy remains and blackened armor fell around the room, bits of flaming flesh sizzling, and then the inferno passed through the enemy troops, Spears burned, svartalfs screamed, their flesh ablaze. The tall queen shrieked, her spell of protection sparing her flesh, but the heat made her kneel in pain, and then the lack of air snuffed out her life and she burst into flames amidst the chaos. The other queen was tottering away, and Thak appeared in the midst of the flaming hell, and impaled her through her chest so brutally, her arm and part of her chest was ripped away.

  The flames died.

  Thak was left standing.

  Stheno and her followers attacked Shannon. Fire roared alive around our old friend. Ice encased her feet, and lightning struck out to get her. One jagged bolt fell away, her guards absorbed another.

  She stood her ground, her skin glowing.

  Famine glinted, as lightning struck her again and the ice made its way up to her chest. The fire swirled around her, and singed her hair. She grimaced and roared and released a spell of dark fumes and death. The ice around her broke and the fumes slithered down like snakes. Two kings saw the spells were coming for them, backed off, and ran. The spells caught them and they screamed inside their defensive spells, their faces turned rotten and moldy and they crumbled into piles of dead meat. The last one, a tall queen took steps back, and back, and Thak rammed his sword through her spine.

  Stheno whirled.

  She ripped off her hood and gazed around. Two svartalf mercenaries and some guards died. Their eyes bled, their faces hardened, and they fell down, dead as stone. Thak roared and whirled away, holding his eyes. Stheno turned around to us, and I looked away, pain stabbing at my eyes. Dana shrieked as well, falling on her knees. Stheno’s wicked eyes scoured around. On the balcony svartalfs turned to stone. Some fell down, and rolled in the sand. Stheno whirled and stared up at Shannon. She didn’t flinch under the deadly stare, but Stheno was after Kiera and the Scepter.

  She blinked and moved like a lightning strike. Kiera was rolling as Stheno appeared before her, so close to us. I cursed and lifted the mask, and tried to place it on my face. The time for doubt was over.

  Stheno saw my movement, whirled in fury, and released her spells at us.

  A dozen lightning bolts struck the top of the pyramid. Stone was broken, part of the pyramid collapsed. Kiera disappeared and appeared near the bottom of the structure, holding the Scepter. I was hurled down the steps, spitting blood, my chain mail smoking. Dana rolled down as well, stopped by the chains, her back a steaming red mass of charred flesh.

  In my pain, I saw Stheno move like a flash, and Kiera dodging away again, drawing the Heartbreaker.

  Shannon grew brighter, the crows fluttered in the air and she landed near them. Shannon’s lightning stabbed at Stheno, and she howled as a red snake was torn from her head. She picked herself up, saw Thak rushing silently for her. She dodged—like a cat—another lightning strike from Shannon, pulled two swords from the ground, and a spear and faced off with the jotun. She parried the twelve-foot giant, her eyes trying to catch the eyes of Thak. The giant had to look away and he dodged a spear with luck, parried a sword, and howled as a sword stuck into his thigh. Kiera rushed behind Stheno, and
Heartbreaker rammed into her back. The monster howled, turned, and grasped the Scepter. Her spear slapped Thak so hard he fell on his back, half senseless.

  She howled with triumph as she tried to wrestle the Scepter off Kiera. Shannon’s spell, a stream of fire fell apart around them. The Scepter would make her invincible, and so she held on to it, and Kiera held it back. The dead elf was brave. She stabbed and stabbed at Stheno, hacked at her face and head, severing another snake, and took horrible punishment for it. Stheno struck her with the swords, opening a wound in her hip. Then she rammed the hilt into Kiera’s body, face, and skull, breaking bones with every strike. “Let go, you Hel spawn!” Stheno screamed as they struggled and rolled in the dust.

  I crawled up to my knees, vomiting, and then tried to find the mask. I couldn’t see it. I sneaked up to Dana, flinching each time Kiera was struck savagely and tried to find the artifact.

  “It’s somewhere under me,” Dana panted, trying to pull herself up. I cursed and pushed and pulled her, grasped her hips and lifted her higher, and saw the mask in a crack of stone. I pushed her onto the broken pyramid and thrust my hand at the crack.

  Below, Stheno had to face Shannon, while battered Kiera held on to the Scepter. Shannon was coming forward, Famine glinting.

  She let go of a spell, a fire spear that dissipated around Stheno.

  She gazed at Famine, cursed and let go with a lightning strike of her own. It raced at Shannon, who shrieked as it burned into her chest. She spat undead blood, and got up, just to see Stheno renew her spell.

  Thak saved them.

  He crashed into Stheno and Stheno shrieked with rage and they rolled on the ground.

  Stheno lost her hold on the Scepter.

  Thak was fighting, bleeding, his sword coming for Stheno, who kicked at him. Thak flew in the air for twenty feet and rolled weakly to his belly.

  Stheno turned to Shannon and screamed as she saw Shannon finishing a spell.

  A mighty stream of pulsing fire roared for her. Stheno’s face turned partially black, and some snakes were on fire. She shrieked and rushed around, burning. She looked up at the balcony. There, stricken svartalf nobles and their families looked down. Some turned to stone. She cast a spell, and appeared in the middle of them, turning to attack Shannon with fires of her own. Shannon moved, cursed, looked at me furiously as I tried to extract the mask from the stone. She flickered in the air and turned into crows, and followed Stheno.

  She appeared next to the First Born. Famine was glinting.

  Both glowed with mighty magic, spells to thwart death and to give it. Fire and ice ripped from each and svartalfs died by score. Kiera was frowning below us, and I cursed as the mask moved a bit. Dana was yanking at her chains, which were no longer secure on stone. Kiera appeared next to me and she pulled me up, and pointed up to the battle. Dead svartalfs were falling down from the balcony, slain by the magic of the two. The tower shook, as Stheno let go of a spell that nearly ripped a hole under Shannon, but she had moved closer to her nemesis. They were twenty feet apart, coming closer. Neither was clothed, their robes burned away, and Shannon’s flesh was red and open in many places, Stheno bleeding like a fountain. Stheno’s mighty spell of ripping icy hands were tearing at Shannon’s legs, and at some female svartalfs who died in a blink, but Shannon stomped them to pieces, and let go with a fiery spear, which pierced Stheno’s thigh. The beast howled madly.

  Kiera pulled me up and pointed at the battle. “Release the mask, Ulrich. Kill her, the lot with it. Do it! This is the chance.”

  “I am trying!” I hissed and ripped myself off her. “It’s stuck.”

  “I have to guard the Scepter!” she hissed. “We need you!”

  “I’ll guard the Scepter,” I told her and she cursed me vilely. “I’ll get this free, and then I’ll help.”

  “When you die, Ulrich, beg I still want you,” she said and thrust the mighty thing at me. I held it, felt it thrumming with power. My flesh was tingling with its energies and Kiera rushed away. I gazed at Thak, who was clawing his way back to life, bleeding from a dozen wounds. I put the Scepter down, and placed my knee over it. I found a broken sword, and breathed a curse as I used it to pry the mask out.

  It moved a bit.

  I gave a glance up to the balcony.

  There, the horrible, punishing battle was ongoing. Kiera tried to make her way to Stheno. She apparently had no energy to use magic, and was rushing over rubble. She climbed and made it to the remains of balcony, not far from Shannon, who was pouring fire into Stheno, who was roaring and cursing, one of her arms limp. She countered the spell and made the stone around her cherry red with heat, burning Shannon’s feet and legs, turning a svartalf female into an instant pyre.

  Kiera was struggling to get to them. Some svartalfs, in panic, attacked her. She roared her anger and began slaying the nobles. She screamed her hatred, her anger and let go of her lust to kill. She stabbed one, then another. She got near Stheno and was stopped by more nobles who were trying to flee. Kiera’s blade killed one, ripped another’s leg off. One of the svartalfs let loose an icy whip, and Kiera rolled away from a whiplash, and turned to fog as two svartalf warriors stabbed spears at her. She appeared behind them, exhausted, fighting like a possessed thing. She tore her sword though the neck of one, ripped the head off another, and then stabbed behind her.

  A female child was there, tottering around in confusion. The child fell. The female svartalf who had struck a wound at Kiera shrieked in soulless agony, and I knew the child had been hers.

  “No,” I whispered and struggled with the mask, “Gods damn you,” I wept, and knew I might have stopped that death had I joined the fight faster. I had been hurt, angry, betrayed, and now I was guilty of that death, and many others.

  The mask moved more, I grasped it and began pulling it. The sword broke fully. I thrust my hands into the crack and pulled.

  Dana, trailing chains came to help me.

  Kiera pulled her sword from the child and the corpse fell on her back. She stopped there, over her, the blade dripping, and looked down at me. I shook my head weakly, sick to my stomach of the horror. She looked away, not willing to see my face, my sick soul and my anger, and no matter if she had done similar, terrible deeds in Aldheim, there was horror on her face as well. She moved and rushed over boulders, aiming for Stheno, who was releasing a spell of cold at Shannon, making Shannon’s arms and limbs heavy with the tightening grasp of ice.

  Shannon couldn’t move. The dagger glinted under the ice.

  The savage First Born nodded and walked weakly for the Hand of Hel. She was calling for yet another spell. A shield of dark metal appeared in Stheno’s remaining left hand, a pair of fiery whips to her right hands. She spoke so loud we heard her. “To imagine, my own creation should come to haunt me so. I have hundred and fifty thousand soldiers outside this city. Fit for taking Aldheim, a great army to defeat anyone, and here I am, in my own Pit, facing something that should be dead. But let me remedy that.”

  Shannon laughed. “And imagine the shame, when you die in the same Pit. Come, Stheno. Taste the bite of Hel.”

  Stheno roared, and attacked. The whips weaved a wondrous weave in the air as she slapped them at Shannon. Shannon screamed defiance, and the whips passed through her. The ice fell to the rubble, and Shannon rushed forward in a cloud of crows, face to face with the beast, and she slashed the Famine at the First Born. A snake was hacked off, Stheno’s face opened by the blade of the Goddess Hel, and Stheno screamed. Her shield bashed at Shannon, hitting her squarely, and yet, Shannon stabbed again. The blade sunk to the shoulder of the First Born.

  Kiera finally made it to the battle.

  Her blade sunk into the back of Stheno, then she ripped it out and tore it through the neck of the gorgon, then the back again. Stheno screamed, cursed as her back was pierced, and Shannon, her bone hand scraping at the shield between them, twisted the dagger. She cursed Stheno. “You egg of evil. You spawn of murder. You and your filth of a sister, y
ou bitch, you murdering bastards and mistakes of the Filling Void. You cursed my family in the Tenth, betrayed the gods, betrayed Hel, you greedy spawn of lizards. And now, go to Hel!”

  Stheno held her feet. She spat and her snakes weaved as she grasped Shannon’s throat. She twisted to the side, and fell with Kiera and Shannon to the Pit. Like dogs, they fought on. They rolled together in a primal struggle. Stheno released scorching flames, and Kiera screamed and let go of her and Heartbreaker. Shannon and Stheno wrestled in the dust, turned and turned, and I saw Stheno pull the Heartbreaker from her neck.

  I felt the mask come loose, and then I was kicked aside. Swords pointed at Dana and me from all directions.

  Itax stood over me, and Gutty was behind him. A hundred svartalfs were there, creeping towards the two queens fighting for their lives.

  “You shit,” I said, as he picked up the Scepter. “You are after the throne.”

  He smiled. “That, and more. But I didn’t lie when I said I love Nött. She will reward me well.”

  I nodded.

  “You don’t seem surprised,” he muttered.

  “I sensed there was a goddess involved,” I spat.

  “And probably thought you might take the Horn to her. Not that simple. The Scepter is needed. And you don’t have it.” He grinned at me. “Finally. She will be so grateful to her Under Lord. Yes, that is a title of her high thief.” He stared aghast at the two beasts. “Quite a fight. Not quite what Stheno expected, eh? You did well, even if you did nothing. Wait,” he told Gutty, who was directing his troops forward. “Let one kill the other. Then kill the last one. Then, I’ll decide how to make the best use of you two.” He held the Scepter with a wide smile. He turned it, as if to make sure it was the right one, and laughed softly. His eyes turned to the battle on the edge of the Pit. “Such a sight. I wish I had bet on one. Imagine the bet taker’s face if I had laid one down on the Queen of Scardark.”